Page 13 of Burning Truths
We freeze. The plea sounding closer. More clear.
“They’ve opened the door.” Ryker grunts out.
West finally looks up with darkened eyes, “They want us to hear. Dad’s entire training method is barbaric, but this seems far past that. He’s testing us.” Caution laces his tone, eyes bouncing around the room.
I ball my fists at my side from the raw anger coursing through my veins, each step gaining speed, but I don’t act on it. Not yet. I have to remind myself that there is always a point to our fathers ways. Kingston’s and Stone’s are bred to know pain. It’s in our blood from the day we’re born. What I don’t understand is why Kenna is key to all of this. She’s a princess in her own right, born to take over for her father as the only child to his name.
“She’s being trained to become one of our wives.” Ryker snaps. Answering my internal questions. “She has to learn what that means. Being at risk is the very reason for this madness.” His words may agree with our fathers but the venom in his voice warns of something darker.
Reality finally snaps into place. And the meaning of what his words hold causes my next step to falter. Kenna Kingston is ours to protect, love and cherish, but she’s not ours tolove.Her blonde hair and bright gray eyes shine in my thoughts, but only in the way a brother loves his sister. Full of admiration and protectiveness, and I would tear any fucker limb by limb if they ever hurt her. Including any of our own.
“She’s family.” I state. It’s not a question, but a reminder that she’s off limits to our touch.
West pushes off the wall, pounding his feet until he’s a few paces in front of me. His brown eyes look at me with question, but it’s the other Stone brother that responds.
“Kenna is off limits to the Elite Law.” He snaps, shoving off the far wall near the window. The night sky spans endlessly beyond the back of the house.
Elite Law. Filthy old men and money hungry women built those long ago. Bloodlines must be carried on in wealth and social class. A Kingston and a Stone together would create a new foundation for our world.
Whimpers can be heard from beyond the bedroom door, and my patience has run thin. Fisting both my hands, I spin to face my brother.
“And yet here we are!” my arms expand at my sides, gesturing to the room, “We’re standing here hearing her cries, listening to her as she wails, pleading for the torture to end and do nothing!” My voice bounces around us like a lethal bullet waiting to maim its victim.
“The law is in place for a reason.” West says, his tone low, aggravation evident.
Ryker steps closer, the swift movement of his feet coming to a halt as he stands at the point of our makeshift triangle.
“Kenna Kingston has been promised to a Stone. Elite Law and the foundation can’t touch her unless one of us refuses marriage.” Ryker’s eyes bounce between us, waiting for us to put the pieces together. Kenna can’t be promised to another or married off to a sleazy fucker without one of us turning her away.
Footsteps sound in the hall, it barely registers as my stare bores into Ryker’s, willing him to hear all of my thoughts. The door closing is the only thing that has me whipping my head towards the door, both of my brothers following suit. Another ear piercing screech fills the space around us, no longer muffled on the other side of the door.
Red paints my vision. Rage for Kenna, anger at our fathers, and disgust at us for standing by. So, I do what a Stone would do when one of us is on the line. I go for our girl.
Ryker’s hand lashes out, gripping my arm and yanking me back. Whirling around, I slam my palms on his chest, a low growl escaping my throat.
“Get the fuck off me Rye.” I bare my teeth with the warning.
His brown eyes darken, “What exactly is your plan, Cole? Run down there and rescue her? Be her knight in shining armor?” He scoffs, “Dad and Kingston are doing what’s best for her!”
Jerking my arm from his hold, my hands fist his shirt dragging him closer, so close our noses touch. “She’s one of us.” My eyes look him over, ignoring the way his lip trembles with unbridled rage. He can fool everyone else but I see right through him.
“Cole’s right.” West says.
Shoving him away, I turn to leave when he reaches for my shoulder. Rolling it back to avoid his grip, I take one swing landing a hit to his jaw before storming to the door.
“Where do your loyalties lie?” I toss over my shoulder.
Jerking the door open, I’m met with two sets of tired eyes. Sunken and saddened, but firm in their rules. One reserved in the truth while the other covering hatred for his daughter. Because how can a man torture his own child, a fifteen year old, for the sake of training her to take his place? It’s barbaric and out of touch with the times. Yet, there they stand before us covered in sweat and guilt, but they get no sympathy from me.
“Go take care of her, son. She needs you all.” Kingston says.
Damn near sprinting from the room, I make it to the basement door in less than a minute before I’m throwing it open, the sound of it slamming against the wall barely registers as I continue my descent down the stairs. West stops at the top of the landing behind me, but I don’t slow my speed. Storming down the steps, my body jolts to a stop when I see a red faced Kenna sitting in a chair in the center of the concrete room. Only a table,water bowl, and towel in front of her. Her once long blonde hair is matted to her head, sweat and fuck knows what else staining the strands.
“Princess.” I whisper. My voice almost breaks, but I swallow it down and hide the horror on my face with a smirk. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
Making my way to her, it takes effort to blink away the pain across my face when I see how truly broken she feels. Her grey eyes are stormy, like a raging sea, and her hair has lost its shine. Bending at the knee until I’m eye level with her, I push strands of hair from her red cheeks and give her a tight smile.
She isn’t marked or bloody in the way I expected. Waterboarding someone forces them to fight every natural instinct they have. To breathe, to lean their head forward, to fight. That mixed with being starved, locked in a basement with no lights for days, it’s easy to break someone this way. And she’s been broken. Kenna looks past me at the wall as if she’s lost in her own thoughts. I hope they’re nicer than what’s right in front of her.