Burning Truths (Consume Me #2)

30. Kenna

Chapter Thirty

KENNA

A soft tapping on my bedroom door has me rolling over to face the direction the sound is coming from. Looking down, my gaze skates over my body, making sure I’m fully covered before responding.

“Come in.” I call out. The awareness of not knowing who it is is lost in the half asleep fog of my mind.

The numbness wrapping around my bones vibrates through me, shoving the cold from my limbs. Waking up to an empty bed after the memory of us drifting to sleep together last night leaves a bitter taste lining my mouth. The pit of my stomach twists with the reminder that I let him touch me. The skin around my nails ache with the proof of my betrayal. The door swings open and G stands in the opening leaning his arm across the door with a smirk painted across his face. His tongue slips out to flick at his lip ring with a brow raised. Rolling my eyes I pull myself into a sitting position dragging my knees into my chest. If he notices the way my muscles shake with his presence he ignores it.

“Let’s go, Princess.” He orders.

His gaze doesn’t travel further than my face and it provides me a comfort I didn’t realize I needed. When I don’t make a move to follow his lead his arms cross over his broad chest flexing the tattoos that cover them. The dark grey shirt he’s wearing damn near screams with the way his form pulls at the fabric and I can’t help but let out a small soft laugh. There’s just something about him that will always give me the reassurance of being in a safe space. I think I’ve always known that Gio is family even when the Stone brothers were handing him orders to follow me. When my thoughts travel back to the brothers my muscles lock up and my expression must change because he makes a move to step into my room.

Pulling in a deep breath, my legs stretch across the bed, scooting to the foot of the bed I let them slide to the floor. My eyes fall to my feet, head hanging low, my chest pinches when his low voice rolls over me.

“Get dressed. You don’t need to think or do anything other than follow directions. Come on, it'll be fun to spend the day with me.” He jokes.

Tossing an outfit on the bed the fabric lands on my head and lap making us both laugh, softening the mood in the room. Sucking my teeth I nod yanking the black, what seems to be a sports bra, off my head and slapping it against the bed.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” I breathe.

It takes a few seconds, him peering at me for most of them, before he decides he’s okay with what he sees leaving me alone to change. I have no idea why he felt the need to dress me but from the looks of the outfit there are only a few options for what he has planned. Either we’re going on a run or he’s taking me to the fucking Basement. Part of me hopes it's the latter so I can disappear into the crowd to get away.

And where are you going?

Biting the inside of my cheek, frustration sparks in my belly, that fucking voice in my head is back again. I have no idea what to believe at this point yet all I know is something isn’t right. Even now I can’t pull his name forward to let it roll off my tongue but I still want him near. Flashes of the wall spread with photos of their betrayal flickering in the back of my head and even still I fight against the lies mixed in with the truth. Shoving down everything I continue to change, pulling out a pair of shoes, my palms wipe down the workout shorts G tossed me.

The black on black workout gear hugs my form and holds everything into place. My hair is a mess from the braid yesterday and a faint smell of smoke still lingers in the strands but I don’t have time for a shower so I opt to twist it up into a messy bun on top of my head. Rubbing my hands down my face, a small part of me just wants to crawl back in bed, picking my fingers I sigh and turn towards the door. Stepping out of my room, the hallway is empty, so I head to the bathroom yelling out over my shoulder.

“Be right out.” My voice lacks emotion, even I can tell it’s flat.

Flipping on the bathroom light my gaze clashes with the splintered glass that still hangs over the sink in shards. My reflection is broken, a reflection of how I feel on the inside, dried blood still present. Swallowing past the lump in my throat I go through the motions of brushing my teeth and washing my hands after I go to the bathroom. I’ve zoned out when tapping once again pulls me back to the present. Toeing the door open G’s wandering gaze meets mine assessing me. The warm scent of power and wood wafts through my nose.

“Looks like someone got a little angry.” He quips, grinning at me.

Twisting my lips to the side, I rub my knuckles, “Something like that.” I huff.

He steps towards me until my hip is digging into the edge of the sink. Once again his tongue is licking at that damn ring drawing my eyes to the action. Gio is a handsome fucker that’s for damn sure, but he’s family. The only thing we lack is DNA but that doesn’t define us. He brings his hand to my face, pinching my chin with two fingers. Lifting my head, warm brown eyes meeting mine, his lips part.

“Step away from what you think is right and just feel. We’re all fighting the same battle with different scars. The only difference between your fight and theirs is they are fighting for you. Who are you fighting for?” His brow raises in question. Shifting his hold, his palm cups my cheek, a soft smile taking over his face. “Kingston. Stone. They’re just the names we’re born into, but what we do with those names is for us to choose.” His words are so firm and strong they coat my skin in false bravery.

“I don’t know if I can face him once he finds out-” I break off, turning away from his prying eyes.

He doesn’t have to guess what I mean, it’s written all over my face, shame. G yanks me into his chest, harsh and quick, pushing the air from my chest. Cradling my head into him he drops his mouth to my hair.

“Don’t you ever let me or him hear you fucking say that.” He snarls.

Rage spills from him in waves, but he keeps his hold on me steady. Sinking into his hug I let myself fall into the warmth he provides for a moment. The picture he paints is so strong my heart starts to beat harder with the hope that I might be able to breathe again. Plopping a kiss on the top of my head he pulls back with a wicked grin.

“Let’s go.” He says.

Releasing me, he spins on his heels, and heads towards the front of the dorm. I follow behind him a distracted participant to his scheme. Gio leads me out of the dorm building into a twin SUV of the brothers and off we go to the Basement.

Hoots and hollers bounce off the walls coming from down the stairs to the basement. Where the underground fighting ring got its name. The Basement is a place where the Stone brothers started to have fights planned out for people who needed a release, or a lesson to learn. You could come here on your own for a little fun or you could end up here when there was a price to pay to the brothers. Black and white memories start to play in the back of my head the closer we get to the staircase, but I shove them down knowing they’ll do me no good right now.

My legs shake a little with each step, the feeling of being too full still heavy, I make an effort to keep my feet on the ground. G opens the door and the sound grows louder making my eye squint with the onslaught of noise. When we cross the threshold onto the first step voices lower and we don’t need to hear their thoughts to know they’re all looking at me.

Look how skinny she is.

Where has she been?

What did they do to her?

Is she the one that made Cole kill himself?

That last one has G pulling me into his side when my knees buckle at the accusation. They don’t know Cole is alive… Wetting my lips, my fingers dig into my thighs, but I keep my face blank. We take the steps slowly allowing everyone in the open space to get a good look because they won’t get another any time soon. Once we reach the bottom G looks to the back left corner and calls someone over, but I can’t make out who. Faces and bodies blur into each other with so many people in such a tight area. The Basement has large bright lights hanging every few feet across the ceiling casting a blinding glow around us.

The ring is now empty with a younger looking boy standing in the middle with a swollen eye and bleeding lip. Using his thumb he wipes away the crimson liquid and flashes his teeth.

“Parties over!” He shouts across the room. When no one moves he walks to the ropes and stands on the bottom one lifting himself higher over the boisterous onlookers. “Get the fuck out assholes!” He bellows. Everyone turns at once to look at G, and whatever they see on his face puts them in action. Feet shuffle to the exit not wasting any time getting out of the way. G’s made a name for himself around here. People respect the man at my side.

A familiar face walks through a group of men flashing me a smile. I can't help the returning grin that lights up my face when I see him coming towards me. Romero’s name falls from my mouth, and I can feel the heat of G’s glare on the side of my face. Romero pauses, barely a foot away, lifting my hand that’s wrapped from the broken glass in my dorm, he looks between me and G.

He speaks, his tone uneasy, G making him nervous, and of course he would.

“Kenna.” He acknowledges me.

The Stone brothers warned him to stay away from me, but him taking a chance now has pride bubbling in my stomach for the jock, who usually minds his place. I’ve come to like Romero, not in the way I thought I did months ago, but I have a new respect for him now. Taking in G’s stance, the domineering look on his face, knowing that Romero wouldn’t stand a chance against him in the ring, and yet he still not only walked up to me and spoke, but is now cradling my hand. Inspecting the damage and checking to make sure I'm okay.

“How are you, Kenna?” He asks, looking up from my knuckles, his eyes flipping between me and the brute beside me.

My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment because I know that everyone’s watching this interaction and confusion has to be taking over. One minute I’m with a Stone, the next I’m with G, and now Romero is holding my hand delicately. I remind myself to not give a fuck what these pricks think right now not when everything is starting to come back together. My memories and thoughts are starting to be less clouded.

“You look like you’re about to kick some ass.” He nods to my outfit with a crooked grin. “Have fun but be careful.” He says before backing away, making a move to go around us. Pausing, he gives G a dark look, “Take care of her.” His tone is low and hard.

G’s jaw ticks, clenching tight, I can feel the agitation rolling from his skin heating the space between us. A soft laugh leaves me and his head jerks to the side, our eyes clashing. The broody bastard doesn’t like the threat that he feels Romero just left him with, but really it was a request to make sure I’m taken care of, so I take it with ease. I reach out to grab his large hand squeezing tightly, giving him a half smile, and jerking my head towards the ring signaling him that I’m ready.

“Hey, Kingston.” A voice calls out drawing my attention to a male and a woman standing between a lingering group of people.

The others are forcing their way through the crowds towards the door but something made these two pause. G’s arm whips around my waist with a tight grip pulling me close to his side, but my stare is set on the man staring back at me. Around his throat is a haunting tattoo giving the illusion of the dead pulling him down to hell. The skeleton hand wrapped around his throat tattooed there like a stamp or branding claiming him. My eyes drift from the ink to his dark eyes then to the woman standing beside him. Her stare is harsh and her lips curl into a snarl, but neither of them look familiar. She has long red hair down to her waist with tattoos covering every inch of her arms. They look like a fierce pair side by side. She’s every bit as beautiful as she is feral.

Green eyes float from mine down to where G’s arm connects with my bare skin and they darken. Her painted red lips twitch before she jerks her eyes away looking towards the exit.

“I’ll be seeing you.” She quips but it’s not me she’s looking at anymore. It’s the man with his hand resting on my hip.

G flashes her a wide grin, “Keep your eyes to yourself, little tease.” His words spark something behind her eyes.

The man finally pulls his gaze from me and tugs at her arm with a look crossing his face that says he’s pissed. At me or her? Rolling my shoulder I try to shove that question away for another day. The room is almost empty. By now the soft whispers and murmurs lingering die down but I ignore them. Stepping up to the ring, G nudges me forward, making me break my focus on the weird standoff we’re in. The man finally turns away and follows the woman out of the Basement. G pulls back the rope to the ring letting me step through and a memory slams into me sucking the air from my lungs. The flashes bring an array of colorful feelings, one of shock and fear, but more than that a feeling of power and seduction. At the forefront of those memories is the man in question himself. Ryker fucking Stone. He holds every facet of my memories for as long as I can remember.

Ryker Stone.

The faint phantom buzz against my throat conjures the familiar feeling of pain, but it never comes. The strike of lightning never follows.