Page 114 of Kings Don't Break
She pivots on her heel, her dark chocolate hair flipping, and rushes off to another part of the house.
The tiny kernel of hope disintegrates into dust watching her walk away in search of him. A wave of icy dread washes over me as I realize how Ken sabotaged Mama. Janessa had mentioned she was seeing someone new weeks ago at the holiday event at the Steel Saloon. Ken’s always entertained other women…
I close my eyes and finally let myself break. A hoarse cry warbles out of me, tears stinging. There’s no use fighting; no use hoping.
Mama could be dying and I’m lying here beaten on the floor, handcuffed and captive by a man who refuses to let me go. He’ll kill me first.
My mind travels backward in time to that quiet afternoon where he’d turned up with a flower and put a smile on my face. Once upon a time, the memory seemed too good to be true. Many years later, I now know that it was.
Instead of smile back, I should’ve screamed. I should’ve run far, far away. If I’d known how he’d destroy me…
Ken’s shouting interrupts my trip down memory lane. He’s yelling from upstairs.
At Janessa.
“You stupid bitch!” he barks. “I told you to tell no one about it!”
“But Kenny?—”
“Shut up!”
His feet pound above my head and then migrate across the second floor ’til he’s emerging from the staircase and storming into the kitchen. He’s fuming, his nostrils flared and jaw squared.
“Get up!” he yells at me, then nudges my leg with his boot. “Hurry up or I’ll make you hurry up!”
I scramble to move against the deep aches and pains of my battered body. Janessa’s in the background with tears streaking her face, rambling her way through a long, contrived apology.
“I said hurry up,” Ken snarls when I don’t move fast enough. He grips me by the back of my neck and rushes me forward to my pained whimpers.
It hurts to walk. It hurts to breathe. I feel dizzy and like I’ll collapse any second.
He rushes me upstairs, then shoves me inside our master bedroom where he locks me in. Unable to support myself, I crumple to the ground in a heap by the door. It’s as I slip between consciousness and unconsciousness that I realize Ken’s standing on the other side. A phone’s ringing and he growls something at Janessa about her fuck up.
“Why the fuck would you tell him you’re involved?”
“I felt terrible. I couldn’t stand keeping it from him?—”
“I said shut the fuck up! He’s calling her phone now!”
Ken ignores Janessa’s cries of apology and answers. His infuriated tone only intensifies as he speaks to the other person on the line, revealing it must be Blake. They share a tense exchange as I listen from the other side of the door, half passed out on the floor.
“We’ll see about that,” Ken growls. “It’s about time we handle this. Come alone.”
My heart shrinks, like it’ll die out if it shrivels up any more.
No… Blake… it’s a trap…
28
BLAKE
The moment I turn up, Stricklin’s establishing his stipulations. No weapons. No back up. No authorities. None of that or else.
…or else something. But considering he’s answering Korine’s phone and she’s gone missing, I know what that or else means.
I stand on the front lawn of his multi-hundred-thousand dollar home and can feel her in the air. My girl’s trapped inside. She’s in serious trouble if he’s lured her here. If he’s put his hands on her, he’ll be dead on sight.
He’s dying no matter what. I’ll happily go to prison if it means putting Ken Stricklin in a grave.
