Page 15 of Burning Truths
Walking away he leaves us standing here feeling useless.
“Is this how it’s going to be from now on?” I ask.
Feeling like the little kid that had his favorite toy stolen, I swallow down the rock stuck in the back of my throat.
Slapping a hand on my back West laughs, “We’re just the middle men, little brother. I wouldn’t get too close to Kenna when he’s like this.” His laugh jostles me. “Keep your empath powers to a minimum, Cole. It’ll kill you one day. There’s no reason to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
Wise words from the playboy bullshitter himself. West takes nothing serious and is always ready for the next party. It takes effort to keep my eyes from rolling but I manage to only let a scoff escape.
With those last words he heads to his room. Most likely calling one of the many girls bound to fall at his feet when beckoned. Me? I make my way to the security wing of our house, making sure our defenses are in place. If our fathers are preparing for something, I plan to be the first one to see it coming. I may be the younger brother, Ryker may be the head of our hydra, but I’ll always be one step ahead of them.
Protecting this family falls to the one who has no blind spots. If that means pushing Kenna away to keep us all safe, then it’s a move I’ll make to keep the princess alive.
Chapter Nine
KENNA
One Month Later
Faded grey flashes in and out of view with each blink. From field to reality. Painted blue walls surround me in an updated room. The loss of Kenna Kingston is too strong. Smearing dark burgundy lipstick over my chapped lips, I offer up a broken smile to the woman in the mirror. A thin white spring dress hangs off my form like a poorly cut sheet that’s two sizes too big. A forbidden name swallowed down by compliance and fear. The thoughts in my head fighting against the cage I’ve shoved them into.
You’re giving up.
Shaking off the accusation I suck in a deep breath.
Thirty days is like a lifetime when your stomach aches from lack of real nutrition. Four seven day periods back to back. Four weeks. 730 hours. One meal a day. I scoff out a dry laugh at the thought of sandwiches and scraps being a fucking meal. Behind my eyelids the field is slowly fading into something I don’t recognize. The beating organ in my chest pinches withthe realization. Rubbing my lips together, I blow her a kiss and turn to face the door that’s due to open any minute. He’s never late for his lessons. The ones where he teaches me how to be the prize toy he’s always dreamed of. The ways of Old and Elite ones I turned away, instead choosing torture, has now become my everyday. It’s a new kind of painful, but today I plan on collecting what he’s promised me.
The distant sound of footsteps heading my way alerts me to his pending arrival. One second. One minute. Three minutes. The handle twists, the green painted door swings open and Hank steps over the threshold..
His once salt and pepper hair now dark as night. His beard is long gone with nothing but stubble left on his cheeks. Hank comes to stand in front of me, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. Rolling his shoulders back, he stands there silently, waiting to see what my next move will be.
With a weary smile plastered on my boney face, I reach out and place my pale hand on his arm. Flashes of grey come back, but I shove them back down. Ry- my entire body locks when I start to think of his name. No. No, I can’t let myself go there.
Why not? He wouldn’t even recognize the person you’ve become. It’s a good thing he’s abandoned you.
My mouth fills with bile at the reminder that I’m truly alone for the first time in my life. Swallowing down the feeling of self hatred my eyes meet his.
“Hank.” I say, my words are velvet soft.
He nods with approval. His empty eyes assess me with care, yet something about the way he glides over my chest has my skin itching. Can he see it? Can he see that his name almost crossed my mind? Is my smile faltering? My heart hammers in my chest with unease, the need to please the man before me unlike any other I’ve ever felt. My mouth dries at the realization of my situation, but still I wait for his command. Need it. Crave thefreedom of the collar that’s pressed against my throat. Drinking down the words I want to speak, I ask the one thing that I fear I may never get.
“I want to show you something. You deserve to know the truth.” Hank says.
The hair on the back of my neck raises with the tender tone of his words. Like he’s about to tell me some long lost family member died.
“Okay.” I breathe out.
Pulling his phone from his pocket he slides his thumb over the screen a few times and turns it towards me. My hand trembles but I place it palm up anyway. His eyes never leave mine as he gently drops the phone inside my hand. My muscles tense when our skin touches but when no pain comes, I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Lifting the phone to my face I scan the photo trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. The background comes into focus first, my mind fighting the scene in front of me, showing the campgrounds at school. The wide shoulders of West is hoisting Ally over his shoulder but her face is hidden in his back yet the laugh falling from his lips shows their happiness. To the left Oakley and Ryker stand with two faces I don’t know in a small circle talking. Ryker has his usual broody mask on but it’s the hand on his shoulder that has ice running through my veins.
My throat closes. Small, green painted, dainty hands grip his shoulder. The unknown woman to his right looks up at him with bright eyes.
Her hand. It’s all I can see. Ryker looking down at her in a heated conversation. West, Ally, Oakley. They all fade until all I can focus on is Ryker and this new woman. She’s beautiful. Her thick stature and long braided hair pulling my attention from the contact she has on him.
“Princessa, they’ve forgotten about you. You’re place is here with me where we can build our own empire.” Hank slips his hand around my wrist tugging the phone out of my face.
I lick my dry lips trying to swallow around the thickness in my throat. No words form on my tongue. My eyes drift closed, rolling back, only to spring back open. The faint smell of lilies wafting through my nose makes my eyes water but I refuse to let them fall.