Series Starter Firsts in Series Collection - Kaylee Ryan Page 0,103

hold you?” I ask her. My voice is thick with the emotion I’m fighting back.

She just stares at me, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Please, baby.” My voice cracks again. I don’t take my eyes off her and I’m thankful, because she gives a slight nod. That’s all the encouragement I need before I’m on my feet and wrapping her in my arms. She begins to sob against my chest, and I can feel my own emotions welling up in my throat. She’s breaking my fucking heart right now and I can’t fix this. I need to fix this for her.

I hear Dawn gasp, and I know she and Mark have just read the letter.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I assume it’s my parents.’ I dig it out and toss it to Mark. “Check that. If it’s my parents,’ text them and let them know I need them to keep Knox a little longer, and I’ll explain later.” He nods and his fingers begin flying across the screen.

I don’t move, just hold her as close as I can, running my fingers through her hair, continually kissing the top of her head. I’ll stand here in this spot and hold her for as long as it takes.

“Kendall, sweetie, why don’t you guys sit down? I’ll get you something to drink,” Dawn suggests.

Kendall doesn’t move, and neither do I. “I got you,” I murmur in her ear. She grips my shirt tighter.

I don’t know how long we stand there. Seconds, minutes, hours, days—I’ve lost complete track of time.

“Baby, you want to sit?” I ask her. She gives a slight nod so I pull away, intending on carrying her, and she latches on.

“Don’t leave me,” she cries.

Fuck me.

“Shhh, I’m not going anywhere.” Bending down, I lift her into my arms and carry her to the couch. She curls into my chest and buries her face in my neck.

I run my hands up and down her back, trying to soothe her. “Kendall, baby, I need you to help me here. There was a lot of information in that letter, and I don’t know what’s spooked you the most. Can you talk to me?”

No response.

“Hey, man, your mom’s not feeling well. I’m going to meet them and take Knox back to your place,” Mark says, his voice low.

“No.” Kendall lifts her head. “Bring him here.” She looks up at me. “Please?”

I nod to Mark. “Okay, babe, he’s going to bring Knox here.”

“I’ll go with you,” Dawn tells Mark.

I’m thankful to have a minute with just us—hopeful is more like it. Maybe I can get her to talk. “Baby, please talk to me.”

“I’m adopted,” she finally says.

“Did you already know that?” I ask her. “I mean, I know what the letter said, but was she right? Did you know?”

“Yeah, I was a baby, a newborn. My birth mother, she was just a kid. She did what was best for me, and I’ve lived an amazing life,” she says through more tears. Her voice is sad.

“Did you know you were a twin?”

“No.”

Okay, well, we’re starting to get somewhere. “That’s a shock, huh?”

“Yeah, but she was your Melissa, Ridge.”

My Melissa. “She was Knox’s mother, yes, but she was never mine, Kendall.”

“I’m finally happy, happy with a man who makes my heart skip a beat every day.” She sniffles. “And now I’m going to lose him.”

Wait, what? “Kendall, look at me.” She doesn’t. I tilt her chin up with my index finger. “How are you going to lose me?”

“Because!” she yells. “My twin sister was your one-night stand. Knox’s mom. I’ll be a constant reminder of what you lost.”

“Never,” I say, shifting her in my lap so she’s straddling me. I cup her face with my hands and make her look at me. “That’s never fucking going to happen. You are my heart, and nothing—and I mean nothing—will take me away from you. Is that what you think? That I could just stop loving you?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers, her voice giving away just how bad this is hurting her.

“There is no choice, sweet girl. I’m no longer me without you—you and Knox. You are a part of me, Kendall Dawson. She was a girl I met in a bar, and we slept together. That night resulted in the miracle that is my son. What happened to her is tragic and sad. Finding out that she’s your twin, that’s news that rocks the foundation, shakes it up a little, but it doesn’t crumble. Nothing ever will.”

She continues to