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

  “We’re going to get Kennedy. I know Nate wants you guys to go, but I won’t wait; I need my baby home.”

  Before either of them could say anything they saw her husband, Jackson, walking forward with yet another bag. “Boys,” he greeted with a nod. “I asked Nate to call you back. Tell you not to come.”

  At that they both pulled out their phones, not seeing any missed messages. He turned his phone around saying, “He didn’t, and this is a bad idea.”

  “We’re going to get our daughter back,” Jackson told them forcefully.

  “Look, I don’t wanna be an ass, but Kenny ran for a good fucking reason. Do you think she’s going to want to be forced back home? How do you know she’s not better off where she is than if she were here?” Creed asked, his voice laced with venom. He was pissed off that her parents, who he figured were normally pretty smart people, were acting incredibly naïve right now.

  Seeing realization dawn in Jackson’s eyes didn’t make him feel any better about being a dick, but they needed to understand that Kenny left in a really dark frame of mind. She may be better or she may be worse than before she left. And being forced to be around people who knew what she’d suffered and were going to smother her, might just tip her over the edge. They couldn’t let that happen.

  “Young man, she is my daughter, and she will come home. She needs her family right now,” Amber tried to argue but he kept his eyes on Jackson, knowing he would understand when Amber wouldn’t, and why.

  “We will make sure she’s safe; you can take that to the bank,” Linc promised trying to appeal to her mom. “But we will not force Kennedy to leave before she’s ready.”

  Turning his wife around, they watched as Jackson lowered his head to Amber’s and started whispering so low they couldn’t hear what was being said. When the tears started rolling down her cheeks, he got a better idea. Looking to them, she searched both of their eyes before turning around and running up the stairs. Jackson watched her with regret shining in his eyes.

  “I know you boys are interested in her,” he started to say, “but she’s broken in more ways than any of us can possibly understand right now. Just don’t take advantage.”

  He felt Linc tense beside him at Jackson’s words. Reaching out a hand, he gripped his arm tightly before replying, “She may not know it right now, but Kenny is our life. For the last four months, she has been at the forefront of both our minds. We would never do a fucking thing to hurt her so you can bet we will give her everything she needs. Even if it means protecting her from doing things others want her to do.”

  With that, Amber came back downstairs with a postcard in hand. Handing it to Creed, she looked at him with eyes full of tears and choked out, “Bring my baby home.” Nodding at her, they left with a new destination in mind.

  ·٠•● ●•٠·

  Fifteen hours. Fifteen long hours of flying or waiting, of a shit ton of cursing, and Linc was ready to never step foot in an airport terminal again. They’d just been informed that they had to take a thirty-minute train ride into Rome, rent a car, and then they still had to drive over four hours before reaching the small village of Porto Venere where Kenny was renting a villa. He was tired, irritated, and it was probably a good thing he couldn’t bring one of his many guns internationally or he might have shot the steward in the knees. Twice.

  The layover in London wasn’t supposed to be so bad until they were told their connecting flight had taken off before they’d landed, only to then be told that the wanker that told them that was a fraud and trying to scam them out of their money. He’d been ready to tackle a guard, steal their gun, and hunt the little bastard right then. Creed had given him the look, the one only an older sibling can give— even if he was older by a few short minutes— and he froze mid-step from actually tackling the guard.

  With that over, things had gone smoother. That is until they’d gotten on the connecting flight and the steward kept eyeing Linc, even going so far as to accidentally grope his ass when they hit a bit of turbulence while he was stretching his legs. Luckily, he’d held back and didn’t toss the guy out the door mid-flight.

  Standing outside on the platform waiting for the train, he felt exposed. It was too open for his liking. The train station had an open floor plan, three surrounding walls made of glass, and an open field in front. If he were on an op, he’d have hoofed it to Rome. It was a cynical thing to think, but they didn’t get to their age in their line of work by not taking the offensive in any situation, especially in a foreign country. They’d made plenty of enemies over the last sixteen years they’d been in the business. Basically, being mercs for their country left an open target on their backs, which was why the last job they did in Argentina was their out.

  They couldn’t bring that life to Kennedy. She’d been through enough without them adding stress to it. They wanted her to feel safe and secure like they would keep all the bad in the world at bay for her. Because they would. They may have only met her when they helped her brothers and their friends, Dane and Coop, rescue her and Emily, but from the minute they’d laid eyes on her, touched her, they’d both felt a connection. A zap to the very depths of their souls. From that moment, they’d been the only ones who could touch her without her screaming so loud that he’d been shocked she hadn’t strained her vocal cords so badly that she couldn’t talk anymore.

  When her parents had decided to put her in that coma, he knew nothing good would come of it. He could tell immediately that she was locked in whatever hell had been brought down on her in that cabin. She still hadn’t told anyone what happened before or after waking from the coma. All they had to go by were her injuries and what Emily could guess at. She’d muttered a few things on the way to the hospital to him and Creed, but it was more babbling than anything else.

  Now, here they were half way around the world waiting for a fucking train so they could rent a fucking car and then drive another four fucking hours in the hopes that she was still in Italy. Yeah, he was a bit bitter and cranky, and ready to eat some real food that wasn’t processed or full of sugar. But mostly, he was dying to lay eyes on Kennedy and make sure she was whole.

  His biggest fear was that she would be worse. Holed up in some ramshackle cabin terrified to come out. As the train pulled up he shared a look with Creed; it was time to get their girl.

  ·٠•● ●•٠·

  “Good afternoon, Miss Maxwell. How are you today?” Dr. Schroder greeted her as she walked into his sun-filled office. He had windows lining one whole wall to the west, so it was facing a large park. Wide open spaces. He knew she felt trapped with the blinds closed, so she appreciated the effort he made in making her comfortable.

  Striding into the room, she made her way to the couch adjacent to the window so she could watch the clouds and sun and see the birds fly. A pang of wanting hit her hard as she watched a mother walking through the park pushing a stroller with a small boy inside. “I’m alright I suppose,” she answered absently, still watching the mother and son.

  He remained quiet after that. It’s how it always went. He let her lead the sessions— probably so she didn’t go crazy on him. She’d done that in the beginning. Anytime he would speak to her, she’d flinch and whimper. She felt like she was making progress, though. When he spoke to her, she answered back. Not some big breakthrough, but it was still something.

  Pulling out her sketch pad, she started to draw. She never really knew what she was drawing until the end, but this time, a bottle was quick to come into view. The more she drew, the more detailed it became. Pulling back to get a better look, she admired the dark lines of what looked like a bottle of fine Crown Royal whiskey. A wide, dark base drawing up tall and lean lines, maturing into a slim yet thick opening. She knew why she’d drawn it.

  The last few weeks she’d been having very vivid, yet elusive dreams of whispered words. They swore to protect her, to keep her safe. She always woke up in a cold sweat with fear coursing through her veins. Never sure if she was afraid of
the deep masculine voices she’d been dreaming of, or if she was afraid of the inevitability of a broken promise. She’d never be safe again. Her tormentors were locked in her mind, day in and day out.

  Looking up from her drawing she watched Dr. Schroder watch her, studying his weathered face. He was older and had such gray hair it was almost white. His eyes, though, they were kind, caring. It had taken a while before she believed he wouldn’t hurt her. She was still leery and didn’t trust him one hundred percent, but she could count on his honesty.

  Clearing her throat she asked, “What do you know of dreams?”

  Shock was visible on his features before he cleared the expression and answered her, “Are you having dreams?”

  “It’s why I’m asking.”

  “Are they good dreams or bad?”

  Thinking about it, she wasn’t really sure. There were remnants of the nightmares each time she woke, but the voices kept getting stronger. “Both, maybe?” Letting out a sigh, she thought about how best to explain to get the answer she needed. “You saw my file, right? You read it?” she asked meeting his eyes briefly before looking back down at her drawing and shading the bottle in.

  “I did, Kennedy, thoroughly. I have every detail except what you haven’t shared with anyone; what was actually done to you. You’ve never told a soul.” He never asked her to explain things when she did talk to him, which wasn’t often. He let her explain things in her own way. Which admittedly wasn’t very much.

  Clearing her throat, she tried to explain about the dark voices that would whisper reassurances in her ear when she was most frightened or brought her back from the brink as her nightmares had her in their grips. “When Emily and I were rescued by my brothers and their two friends, I didn’t know who they were at first and even when I did know their names, they meant nothing to me until I awoke from the coma. But these men, they could touch me and I didn’t feel the pain I did when others had touched me. It wasn’t soothing exactly, but it wasn’t painful.” Glancing up she saw he just sat there watching her pencil.

  At his nod, she continued. “The one man, I now know his name is Lincoln, he has this voice that’s smooth as whiskey; it is soothing and deep, and his words wrap around me and I feel safe.” Pausing, she looked up and out the window watching the clouds roll by lazily on the light breeze. “Creedence, that’s Linc’s twin brother, I heard him on the ambulance ride to the hospital from that hell; he sang to me. He probably doesn’t even realize I know he did it either.” She smiled remembering his dark, rumbly voice.

  “What did he sing?”

  Shaken from her reverie, she looked to the doctor and sang, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray…” Singing the chorus out loud was oddly soothing. She could almost hear his deep voice singing it too.

  “So when you dream, I assume it’s their voices you hear?” he queried.

  Nodding her head she explained, “When my nightmares get to be too much, too real, their voices are there— they pull me back. But then they suck me into a false sense of safety too.”

  “Why do you think it’s false?”

  “What?” she asked confused.

  “You said they lure you into a false sense of safety. Why do you think it’s false?” he explained as she replayed her words back over in her head.

  “I thought I was safe and secure before we were taken. After what happened, how can I ever believe I’ll be safe again?”

  “How do you know you won’t be? You’ve explained your family’s dynamics to me, the ménage relationship, how they’re all about trust and honesty. What if this is your subconscious’ way of telling you these men can keep you safe?”

  Perplexed, she sat there staring at her drawing, seeing how she drew a sunshine in the center of the bottle. He had her questioning things she hadn’t previously thought about.

  Five

  Six hours after landing in Italy, they were finally sitting outside the quaint villa Kennedy had been living in for the past two months. It was small, made of logs, and two stories. The second story looked like it was more of a loft because it had a balcony off of it that took up a quarter of the space. It was simple with white rocks on either side of the pathway leading to the front door that was even to the ground. Grass surrounded the structure until it hit about a foot from the back of the house where it turned into sand that led to the rocky beach behind.

  Creed was pissed that she would find a place so isolated. She was on the outskirts of town and help was few and far between. She had a couple neighbors but each was, at least, five hundred yards away on either side. If someone were to come here and grab her, no one would know. On the flip side of his anger, though, was understanding. She probably thought she was safer here with fewer people around. She could track who came and went, recognize an outsider faster than if she were right in town.

  “What are you thinking, bro?” Linc asked him quietly.

  “It’s too open. She’s vulnerable here.”

  “You think she’ll move if we ask her?”

  “Not a fucking chance,” he muttered.

  Walking closer to the house, he heard voices coming from inside. Soft, light, feminine. At least they knew she was home. Knocking on the door just hard enough so as not to startle them, they waited.

  After a minute of no answer, Linc knocked slightly harder and leaned closer whispering loudly, “Sunshine, open up for me.”

  The door flung open before he even had a chance to pull away, his ear was now level with Kenny’s lips as she sighed, “Lincoln.”

  Standing straight again they watched her. She had lost weight but had a sun-kissed glow to her skin thanks to the Mediterranean sun. Her hair was redder, slightly shorter, only kissing just below her shoulders. Her eyes shot between them nervously waiting for them to say something.

  Wringing her hands together, she looked over her shoulder and another woman appeared. “Hi,” she greeted them enthusiastically with a small wave.

  Nodding their heads at her, they both kept their eyes locked on Kenny. When she finally looked back at them, she gulped down a breath before stuttering out, “Why are you here?”

  “Sunshine, we haven’t stopped looking for you since you left,” Creed explained.

  “Almost didn’t make it, either. Fucking steward kept trying to feel me up on the flight. Bastard’s lucky I couldn’t carry my concealed with me on a passenger plane,” Linc tried to joke, making her friend chuckle low.

  “Ken, are you gonna introduce me to these two tall drinks of water or what?” she demanded.

  “Right. Sorry. Creedence, Lincoln, this is my friend Deedee.” Her voice was flat with a twinge of fear in it that he really didn’t care for.

  “Lincoln and Creedence, huh? Apt names for such gods. Tell your mama thank you from all of womankind alike, will ya? Ken, I’m gonna go and let y’all talk.” She left before they could say anything.

  “Odd eyes,” Linc mused.

  “Sunshine?” Creed asked.

  Looking up at him, she had tears in her eyes, her face had gone pale, and she started to shake. As a tear escaped, he caught it with his thumb before bringing it to lips and sucking it off. She began to cry, sobs wracking her entire body, making her knees go weak. He and Linc grabbed her fingers and laced them together, ever mindful of her issues with touch. Not knowing if it was still a problem or not.

  After a few minutes of her standing there with her emotions on display, Linc finally asked, “Can we come in now, Sunshine?”

  She turned not letting go of their hands, making it so they crossed across her stomach. As she reached her small living area she let go of them, wandering to the small fireplace against one wall. Turning, she leaned back against it and asked again, “Why are you here?”

  “You really don’t know, Sunshine?” He was baffled. Yeah, sure, she was in a bad place when they met her up until they left, but they were the only ones she connected with while she was in the hospital. Her brothers told them she’
d deteriorated after they left. That she’d closed into herself even more, so they thought that maybe she felt a connection to them.

  Looking between them, she seemed to ponder her words before speaking. “Your voices, they’re everywhere. They follow me in my dreams, chase away my nightmares. I get chills down my spine and it feels like you’re here.” She stopped and took a breath while they were trying to grasp what she was saying. “But when I look around and realize you’re not? It’s the worst feeling in the world. Like I can’t breathe; the air would get sucked from my lungs and I’m left gasping like a fish out of water.”

  “Sunshine,” Linc whispered walking closer to her, only stopping when she shook her head no.

  “I just don’t understand what you want. You were there, I was safe, and everyone left me alone. But then you left and it was like I was in hell again. For days I waited for you to come back and you didn’t.” Sobbing, she sunk to the ground with her arms covering her head.

  “Oh, Sunshine. Kennedy. Fuck,” he growled out, not sure how to make her understand they weren’t leaving her again. For anything.

  ·٠•● ●•٠·

  She sat there crying, waiting for what she wasn’t sure but something. She had never dreamed they would come for her. Their voices had been a soothing comfort to her nerves for months; naturally, she thought that’s all she would get. When she went to her therapist that morning, she felt like she’d had a real breakthrough. She’d never opened up to him before in the way she just had. It was liberating talking about the soothing voices that plagued her mind.

  But to have them there, in her home, after not hearing or seeing them in months left her unbalanced. What Dr. Schroder had said was playing in the back of her mind— how maybe they were brought to her to keep her safe. They could be her salvation. But was she ready to have anyone that close to her again?

  She was still so broken and damaged; her head was never in one place and she often had to leave wherever she was because she would become overwhelmed. It was why she chose to live so isolated. Having the ocean behind her offered her a freedom she lacked. Would they understand? She wondered.