Kennedy's Redemption (The Protectors Series Book 3) Read online

  “She’s always moaning and crying when she’s asleep, though. Won’t those nightmares follow her?” her mom asked sounding resigned to what was going to happen to her.

  “That’s something we’ll never really know. It’s a fifty, fifty chance. But her body won’t heal if she’s constantly fighting us,” he tried to implore while she was trying scream that yes, they followed her into sleep.

  “Please don’t trap me!” she screamed in her mind.

  “Don’t do it!” That whiskey voice was back and he sounded pissed. Please listen to him, she begged in her mind because her voice was still trapped.

  “Son, that’s really not up to you,” her dad Andrew told him. No, daddy, please, please listen, she tried to plead.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he snarled. “You shouldn’t do it. If she’s trapped in her mind when she sleeps and you knock her out for however long it takes her to heal, you’ll ruin her,” he explained menacingly to whoever else was in the room. She continued to struggle with her body to wake up, to scream, wave her arms, something, but her body refused to cooperate.

  “That may be so, but what’s the alternative? She rips her body apart like she did yesterday?” Her other dad, Jackson, said wobbly.

  I’m sorry, Daddy, she wanted to plead with him that she wouldn’t do it again, but she knew it wouldn’t be true. She was weak and the nightmares held her monsters. She just couldn’t go on like that anymore. She wanted to escape, but she didn’t want to be locked in her mind while her body healed either.

  “Ya can’t fucking do this!” whiskey voice screamed at them.

  “Linc!” That other voice, the dark one, hollered at him. “Calm the fuck down; it ain’t our choice.”

  “Fuck that Creed, they’re gonna ruin her; she won’t walk away from this,” whiskey voice, now known as Linc, growled out.

  “Linc, Creed, let’s go outside,” she heard Dane’s voice interject. No, Dane, please don’t. She didn’t understand the connection she had with these men, Linc and Creed, but she knew with them around she felt safe. She might not be able to open her eyes but she felt them leave, like all the warmth left the room, like there was no more sunshine in her life. She was left cold in a world of gray filled with the worst kind of monsters imaginable.

  She heard her parents talking, her mom crying, and her brothers trying to console her, but she didn’t comprehend anything until her mom kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear, “Rest now, baby. This will heal your body. I love you, Kennedy.” Her dads and brothers followed suit.

  As soon as they were done, she heard the doctor order the nurse to do something. When she felt them playing with her IV, she started to freak out before she felt a burning rush through her veins, her muscles going completely lax, and her brain getting more and more sluggish by the moment.

  Her final thought was… I wish I were dead.

  One

  Four weeks, three days, and five hours was how long it took for Lincoln Black to decide that when Kennedy woke up she was theirs, his and his twin brother Creed’s; she just didn’t know it yet. Her brothers suspected, their friends Dane, Coop, and Emily knew, but her parents were clueless.

  Every night he and Creed would sit in her hospital room and watch her sleep. Not a normal sleep, but a medically induced coma because their woman had gone through hell and didn’t see a way out of her head. So her parents, against his strong objection, allowed the doctors to do this to her. He was mad as hell at them. So much so that he was hardly able to be in the same room as them.

  What they didn’t listen to him about was how she would have nightmares. Her brain was active, and he could see her eyes moving behind her closed lids from the minute he walked in the room at night till the minute she would start thrashing around in the bed trying to escape her mind.

  He and Creed would sit there until it happened and when it did, they would hold her hands, whisper things to her, tell her about themselves and how when she was awake they were going to help her heal. Mind, body, and soul.

  She was a fighter. From the minute they’d rescued her and Emily from hell, she’d fought and she fought hard. It was one of the most humbling yet terrifying things he’d ever seen. Because while she was fighting, she was also hurting herself and he couldn’t handle that.

  Every day their friends Dane Johnston and Cooper Sheppard would bring little Emily in and she would sit there for hours just watching Kenny. Sometimes her tears would slip free and sometimes she would silently watch her. Mostly she wrote her letters, and each day, she would put them in the drawer beside her bed and make him and Creed promise not to let anyone read them. She said she needed Kenny to know how sorry she was that she was like this and that she hoped one day, she’d forgive her.

  It didn’t matter how many times everyone told Emily this wasn’t her fault, she kept telling them she would reserve judgment for when Kenny woke up and she could apologize properly. So they let her write until her fingers grew tired or her tears would dry up. It seemed to help her heal inside a little bit too, so she was left alone.

  The nurses assured him and Creed that they would be slowly bringing her out of the coma in the next few days, and that once she was off the medicine, it would be up to her on how long it would take to actually wake up. They were both terrified she wouldn’t.

  ·٠•● ●•٠·

  Watching the two most important people in his life, Creedence Black waited for his brother to fall asleep with his head resting softly on Kennedy’s leg while she was forced to sleep by the medicine and thought about how they were going to help her when she awoke. It was something he’d been thinking about for weeks. She didn’t even know their names let alone who they were, yet they both felt this magnetic pull to be with her, to take care of her.

  When the decision was made to put her in this coma, Linc had gone off the handle on her parents and he and Dane had no choice but to forcibly remove him from the room. He’d never seen his brother so emotional since their mom finally decided to up and leave them. Being older than Linc by mere minutes — they were fraternal twins— he always felt responsible for his brother. And seeing the pain etched on his face when they decided to put Kenny in her coma was worse than when they finally realized their mom wasn’t coming back. She hadn’t been the best mom, but she’d been all they had until they were twelve and she ditched them at a fire hall. Now, twenty years later and seeing that look from his brother gutted him.

  Every night they’d been back to watch and wait. Knowing that Linc had been right about the nightmares made her parents feel horrible, but neither of them felt very forgiving towards them yet. He knew they would eventually have to cross that bridge when the time came to really claim her as theirs, but until then, they had nothing to say to them.

  Her brothers Nate and Ty were at a crossroads as well because they weren’t consulted when the decision was made to put her under. So while they were angry at their parents for doing it, they understood that they just wanted her to heal, but Creed didn’t think that this was the way to do it. She had such a hard road ahead of her. After watching her cry and thrash around nearly every night, he was scared to death that when she woke it was only going to be worse. Her body may be healed, but her mind would be so broken.

  Closing his eyes before the sun would rise again, he kept his hold on her hand, not able to let that small bit of contact go. When her fingers started to twitch, he stood up and shaked Linc as he went, knowing somehow this was different. They hadn’t brought her out of the coma yet, and even though she thrashed while having nightmares before, she’d never really had any centrally located movements.

  “Yo, Linc, up man,” he sternly whispered. “Something’s up.” When her entire body locked up and her back bowed off the bed, they knew she was in trouble. As Linc tried to sooth her by running his hands up and down her arms, he ran into the hall yelling for a doctor.

  As the doctors and nurses rushed into the room, they tried to get him and Linc to leave but they weren’t having it. “We ain’t fucking going anywhere, so just fucking help her!” he hollered at the nurse.

  Finally realizing they weren’t leaving, she went back to helping while he pulled out his cell to call her parents. When the line was picked up, he didn’t even let them speak before he said, “Something’s wrong.”

  “What do you mean?” one of her dads asked. He couldn’t tell who.

  “Just get here quick,” he demanded, hanging up.

  Watching as the doctors worked on her, he felt a foreboding in the air like something bad was about to happen; he just wasn’t sure what. When she let out an ear-piercing scream that made everyone wince followed by whimpering Linc’s name, they both stood up straighter and went to her. The doctors wouldn’t move so they pushed their way in, grabbing her hands as she continued to moan and cry.

  “Fuck, Creed.” Linc was pale as a ghost as she kept murmuring his name repeatedly until her body finally gave up whatever was happening to her.

  Running his fingers across her sweaty face, he was startled when her eyes popped open and met his. The confusion in them was heart-breaking as it slowly morphed into fear. “Kennedy,” he whispered.

  “Make it stop,” she pleaded in a broken and cracked voice before going unconscious again.

  “What… the fuck… was that?” he demanded menacingly without taking his eyes off her tortured face.

  When Linc growled, he finally looked over to see a nurse bringing a needle closer to her IV that was in the hand he was currently holding, “What is it?” he snarled, closing his hand over the opening before she could inject it.

  Patting his arm, she showed him the vial it had come from explaining, “Just some Ativan, young man, to calm her racing heart.” Pointing to the heart monitor, they saw how fast her heart rate was. Linc nodded his head at the nurse after moving his hand away.

  “What was this?” Linc demanded again.

  When the doctors and nurses all looked to each other, he knew the answer before anyone spoke. “Honestly, we have no clue, but I think we’ll have to bring her out of this coma sooner rather than later now,” one of the doctors explained just as her parents rushed in the room.

  “What’s happening to my baby?” her mother Amber cried out.

  “We were just explaining to her men that we’re not sure. She started convulsing like you would if you were having a seizure, only the brain monitor says she wasn’t. I think that whatever happened to her that day is replaying in her mind and now, she’s fighting her way out,” that same doctor explained to them.

  “What does that mean exactly? Is something wrong? Will she be ok?” her dad Jackson asked.

  “She’ll be as well as can be expected under the circumstances. As for what it means— we’re going to have to start weaning her out of this coma now rather than in the few days like we expected. Otherwise, she may never come out,” he said gravely.

  Two

  Drowning. Death. Despair.

  Drowning in the memories of her torture.

  Wishing for a Death that never came.

  Lost in the deep, dark, sadistic sea of Despair.

  Kennedy Maxwell no longer knew where she began and they ended. She was lost in a mind that was stuck on replay. She’d been in a coma for nearly five weeks.

  Five weeks trapped in her mind.

  Five weeks of endless torture.

  Now, almost a month later and endless days of watching the people she loved trying to help her but not knowing how, she felt worse knowing her family was hurting because she was. Learning who those two dark voices were was a relief. They had saved her, over and over again. They kept her sane enough from going anymore over the edge than she already had.

  But now they’d been called away on a mission. She didn’t know when they’d be back and she was slowly losing her mind again; it was like she was living outside her body. She could see everything happening around her but she was disconnected or removed from it all. Her parents were there in her hospital room and she was awake. They were talking to her, asking her questions, but for the life of her she couldn’t answer. Couldn’t move. Didn’t want to.

  That woman… That evil thing the media had dubbed The Gypsy Butcher had done something to her. It was like she had flipped the off switch in Kennedy’s body. The physical pain was gone but the memories remained.

  Sick of the chaos and questions, she whispered quietly but forcefully, “Leave.” Not wanting to look at anyone, she turned away and closed her eyes. Unsure if they listened to her demand or not, the noise level had gone down so she thought they might have.

  Feeling a hand on her arm had her jumping in shock. “Kennedy, baby,” her mom was pleading with her, wanting to stay; she could tell. She refused to look at anyone. She wanted to be alone. They didn’t need to know about her personal hell, about what had happened. It was bad enough she knew.

  “Just leave,” she begged of them. Her parents were wonderful people. They didn’t deserve having to deal with the nightmares that would soon come; the depression she could feel eating at her soul. The lies she would have to tell when people asked how she was… because she would lie.

  No one ever needed to know what had happened to her. The scars were bad enough, but the things that were forced upon her, that she was forced to endure; nobody needed to ever know about them. The scars would tell their own story.

  Waiting for her parents to finally leave was pure torture in the worst way. Even worse than what she’d suffered because she knew they loved her and wanted to help. Instead, she needed them to go so she could gather her resolve and do what she needed to do on her own to escape this living nightmare that was her own personal hell.

  Hours later, after being poked and prodded like cattle at branding time, after endless hours of questions and telling the doctors she wanted no visitors no matter how persistent they were, she finally faked being in too much pain to want to deal with anyone anymore.

  As the day faded and night came, the hospital became quiet and that’s when she slipped from bed carefully and grabbed the supplies she needed from the closet in her room. Taking one quick look in the hallway to make sure no one was coming to check on her, she made her way to the bathroom and closed and locked the door. With a deep breath, she said a quick prayer. “Please forgive me, Mom and Dads. I love you.”

  Making her final escape, she felt free...

  ·٠•● ●•٠·

  Looking through the scope of his Barrett M107 rifle, he waited for their target to appear. He needed just a split second. Sitting out at a distance of over a thousand meters away with the winds low, it was a perfect day for Linc to make the shot. Creed was on the other side of the mountain waiting in place as well, just in case their target wandered to his side of the compound— they’d been watching for the last week and a half.

  He was more than ready to get back home, and he knew his brother was too. Kennedy was constantly on their minds, and when they’d been called away by Uncle Sam to eliminate this arms dealer/child slave trader they knew they had to do it. They were the only ones willing to do a straight kill for pieces of shit like this guy.

  However, the toll worrying about Kennedy was taking on their minds was not conducive to concentrating and making sure there was no trace of them when they left. She hadn’t been in a healthy frame of mind either, refusing to allow visitors or talking to the psychological staff about what happened. Plus, she kept trying to rip her IV out and was just being plain stubborn.

  The only time she mellowed out, as far as they could tell anyway, was when they were in the room. She might glare at those around her but she would watch the two of them while the doctors or nurses did what needed doing, which was usually just checking her vitals and making sure her wounds were healing correctly. About a week after she woke up, they’d learned really quick that needles, or anything sharp for that matter, could not be in the same room as her.

  The first time they’d come in to take her blood and do a few small tests, she’d stabbed the doctor in the thigh with a syringe and ran from the room ripping her IVs right from her arms. Had he and Creed not been walking up to see her, she probably would have made a solid run for it. By the time she’d run straight into him, she had herself so worked up that she fainted as soon as he put his arms around her.

  Once they found out why she’d run, they told the doctors to do nothing else unless it was absolutely necessary and only while they were there. They didn’t care that they weren’t anything to her yet. People needed to understand the trauma she’d suffered, and everyone just kept throwing things at her without thinking it through first.

  Doctors studied her like a bug under a microscope, her family wanted anything and everything done to make her better, and Emily, just fucking Emily, he thought shaking his head… She was afraid to see Kenny for fear that she would be tossed back into her nightmare. What she didn’t understand was that Emily was probably one of the few people that could possibly bring her back from the edge she was always on.

  The sudden crackle in his ear nearly made him jump as Creed told him, “He’s in my sight.” Pausing, he waited for confirmation. “Got him. Let’s go home.”

  “Thank fuck,” Linc murmured back.

  Packing up his gear and breaking down his gun, he made his way down the mountain to the Jeep he had waiting for him. Jumping in, he drove to the spot where he was to pick up Creed. Watching as the trees flew by the faster he drove, he couldn’t help admire the view, the freedom of the rolling mountains and forests of Argentina. If it weren’t such a drug and gun run country, he thought Kenny would enjoy it here. The peacefulness and openness of the country might help ease her mind but the violence surely wouldn’t.

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