Chapter 42
Kinsley
Home Again
Gently lapping waves rocked the boat. The sky was heavy and gray, and a storm threatened to unleash itself. By the smell, it would be soon. Nonetheless, it was beautiful and peaceful here.
The memories were bittersweet. How many days had Owen and I sat in this little boat, quietly contemplating life while we waited for our lines to jerk?
For the first time in weeks, a semblance of serenity had taken over. Here, amid the stillness of nature, there was safety. It was more than home; it was where I found my sanity and where the secrets of my past came to die.
I had some major decisions to make. Asking myself the harder questions was easy, but answering them, not so much. What kind of life did I want? How was I going to achieve that? What steps were mandatory for me to take to begin?
Maybe coming here would give me space to think it through. I knew it was impulsive to leave as I did, but I’d kept the property here in Skagit for this reason.
I knew that at any moment, I could walk through the doors of the cabin Owen and I built and feel his presence. After my freakout with Alek, I needed this more than ever.
One by one, I let the memories of my past take up space. It was a trick I’d learned. Conscientiously, I’d let them loose, only to gather them right back up. I’d mentally condense them into pieces of paper in folders.
I’d lock them up in a briefcase, tie them with heavy chains, and then chuck them overboard. As the first few drops of rain hit my face, I grabbed the rock I’d picked up from the shore.
The fish weren’t biting today, anyway, so I chucked it overboard, whispering the words, “I control you, not the other way around.”
It was symbolic, but it always worked, and tonight was no different. I watched the rock sink and the resulting ripples on the lake. The rain fell harder, and I knew I needed to get back. I was shivering by the time I finally pulled the boat ashore. With everything secured, I made my way back to the cabin.
It was rustic but charming and had a wraparound porch that, many a day and night, brought a sense of coziness and warmth for me and Owen. The cabin’s exterior was clad in weathered wood, giving it that timeless appearance that blended seamlessly with the surrounding landscape.
As I approached, I heard voices. I slowly pulled my blade out and snuck closer. Becoming annoyed at the British accents, I sheathed my blade. How the heck did they find me?
“Where could she be? It’s fucking teeming,”
Ivan King bellowed.
“Your guess is as good as mine. With 250 acres at her disposal, anywhere would be my answer.”
Nikolai’s soft drawl filtered through the rain.
The porch had two rocking chairs, perfect for sitting in to read or enjoy a cup of tea. It should have been empty, but instead, Nik was sitting in one of the chairs while Ivan paced the porch. I walked toward them, my boots squelching in the mud as the rain pounded down. The cold droplets seeped through my clothing and left me shivering.
“There you are. What the bloody hell? You’re soaked through. I swear, little girl, you need a nanny or something. Have you lost your mind?”
Nik thundered as I casually walked up the steps.
“I can take care of myself.”
The temperature had dropped, and I was cold enough that my teeth were chattering. But I’d be damned if I admitted it to them.
With a grunt of annoyance, I bent down to remove my boots. My fingers slipped, and I fumbled with the wet laces, trying to get the damned things loose. “Why are you here?”
I demanded, finally managing to tug one foot free from the soggy leather.
“Checking on you. Now, how about you invite us in, shower, change, and we can talk,”
Nik suggested.
“I’ve got nothing to say to you, to any of you. As you can see, I’m fine, now leave. You’re disturbing my peace.”
I went to remove my other boot and managed to stumble backward, barely catching myself. And if the universe were my friend, which it wasn’t, the boot would have at least come off with my less-than-graceful show. But it didn’t.
Nik smoothly knelt down and yanked my boot, causing me to squeal as I tried to find my balance, dance training failing me in equal measure. Tsking me like a foolish child, the Crow deftly untied it.
“Malyshka, Ivan and I aren’t going to be leaving anytime soon. It’s coming down too hard, and I got an alert that the road is closed.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I yanked my socks off. “You can stay in your car. I didn’t ask you to come up here, and maybe you should have checked the weather before you did,”
I fumed, feeling frozen through.
I walked into the cabin and shut the door. Ten seconds later, it slammed open, and Ivan barreled through it. I unsheathed my knife and whirled to face him, clocking the distance—less than five feet. Tapping into muscle memory, I flung it underhanded by the handle, and it whizzed through the air.
I stared in awe as he caught the sharpened edge, flipped the blade, and dropped it before stalking toward me. The look on his face was a cross between admiration and fury. My breath caught in my throat. Stark hunger swirled in his eyes, too, and in the span of three seconds, he was standing before me.
Grabbing me by the arms, he pulled me close to him and growled, “I don’t know if I should kiss you or spank your ass.”
“Game night’s over, if you hadn’t noticed, and I don’t have the right hair color,”
I huffed, both of us breathing heavily as tension wrapped its arms around us. Ivan’s eyes flared and his cheek twitched.
“I’d suggest holding off on spanking her ass, Brother. Seeing as that’s what got us into this mess,”
Nikolai said, closing the door softly.
Ivan’s grip was fierce, every bit as dangerous as Alek’s was possessive. Images of being bent over Ivan’s lap unleashed a burning desire inside me that shocked me to the core.
“Down, Ivan. Let her go. Her lips are damn near blue, and she’s going to crack a tooth if she’s not careful.”
Ivan smirked and let me go. I stumbled back, and he reached his hand out to steady me. Once I was firmly rooted to the floor, I slapped his hand away. I stalked toward my room and slammed the door. I wanted to scream in frustration, at myself, at my reaction to Ivan.
What the hell is wrong with me?
My head throbbed. I quickly disrobed and climbed into the shower. The hot water stung like little knife cuts, and strangely enough, it calmed me down. Twenty minutes later, I made my way toward the kitchen, a bemused smile playing at the corner of my lips.
The sight that greeted me was nothing short of comical as Ivan and Nikolai stood staring at the stove, their faces twisted in frustration. Leaning against the doorframe, I continued staring.
“Like I know how to use one of these things? What do I look like, a goddamn chef?”
Ivan shouted. His exasperated voice echoed through the kitchen, punctuated with several random Russian words that I was almost positive were curses.
Nikolai, undeterred by Ivan’s outburst, calmly remarked, “You’ve got the temperament of one. Now quit your baby crying and pull up the model so we can figure this shit out.”
With my amusement growing, I approached them. “Step away from the stove, gentlemen, before one of you blows us all up.”
My eyes locked with Nikolai’s as I reached for the kettle in his hands. He quickly pulled it away, holding it hostage. I put my hands on my hips as a mischievous glimmer danced in his eyes. “Either you give me the kettle, or no one gets tea. Don’t be foolish.”
There was a brief moment in which his eyes went soft, almost vulnerable, and I heard Ivan suck in a deep breath. Just as quickly, the look vanished. Holding my gaze a minute more, he thrust the kettle toward me, an unspoken connection having just passed between us.
I was desperate to distract myself from it, so I pinched the sides of the knob together, disengaged the safety guard, and easily flicked my wrist, igniting the stove.
Before I could even react, Ivan’s huge hand swung out. “See, I told you that was what we should do, but you never listen.”
His palm connected solidly with the back of Nik’s head. The sound of the impact reverberated through the kitchen.
Nik’s head jerked forward in response, but a Machiavellian grin instantly spread across his face. He reacted swiftly, retaliating by lunging forward and attempting to catch Ivan off guard. Their movements were fast, fueled by a blend of competitiveness and what could only be described as pure joy as they wrestled around like boys.
As they tumbled to the floor, the sounds of their scuffle, intertwined with cursing and grunts as blows landed, had my temper flaring. They were going to break something and really piss me off.
“Dostatochno,”
I roared, my voice bouncing through the small space. Enough. Instantly, I felt the weight of the word as it hung in the air.
Nik’s playful wrestling came to an abrupt halt, his eyes meeting mine soft and uncharacteristically sad. I caught a glimpse of something deeper within him, but, damned the man, the moment passed just as quickly. He flashed me a playful grin and righted himself.
On the other hand, Ivan’s reaction was far more profound. I glanced down at the giant sprawled across my kitchen floor, and waves of emotions washed over his face. Longing and pain flickered in his eyes, as if me telling them enough had touched a deep part of him.
I was completely thrown, and I wanted to rush over and hold him. Sensing the tension, Nik reached down to help Ivan up, straightened his shirt, then smacked him once more for good measure.
Wanting to take back control of the situation, I spoke again. “I suggest the two of you sit your asses down like civilized men or get the fuck out.”
“Alek doesn’t like that word, remember?”
Nik said with a smirk.
I raised an eyebrow, my tone firm. “My house, my rules, and I don’t see the old man, do you?”
I challenged.
They both began laughing. I threw a towel at Ivan. “Your brother drew blood. Better see to that.”
“Fucker,”
Ivan snarled, putting the towel to his lip.
“I suppose the two of you are hungry and expect me to cook you something, since you’re incapable of even putting the kettle on properly,”
I retorted, my tone laced with irritation.
Opening the refrigerator, I took stock of some of our possibilities. I grabbed the bacon I had planned to use for tomorrow and quickly pivoted, deciding we’d have breakfast for dinner.
“You cook?”
Ivan’s voice rang out with curiosity, sounding strangely like a little kid.
I sighed, my annoyance momentarily overshadowed by the absurdity of his question. “Yeah, since I was ten. It’s a skill you should probably look into,”
I answered dryly.
Casually leaning back against the counter, he dabbed at his lip, drawing my eyes to them. Damn, maybe I definitely should have kissed those instead of his tattoo. And, of course, since my mind went there, I had to look at it. He flexed the muscles on his forearm, making it ripple and causing me to gasp.
A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. “You give lessons?”
he inquired, his voice dripping with playful innocence.
“Nope, only ballet, and I’m fresh out of extra tutus and slippers.”
I’d pulled the cast iron skillet from under the cabinet and twirled it in my hand as I glared at Ivan.
“Why did you leave?”
Nik asked.
He’d taken a seat at the table, and my breath caught in my throat. He was sitting in Owen’s chair. From the look on my face, he must have realized it. He quickly got up and resituated himself in a different one. Ivan took one of the empty ones, and I turned back to cooking.
“I don’t have gluten-free, fat-free, or vegan options. Sorry if you’re into that,”
I said, trying to calm my racing heart. It’s just a chair, Kinsley.
“It’s fine. Whatever you make is good,”
Nik said softly, seemingly sensing my discomfort. I was glad he didn’t make a big deal out of it.
The kettle let out a piercing whistle, cutting through the silence that had settled in the kitchen. I moved swiftly, turning off the stove and carefully moving it. With a sense of detachment, I placed three cups on the table.
Their eyes followed my every move as I went through the motions. Gathering the tea container, milk, and sugar, I breathed deeply, allowing the familiar weight of the items to ground me.
“Baby girl,”
Nik drawled, his timbre laden with wonder. “You know what it takes to make a proper cup of tea? Hell, you even have the top brands. Impressive.”
“I’m cultured, what can I say?”
The sarcasm dripped. “How do you like your eggs, or would you prefer pancakes? That’s what’s for dinner. Take it or leave it.”
“Scrambled,”
they both called out, making me laugh. I should have left them to fend for themselves, but they’d probably starve.
The more I moved around the kitchen, the more controlled I became. I found solace in the familiarity of cooking for someone other than myself. It was a natural thing for me—at least in this space, it was.
How many meals had I cooked at this very stove for Owen? Too many to count. The clattering of pots and pans, the wash-as-you-go system I’d been taught, and the sizzling sounds filled the space, providing me some clarity.
As I cooked, my focus shifted solely to the task at hand. I didn’t have to wonder why the hell two Kings were present and accounted for while the third was glaringly missing. I didn’t have to think about what they wanted from me now. I channeled my energy into the food before me. Once it was all ready, I carefully arranged everything on the table, fighting back a sob as I almost set a place for Owen. I had to turn to compose myself.
“You’re excellent at multitasking. This looks wonderful. Thank you,”
Nik said. I nodded at him and took a seat at the table. After a few minutes, Nik asked me, “Why are you hiding up here?”
Damn him and his stubbornness. My eyes flashed to his tattoo. It was fitting that it was a crow. Crows were intelligent creatures, with proportionally big brains. Nikolai King was nothing if not intelligent.
“Who says I’m hiding, Crow?”
My fork pierced through the pancake on my plate. I took a deliberate bite, avoiding his gaze as I savored the smooth texture of the maple syrup.
“You even eat beautifully,”
he crooned, which caused me to whip my eyes open and glare at him.
I wanted to shove the entire pancake in my mouth in response and only barely refrained from doing so. Knowing him, he’d whisper “atta girl,”
followed by some strange King-like sexual innuendo.
“You told Sarah you needed to get away, called into work, and in case you didn’t realize, you’re about two hours away from home,”
he pointed out, his voice once again insistent on pressuring me.
Picking up a piece of bacon, I pointed it at him. “Wow, you went to a lot of trouble to get all that information,”
I remarked dryly. “Too bad it’s not any of your business,”
I said, biting into it savagely, hoping that I looked crazed. Maybe he’d back off. Why do they even care?
Nik’s brow furrowed, a flicker of exasperation crossing his features while Ivan remained quiet, too busy attacking the eggs on his plate. “Now I’m beginning to see why Alek is so frustrated,”
he declared.
“What? Alisha can’t keep up with his demands?”
Ivan sniggered as he shook his head, motioning for the syrup. After handing it to him, I turned to Nik with a sweet smile. “Maybe he should expand his horizons, give Jenna a try. Either way, not my monkey, not my circus,” I said.
Wonderful, I sounded like a pathetic, lovesick girl.
Nik smirked and said, “Oh, baby girl, he has access to Jenna anytime. I’m an excellent sharer. I thought you knew that.”
I dropped my fork. He had to be joking. Ivan roared. After I’d gotten back, Sarah filled me in on why Jenna was so territorial. It was reduced down to one little word. Alisha. Her best friend, and I guess Alek’s sub, or so I’d thought, but now who knew. I stared at him, dumbfounded, trying to fathom how something like that worked.
How’s that for information? Happy now, stupid girl? Keep torturing yourself.
“Don’t look so incredulous. It’s a mutually beneficial thing.”
I choked on my tea, feeling embarrassed. I may not have vast knowledge of men, but sharing a woman? That wasn’t normal. The King brothers continued to confuse me, and I had no idea what to make of them.
With renewed vigor, I piled two more pancakes onto my plate and tried to gather my wits. “Sounds more like an invitation to every STD on record. I guess to each their own. You on board with that madness too?”
I asked Ivan, ignoring the look Nik gave me.
“Nope. My blade is 100 percent dedicated to blondes. Like Sarah,”
he quipped.
“Well, there’s this thing called hair dye. There’s still a chance for you to join your brothers on the highway to STD hell. You just need to make an appointment for Alisha and Jenna at the salon.”
“Nah, I’m good. Though, I wonder now that you’ve brought it up. Have you ever considered dying your hair blond?”
He winked. The giant lug of a man had the audacity to wink at me. I was about to tell him to go to hell when Nik interrupted.
“You seem overly worried about STDs. Let me put your mind at ease. We’re extra careful in that department. Three-month checkups and protection are always used. Every time, so no need to worry your pretty little head.”
“Not worried in the least. Curious, though, how that protection works for oral? Is that why the three-month checkups?”
I sneered.
“Alek will be touched that you’re so worried. I wonder how you know about Alisha?”
“I’m not worried,”
I yelled, then realized how loud my voice was. I quietly added, “And Sarah, duh. Girls talk.”
I got up from the table and took my plate over to the sink. Taking several cleansing breaths, I focused on getting my emotions under control.
“There’s only two beds and a couch. Since you both are nine feet tall, you can have the beds.”
“That’s not necessary,”
Nik insisted.
Feeling foolish for yelling, I turned on the water to start the dishes. A few minutes later, they each brought their plates over. I could feel their stares on my back.