30. Colton
THIRTY
COLTON
Never been a person who paces. Not when I’m nervous, or for any other reason.
But goddamn it, I’m pacing now. I look over at Kinleigh, who is wrapped up in the fluffiest blanket I could find, her eyes glassy as she peers out the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the property. She’s on the couch, near the hearth, where a fire gently roars.
She’s speaking again, some, and I’m so goddamn grateful to know that the monster didn’t take everything from her. He took too much as it is.
My fists curl into knots at my sides, remembering Forrest and what he did to her right before my eyes. Knowing there were years and years of that for her? With no one around to protect her, to help her, to be her voice? Bile climbs my throat, burning the back of my nose, but I swallow it down just as a knock comes at the door.
Liam is back. He had to run into town for supplies, as neither of us anticipated Kin being in quite the shape she was in.
I hoped he wouldn’t hurt her.
I prayed he wouldn't kill her.
I silently begged every dead person I knew to make sure he didn’t take her with him.
Two of those wishes came true, but unfortunately, before Forrest left to find and likely kill me, he beat her ruthlessly.
Quickly I move to the door and slide off the three chain locks, twisting the deadbolt last. In Buffalo Trails, Wyoming, no one locks their doors.
I find it telling that my father had four locks installed. And by God, I’m using them.
Liam comes in, his face bitten by the cold, cheeks red, tips of his messy hair icy. “Where is she?” he asks, shrugging out of his coat before hanging it and his hat on the hooks on the wall.
“By the fire.”
He lifts the plastic bag between us. “Why don’t you help her wash up before I tend to everything? That way I don’t clean her wounds and dress ’em in bandages only for her to need a shower. You know?”
I nod. The unspoken subtext of Liam’s sentiment is that Forrest likely raped her before or during his assault and that Kinleigh, now that she’s safe, deserves to be scrubbed free of that for the very last time.
Peering over at Kin, her eyes still somewhere faraway, I nod. “Makes sense.”
Liam administers an IV, full of fluids and pain medicine, as well as steroids to help give her strength. I don’t know where he gets them from, but I don’t question it. I only want her better. And for now, I want her comfortable for her bath.
While he does that, I work on making the tub as welcoming as ever, placing a rolled towel where her neck and head will rest, filling the warm water with lavender soap and Epsom salts, and tossing a few extra towels in the dryer to warm up for afterward. I return to the living room as Liam is removing her IV. Rolling one sleeve, I take a seat near her, rubbing her blanket-covered knees that are pulled to her chest and tucked under her chin.
“Baby, Liam’s gonna get you more medicine in that IV after you get out. We’ll get you to a doctor as soon as we can. Before we get you in that warm bath, I need to clean some of your wounds.” There is so much blood on her, making her clothes sticky, she may need two baths if I don’t clean her up a bit first. Finally, she looks at me, the distance in her gaze gone. A small smile curls her lips, and with a gentle nod, she reaches out for me.
It’s a simple thing, wanting help up or asking to be carried. Not a big deal at all. Especially since she’s injured.
But the feeling of her hands linked together at my neck, her nose pressed into my throat as her breathing levels– I’ve never felt so honored or special.
“Thank you,” she whispers, “for coming back for me. For saving me. For taking care of me.”
All of those things felt right until the last part. If I would’ve stayed all those years back, I would have taken care of her and none of this would’ve happened.
She takes my chin in her hand, causing me to look down at her and stop my journey to the bathroom. “I’m sorry for giving the ring back. I never wanted to break it off with you.” She swallows, wincing at the pain in her throat, one she probably got from screaming as Forrest laid his fists all over her. “He made me. I wanted you to know that back then, but he threatened me.”
She fingers the taped chain on her chest, fiddling casually with the ring as she speaks. “Can I have it now?” Her eyes, endless pools of hope and love, stare up at me, asking for permission.
I continue to the bathroom and nudge the door closed with my boot before lowering Kin to the counter. I duck my head down, making our eyes level, and I keep my voice strong and steady as I say, “It’s always belonged to you.” Her bottom lip wobbles as she nervously fiddles with the ring. Carefully, I move her hair to one side and reach behind her, unknotting the tied necklace with incredible ease, as if the universe can’t stand the thought of us wasting any more time. I slide the ring off the chain, and as I bring it to her fingertip, our eyes come together.
Steam floats above us, the small space fragrant and warm. “My heart has always been yours, Kinney. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.” I bring our mouths together, uncaring of what hers has been forced to do today, or any other day. I swear to myself right here in this bathroom that I will kiss this mouth so many times that by the time we’re old and gray, my mouth and my body is the only man she’ll remember.
Nothing in my pants hardens, and she doesn't reach for the hem of my shirt with fire in her eyes. The moment is instead both somber and tender, making room for the pain borne from years lost while paying homage to the fact that we’re together now, despite the circumstances.
I help her take her clothes off, and keep my eyes on hers, respecting that her body is hers, and only ever mine when she says the word. After what Forrest Conway did to her, the choice to be physical will be in her hands until she says otherwise.
After wiping off several washcloths worth of blood, I help her into the tub, fire burning through my veins each time she whines or winces at a sore, hurt spot on her body.
“Stay with me?” she asks, her voice soft, and though she’s been through hell, my girl is strong. She doesn’t need me to stay. She wants me to stay, and I’ve never wanted to be anywhere else half as much.
Nodding, I close the lid on the toilet and take a seat, watching bubbles drift along the soapy surface. “Does it feel good?” I ask, then before she can answer, I add, “I want to know so much about what life has been like for you these last ten years.”
She smiles, reaching for the shampoo bottle I pressed into the corner of the tub. I reach out, taking it from her, motioning with one finger for her to spin. She does, and I have to stay focused on her long, wet hair to keep from losing my mind over the scars and bruising on her back.
The shampoo is pungent as I squeeze it into my hands, discovering it’s coral-colored and shimmery. I begin kneading it into her scalp, my mind racing. I have so many questions. Some can wait, but others can’t. Not if I’m meant to take care of her now.
As if she knows I’m on the cusp of verbal explosion, she sighs, turning her head just enough to lower her chin to her shoulder. “What do you want to know first?”
That’s easy. “Why did he make you break it off with me?”
She sighs again, this time clearly ruminating on the question. “I’ve thought about this a lot,” she finally says as I wash her hair. “I think because he saw how much you loved me. And I believe he was afraid of what you’d do for me.”
My mouth is suddenly dry. “Why couldn’t he just let you go?” I ask, more wondering aloud than expecting an answer. The way he treated Kinleigh tells me he didn’t want her but more so, a warm body to use to make him feel like a big man. That could’ve been anyone. “Why did he make his daughter stay?”
She twists fully, facing me now, hair in a lathered clump atop her head. Her bare breasts catch my eyes for a moment, nubbed peaks stiff as ever, soap swimming between them back toward the water. A fucking sight.
God I’m glad she’s safe now.
“I spent a lot of years trying to figure that out. Why did it have to be me? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else? So many women came through our property over the years…” she trails off, plucking a bubble off the surface, smothering it between her fingers. “But why shouldn’t it have been me? Because we were in love?” Tears well in her eyes. “There are children that he trafficked, Colton. And so many young women, I couldn’t even guess the amount. And they all had families that love them, too.” I turn her back around and let my hands sink into the water a moment before bringing them to her shoulders, attempting to knead away the unease.
“He’s not my father,” she adds quietly as I’m conditioning her hair. My movements cease and I peer around her face, blinking inquisitively at her profile. Twisting again to face me, she smiles a little. “He let it slip once when he was… upset ,” she says, and the image of him raping her forces its way into my brain, causing me to grip the edge of the porcelain tub until my knuckles are white.
“What do you mean?” I ask, remembering the day we discovered we were neighbors. The last time I was that happy was watching her wake in my arms as I rode us to this very house just hours ago.
Motioning for me to continue, I work the thick cream into her hair as she drags a bar of soap lazily over her arms and legs, washing herself carefully. “He said he was doing me a favor, keeping me from becoming the cheating whore that my mother was. I remember thinking, no, no, my mom wasn’t bad, she wasn’t like that, but then he just outright told me. She had an affair and I was the whore bastard to come of it.”
That’s a lot to process, so I press a kiss to the tops of each shoulder, and begin rinsing her hair in the tub. “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”
She leans back to let me rinse her hair, and I love that she’s calm and feels safe enough to let her eyes close in my presence. “I do. My dad has always hated me, and he’s never had a reason. And after he told me that, I tried to find ways in which we were similar.” She sits up and pulls the drain, and I ready one of the warm towels remaining. The water begins slowly draining, but she stays in the tub another moment. “Do we act frustrated the same way? Do I have a slight limp like him? Are my toes long like his? Is my hair color similar? Do I sound like him?” She pauses, gripping her head like the conversation is making her sick. I reach for her, wrapping her in the towel first, then my open arms.
“I don’t think he was lying. I think two blessings came from this. The first was finding out I share no blood with that monster, and the second… being reunited with you.”
After placing a kiss at her hairline, I rest my cheek on her head and smooth my hand up and down her back. “I’m so sorry Kinney. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. For all of it.”
She hugs me back just a little before I split us apart, eager to get her tended to by Liam. I reach for the pile of clothes I put in here, stuff I swiped from Carsyn’s drawers. Nothing fancy. Some yoga pants and an oversized BUFFALO TRAILS 2009 CHERRY PIE EATING CONTEST t-shirt, aged with wear and holes. When we’ve got her dressed, she takes Carsyn’s hairbrush and attempts to brush out her tangles, but because her shoulder is sore where Forrest slammed her into the cellar wall, she’s struggling. I help her, standing behind her as I watch us in the mirror.
I drag the brush through the wet tangles, keeping my voice private since Liam is outside and the water is no longer running. “We’re gonna make a beautiful life together now, baby. And we’ll have our own kids, and we’ll love them so much and have such a good life. I’ll work every moment going forward to erase what he did to you, I’ll do what I can. I’ll live my life to make you happy, Kinney, if you let me.”
Her eyes well and she swivels in my arms, facing me. I think we’re going to share an emotional kiss, a moment tender and sweet to seal all the words I’ve spoken and mean so deeply, but instead she reaches for the handle and opens the door. “I really want to get my bandages on and take a nap,” she says through a watery smile.
I want to ask her what I said, or what I did, but she does need those bandages and a nap. We have forever to talk, and I don’t want to push her.
I dip my head and follow her out. Liam has a place made up on the couch where he can examine her, all his medical supplies spread out on the coffee table over the top of old magazines. I offer to give them privacy, and head into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.
I grew uneasy and started pacing again about five minutes into Kinleigh’s exam. As I stand over the kitchen sink, peeling potatoes for soup because, goddamn it, I cannot listen to her explain why certain spots could be sore.
My blood is boiling.
If I know Forrest Conway, he’s likely gone by now. He thought he killed Kinleigh, and thought I was on the loose ready to out him. He’s a coward and a bastard, and he’s not coming back. I can almost guarantee it.
In the other room, on the couch near the hearth, Liam, wearing purple medical gloves, runs the tips of his fingers around the base of Kinleigh’s skull. Sucking in air between clenched teeth, I notice now even her complaints are quiet. She’s been forced to keep it all in so long. I nick my knuckle with the peeler, setting off a string of curse words.
As much as I want Forrest Conway to die a punishing death and to meet his fiery maker below, I do not want to waste a single moment of my time on anything anymore. I hereby devote every second I am breathing to loving, relearning and worshiping Kinleigh Conway.
Kinleigh Beckett one day.
Kinleigh Beckett– that makes my heart beat real quick and my groin comes alive.
Kinleigh is back in my life. I almost can’t even believe it. From the other room, I hear Liam discard bandage wrappers, and assume he’s done treating her face and head. After setting my soup to cook, I return to the living room with three mugs and the carafe of fresh coffee.
I take a seat, and when Liam goes to dispose of his gloves, I lean forward, spreading my palms over my knees a bit nervously. “Is it all right if I stay?” I don’t want to make anything a moment worse for her.
She nods, eyeing the coffee cups. “Of course you can stay,” she says, her voice a whisper from fatigue. I think after the bath and now that her head is more comfortable from the bandages and aspirin, she’s ready for a nap.
Bumps flutter across my flesh at the idea of curling up behind her, folding myself into her as she sleeps. Burying my nose in her hair, feeling her heart beating, listening to the soft flutters of her exhales.
In times like now, after imagining that, I can’t fathom wasting a second of time, money or resources trying to find Forrest. He will cross the wrong man one day and get what’s coming. I have to believe that.
But I’m not leaving Kinleigh.
Ever again.
I get to my feet immediately and pour her a cup, walking it to her while she sits on the couch, Liam returning. She takes a few sips and passes it back to me, and I set it down on the table and take a seat. Helping her, serving her, something about that makes me feel good. Makes my cock a little hard. Gets my pulse going a little.
“You may hear some things you won’t like but…” She shrugs, our eyes holding from across the coffee table where the medical supplies are scattered. This is such a weird situation we’re in but it feels liveable and possible to get through because of her. “They’re all things, in the long run, you’ll want to know.”
She turns away quickly, and I hate that trait she carries. The one that tells her to put up the wall, stay strong, don’t let anyone see how deeply she’s hurting. She’s so used to being so strong. I just want her to know, if she needs to shatter, I’ll collect all her broken pieces. Every piece of her is perfect to me.
Liam returns, and moves through examining both of her arms, wrists and hands. He determines she had a broken finger that healed fairly well without much medical tending. Kinleigh said she fell off her horse and landed funny, but remained silent when Liam questioned if a doctor’s visit was ever made, for any of her ailments. Wrists were bruised, to which she responded dryly, “They always are.” He said he could draw her blood, that he had obtained a prepaid mailer to send it to a facility outside of town. How or why he had that with him is a conversation for another time. Something tells me I’m one of many that would love to see Forrest Conway go down.
“And do you think you’ll need a pregnancy test?” he asks, dropping his volume.
I don’t move but my eyes gravitate to her, my pulse suddenly jumping.
Sensing my gaze, she looks at me as she replies to Liam. “No. I am unable to have children.”
Liam opens his mouth, searching for words of consolation, his head veering my way for a moment before he and Kinleigh look at one another at the same time. “You’re sure?” he asks.
She nods. “I was sterilized against my will.”
I have to swallow to keep myself breathing. My nostrils flare, and I reach for my coffee to divert the energy suddenly tearing through me. Sipping while burning my mouth, I listen as Liam gently uncovers more layers of Forrest’s destruction.
My poor, beautiful girl.
My coffee cup clatters against the table as I set it back down, but neither of them flinch. The exam continues, and the entire time, I listen, all the while trying to put together my broken heart so I can fix hers, too.
She wanted to be a mama. She always said she did.
I wanted her to be the mother of our kids. Even during the years we didn’t speak, I wanted that. Deeply. I wanted her. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t wanted her.
Kinleigh needs healing from the inside out, and I plan to be there every step of the way.