Page 37 of Room Ten: Put on a Show

After holstering my gun, I wrapped Kenna in my arms and kissed the top of her head. She was sticky with blood and tears, shaking like a leaf. Closing my eyes with relief, I crushed her against me, even as the wail of police sirens echoed in the air.

I was never letting our girl go.

Chapter Twelve

Troy

When I showed up at Kenna’s place, I flashed my press badge without stopping or slowing down. Even though it was fake, it still opened doors that would have been otherwise closed to me as a celebrity gossip writer. And there was no way I would give the cops a chance to get a closer look at my credentials to verify them tonight.

I found Baron in the kitchen seated on a stool with his shirt off and a wad of bloody bandages swathed around his shoulder. A paramedic was putting the final stitches into a nasty gash at his temple.

“Kenna?” I didn’t even bother trying to hide the worry in my voice. Baron had called, explaining the situation with the stalker and told me to come see Kenna immediately. “Is she okay? Is she hurt? Where is she?”

“She’s with Merrick,” Baron replied. “He’s getting her cleaned up.”

Cleaned up.What did that mean? A dozen worst-case scenarios flew through my mind at the speed of light. Before I could say anything, Baron waved me off.

“Go. She’s waiting for you. In the bathroom.”

He’d barely finished speaking when I hurried out of the kitchen, down the corridor, dodging police officers on the way. Her bedroom was swarming with people. I caught a glimpse of the bloodstain on the carpet and bile burned in the back of my throat.

Please tell me that blood doesn’t belong to Kenna,I thought.

I tore my gaze away from that grisly nightmare and stumbled toward Kenna’s giant bathroom. Shouldering the door open, I found Merrick seated on the edge of the tub. Kenna huddled in the bath, her knees drawn up to her chest, while he sponged at her back and shoulders. The bath water was pink with blood.

“Troy, you’re here?” Kenna whispered.

She held out her arms to me. I dropped to my knees beside the tub and pulled her close. I didn’t give a shit that her damp body soaked through my shirt. I needed to feel her warm skin, hear the beat of her heart, and look over every inch of her to reassure myself that she was really, truly okay.

“Baron called,” I said, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and shoulder. “He told me everything.”

“I was so scared,” Kenna said with a hiccup.

Merrick tapped me on the shoulder. I glanced up to see him handing me a towel. I took it with a look of gratitude. Then I wrapped it around Kenna, smoothing strands of her wet hair away from her face. She wore none of her usual makeup—no mascara, no dark purple lipstick, no glitter lotion. Just Kenna, barefaced, exhausted, and alive.

A sharp knock came at the door. Merrick made a noise of frustration and pushed to his feet. He opened the door a crack, angling his body to give Kenna privacy so no one could peek past him.

“What?” he demanded.

“It’s Officer Samuels again. Look, I know Miss Newhouse is upset about what happened this morning, but we really need to take her statement.”

“She’s not ready,” Merrick countered.

“But—”

“I said no. She’s been held hostage at gunpoint and covered in blood. No one is getting her fucking statement until she’s had time to recover after what she’s been through. Like I said before, Kenna will come down to the police station when she’s ready. Is that clear?”

The officer blustered for several seconds, spouting words likestandard procedureandobstructing the law. In the end, Merrick simply stared him down and the officer finally went slinking off.

I raised my eyebrows, surprised that I hadn’t received the same hostile stonewall from Merrick when I’d arrived. After the officer was gone, Merrick closed the door. In the sanctuary of Kenna’s bathroom, it was quiet, peaceful, and the milling activity outside couldn’t reach her.

“That was impressive,” I said.

Merrick grunted in response. His gaze shifted down to Kenna, tucked into my embrace. She peeked at him over my bicep and reached out. He took her hand, reclaiming his seat on the edge of the tub again.

“Is Baron going to be okay?” she whispered.

Merrick nodded. “He’s a stubborn old man, princess. He’ll be fine.”

---