Page 18 of You're My Person - For Always

But she was an adult now.

"I don't know," he muttered again. "There's something about her that..."

She waited, but he never finished. "What?"

"She looks familiar." He kissed Kenna's forehead. "Probably just one of the bitches that used to hang around the clubhouse years ago." He sighed. "Nothing to worry about."

"I should go back to work. It's unfair to Lori and Rebecca to cover for me this long." She stepped away from him and rubbedthe chill off her arms. "Zane gave me the job because you need more help in the bar. I don't want to disappoint him."

He grabbed her hands and pulled her toward him, claiming her mouth. She grabbed his vest and hung on as the intensity of having his lips on her made her bones weak. It was as if he tried to erase all her worries with that one kiss, to communicate everything he couldn't say to make up for lying to her for years.

When he pulled back, his dark eyes searched hers, filled with mixed emotions she couldn't understand. "Miss you, brat," he whispered, his voice rougher than usual. "Stop pushing me away."

Her resolve wavered, and she nodded slowly, letting herself sink back into his embrace.

"I need you," he murmured against her hair.

She nestled closer to him, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I need you, too," she whispered back.

They stood in silence, not talking about the past or the future. She held on to him as if the world no longer existed.

It was a fragile peace he offered her, but in that instant, it was enough.

Chapter Seven

Kenna

—Four Years Ago—

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"Shut up!"

Dishes clattered. "Sit down.

A cupboard door slammed shut. A baby cried.

Kenna glanced around for one of the adults. After dinner, there was always chaos in the group home. Twenty-four girls, from infants to seventeen years old, lived in the building, with four people in each room.

"I'll tell if you leave." Samantha sat on the top bunk, swinging her feet. "You'll go to juvie."

Juvenile Hall wasn't a threat. She'd been there once before when they couldn't find a foster home for her.

"If you leave, I'm going with you." Bethany scrambled off her bed. "I'm not staying here."

"You're eight years old. You're not coming with me." Kenna looked at Samantha, who was a threat at sixteen years old. "Go ahead and rat me out, and I'll tell them how your boyfriend meets up with you every day after school."

"Bitch," muttered Samantha.

She opened the door a crack and checked the hallway. Once the coast was clear, she hurried to the stairs and squeezed into the space between two bookcases, listening for anyone approaching. The front door was the easiest way to sneak out after dinner. Once she returned, she'd come through the kitchen door left open for Ramona, who stayed late to help with the infants.

She popped out of her hiding spot and opened the door, shutting it softly behind her. No one could hear her in the house with all the screaming and crying. And what would they do if she was caught sneaking out? Send her away?

It wouldn't matter where she went. In another year, she'd be on her own. She'd get a job, save money for a year until River graduated, and then they could look for their dad together.

She looked behind her. Nobody followed.

Bending over, she pulled up her pant leg and grabbed the cell phone she hid in her sock. At the group home, she kept the phone hidden in her binder in her backpack. Ms. Guilly never went through her schoolwork but inspected their beds and the closet daily. Some of the girls that arrived tried to bring drugs into the house. All phones found were confiscated.

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