Chapter Seventeen #2
Thank fuck she hasn’t gone for the bottle of tequila on the shelf. Once my underwear and jeans are on, Kinsley turns and hands me a mug.
She remains standing by the kitchen counter. Instead of sitting down, I lean my ass against the back of the couch and watch her.
“She was my friend in college,” she starts without me prompting her. “We were close, shared a dorm, then an apartment in senior year. LA is so expensive it made sense we got a place together.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, who gives a fuck about that part, and force her to get to the point.
That’s the wrong thing to do. She has to do it her own way, I cannot be the impatient asshole who acts first and deals with the consequences later.
Being here is proof those tactics don’t work. Kinsley isn’t Nero, who would kick my ass but not need to forgive me for anything shitty I say. Kinsley will push me away, and I don’t want that.
“She came from old money and didn’t need to have college housing, but she wanted the full experience, or so she said.
She was there for me when it all started.
Phone calls, emails, saying stupid shit that was more irritating than scary.
You know, heavy breathing kind of bullshit. Then pictures started showing up.”
“Of what?”
“Me, with the eyes cut out.”
I straighten up at hearing that, she gives me a murderous look, so I bite my tongue. Again.
“I got the cops involved, but they couldn’t do anything.”
“That is the bullshit that gets women hurt or killed,” I snarl.
“Well, I’m not hurt or dead as you can see. I was paranoid about everything. Anyone new I met, I’d be… scared. And I hated that shit. I was so angry and didn’t understand why someone was targeting me. Anyway, things got worse before they got better.” She has a sip of her coffee.
Anyone else and I’d expect them to be upset talking about it. Kinsley looks angry enough she is close to throwing the mug.
“I got the feeling someone was watching me, not just trying to scare me with calls and stupid threats. When things in my room were moved around, enough that only I could tell, the cops still wouldn’t help.
It scared me enough to get a gun,” she looks at me.
“From a guy I was seeing. He was in an MC,” she adds, her expression daring me to be an asshole about it.
Is she fucking serious? After that total bullshit with the t-shirt she actually did date some cunt from another MC.
Now I’m murderous for a whole different reason.
Not only at this fucker, but him giving her a goddamn gun which was probably stolen and unregistered.
The rage is simmering close to the top. This is someone else I need to fuck up.
“Don’t get all pissy, Rebel. He didn’t want to give it to me. I made him do it.”
“Doesn't make him any less of a pussy,” I grumble. He should have protected her, not given her something that could get her fucking killed.
“He helped me out.”
“Bet he thought he was a fucking hero.”
Okay, now I sound like a pussy.
“The cops still weren’t taking me seriously. I got it to protect myself. Kane showed me how to use it. Oh fuck off,” she groans at my expression.
It’s a wonder my tongue isn’t fucking bleeding. Now I have a name. I need to find out which club he rides with.
“It’s a good job I had the damn thing because after three years of off and on harassment, of having my best friend comfort me every time something went wrong, I figured out it was her. I was moving out, going to a different area across town to see if that helped. I’d already made arrangements.”
If she says she was moving in with this Kane motherfucker…
“It was another friend from college,” she scowls, reading my expression.
No surprise there, I’m holding on to this couch for dear life.
“She didn’t like the thought of that, so she decided if I was going to leave her, then she was going to stop me. I’m not getting into the details. All I’ll say is I fought for my fucking life and she ended up getting arrested.”
“What did she do?” I ask, my voice sounds soft, low, nothing compared to the rage swarming through me. “Tell me.”
Kinsley lifts her head. She’s breathing hard but I don't regret asking.
“Almost drowned me.” At my confused expression she blows out a breath. “In the tub, she’d set it all up before I got home from work. She didn’t expect me to fight back as hard as I did, figured I’d be too scared.
“She got off by pleading insanity. She is a psychopath who knew exactly what she was doing. Her family had the best lawyers so she’s locked up in a secure mental health institution and I’m here.”
“You don’t want to be here?”
Kinsley is surprised I haven’t asked for more. I don’t need to do that when I have Blaze.
“I was… not handling it, and when Colt realized, he came up with this idea to commission me to do some work for the church. It was his way of getting me home. He’s been working on convincing me to stay ever since.”
“Good.”
She sighs and finishes her coffee. “So, now you know my story, are you happy?”
“No, I’m fucking angry. What is this cop doing?”
“It was a courtesy call, Rebel. It will take months for her to lodge an appeal and get a court date.”
“What if she gets out?”
Kinsley shrugs. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
Who would have thought I’d side with a priest and make damn sure she never goes back to LA? And if that bitch gets released, and so much as sets a foot in Baltimore, she’ll be signing her death warrant.
Kinsley looks at the clock on the wall. It's almost dawn, I should leave. She is putting on a brave face, but she’s upset.
One thing I’ve learned about Kinsley, she’ll never admit she’s afraid, always fighting, always convincing everyone she doesn’t need them.
I will not force her to give me any more details about what happened with this bitch, Eloise. I am going to make sure Blaze does what he can to keep her in the fucking psych ward though.
I walk over and take her mug, then put a hand on her lower back and gently push her.
“What are you…” she trails off when I guide her to the bedroom.
I expect an argument, but she doesn’t fight me when I strip off everything but my underwear and walk to the bed, giving her a challenging look. It’s the only thing Kinsley responds to. She doesn’t want softness or pity. She wants a fight. Even if it’s a silent eye battle across her messy bed.
There is no doubt in my mind she knows exactly what I’m doing, but she doesn’t show it. And she doesn’t push me away when I drag her toward me and press close into her back.
It takes an age for us both to fall asleep, and when we do, it’s doing something I’ve never experienced before, holding tight to a woman, knowing I want to protect her, keep her safe from her own demons. And mine.
At least with Kinsley there will not be a fucking puppy in any future we have. There’ll be angry fucking, spilled blood, arguments and a lot of denial about what is growing between us.
I’ve got bridges to mend with Nero, a fucking traitorous asshole to find and break, and a shit ton of other problems to deal with.
Lying here, holding her is settling me like nothing I've known before.
I’m selfish and won’t push her away, because apparently I’m as dumb a fuck as Nero and Nashville.