Page 19 of Room Ten: Put on a Show

“If you need anything, Merrick is at the door,” I said.

Kenna nodded but she remained entranced by the news. Leaving the room as quietly as I had entered, I eased the door shut behind me. Merrick raised his eyebrows, waiting for a report on how Kenna was doing, but I didn’t give him one.

Instead, I marched through the house and across the street, heading straight for Troy’s car. As I approached, I could make out his figure in the driver’s seat. I pounded my fist on his window and he jumped about a foot in the air, snapping his head to the side to stare at me with a startled look.

I jerked a thumb over my shoulder.

“Kenna isn’t entertaining guests. Get out of here.”

Troy fumbled out of his car. I was tempted to grab him by the scruff of his neck and shove him back inside. He looked frazzled. His hair—usually perfectly combed back—stuck up haphazardly as if he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly for hours. I saw that same haunted look in Troy’s eyes that Kenna had exhibited a moment ago.

“I just—” Troy broke off, floundering.

I’d never seen him so scattered. He was always smooth as a snake, dishing out compliments like candy on Halloween.

Troy shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched up around his ears, glancing toward Kenna’s house.

“I just wanted to see her. Is she okay? Was she hurt?”

“She’s fine,” I said flatly. “But you need to go.”

Troy’s throat worked as he seemed to consider something, weighing it in his mind. Then he shifted his gaze toward me.

“That shooter was there for her, wasn’t he?”

I said nothing. I had no proof to confirm or deny Troy’s suspicions, and I wasn’t going to give him theories without evidence. God only knows what he would do with that kind of information. There was enough hysteria around the incident as it was. Troy would undoubtedly sensationalize the whole thing, blowing it wildly out of proportion as long as it earned him a loyal readership.

“I can’t say,” I replied at last.

Troy huffed. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Both.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Then he spread his hands. “I’m here entirely off the record, just so you know. You don’t have to ice me out.”

“Kenna’s safety was put at risk last night. As long as that shooter is free, her safety will continue to be compromised. I don’t care how well she knows you, or how often the two of you fuck, that doesn’t earn you any right to her privacy.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but Kenna’s front door flew open and Kenna emerged, bare footed, the hem of her shirt reaching mid-thigh.

“Troy! Thank God you’re here.”

Merrick made a grab for Kenna’s arm but he missed by an inch. She flew across the street and flung herself into Troy’s arms. He buried his face in her neck with a noise of relief, lifting her up until she hooked her legs around his waist.

I glanced at Merrick who mirrored my expression of displeasure. We could claim that Kenna was in danger. We could pry them apart and force Troy to leave.

But she was happy. She was smiling.

I couldn’t break her heart by separating them, even if I wanted to be the one that Kenna wrapped her body around so eagerly.

“I’m so fucking glad you’re okay, darling,” Troy muttered into Kenna’s shoulder.

“It all happened so fast,” Kenna babbled. “I thought you were right behind me and then you weren’t and I couldn’t find you—”

She broke off and looked up at me with pleading eyes.

“Can Troy stay for a while?”

“No,” Merrick said resolutely as he crossed the street. “Kenna, you need to get inside. It’s too exposed out here.”

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