Stripped Raw (11 page)

“Tessa, I want to be there,” Kenzie says. “Zoe wouldn’t have to. . . .”

“When it happens, I want you and Kane to take Zoe to the zoo.”

“The
zoo
?” Kenzie asks. “Are you serious?”

“Give her ice cream for the first time. I want to know she’s living, that she’s happy.” Tessa pauses for a moment. Kenzie is on the verge of tears, but she draws a deep breath, keeping her tears inside. “Can you do that for me?”

This is a lot to process, and I’m not sure how Kenzie’s holding it together. She clearly doesn’t like to show her emotions. Tessa flashes me a look, and suddenly I realize why I’m here, why I was invited. I lean close to Kenzie, letting her body rest on mine, and know it’s time to speak up. “We can do that, right, Kenzie?”

She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Yes, the zoo.”

“Thank you,” Tessa says and takes the little girl, settling her on her lap. “Something good always comes from something bad.”

Kenzie sits quietly as Tessa goes on about funeral arrangements, her eyes fixed on my fingers intertwined with hers. We listen about flowers, music, a burial dress, an open or closed casket. I know Kenzie would rather be talking about treatments, miracles, healers, and alternative therapies. She occasionally digs her nails into my skin and gives me a little smile. That’s what she does—uses smiles and laughter to fight her tears. I pull her a little closer and whisper, “I’ve got you—every step of the way.” Her body relaxes into my chest. Finally! Maybe she’s realizing I have no intention of leaving.

“Now as far as Brandon is concerned,” Tessa says.

Kenzie darts up, her body stiff as a board. “He better not think of showing his cowardly ass anywhere near Zoe!”

“He’s her father,” Tessa says.

“He left you
and
her!”

“I know that,” Tessa says.

“I can’t believe you’d even mention his name after what he did!”

“Kenzie, that’s enough,” Michael says. “Brandon is Zoe’s family. No matter what, he’s her
blood
.”

Kenzie narrows her eyes at the man, ready to explode. I don’t think Michael meant anything by the word, but it doesn’t matter to Kenzie. She took it as a dig. Kenzie looks up at me with her big brown eyes. “Kane, please take me home.”

I glance at Tessa for permission, and she gives a little nod. I flash a tight smile to the rest of the family, thanking them for inviting me, then take Kenzie by the hand and lead her out. There are so many things to discuss, but it isn’t going to happen now.

KENZIE

As soon as
the door closes, I sink to the porch. Michael’s reminder that I’m not “blood” ensures I know my place, that I’m not actually related to any of them. I’m second to everyone, or maybe even third or fourth, and always will be. Brandon—that deadbeat cock—is more part of the family than I am. I close my eyes tightly, holding in my tears. I can’t deal with this right now, on top of all the other horrible things I just heard.

Kane crouches down beside me and grazes my cheek. I need to calm down. I don’t let anyone see me like this. I always have my shit together, with some kind of plan, a focus, a drive. I can’t come undone right before his eyes. Kane scoops me up and carries me towards his car. Part of me is stunned he can actually pick me up—I hope I don’t feel heavy to him—and another part wants to die he’s seeing me this way.

He places me inside, belting me in before smothering me in his arms. It feels incredible but scary. “I’m okay,” I whisper.

His hands go to my cheeks, his eyes focused on mine. “It’s okay not to be okay, Kenzie.”

That almost does it. I almost cave into my emotions, but the truth is, I have to be okay. I have no other choice, and I never really have. My dad left, and my mom had to raise me alone—I had to be okay. When she died, I had to be okay or God knows what Michael would have done. Now I have to be okay for my sister and Zoe. Falling apart is not an option. Who will be there to pick up the pieces if I do? Kane? No man has ever done that before. They want the happy, laughing, got-her-shit-together Kenzie—not the mascara-running, puddle-on-the-floor girl. Who would want that? It’s been hard enough to find someone who wants to be with me on my best day. Who would want to be with me on my worst?

“I’m here,” he says. “I’ll take you home.”

“No,” I say. “Can we go to your place?”

“Don’t you think you’ll be more comfortable at home?”

“It’s sad and depressing there, and I’ll just work. I want a real bed with a real kitchen and a bathtub and. . . .”

“Okay,” he interrupts. “My place.”

Kane gets in the car and drives away. I watch Michael’s house get smaller and smaller in the car mirror. Even though he doesn’t think of me as his own, it’s still hard to see the house disappear into the darkness. That was the last place my mother lived, and most of my memories of her are in that house, when we were all a family. I rest my head against the car window, thankful for the cool glass against my flushed skin, and watch the Dallas landscape roll by, like something out of a postcard.

It’s quiet for a long time. What must Kane be thinking? Maybe I should ask, but I’m afraid of his answer. He just got a front row seat to what I’m facing. Things are happening too quickly. I’m not ready to lose my stepsister, to lose someone else that loves me, someone else I love.

“Why won’t she fight?” I ask.

“She is,” Kane says and pats my thigh.

“She’s surrendered.”

“She’s tired, Kenzie. When’s the last time you
really
looked at her? She’s exhausted, and she’s only got so much fight. It took everything she had to carry Dimples, to give birth to her. And now there’s no treatment that’s working.” He rubs my leg some more. “She’s only got a little fight left in her, and she’s using it to make sure her daughter is happy and taken care of.”

“She wants me to say it’s alright for her to die, and I just can’t.”

“She knows she’s going to die whether or not you accept it. She wants to die knowing you’re at peace.”

“I’m not at peace at all!”

“She knows how hard you’re trying to hold onto her. She knows how much worse it’s going to hurt you when she passes if you don’t allow yourself to say goodbye while you have the chance.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe she wants me to make sure I’ll help you somehow.”

“At least I finally get to see your house,” I say and turn back to the window. “How much further?”

“It’s up here in Highland Park. I grew up in this area.” He makes a few turns, and the stately oak trees and million dollar homes come into view. I lean forward, my hands on the dash, mouth open, taking in each one. He pulls into a flagstone-paved driveway leading to a Georgian-style mansion with thick white columns, dark shutters on the windows and a for sale sign out in front.

“You could be sleeping here instead of crammed in my little bed.”

“There are a lot of perks to a little bed,” he teases.

I feel a small smile on my lips, my first in what seems like hours. “Why are you selling?” I ask then quickly regret the question. I already know the answer. That’s why he hasn’t brought me here before. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Lily and I bought it a few years ago,” he says. “She hasn’t lived here in a while.”

“That’s her name? Lily?”

Kane nods. “Not the best memories here. Not what I ever expected would happen—a lot of bad shit. If you feel weird being here, then. . . .”

“I’m fine. I mean, I asked to come,” I say, my stomach clenching a little. “But if me being here makes you feel weird, then. . . .”

“It has nothing to do with you,” he says.

Kane comes around to open my door. Is this a good idea to come to Lily’s old house, particularly when I know nothing about her—what she looks like, who she is, whether she works, why she married and divorced Kane, where she lives now? This could blow up in my face, and I’ve been through enough tonight.

Kane leads me inside the house, taking me room by room through the downstairs. He’s always so polished—the seasoned, sexy lawyer—but not now. He’s guarded, nervous, unsure and not saying a thing on the tour other than the name of each room: “Kitchen . . . den . . . library.” I don’t see any personal photos, nothing to indicate a woman ever lived here.

He opens another door and quickly shuts it. “Master bedroom and bath.”

“What’s upstairs?” I ask.

“Just more bedrooms,” Kane says and leads me towards a set of French doors lining the back of the house. He flicks on a switch, and lights cascade over a pool and hot tub with luscious landscaping all around. I step outside, the night breeze blowing my hair. “Would you like to go for a swim?”

“I’d feel a little weird,” I say. “This is your house with Lily. It’s her pool. It feels like I’m trespassing.”

“But you said that. . . .”

“Now that I’m here, it just feels wrong, like I’m the other woman or something.”

“I don’t want you to feel that way. I can take you home,” he says. “But just so you know, Lily never went in the pool—not once. She can’t swim.”

“Then why did you buy a house with a pool?”

“She thought it was pretty to look at.”

I reach for his hand. “I’m sorry I’m not myself. It’s been a hard night. Maybe we could use the pool another time. Please take me home.”

Kane kisses my forehead. “I’ll just grab my keys.”

I wander around the water’s edge, thankful Kane doesn’t seem upset I want to go, and spot a pool house on the far side. I bet he has a huge TV in there, some cool lounge furniture, maybe a wet bar, too. This would be a cool hangout on a sweltering Texas day. I stick my nose to a window but can’t see anything. It’s dark inside. I walk around and try the door. It opens.

Reaching for a light, my eyes grow huge, and my pulse quickens. I look behind me to check whether Kane’s coming out. There’s no sign of anything but lights dancing on the water. Maybe I should just turn off the light, shut the door, and walk back to the pool. Another day, another time, I may have done that. But now I’m strangely drawn inside to what I see—boxes and boxes of frames and memories holding Kane’s life, his marriage.

I run my hand along a few boxes, and my eyes are drawn to a large frame leaning against a wall, a portrait of Kane kissing Lily on their wedding day. She’s beautiful, thin, sexy, like one of the European lingerie models I used to work with. She’s better looking than I’ll ever be, and Kane looks completely enamored with her. I know that look. I see it every time Kane looks at me. To see him looking at her that way is a kick to my gut. It hurts even though it shouldn’t. He was married to her. I know he loved her, but that doesn’t stop the pain in my heart.

“Kenzie?”

My hurt turns to trembling. I’m busted. I shouldn’t have snooped around in the pool house. I turn around, finding Kane holding his keys. He doesn’t look mad. “I’m sorry I came in here.”

“Lily hasn’t had a chance to go through this stuff yet. That’s why it’s still here. Otherwise, I would’ve torched it a long time ago.”

“She’s very pretty,” I say, my voice shaking.

“Parts of her.”

“You look so in love with her.”

“At one time, I was,” he says, and in one step, he is right in front of me. “But I’m not anymore.”

KANE

Partner meetings are
so boring. I put a hand over my mouth to stifle a yawn. I don’t know why I bother to hide it. I bring in more money than any of these guys, but I still have to suffer through these meetings once a month. And this morning the meeting is running particularly long—as if my partners forgot it is better to spend time billing clients than going over financial statements and congratulating each other.

Why in the hell did I leave Kenzie alone in bed for this? I look down at my watch, anxious to call her. The night wore us both out, and I couldn’t bear to wake her before I left. She finally looked calm, peaceful, so I left a note on her pillow.
Good morning, beautiful.
I still want to call and check on her before I leave for California. The timing for my trip couldn’t be worse. I know Kenzie needs me right now, even if she’s trying to hide it.

When the meeting ends, I head to my office, and my secretary greets me with a series of phone messages and a just-filed emergency motion that I have to oppose before the close of business. Fuck! I promised myself I wouldn’t let work come between a woman and me. I give Kenzie a quick call on her cell, but it goes straight to voicemail. Maybe she’s still sleeping or off working herself. She’s busy, too.

Slumped in my chair, I get busy returning the calls then spend the rest of the day cranking out the opposition brief. It takes every second of the day to get my work done. It’s late now, well past dinnertime. This needs to stop. I shut off my computer and survey my desk. There are books and files everywhere, but it can all wait until I get back from California.

I’ll call Kenzie as I’m heading to the airport. I miss her voice. Just have to grab my briefcase, and I’ll be out of here. Mona pokes her head in. “Mr. Hunter, I know you asked me not to disturb you, but there’s a young woman here in the lobby to see you.”

I immediately smile. Maybe Kenzie is surprising me with a little going away present—one of her sexy little designs. Should have cleared off my desk so I can bend her over. . . .

“She says she’s Kenzie’s sister.”

“Tessa’s here?” I say, pushing open the door and making my way to the lobby.

“I’m sorry to bother you at work,” Tessa says, struggling to stand.

“Don’t get up,” I say. “It’s not a bother. How long have you been here?”

“Not too long. I told your secretary that I’d wait until you were free. I didn’t make an appointment or anything.”

“You’re not ever to be kept waiting to see me—same as Kenzie.” I take a seat beside her. “What’s going on?”

“Kenzie told me how great you were to her last night after she left so upset. I wanted to thank you for helping her, to tell you in person.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Kenzie’s the toughest person I’ve ever met,” Tessa says.

“She doesn’t think so.”

Tessa grins a proud smile. “She thinks because she’s scared, she’s not tough. But it’s not fear that makes us weak. It’s how you respond. Some people let fear paralyze them, or they run from it. My husband was the perfect example, but not Kenzie. She sees fear and charges at it like a matador. How else can you explain moving to Europe all by herself at twenty-two? When she found out I was sick and Brandon left, I called her hysterical and made her promise she’d raise Zoe. Within forty-eight hours, she quit her job, packed her bags, and flew back home.”