Chapter 7
Kinsley
Happy Birthday
Present Day
Stretching my neck from side to side, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back startled me as the ever-present emotions of pain and weariness swirled in my eyes. Today was April 23, and I was officially twenty-one years old. Too young to feel so tired, yet here I was.
There weren’t any beignets this morning or pretty wrapped presents with bows. There was no Owen with his brown, smiling eyes to tease me about getting old or to sing “Happy Birthday”
off-key. No bag of jelly beans. No, this birthday was identical to last year’s—empty.
Who knew something as simple as jelly beans could bring a person to their knees? If I closed my eyes and concentrated hard enough, I could still hear his voice. Owen had been so good to me.
I smiled, thinking about how we’d driven around in our RV that first year and a half. We’d visited almost every state in America, looking for a place to call home. We’d ended up settling in the Pacific Northwest region, and it gave us the opportunity to do all the things we liked—hunting, fishing, hiking, and living in the great outdoors.
Looking back, I can say that almost every day had been an adventure with Owen. True to his word, he was patient. In fact, I started calling him Saint Owen because he truly was a saint to put up with me and all my issues.
For the first six months, we stayed at the safe house, and Doc stayed with us. She was integral in my initial healing. She acted as a facilitator between us as I learned to navigate healthy relationships and establish boundaries.
Not that it was difficult, because Owen was so respectful. He’d even let me pick my name about a week into staying at the safe house. He hated calling me Spring, and I couldn’t stand Mischa. So, on April 23, 2014, I officially became Kinsley Anya Marie Taylor, and I began again. I had a shiny new birth certificate and all the jelly beans a girl could ask for.
The memory of driving to our new property was one I often brought to mind. For nothing other than a reminder that good things could still happen to me. It wasn’t hopeless. I got lost in the memory.
“Jellybean, if you leave me only the green and yellow ones, I may never buy you another bag again,”
Owen joked with me.
I giggled and withheld the bag from him.
“I’m serious, now. Hand me some of those before they’re all gone. We have at least one hundred sixty miles before we’ll need to stop again.”
He held out his hand, and I shook the bag, laughing as a bunch of green and yellow ones fell out.
“You are officially fired,”
he said with a huge smile.
“It’s not my fault. Honestly, it’s the luck of the draw, and you seem to be down on yours today.”
I laughed as he popped the jelly beans into his mouth and grimaced.
“Get out the guide for the county we’ll be in again. I want you to know all the game animals and the exact dates we can legally hunt by three o’clock. Then you can start on that pre-algebra.”
“Okay, but if I pass the quiz, can we have pizza for dinner?”
“Pizza, jelly beans, what are you going to ask for next? Ice cream?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re making me fat, young lady. I’ve gained at least fifteen pounds in the last year.”
“I know, right? Me too. At least you’re not alone. It’s us against the world, right, Owen?”
“Yes, it is indeed you and me against the world. But I’m still trying to fatten you up from before, so the extra weight looks amazing on you. Me, not so much.”
He’d pushed his belly out, trying to appear bigger. He was very fit and didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body. He just loved to tease me.
“You said you were going to teach me some new survival skills. Is that still happening?”
I asked eagerly.
“I will, but only if you hand over some of the good jelly beans. Quit being stingy, now.”
I dug in the bag and picked out the last of the red ones. There were about twelve in all. “I was saving these for you.”
I put them in his hand, and he smiled at me, his brown eyes making me feel at home.
That was what Owen was to me: home. And now I was alone once more.
He had taught me so much over the years we were together. I’d learned everything from basic life skills to survival skills. I could hunt, fish, field dress an animal, use a variety of weapons, and more. All thanks to him. Had it already been two years without him?
I shook myself from the memory as Sarah put herself in front of the mirror and waved her hands in my face. “Do you feel any different now that you’re officially legal?”
It looked like no matter how much I’d rather forget it was my birthday, Sarah, the closest thing to a friend I had these days, wasn’t going to let me.
“You have no excuse now. You, me, the club, tonight. It’s going to be epic.”
Her blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, and it swung rhythmically as she warmed up at the barre.
Stepping away from her, I chose not to respond. Instead, I focused on warming up. A year ago, I met Sarah at the dance studio. I couldn’t believe it had been that long. Pain wrapped around my chest, squeezing it in a vise grip, and I knew it had everything to do with the unopened envelope sitting on the kitchen table at home.
I’d told myself I’d open it after dinner tonight. It took everything in me to walk to the safe this morning and pull it out. It had been sitting in there for at least three years. Since I hadn’t asked him anything about the rescue or how we were connected by the time I was eighteen, Owen had written it all down.
I knew ignoring the contents would never help free me from my past. I wished now I would have had him tell me himself. Somehow, reading his words only felt like it would enhance the feelings of loss. I didn’t want to think about it anymore, reminding myself that the envelope wasn’t going anywhere. What’s one more year in the grand scheme of things?
The music pulsed through the system speakers, and I counted out the beats, pulling my legs and executing a perfect grand jeté. The two years I’d spent in captivity performing nothing but ballet had taken its toll. Having it forced upon me only made a once-desired dream something I could barely stomach.
Instead, I now focused on all other forms of dance. Dancing was still my passion, and there was freedom in it being my choice, since I was forbidden to practice any other dance styles while being held captive.
I once dreamed of being a prima ballerina, but not anymore. That hope died when I left that hellhole behind. Instead, I now focused on the energy surging through my veins and used my skills for warming up.
Moving into pirouettes, I allowed my body to act on autopilot. I swiveled my head around, keeping my spine straight, and continued to spin over and over. Sarah called my name, and I came to a stop.
My chest heaved, and I sucked in air to ease my breathing as Mr. Dulaine called the class to the floor. Sarah and I made our way over, and I took a seat next to her as our instructor waited for everyone to quiet down. There was a buzz in the air, and the class was full of energy.
She nudged me and said, “I tried to get us into this one place, but you have to have an invitation, and apparently, those are rarely given. Rumor has it the owners are hot as fuck, but I got us into the next best club. I promise we’ll still have fun. Oh, and if you even try to cancel on me tonight, I’ll tell Jackson you think he’s hot. And then he’ll never leave you alone,”
Sarah teased.
“You wouldn’t? And don’t worry. Unless the world ends and the zombie apocalypse happens, I’ll be ready to go.”
I meant it. There was no way I wanted to be alone tonight. I needed the distraction, and even though I was almost 100 percent positive that the club scene would not be for me, the alternative was simply pathetic.
“Maybe we’ll even get you laid. When was the last time?”
“I mean,”
I stammered, trying to figure out how to respond.
I had never had a boyfriend, so I was still the proud owner of a V card. Living remotely with Owen for all those years, along with my past, made exploring that avenue a bit difficult. I didn’t exactly run into many guys in the off-grid cabin we lived in.
Not to mention, after Owen died, I was more preoccupied with learning to live alone for the first time in my life instead of finding a boyfriend. But this was not something I planned to discuss with Sarah. Thankfully, Mr. Dulaine began the class, and she stopped talking.
“Ladies, gentlemen, I know you remember me mentioning I had something special coming a few months back, and today is the day.”
Mr. Dulaine’s booming voice had quieted everyone.
“What do you think it is?”
Sarah whispered. I shrugged my shoulders, as there was no telling with our instructor. How this little town got someone of his caliber was beyond me, but it was one of the primary reasons I’d moved here a year back.
Mr. Dulaine was thirty-five and stood about five feet eleven. He was married to the sweetest woman, who would often pop in to watch him dance. Specializing in a variety of dance styles made taking classes with him not only interesting but also provided the perfect escape at a time when I needed it the most.
The only issue I had was that he had been persistently trying to get me to fill in as an interim dance coach for ballet. His last instructor had gotten married and moved to Seattle. She’d taught the younger students, and he thought I’d be a great fit for the position. It hadn’t helped that the first replacement instructor he hired didn’t show up to teach.
He’d begged me to step in for that week, introducing me as a guest choreographer to save face with the mothers who paid a pretty penny to have their girls learn from the best. Knowing his reputation was on the line was the only reason I agreed. I barely made it through the week and realized in hindsight why the nightmares had returned.
Ballet was still a hang-up of mine because of my past. And while I still used some ballet moves for my personal warm-up, demonstrating full sets to a roomful of young girls was impossibly difficult. I spent each day that week throwing up as soon as the last girl left.
It was ironic how something so mundane could be the catalyst to unlocking that vault when not even losing the only person who cared for me could. It was at that moment that I knew. I may have come back from the brink, but the journey was nowhere near over. Mr. Dulaine cleared his throat, and Sarah elbowed me hard.
“Ow, that hurt,”
I mumbled, looking over at her. She jerked her head toward our instructor twice, making me realize he must have called my name and I hadn’t heard him.
I went to apologize when my eyes fell on the man standing next to him. Taller than I thought he’d ever be, he had to be over six feet tall. Well-formed muscles were evenly distributed across his frame. He was perfectly proportionate, and his rich brown hair seemed disheveled. He ran his hand through his thick waves, and complete shock registered in his beautiful amber eyes.
This was not happening.
Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I dug into a long-neglected coping mechanism. I became as still as possible, lowering my legs from their current position. I straightened my back and stood up.
“I swear he plays favorites,”
Deborah grumbled. She liked to think of me as her only competition in class, as if this was a performing arts school, and we were both trying out for the lead in the upcoming recital. It was tiresome and so unnecessary.
Dance, for me, was therapy. That was it. I didn’t want a career in it. I didn’t want to be the best, brightest, or anywhere near a stage anymore. Those days were gone, or at least I thought they were. But as luck would have it, the only blast from my past that still existed happened to be standing next to my dance coach.
I needed to have an extensive talk with the creator of the universe and let them know I wanted to return this existence and exchange it for another. This one was entirely too broken. It hardly seemed fair. Pasha recognized me immediately. I could see it in his eyes and in his body language. Even in the way his toes flexed and unflexed. He knew. I squared my shoulders.
Game face on.
This was what I had been working on for the last eleven years. Now it was do or die. Pretending as if I didn’t know him was the best course of action. The part of my life that included him before didn’t exist anymore. I was not that girl. I’d never be her again. Not for him, not for anyone.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”
I aimed an innocent smile at my instructor before darting my gaze back to the man before me. “So this is your surprise? I knew moving here was the best decision I ever made. Hi, I’m Kinsley. It’s an honor to meet you. Pavel Lenkov, right?”
The words flowed from my mouth as if I had rehearsed them for hours, and I purposefully messed up the pronunciation of his name.
“Myshka? Is it really you? How? I don’t understand.”
He looked dumbfounded, as if the air had been knocked out of him. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he looked like he was seeing a ghost. At least one of us was in control. The thought alone made me feel stronger.
“No one can control your emotions but you. It’s up to you to take control. You’re stronger than you know. Believe that, and you can get through any situation life throws at you.”
Owen’s voice echoed loud and clear in my head.
“Do you know each other?”
Mr. Dulaine looked confused.
I laughed. The rich sound was smooth to my own ears and increased my confidence. “Mr. Dulaine, everyone in the dance community knows who this is. Did you do this for my birthday? Best dance coach ever.”
I hugged him, wearing the biggest smile I could muster as my stomach twisted in knots.
Happy fucking birthday, Kinsley.