31. Kinleigh
THIRTY-ONE
KINLEIGH
There’s so much I’ve blocked out from my past, so many memories I’ve cemented over so that the demons couldn’t slide through. Even with everything, I remember her. I remember her round cheeks, so unlike Colton’s, while her hair color is just like his.
She tugs at the scarf looped around her neck as her eyes come to mine.
“Carsyn,” I breathe. “You look… almost exactly the same. Only…” I shake my head, trying to place what’s different other than her height.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “You somehow still look like a damn kid.”
She rolls her eyes. “Maybe that’s why I can’t meet anyone. They think I’m underage.”
I get to my feet and rush toward her, pulling her into my chest while she’s trying to wrangle out of her wet, cold coat. Laughing, she embraces me before pushing back a little, arms flailing. “I have to get out of this thing,” she says, Nash coming up behind her to help.
He helps her out of it, turning to hang it on the rack on the wall. Swiping his hand over his thigh, he extends it to me, dipping his head. “Nash,” he says, the greeting far too formal for six forty-seven in the morning. “Nice to meet you, Miss Kinleigh.”
Carsyn snorts. “How come I’m not Miss Carsyn?”
Nash smiles at me before facing Carsyn, shrugging out of his own wet coat. “You’re more of a squirt,” he says, winking.
“It’s great to meet you anyway,” Nash says, smiling. He’s handsome, and I adore the dimples in his cheeks and the rugged length of his scruff.
I look up at Colton, and my insides warm. My body aches when he’s near me, not with pain but desire. The cadence of my heart changes, my core clenching needfully. There’s nothing I wouldn’t let him do to me… in time.
But I do need time.
I hook my arm through his and tip my head against his bicep. Carsyn and Nash seem to be in decent moods, considering the scene. “I’m grateful to you Carsyn,” I tell her as she continues to get out of her dirty clothing. Down to long johns, she quickly wraps a blanket around herself.
“Why?”
“Because you called attention to my father’s hold on your property. Without that, Colton wouldn’t have come searching.” I turn and face the man who saved me. “I’m sorry for what he did to you.” I know I’m not responsible, but I can’t help feeling that my namesake is to blame. Despite the fact that Forrest was just a shitty live-in stepfather, and not my actual dad.
“There is nothing that happened to me that requires an apology from you,” Colton says, pointed but not sharp. “You hear that?”
I nod.
He takes my hands, right here in front of Nash, Liam and Carsyn, and he grips them tight after shaking them a little. “Tell me you know what happened to you wasn’t your fault and then tell me you know what happened to me was neither your fault or in your control.”
I roll my lips together nervously, heated drops of sweat pricking the back of my neck. “I know,” I reply quietly, only looking at our joined hands.
“Look at me,” he breathes, the words rough, tumbling out of him from his heart. I look up and find his dark eyes wide, brows flatly serious. “Kinleigh, none of this has been your fault and you have nothing to feel bad or guilty for.”
Shameful tears sting my eyes. Logically, I know rescue and escape and all the words that bear the solution to what he and I have both been through aren’t simple answers. Escape for me was too great a risk because at the end of each miserable day, I wanted to live, and I hoped a time would come where I could do so freely. Not the way I did with Forrest, but how I always dreamed of living… with Colton.
While I do know he’s right, fully feeling faultless will take time. I find his eyes, uncomfortable with letting my tears fall in this room of people. One day, they will be my family. Including Liam, I’m sure. His devotion to righteousness in the face of all-encompassing evil is honorable, and not something Colton or myself will soon forget. Same goes for Carsyn and Nash.
But right now, I can’t show that vulnerability. I’m so raw and broken, I can’t take that level of intimate exposure. I sniffle, causing the tears to sink back into me, and lift my gaze to Colton’s. “I know. Thank you.”
He searches my eyes, but he remains silent, understanding the things I’ve not spoken aloud. That’s how we are together, even as kids we were the same way. The level of deep understanding flows between us, and he nods, breaking his protective grip on my hands. He drapes an arm around my shoulders, and guides everyone to the living room where the hearth is roaring with a fire. We settle in, with Liam moving around Colton’s kitchen easily, returning with mugs.
“Tea is on,” he says, settling in.
With the slow fizz of water beginning to heat on the stove in the kitchen, Nash begins recounting the rescue.
Colton led them to the container but went on to get to me, leaving Carsyn and Nash to get the five women and one child from underground. They’d ridden out with two extra horses, Nash riding with a woman, Carsyn riding with the child, two women taking one horse, the last woman riding alone. “As soon as we got them out, we gave them water and some food,” Nash recalls, and my mind flashes to the burlap bag with fresh fruit and two loaves of French bread. “Then we got them loaded up and promised safety, and rode them into town.”
He explains bringing them into the hospital and letting the doctor on call make the phone call to the Federal Bureau of Investigations. The doctor offered the phone to Nash, who declined, telling him to relay to the agent that “Colton Beckett is the man you want to talk to.” Surprisingly, after getting names and statements, the detective that arrived in under an hour let Carsyn and Nash leave.
“So… did you get an update on the women?” I ask, hoping that we got there in time. That no one was too sick or too starved.
Nash nods. “High-level summary from what they’d tell us is that everyone was okay. One wasn’t conscious but she was alive, thank God. They were hungry, a few broken ribs, lots of injuries that healed on their own.” He strokes his hand down his beard, his eyes unfocused on the fire, gaze distant and pensive.
“What?” I ask, sensing there’s more.
Colton rests his hand on my knee, and it sets off a wave of urgent need through my thighs and groin. My body has missed him so much, despite everything else it’s been through.
“One of them doesn’t have a family.” He finally looks over at us, casting a glance at Carsyn and Liam who sit opposite each other in armchairs. I don’t know what secrets Nash holds in his heart, but I can tell by the way he closely studies his hands, by the way his breathing grows deep and his features pull together thoughtfully, that he indeed has secrets, just like the rest of us. And this trafficking victim is clearly triggering something inside of him.
“They’re at the hospital now,” Carsyn says, tipping her head sideways, analyzing Nash’s profile. “The nurse in charge said the mother and daughter pair were being transferred to a children’s facility, as they want to run further tests on the little girl. The other women should be free to go in a few days, after they’ve been put through all the tests and swabs.”
I notice that Nash’s face seems more concerned with Carsyn’s announcement.
“And where will she go then?” he asks, and no one answers, but I’m not sure if it was meant for a response.
Carsyn and Colton share a knowing glance. “She can come here,” Carsyn says, searching for approval in Colton’s eyes. He nods, looking at me for approval.
“Would you be okay with that? If we let one of the women stay with us until she gets back on her feet?” Colton’s words are so soft, so pliably delicate and tender, as if his only concern in the world is what I want. And I believe that it is. “If you need time–”
I shake my head, vehemently deciding right then and there. My first real choice in years. And it feels so good. “No–I mean, yes, bring her here. I think that would be great. Honestly, I think that would be really, really great. Especially if she truly has nowhere else.”
“She doesn’t,” Nash responds quickly, sitting forward on the couch. “I mean, hell, she’s down there all alone right now.”
Carsyn strokes Nash’s bicep comfortingly.
“The other women, their families came pouring through the doors, hysterically happy, tears everywhere, flower petals and teddy bears and…” Nash’s voice thins as he trails off, leaving the sentence to hang. But I get it.
This woman had been stolen from her life and held for so long that anyone of importance to her had passed away. And now, a miraculous rescue has brought her back and no one is there waiting for her. It’s terrible. I can’t even imagine. What if I had lived through my father’s last attack only to wake alone? “That’s awful,” I breathe out, my eyes growing misty at the thought. “Go be with her,” I hear myself offer the solution to Nash, and though we all know he just met her hours ago, and that she’s in a bad way, no one reacts as if it’s foolish. And I say the things that are likely running through his mind.
“No, she doesn’t know you. You’re right, if that’s what you’re thinking. But you saved her. You and Carsyn saved her. And being with someone who is good to their core, even if they are a stranger, has to be better than lying alone,” I say, thinking of the faceless woman in a bed, the room dark, hospital noises sounding every few minutes.
“She may be asleep but if she isn’t, it may be comforting to have someone nearby,” Carsyn adds softly, smoothing her hand up and down Nash’s arm. He’s clearly affected by what’s gone down, and for that matter, I think Carsyn and Liam are too. Liam hasn’t spoken much since he finished my exam a few hours ago.
We may all need a little therapy after this.
Nash gets to his feet, and he pulls Carsyn into his arms. They share a hug, one that tells me the time they’ve spent together the last month has been heavy on trauma bonding. They don’t embrace romantically but more so, with love and care. He goes in for a handshake with Liam next, and does the same for Colton, then strokes down my arm carefully, like I could break.
“I’ll bring breakfast back,” he says, eagerly slipping into his boots. Colton moves through the room into the hall, retrieving a dry jacket from the closet. He hands it to Nash, who is built the same as Colton, and slips it on. “Thanks.”
Colton drops his truck keys into Nash’s palm. “Murphy is in the garage. Don’t let her out.”
Nash nods, and slips out into the garage. A moment later, the engine roars and he’s gone.
“How are you feeling?” Liam asks, breaking the silence as Carsyn traps a yawn with her hand.
“Sore and very tired,” I admit. The belt marks on my back hurt the worst, and unless I stand, it rubs against everything. Liam gave me some pain meds, but not much. I still feel shitty but between the bath and the meds, and getting my wounds tended to with ointment and ice, I do feel a bit better.
And completely exhausted.
“When you’re well enough, it’s probably best you go into the Buffalo General,” Liam offers softly, rising to retrieve the tea kettle that whistles loudly from the stove.
“He’s right. When you’re up for it, we should probably get you all checked out,” Colton says, the elephant in the space between us big and consuming. I want the doctors to find a mistake, but I haven’t had a period in years. I’m sterile, and I don't believe a real doctor will miraculously be able to tell me otherwise. But he’s not wrong. I’ve had many injuries go untreated, and X-rays and tests are a good thing.
I nod. “I agree, I’d like to see a doctor in a few days.” Liam passes us each a mug of hot tea and I take a few sips, immediately growing tired. My head aches from the heavy bruising, and my stomach is sore from his boot. I can hardly move around, and all the conversation is proving to be too much after the commotion of the night. I twist to face Colton. “I need to sleep.”
And before I can even scooch to the end of the couch and attempt to get myself up, I’m against his chest, in his arms, being carried down the hall. “Nash has been in my old bedroom, so we will be in my dad’s room.”
I wrinkle my nose playfully with the small bit of energy I have left. “Weird,” I tease.
Colton kisses the end of my nose as he angles us through the threshold, kicking the door closed with his socked foot. He lowers me to the bed. “Carsyn got this room all cleaned up, just in case,” he says, smiling down at me as he pulls a thick afghan over me. It smells like laundry soap and fresh sunlight, and the weight of it brings an additional layer of comfort.
He climbs into bed next to me, and I roll easily into him, sinking my nose into his chest as my hands paw at his shoulders. The privacy of the room sets in, and all the tears I’d tried so hard to keep to myself earlier spring up, wetting my cheeks and his shirt.
He holds me, not asking what’s wrong but instead offering calm words and gentle touch. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe now, baby. You’re safe. I have you. Forever, Kinney, I have you.”
I drift off with his lips pressed to my forehead.