Page 70 of Beautifully Broken Control

“I just—I—” She let out a long breath. “I want to be known by who I am now. Not who I once was.”

I laid my hand next to hers on the dock, just my pinky overlapping with hers. I knew she didn’t want my embrace in this moment, but I needed to touch her, to have that point of contact. “I think most people feel that way. But we can’t erase our pasts. They make us who we are. And, often, it’s the ugly parts that lead to the most beauty.”

“But is the beauty worth all that pain and suffering? And not for me. I would take the pain of losing my family, of knowing the destruction my father caused, over and over again if it meant getting to who I am today. I like that person. But it’s not worth the suffering of all those innocent people.”

I pressed my palms into the rough wood of the dock, the bite of pain from the planks a welcome distraction. “It’s almost never our choice, though. I know it wasn’t yours. That choice was taken away from you.”

Kennedy tipped her face towards the sun, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “Jensen said the same thing.”

“You told her?” I didn’t want to admit to the flare of jealousy that had taken root in my gut.

“She deserved to know who was working for her, who was living in her space. She deserved the truth. The opportunity to ask me to leave if she wanted to.”

I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what Kennedy had just said. “You thought she’d ask you to leave?”

Kenz turned back to me. “I thought it was a possibility. Come on, Cain, can you honestly tell me if you’d found out the truth about me before you came into the Kettle that first time, that you wouldn’t have encouraged her to kick me to the curb?”

I winced. She wasn’t wrong, but it was only because I would’ve been looking at it through the wrong filter. Because I looked at everything that way.Identify the potential threat.But Kennedy was showing me that some things were more important. “But I would’ve been wrong. And I would’ve missed out on knowing one of the most incredible women I’ve ever met.”

Kennedy scoffed. “The most incredible thief, you mean.”

“Oh, bullshit. You haven’t stolen a damn thing in your life.”

“You’re wrong.” The fire blazed in her eyes now. “Every five-course meal, five-star vacation, every single thing I was ever given by that man was stolen from someone else.”

All of the puzzle pieces slipped into place. “You’re punishing yourself.”

Kennedy reared back as if I’d struck her. “What are you talking about?”

“Kenz, you work yourself to the bone and have almost nothing to show for it. You never allow yourself a single luxury, not even a damn bottle of Perrier, and give everything you can away.” I pushed on when Kennedy opened her mouth to argue. “Anna told me what you did for that little girl at your dance studio who couldn’t afford classes anymore. I have no idea how you even afford to eat.”

“I have plenty to show for how hard I work. It might not be private planes and million-dollar mansions, but it’s better than that to me. It’s having self-worth for maybe the first time in my life.”

I gripped the edge of the dock, trying to keep my temper in check. “I’m fucking thrilled you’ve found that, but is it worth putting yourself at risk? Not even having health insurance? No backup, nothing?”

“It’s worth everything!” She screamed the words so loudly, it left her chest heaving. “I could barely look at myself in the mirror for an entire year after it happened. Couldn’t bear the sight of my own face. My family hated me, those who’d invested with my father hated anyone associated with my family name, strangers on the street probably wouldn’t have spit on me if I was on fire.” She sucked in air. “I live with so much guilt. The only way it quiets down is when I give more than I take. When I give, and when I’m grateful.”

God, I knew what it was like to live with guilt, to try and battle that five-ton monster that never seemed to leave you alone. I just had different coping mechanisms than Kennedy. My drug of choice was pushing myself to the point of exhaustion at the gym or work or wherever else I could find that release. So, who was I to judge how Kennedy operated? We were both just trying to cope, to hold on to the little bit of control we could.

“I get it. More than you know, I get it.” I couldn’t hold back from her any longer. It was as if her soul called to mine in a song only the two of us could recognize. A broken siren’s song. And it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.

I slipped my hand under the fall of Kennedy’s hair, sliding my palm up the side of her neck, tipping her head back so I could take her mouth. The move wasn’t as gentle as it should’ve been, but it wasn’t as rough as I wanted it to be either, it was caught somewhere in the middle, just like we were caught between the past and the present.

Her lips parted on a small gasp, and my tongue slipped in, gliding, teasing, testing, waiting for any hint that she wanted me to stop. It never came.

29

Kennedy

I wantedto commit his taste, his feel to memory. The bite of lime from his earlier drink. The warmth of his tongue teasing mine. The pressure of it all. The hint of desperation. Of need. I didn’t want to forget a single thing.

He pulled back then rested his forehead against mine, the only sound that of his breathing and my own heartbeat hammering against my chest. I could feel the battle that warred inside him in how he gripped my neck, how he occasionally forced himself to loosen his hold. But I didn’t want that. I wanted him to hold me tighter. I wanted that wildness he tried to lock away.

I tilted my mouth to his, nipping his bottom lip. Cain groaned. “Take me to bed.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Kenz. The way I’m feeling right now, I could hurt you. You’re just starting to recover and—”

I pressed a single finger to his lips. “You won’t hurt me. I want this. Do you want to touch me?” I trailed that finger from his lips down the column of his neck and let it dip into the opening of his shirt. I unbuttoned the first button.

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