Page 69 of You're My Person - For Always

"No more." Big John rose from the chair to his full height of six foot four inches. Not to be intimidated, Zane got to his feet, blocking his vice president from harming anyone at the table.

Kenna clung to Kingsley, enthralled in the story once her dad's name came into play.

"Pruitt kept her safe while you were in prison." Zane lowered his voice. "As promised, he stripped her identity and gave her a new name so that even you couldn't find her once you walked out of prison. But that's not all Pruitt gave your sister. He gave her love and two daughters."

River gasped. Kenna's heart pounded. She couldn't breathe.

Big John landed in the chair, planting his hands on the table. His wild gaze locked on Zane.

"Louanne Carpenter became Lou Pruitt, mother of Kenna and River Pruitt. She married Burt Shay AKA Tom Pruitt in a spiritual wedding not recognized by the state." Zane paused. "Unfortunately, she was killed outside a gas station nine years—"

"Ten," whispered Kenna, staring at Big John. "You're my mom's brother?"

"Louanne—" He blew out his kept breath. "She was my sister."

She turned to River. Tears rolled down her sister's face. Shocked at the new information, she couldn't wrap her head around having a living relative. A living relative she had no idea existed until today.

Big John studied her, studied River, and cleared his throat. "Was she happy?"

Kenna nodded emphatically. "Dad loved her, and she loved Dad and us."

The air came out of Big John, and he cradled his head in disbelief. "How did my sister's kids get to Gem Haven? Are they in danger?"

"Not from Valdones." Zane put his hand on his vice president's shoulder. "You can thank Dad for that." He sat back down. "To catch you up, River and Kenna's dad's sitting on death row. It appears as if Burt Shay asked Dad for a returned favor. He wanted us to watch over his daughters and keep them safe. Kingsley and I have known the girls since they were eleven and twelve years old and being shuffled from foster home to foster home."

"Jesus," muttered Big John, wiping his hand over his jaw.

The muscles in her legs twitched. She bit her lip. On information overload, she couldn't process having an uncle inthe same room. She wasn't ready to have her life story told again. She wanted to put it in the past.

Kingsley squeezed her thigh. "Let's all take a break."

The pent-up air inside her came out in a forceful exhale, and she stood, rushing into the kitchen. Under the guise of getting a drink of water, she panted, trying to steady her racing heart.

Kingsley put his hands on her hips and leaned against her back. "Are you okay?"

"No."

He kissed her temple. "Zane and I figured it out last night when you were sleeping. We weren't trying to keep it from you—"

"It's not that." She swallowed. "I don't even know who I am anymore."

"Kenna Pruitt." He turned her around. "Some day when you're ready, you'll be Kenna Stafford, and that's a name that will belong to you for the rest of your life."

Her breath shuddered. "You're not helping me relax."

He kissed her softly. "You've got an uncle. Your family is growing."

She looked into the dining room. Big John stood at the window, looking out into the backyard, closing himself off from everyone. His shoulders were stiff, and his hands were shoved deep in his front pockets. Her chest tightened. She had ten years to accept the loss of her mother. Big John just found out his sister had died. Not only died but murdered.

He continued to look out the window, lost in his head—a familiar place she went to that helped keep her from falling apart.

She looked into Kingsley's eyes. "I'll be right back."

Escaping the tension in the room, she ran upstairs. In the bedroom, she dropped to her knees beside the bed and pulledout her stack of sketchbooks. She searched for the one she'd had when her parents died.

Grabbing the beaten-up book with the faded cover that had traveled from home to home with her. She thumbed through the pages, almost blind to the drawings she'd seen so many times they were permanently etched in her mind.

She found the one she sought and carefully ripped it from the binding. Taking the sketch downstairs with her, she approached Big John. He continued to look out the window, oblivious to her standing beside him.

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