It appeared as if Carnes had grown protective of Kennedy. Maybe it was guilt for using her as a pawn in his case, or perhaps he wasn’t as bad a guy as that first meeting suggested. Regardless, he’d pushed for Kennedy to file restraining orders against the harassers. She’d refused, stating: “these people have lost enough. I’m not going to take any more from them.” Instead, she’d opted to change her name and basically erase herself from existence.
I knew now that she’d moved to a small town in Oregon where she avoided having her photograph taken and encountering anyone who might recognize her. She paid for the sins of her father by taking as little as humanly possible and giving more than I could fathom in return. It wasn’t an existence that was sustainable. She was punishing herself. And it had to stop.
21
Kennedy
My wake-up callcame in the form of a pounding head and something that smelled like bacon. I pushed up in bed, my hands going to my temples and attempting to rub some relief in there. I tried to blink away the scratchiness behind my eyelids. No luck.
I sniffed the air. It was definitely bacon I smelled. I swung my legs out of bed and stood. The idea of hiding away in this room forever was tempting, but I’d have to face Cain at some point. It might as well be with bacon.
I padded towards the bathroom and winced at my reflection. My eyes were swollen and bloodshot, my hair was a rat’s nest, and there were creases along the side of my face from my pillow—all of it a reminder from the night before.
I closed my eyes against the image of Preston’s face, twisted in anger, in hurt. My brother. My protector. And now, he was nothing. No, it was worse than nothing. There had been hatred in his gaze. Those green eyes flashed over and over in my mind.
I inhaled deeply, forcing my lids open. I wouldn’t let myself wallow. I refused. I’d come too far.The most comfortable bed I’d ever slept in. Someone who cared enough to not let me go home alone. Chuck. Bacon.There was always something to be grateful for. Always.
I released my hold on the sink and gave the cabinets a quick search, finding that the bathroom was, of course, fully stocked. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and attempted to get a brush through my hair. There was nothing else I could do to prolong seeing Cain.
I tiptoed out of my room and headed down the hall towards the kitchen and the smells of breakfast. Cain looked up from the island at the sound of my footsteps. “Hey.”
I twisted my hands in front of me. “Good morning.”
He patted a stool next to him. “Hop on up here. I bribed one of the busboys from the bakery and cafe to bring us out some breakfast.”
I took in the spread in front of me. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, and donuts. “This looks great.”
“Definitely worth the bribe since I’m overdue for a grocery shop. You sleep okay?” An edge of concern slipped into his tone with his question.
I slid onto the stool. “I did. That bed is super comfortable.”
Cain chuckled. “I’ll be sure to tell my decorator.”
I nibbled on a strip of bacon and waited. I was sure the questions were coming, so I needed to stay braced for them. Cain simply poured me a glass of orange juice and went back to his own eggs. “What time do you have to be at work?”
I jolted at the totally normal question. “I, uh, actually don’t work today. Just volunteer at the shelter tonight.” Jensen had started closing the Kettle on Sundays so she could have time with her family. I loved that she’d found that—balance, peace.
“Do you need to pick up Chuck from her?”
“She offered to bring him to me since I don’t have a car, but if you have time to swing by there, I’d love to save her the trip.” I forked a bite of egg, relaxing just a bit.
“Not a problem. We can go get him after we finish breakfast.”
“Thank you.” We continued to eat in silence. I wanted to apologize for last night, but I also didn’t want to give Cain an opening to ask more questions about what had happened with my family. So, I opted for silence.
When I finished eating, I cleared my plate, rinsing it and placing it in the dishwasher. “Do you mind if I wear this home? I’d rather not put on a formal gown first thing in the morning.”
Cain chuckled. “Of course.”
“I’ll wash it and get it back to you ASAP.”
He rose, bringing his own dish to the sink and standing just a breath away from me. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got more where those came from.”
I fingered the hem of the tee. It was perfectly worn and had a hint of the cologne Cain wore. I didn’t want to give it back. But I would. “Thank you.”
Cain turned to face me, one hip leaning against the counter. “You don’t have to thank me for everything. I like doing things for you.”
My nose twitched. “Well, I like thanking you.”