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“I haven’t told him about Otto,” Kenzi says firmly. “And I won’t.”
For a moment, the silence that hangs between them is thick.
“Tread very, very carefully,” he tells her. “You’ll do anything to protect your son. And I’ll do anything to protect mine.”
With that, Mr. King takes his exit, leaving Kenzi and going back outside to the patio.
Kenzi lingers, however. I watch as she white-knuckles the kitchen counter, frozen in place. Her chest rises and falls quickly with each breath.
I can’t watch her suffer alone anymore. I step out from behind the wall, entering the kitchen. “Hey,” I say gently.
Immediately, her hand flies to her chest. “Jesus, Donovan. You scared the crap out of me.” Her eyes flicker over me, and then she squints. “How long have you—?”
“Long enough.” I lean against the counter beside her. We don’t look at each other, but our arms touch. “So that’s why you haven’t told Jason yet.”
“Otto needs the care he’s getting right now,” Kenzi says softly. “If he didn’t have it…I don’t know what we’d do…”
She sounds terrified, close to tears. I’ve never heard her voice like this.
I reach out and weave my fingers through hers. Her hand is trembling in mine. “We’ll figure it out,” I tell her. “Together. I promise.”
There’s a hiss as the sliding doors open and shut. Immediately, Kenzi retracts her hand, and her back goes stiff.
But it’s only Jason. He steps into the kitchen, a small smile on his lips. “Hey. You guys okay?”
Kenzi matches his smile. “We’re great.” Her walls have gone up again. She’s behind a defense I can’t climb.
“Cool,” Jason says. “You wanna get the fuck out of here?”
I chime in. “Please.”
74
Kenzi
We don’t get quite the same treatment leaving the King residence as we did entering. Rather than the all-smiles greeting committee, we get a couple of tight-lipped grimaces, quick pats on the back, and hope to see you soons that sound less than genuine.
Mr. King has daggers in his eyes, and I can’t wait to be outside of range.
We make it through the cold and into Jason’s car, and Jason has to let the car run for a minute in park, blasting heat on the window shield to clear the crystals.
The second we’re in, Donovan lets out a whoop from the back. “Hands down, the strangest dinner party I’ve ever been to,” he says.
Jason lets out a bit of a laugh. “Yeah, it was…a lot.”
The window clears enough, so he puts the car into gear and pulls us out of the parking lot. I’m not sad to watch the King mansion vanish in the distance. Jason has a mile-long stare, though, as he watches the road ahead.
“How’re you feeling about it?” I ask and slip my hand over his leg.
“Which part?” he asks.
I shrug. “Seeing your ex. Coming out to your family. All of it, I guess.”
The dim light from the headlights casts intense shadows over his face, and I can see the muscles in his jaw tighten as he picks his words carefully. “Lighter,” he finally says. “Scared. But in a good way.”
“Scared…about what?” I press. “Are you worried about what your parents will think?”
This, too, takes him a second to consider. “No,” he says and sounds surprised by his own response. “Honestly? I don’t give a rat’s ass what they think.”
