Page 52 of Wrecked
I practiced what to say over and over while navigating through the traffic. Cities weren't for me anymore, I'd felt caged in the moment the tall buildings had come into view. But if this was where Kenzie's life was, I'd make the change for her.
When I'd left Willow Creek, I had been determined that I would bring her back with me. I hadn't reckoned in the fact that she had family and friends, not to mention her job. It would be selfish to ask her to give it all up.
No, I wouldn't do that. I needed her more than I needed open spaces and quiet. The voice on the application told me I had arrived at my destination. I stared at the three-story building and mused to myself that the only good thing that ever came out of it was Kenzie.
Slowing to a roll, I followed the rounded driveway that led to the house. To my right and left were expertly trimmed shrubs in various sizes and colors. Even with the window closed, the sound of running water filled my ears. I looked around and counted eight strategically placed fountains.
There was no doubt that it was as beautiful as it was impressive, but I wondered how often they actually came outside and just enjoyed the view. To my right I spotted a tree with thick, reaching branches; it would be the perfect spot to build a swing or a tree house.
I knew that Kenzie didn't have those things growing up; it didn't fit into her parents' plan for her life. Turning off the ignition, I stared at the big, white doors and vowed that if she'd let me, I'd give her all those things and more.
The walk from my truck to the front of the house felt equivalent to walking the plank. With every step I took, I searched and searched but didn't see a red Mazda anywhere. Well, I was here now. I pulled the golden knocker and dropped it twice.
On the other side of the open door stood a short, plump woman with gray-streaked black hair. She looked older, but I could have sworn it was the same woman who worked here when Kenzie and I had dated.
"I would like to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Michaels, please." I inhaled deeply. "It's important."
She made a face, and I was sure she was about to tell me to get off the property, but then she motioned for me to come inside. Once she closed the door, she spoke in a hushed tone, "Follow me."
Silently, I trailed behind her as she led me down a hallway into a room I assumed was Mr. Michaels' office. "Wait here," she ordered before she turned to leave.
"Thank you," I muttered at her retreating back.
There was no way I would be able to sit still. I moved to the bookcase and inspected the items on it. Running a finger across their spines, I took note of some of Mr. Michaels' reading materials:The Art of War, Memoirs of an Infantry Officer, The War Poems, The Old Huntsman.
A myriad of business awards adorned the shelves along with the books and art pieces, but it was a photo of a young Kenzie that caught my eye. She had to be about seven or eight in it. Usually, kids that age would be grinning at the camera, showing off their teeth—or gums. Not in this picture though. With her back ramrod straight, Kenzie sat behind a desk with an expression so serious it made my heart hurt.
"Ah, that's a wonderful photo."
The suddenness of her father's voice startled me. I returned the photo to its spot and walked over to the man who'd just entered the room. With my hand held out, I greeted him, "Mr. Michaels. My name is—"
"I know who you are," he looked at my outstretched hand but made no move to grip it. "What do you want?"
Just as I dropped my hand, Mrs. Michaels entered. I might've been wrong, but the woman looked like she'd been crying. Without acknowledging me, she turned to her husband. "Shall I ask Selma to bring in refreshments?"
Mr. Michaels' harsh, "No," bounced off the walls. If he thought that he was going to intimidate me, he was wrong. "What. Do. You. Want?" He punctuated each word as though he was speaking to a child.
I widened my stance and clasped my hands in front of me. "My momma raised me right, Sir. She'd want me to come here and ask for your blessing." He opened his mouth to say something, I interjected, "But, I can't do that. You see," I continued. "If I asked, you wouldn't let me love your daughter. I don't fit into your plan, and that's okay."
The man's jaw muscle ticked in irritation, I wasn't fazed. "Mr. Michaels, your daughter doesn't just fit intomyplans; there is no plan without her. I love your daughter, and there isn't a thing I wouldn't do for her." I leveled him with a stare. "Youshould know that."
Mrs. Michaels had the decency to look ashamed but her husband just puffed up his chest. "I don't need your permission to love your daughter; I just need her to allow me to do it. And for Kenzie's sake, I hope you can accept that."
He tilted his nose skyward and narrowed his eyes. I saw the judgment before I heard it. "You'll never be good enough for her."
"Oh, you're right," I agreed. "But I will spend every minute of every day doing my damnedest to be the man she deserves."
Mr. Michaels shook an accusatory finger at me. "It's because you've filled her head with this garbage that she has thrown away everything she's worked for. What kind of life will she have in that town of yours?"
He was still rambling, but my ears stopped listening. Kenzie was on her way to Willow Creek. My feet started to move before my brain could even issue the command. "Mr. and Mrs. Michaels, thank you for your time." I didn't wait to hear what they said and frankly I didn't care.
I needed to catch up to my girl.
Chapter 30
Driving as fast as the speed limit allowed for wasn't fast enough. For what felt like the hundredth time in the past two-and-a-half hours, I pulled up Kenzie's number and poked the green button. As sweet as it was to hear her voice tell me I should try again later, I would have much rather preferred to hear it from her lips.
Anxious, excited, worried. I felt them all in freaking spades. And the fact that her phone kept going to voicemail wasn't helping matters much, either. I gripped the steering wheel tighter and accelerated a bit. My mind was still reeling from the fact that my woman was on her way to Willow Creek.
