Chapter 32 #2
Sloane had her hands wrapped around my sister’s arm, and she lifted her chin, trying to get away, but it didn’t matter.
There was no getting away from my sister.
“How dare you, you little bitch,” Kendra hissed, though I wasn’t sure if she was talking to Sloane or to me. “You think you can take my brother away from me? You think you can just come into his life and seduce him with your fame?”
“Kendra, stop,” I begged, my voice squeezing through my tight throat and barely making it into the room. “Please, let her go.”
“You want me to let her go?” Kendra tilted her head, pressing it into Sloane. “What do you think is going to happen, Kolton? Because the only way she’s leaving here is in a body bag. She doesn’t get to have you. You’re my brother. I love you. Nobody else gets to have you!”
Kendra turned her attention back to Sloane—Sloane, who had tears running down her cheeks and a thin trickle of blood dripping down her throat. My sister nudged Sloane’s head with her nose.
“You were mine first, you little bitch. I heard your music first. I’m the one who introduced it to him. And I’m the one who gets to decide who he’s with, not you. Do you understand that?”
Sloane shook her head, tightened her grip on Kendra’s hand. “You don’t,” she said between clenched teeth. “He’s not your property.”
“What was that?” Kendra hauled Sloane against her, yanking her off her feet. The knife slipped, cutting a narrow red streak across her neck. “You think you know anything? You think you have any right to talk to me?”
Sloane let out a quiet laugh, and Kendra’s dark eyes went wide.
“Sloane, please—” I tried, but it didn’t do any good.
“You think you love him?” Sloane asked, her toes barely touching the floor.
“You’ve done nothing but try to control him his entire life.
If you love someone, you don’t torture them and make their life miserable.
You give them room to grow and breathe and become whoever they are meant to be. The only person you love is yourself.”
“You bitch!” Kendra reared back, then slammed Sloane against my table, her heavy body on top of her. Sloane kept hold of her arm, though, and the knife hit the tabletop before it went flying, landing on the edge of the table, just out of reach.
I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to watch, but I couldn’t look away. My sister was going to kill the only person I’d ever truly loved in this world, and I didn’t know what to do.
Kendra lunged for the knife, but Sloane slammed her head backward into Kendra’s face. Blood poured from my sister’s nose, and my knees went weak as the world started to tilt. I was sure I’d hit the floor, but a moment later, I felt a pair of arms around my waist and chest.
“I got ya.” The voice behind me sounded distorted, but even through the fog in my brain, I recognized Zane. He pulled me backward, out of the kitchen, and I let out a tiny cry.
I wanted to tell him to let me go, to let me run to Sloane. But I couldn’t move, not beyond the shaking of my body and the quick panting of my breaths.
Bodies blocked my vision—legs and torsos rushing past me, rushing toward Sloane. And as Zane lowered me to the floor, I saw past the forest of legs and found my sister lying on her stomach on the cold tile.
Weston had his knee between her shoulders, her arms wrenched back, and her wrists locked between his fingers. Kendra scowled at me, then spit a thick wad of blood-coated saliva onto the floor.
“You’re gonna die, Kolton Ashley Johns. I’m going to fucking kill you. You and that bitch.”
“Not likely, sweetheart,” Weston told her as someone else—maybe Van or Ethan or Cael—tightened zip ties around her wrists.
“He alright?” Lee asked, his deep voice shaking me like a fucking thunderstorm. I looked up at my boss, though I didn’t have to look far. The big man was kneeling beside me, his brow pulled down and a deep frown cut across his face.
“He’ll live,” Zane told him, and something cold touched my forehead.
“It’s okay, Kolton,” Joss whispered beside me. I turned to her, found her close, her hand even closer as she wiped a wet cloth across my face. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Everything’s going to be okay.
My heartrate spiked. “Where’s Sloane?”
“She’s okay,” Joss insisted as Lee told me, “In the kitchen, Drea’s got her.”
I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to breathe through the fear and the pain.
Sloane.
My beautiful Sloane.
Here I thought I could protect her from the assholes who were out to hurt her, when the biggest asshole had walked right in my back door.
How could Kendra do this? How could she step past meddling in everything I did and go straight to trying to kill someone just to keep me close? I didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how someone—anyone—could be so unhinged.
“Kolton, baby?” Sloane’s voice was just a whisper, but it was a song I couldn’t ignore. I opened my eyes and jolted.
Because I was no longer on the floor.
“You doing okay, sweetie?” she asked, squeezing my hand before pressing it to her lips.
I glanced down the length of my body, then around the room.
I was on my couch, blanket draped over me, while my house seemed even fuller than before.
Police officers and EMTs stood around talking with my coworkers.
I searched frantically for my sister, for anyone I might recognize from one of her past dirty tricks, but the coast was clear.
“It’s okay, baby,” Sloane said quietly, reaching up to wipe my hair out of my eyes. “The police took her away a little while ago.”
“Where’d they take her?” I asked, voice raspy, like something was still gripping my throat.
“Down to the police station for booking.” Her gaze dropped to my chest as she said it, and the sight hurt.
“Good,” I told her, squeezing her hand. I lifted my arm, touched her chin with my free hand and pressed.
Sloane had a bandage wrapped around half her throat. She lifted her head, letting me see it, letting me wonder how bad the damage was underneath. “Are you okay with that?”
“With what?” I asked, dropping my hand.
“That they arrested her for assault?”
“Just assault?” I shook my head. “It should be attempted murder. Sloane, she tried to kill you. She would have if it hadn’t been for—”
For what?
“What even happened?” I asked, pulling her hand to my chest.
Her bottom lip wobbled, and she leaned forward for a kiss.
“Weston was looking out for us.” She shrugged, pulled back.
“I stayed with him until he felt well enough to come back out. I told him to go sit down and I’d get him something to drink, but then you came into the kitchen, and he got curious. ”
She smiled, brushed her hand across my cheek.
“He saw Kendra behind me and ran around to the back of the house. I guess Zane wondered what was going on, because he caught you after I smashed my head into her face and she started bleeding all over.” She touched the back of her head and flinched.
“You’re hurt.” I tried to reach for her, but I still felt so weak.
“I’ll be okay. I mostly hit her nose, so there was a lot of… red, but none of it was mine.”
“Your throat?”
“Just a small cut. The paramedics cleaned it, but they say it doesn’t need stitches.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She kissed my hand. “What happened was not your fault. Kendra did this, and she’s going to have to live with her choices.”
A groan wrenched free from my chest. “My parents—”
“Have already been called,” Sloane told me, draping her free arm over my chest. “Kacie too. They were horrified about what happened.”
“Let me guess, they’re blaming me again?”
“Not even the slightest.” She gave a sad smile. “They were skeptical at first, but it’s hard to refute video evidence that your child is the spawn of the devil.”
“What?”
She looked over her shoulder, to where Van was holding his phone out for a police officer to see. “Van recorded it. Once Weston darted out of the house and Zane rushed to the kitchen after you, Van pulled out his phone.”
I glanced over at my friend and found him coming our way, shaking his head the whole time.
“Never liked her,” he said, stopping behind Sloane and tugging at a strand from her ponytail.
“The way you described her, the things you said she did? Made me wonder why the hell your parents would allow that kind of shit. You grow up with a narcissist as a parent and you become attuned to these kinds of things.”
“Thank you.” My voice caught and broke, but Van didn’t care. He reached over and scrubbed his hand over my head, messing up my hair.
“Friends look out for their friends.” He shrugged, then glanced over to where Weston and Zane stood. “Besides, I knew they’d take care of you two. Figured this might be just as important as that.”
“It is,” I said, right before the door swung open and a blur rushed in.
“Kolton? Oh my god, Kolton!”
“Mom?” As my mother rushed over to me, Sloane and Van moved out of the way. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Kolton.” Her face broke in two and tears formed in her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry. Are you okay? Both of you,” she said, glancing at Sloane.
“We’ll be fine, Mrs. Johns.”
“Please,” Mom said, placing a hand on Sloane’s. “Call me Katie.” She turned back to me. “Are you—?”
I shook my head. “It’s just… hem… hemo…”
“Hemophobia.”
My gaze shot to the man standing at the end of the couch. My father looked like he was about to cry.
“I’m so sorry, Kolton. We never believed— We should have done better.”
“We all should have,” my sister Kacie said, her head peeking out from behind my dad’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Kolton. I should have done something years ago.”
The temptation to brush off her apology was strong, but I knew I needed to be stronger. My family had been in the wrong, and it would take time to try to overcome everything they’d brushed under the rug my entire life.
So instead, I just nodded, which seemed to be enough. And if it wasn’t, it wasn’t my responsibility to make them feel okay.
Sloane and I were here. We were safe. And I had my Bridgewater family to thank.