Page 45 of Grave Kisses
Marcus wraps me in a hug, and Bellamy moves his hands to my waist. “We encouraged him to talk to you because we too thought there was something there. You deserve all of the happiness and comfort the world can offer, and I didn’t want to force that door shut if you possibly wanted it open… but I felt how uncomfortable you were. When you were standing between his legs, and he started touching them, you seemed to withdraw… like you were trying to disappear… You were tensewhen he kissed you and nearly ran away the first chance you got.”
“I’m afraid to say anything now,” I admit. “He just lost his wife. I think that is what is driving this, so… maybe it’s just best to play things out for now. If I fully reject him, it might hurt the case, and…I just need Archer to be found. I can’t hurt Jeff any more than he already is, or Archer might actually kill me.”
“I agree,” Bellamy sighs. “I don’t like the idea of lying to him or making you put yourself in a position where you have to pretend, but… We can be the bad guys and intercept.”
“Right. If you don’t want him touching you, he won’t. It’s that simple. I have no problem being the controlling asshole boyfriend,” Marcus says.
“I think it might be for the better that we hire a private investigator, though,” Bellamy says. “And I know exactly who we can call.”
“Who?” I ask.
“My sister,” he says, kissing my shoulder. “We can get you in bed, and I’ll give her a call.”
“Okay,” I say with a sigh. “I am exhausted.”
“You just stand there and look pretty. We will take care of you,” Marcus says. He gently lifts my chin and kisses me. Everythingdisappears, and I lean into him more, soaking in all of the love and comfort I can. When I pull away, I smile up at him.
“I love you both so much,” I say.
“We love you too, Kendra. Always,” Marcus says softly.
Chapter Sixteen
Bellamy
Kendra is finally asleep.She spent a lot of time restless before Marcus and I got her settled. She seems to love how we care for her but will often make comments that she feels like a child for needing so much comfort and reassurance. How I look at it is that she had her entire childhood stolen from her. Alan did great giving her the peace she needed, but she is still healing from that trauma. It is a long road, and we, as her partners, need to respect that she needs comforting more times than others. It’s not even that big of a deal, honestly. Why would I be bothered about getting to cuddle her to sleep? She is so damn adorable when she snuggles up to us. She does this cute little butt wiggle when she gets into a really comfortable position. It’s like her happy dance for when she has reached peak comfort. God, and the way she smiles so brightly when her worries melt away and she is both safe and content… I’d do anything to keep giving her those moments of peace.
“She asleep?” I ask Marcus.
“Yeah,” he says, still stroking her hair. “I feel so goddamn bad…”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “It’s like we just walked her into a trap, but I don’t know what the trap is for.”
“Yeah. Something is off. When she suddenly froze and he touched her… I could have fucking broken his neck for how overjoyed he seemed that she was obviously scared,” he says. “We need to make sure he isn’t alone with her. I don’t think she would be able to speak up if he tried something. I’m not saying he’d rape her, but I don’t think he can see that she isn’t feeling what he is. Until she got back, I thought there was something there, but he escalated things, and she pulled back, a lot.”
“It’s like…” I start to say. “It’s manipulative. He’s manipulating us and her. I don’t know why, though. It only recently started happening, and I never even noticed it until tonight. I would have cut it off, but I didn’t want to rush to assume she was actually uncomfortable. Ya know?”
“Yeah. I am so proud of her for voicing all of that to us. I didn’t think she would,” Marcus says. “Not in a deceptive way, but she doesn’t like to disappoint people. She puts everyone else's feelings before her own, but she didn’t do that with this. Even when frozen, she set boundaries.”
“Well… Let’s talk to Chrissy and see,” I say. I grab my phone off the side table and find my sister’s number. Chrissy is a firecracker of a woman. She is only twenty-five, but she is akick-ass private investigator. She works for a man named Decan Charles. He more or less poached her from the police academy and is helping her get licensed. She won’t admit that she is in love with him, but I’m not stupid.
“Hello?” Chrissy mutters.
“Hey. Sorry, did I wake you?” I ask as Marcus and I move to sit on the couch across the room so we don’t wake Kendra. I place the call on speakerphone but turn it down.
“Yeah, but you are okay. What’s up?” she asks.
I explain everything from the start, not leaving anything out. Chrissy hates when people are vague, so it’s easier to be specific now to save her from having to ask later. She listens quietly while I go through everything. When I explain what happened tonight, all she says is “Uh oh,” but continues to listen.
“So… We don’t trust that something sketchy isn’t going on. I don’t want to overstep or make them think we aren’t cooperative, but I can’t risk someone hurting her. She has been through far too much.”
“I agree,” Chrissy says. “If she flipped that fast, she is probably sensing something she doesn’t understand.”
“Exactly,” Marcus says. “It might just be a response from him losing his wife though.”
“I doubt it,” a man says.
“Ah. I see,” I laugh.
