“Holy shit,” Parker said like Kennedy wasn’t standing right there. “She’s not kidding.” She shoved her husband out of the way and stepped up to Kennedy’s side. “Hey.” Kennedy looked from me to her friend. “I can’t promise that I won’t get pissed. That I won’t cry. But if what you need from me is for me not to act… I won’t.”
“Same,” came from Remy. “It’s not like I’d have a choice, anyway. Parker wouldn’t hesitate to cut out my liver.”
“I can’t promise that,” Casper whispered brokenly. She had tears in her eyes, streaming down her cheeks, and Cole had her wrapped in his arms protectively. “We already lost Cassie. I’m not going to let you do anything that might mean I lose you too.”
“What she said,” Cole agreed with his wife. “If it’s going to cost us you, we won’t do it.”
“Damn it,” Remy snapped. “I’m changing my answer.”
“I’m not.” Parker glared at her husband. “You’re on your own. I made my choice.”
“Kennedy.” Her father reached forward and put his hand on hers. “We love you. If what’s in this file is something that you can handle, that you feel confident that you can take care of, none of us will interfere.”
“Fucking right,” I muttered under my breath.
I would rot in Hell before I ever let Kennedy face anything alone. There was a reason I put my ring on her finger. I’d kill for her. I’d sure as fuck die for her. And if it meant that I had to stand silently behind her while she fought her demons, I would.
“Now that we’ve settled that debate.” Remy leaned forward and tapped the folder. “Maybe you can tell us what’s in the file.”
Kennedy looked up at me, once again ignoring everyone else. “Don’t freak out.”
I knew in that instant that it had to do with Royal. Her hand was on top of the file, so I put mine over hers. “I promised you. No matter what. On the other side of this, I’m not going anywhere.”
She nodded, biting her lip while she lifted the folder.
The first photo was of her neck, with a handprint wrapped around it, already bruised. Her face was darkened with dried blood, and her hair was matted against her skull.
I had to tune out the gasps from her family. Instead, I concentrated on my ring. The one sitting on Kennedy’s finger.
“Royal beat me.” I felt the weight on her shoulders, the way Kennedy slumped as she admitted what she thought was her greatest failure. “And when I wouldn’t give him what he wanted, he almost killed me.”
That’s all she said. But she slid the pages and the photos out of the folder and onto the table for everyone to see. There wasn’t space to move, but we all fit as we stared, one by one, at the images of Kennedy’s worst night.
Streaks of blood and tiny cuts all over her body. A chain. He used a chain, and he cut into her skin. Not deep enough to cause the type of scars I’d expect. But enough that she should have died. There were so many of them. Over a hundred, and that was a light estimate. Her body was covered in them. Bruises from where he hit her either before or during or even after spotted her back. The back of her neck was probably the worst. There was an entire patch in one photo where Royal must have ripped hair from her head, because there was nothing but skin and blood where there should be hair.
I kept my shit together better than I thought I would. Until the last image. The one with her hand. More blood, and the chain she clenched in her fist, cutting into her skin as she refused to let it go. I recognized the metal curve as it dug into her hand.
The dog tag I’d given her all those years ago. And I wasn’t the only one who noticed it. Every man in the room wore a set of dog tags at one point in their life. I couldn’t even meet her eyes, let alone anyone else’s. I couldn’t face the shame for what I’d done.
Kennedy wasn’t just beat for fun. Royal didn’t try to kill her because she wouldn’t love him. He was a psychopath at the very least, true. He was the worst kind of man; that was never in doubt. But Kennedy held back to protect me. When she confided in me about what he did, she didn’t tell me why, or if he even had a reason.
The file and the photos were proof. Kennedy almost died because of me.
“I love you.” Her voice cut through the pain and darkness that had settled around me like an old friend. “I love you, and you did not do this. Regardless of what you think.”
“Why are you showing us this?” Veronica hiccupped. “What’s going on?”
“I lied to the responding officer, but they still documented everything, Mom. They took DNA evidence. And I’m going to tell the truth. He killed Mallory Mitchells, and I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure that he doesn’t do the same thing to anyone else.”
Kennedy’s demand, her need to handle it, to keep us from interfering, it all made sense now.
“I don’t need you to protect me.” Kennedy’s eyes locked on mine, her fingers clenching around my hand. “I need you to stand by my side while I destroy him.”
24
Kennedy
“I lied,” I admitted to the officers sitting in the conference room to take my statement. “I was involved in an abusive relationship with one of the most affluential defense attorneys in the area. I didn’t want him to kill my family, like he threatened.”
Sitting across from the same two men who’d come to the hospital that night wasn’t my idea of a good time. Not only that, but they were both watching me with matching looks of disbelief.
“I don’t think I believe you,” Deputy Limm said bluntly. “Don’t get me wrong; I didn’t believe you that night either. And there’s no doubt in my mind that you were involved in an abusive relationship. I just find it hard to believe that it’s only after he accuses your boyfriend of murder that you come out of the woodwork with this.”
I swallowed down the rage I felt at his accusation, and looked at the victim’s advocate that Maya had arranged for me. She nodded silently, offering her support.
“You don’t actually have to believe me,” I told him. “I recorded the incident on my phone. Not only that, but he videotaped multiple assaults.”
Both deputies immediately sat forward, their dismissal of my earlier statement gone. “You have the recordings?” They shared a look. “Do you know where he would keep the tape of the assault?”
When I shook my head at that, the second officer, Deputy Atwell, shrugged. “With the recording of the assault that you have, we’ll be able to get a warrant for everything.”
He rubbed a hand over his beard. “If you had the recording this whole time, why not come forward sooner? That’s bothering me. What can he use against you in court, Kennedy?”
“Nothing,” I admitted. “There was no reason. He threatened to kill me. To kill my family. You know my brother and my father.” I nodded toward the glass window behind us. I didn’t even have to look to know that they were standing there, silently offering their protection.
“It’s hard to miss them,” Deputy Atwell said. “But I think your mother has the scariest reputation in the state as far as dispatchers go. I’d be more afraid if she was out there.”