Kennedy's Redemption (The Protectors 3)

“Go to bed Sunshine, we’ll be here if you need us,” Creed told her while handing Linc a pillow and blanket and pointing to the floor. He muttered asshole under his breath so only Creed could hear him. Kennedy nodded her head and ran up the stairs. “Jackass.”

“Not my fault your slow ass was frozen in place,” Creed dead-panned.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

They set about fixing up their beds for the night, quiet as possible, listening as Kenny moved around upstairs. When she finally quieted down, they both laid down— Creed on the couch and him on the floor.

·?•? ?•?·

She could hear them moving around below her. Not sure how to feel about inviting them to stay, she delayed laying down for as long as she could. Her body was tired but her mind was alive, and she didn’t fully understand why they were there. She wasn’t ready to go home yet, she still had a lot of healing to do, a lot of things to make sense of. Especially, her new place in the world as this fucked up little girl with the broken dreams.

For as long as she could remember she had wanted to be a clothing designer, even have her own line. Maybe open up a boutique with exclusive items. She’d been working her way towards it too. With her boss Bella’s help and expertise in the industry, she had felt like she was on her way to the top. Her ideas had been fresh and new. Nothing out there like it. She had loved making women feel beautiful in custom clothing tailored to them, no matter their size. Now, the thought of making someone else feel beautiful when all she felt was dirty and used left her nauseous. How was she supposed to get inspired when just the thought of anything beautiful had her skin crawling and her stomach revolting?

When she first left the hospital she had wanted to go somewhere peaceful yet beautiful, and Italy was what had come to mind. She didn’t regret her decision, not really. She’d always wanted to go to Milan to become a fashionista but when she got there, all the beautiful people surrounding her left her feeling disgusting. Like she would somehow taint them. So she turned back around, rented a car, grabbed a map, and drove until she found this tiny, little cove of Italy were it didn’t matter who you were or what you looked like. Everyone left her alone to do her own thing. She’d felt at peace… for a few days anyway.

When the nightmares started to intrude, she fought like hell. Even refused to sleep for a time. It wasn’t until she’d heard a woman who had a laugh so similar to her tormentor’s that she’d freaked out in the supermarket and was nearly arrested. That was how Deedee found her. She had pushed people back, told them she was scared in this new country.

Had she been at home in Texas people would have gawked, laughed even. Taken pictures of the freak of nature they’d encountered and posted them on YouTube the first chance they got. Not here, they didn’t care. No one took pictures and no videos had been uploaded online. In fact, some people had been so kind to offer her something to eat or drink. She’d been in awe of the generosity.

When Deedee had reached down and grabbed her hand to help her up, she vomited all over their shoes. She was so disgusted over the whole display that it took her two weeks to leave her house again. When she finally did, she discovered Deedee was her neighbor.

She’d asked, at first, what was wrong that day, why she freaked out. Kennedy hadn’t been able to answer nor look her in the eye for a week after that. She hated not being able to talk to anyone, to confide in her friends. The new woman she’d turned into was not a welcomed sight. The one with so many regrets in her life that it seemed like they just kept building higher and higher, and she felt like her two biggest ones were currently sleeping in her living room.

Had she met them before she was kidnapped and attacked, she’d have jumped all over the chance to get to know them but now, she knew they would destroy her. She couldn’t afford for that to happen again. When they left, and they would leave, she might not be able to handle it. They had the power to crush her and she had no way of stopping it.

·?•? ?•?·

Laying on Kenny’s couch listening to Linc roll around trying to get comfortable, his thoughts kept drifting to the woman upstairs. For as vulnerable as she was, he could see the steel in her eyes; the fight was still there. They just had to help bring it out of her. All Creed could think of was, only if they’d gotten there earlier. What if they hadn’t gone to New Mexico and instead, just called a contact they had there. Did they waste precious time? Could they have saved the girls sooner?

The questions kept playing in his mind. Non-stop. He never really considered himself a damsel rescuer, but as soon as he’d set sights on her, he’d been hooked. He wanted to take her pain away. He wanted to absorb the hurt inside himself, make her horrors his own, but he couldn’t. So now he was left trying to help piece her together again.

He and Linc had been on missions all over the world, saved countless lives, taken twice as many. Yet none of them meant as much as this one did. Making Kennedy see herself as they did was going to be their biggest hurdle, he thought.

As the hours passed, sleep refused to come and his mind kept drifting back to the day they’d enlisted in the Marines. The two of them always knew they were going to join the military in some way. After 9/11, they felt it was their duty and vowed to help the fight against terror at home and abroad. Growing up the way they did had left them both cold towards the world until they’d lucked out with one foster home who wanted to take them both when they were fourteen. To most they were troubled boys and too old to adopt. They’d always felt used like a commodity rather than two boys who’d been left in the cold, dark world alone.

They’d both been bitter, unapproachable according to one social worker, when they were sent to Marcia Bentley, a sweet fifty-year-old woman that just wanted to help troubled young children. Children she’d never been able to have. It took them two years before they finally realized what a gem she was, and it was only because some asshole neighbor had been harassing her about the ever-present apple tree in the back yard.

He complained because a few apples had fallen into his yard and he’d been sick of picking them up. One day he’d come to their home while they were in school and confronted Marcia about the tree

. When they returned that afternoon, it was to find her in tears because of the harsh things he’d said to her. She never did tell them what, but they’d both stormed over to the man’s house— Linc armed with needle-nosed pliers and him with a chainsaw. The fact that they let the man believe they were there to harm him with the tools was irrelevant; though, Linc might have implied he’d like to grip a particular appendage on the man with his pliers. Instead, they’d cut the part of the tree down that was crowding into his yard and fixed the bent chains on the fence.

The police had shown up a few hours later while they were eating dinner. Once Marcia explained that the neighbor had come over screaming and saying horrible things to her and that they’d gone over to trim back the tree and fix his fence, well, the police had made their neighbor feel like an ass. He’d never bothered her again.

Their relationship with Marcia had bloomed after that. They would talk to her about their days, about life before her, and help her more around the house. Once they realized she wasn’t dumping them the first chance she got, they treated her more and more like the mother they’d never really had. When she passed away six years ago, they’d made sure her every last wish was taken care of. All she wanted was for her house to be sold and the money donated to a local children’s shelter. They made sure it was done.

If it hadn’t been for her, he didn’t think either of them would be as willing to have the type of relationship that they were now. He still thought Kennedy could have changed them, but he didn’t think they’d have fought for it the way they were willing to now.

Six

Gripped in the throes of a nightmare, it was the first time her smooth, dark voices didn’t bring her back from the edge. Didn’t save her from the horrors of what happened. She’d foolishly believed they were her saving grace. Brought to her to keep any more harm from befalling her. How wrong she’d been.

“Please, stop. Please,” she begged the woman. She just smiled at her and continued carving Kennedy’s body with her curved knife. At the fresh slice brought down her leg, she bit her lip so hard she could taste the coppery blood as it traveled down her tongue.

Sweat broke out all along her body, making her shiver from the draft coming through the walls. She had no idea where they were or how long they’d been there. She knew that Emily was a floor below her; she could hear her crying every once in a while. One time, the man had gone down there and Emily screamed her name so loud that she feared he was going to kill her just to spite Emily. To her horror, he’d come back up and stormed into the room, ripped the knife from the woman’s fingers and started carving her breasts on each side. Then he’d taken off his belt, forced her to lay on her stomach and whipped her back mercilessly; so hard he’d torn the skin.

Her fight was leaving her. Hope was dwindling. What was the point? No one knew who they were or that it was two of them rather than just a man like they all initially thought. And now they were in some secluded cabin. She only knew that because at first, she’d tried to scream as loud as she could, but when no one came, she started to give up.

She was done begging. Done crying. If she were going to do die, she’d rather it be quick. Unfortunately, these two seemed to like drawing the pain out. Making her suffer. She’d learned that the more she struggled, fought, and begged, the more they relished it. So just maybe if she stopped, they’d kill her? End her suffering once and for all.