When I Break by Kendall Ryan


  I had to force myself out of bed in the morning. Some days were tougher than others, and after last night, I wasn’t feeling particularly put together and ready to face the day.

  I didn’t know why the sadness hit me harder some days. Maybe it was PMS. Maybe it was the sting of Knox’s rejection, but I sat up in bed, my legs folded underneath me, fighting back tears and wishing I could talk to my mom. Knowing my parents no longer existed in this world was too much to process. The weight of their deaths crashed down on me and made it difficult to breathe. I felt like a massive dinosaur was sitting on my chest. A feeling that everyone told me should have faded by now, but was alive and present. I just needed to keep busy to block out the pain. It helped me carry on when I no longer wanted to.

  That was what I focused on as I laced up my tennis shoes and threw my hair into a ponytail. I was meeting Belinda for coffee this morning to discuss the progress of my group, and then I was headed to a shelter to volunteer. I couldn’t keep running off to see Knox. He wasn’t someone to rely on. He was sick and needed help, and I would help him the best I could. I had only myself to rely on. Which was why I’d signed up to be part of a cleaning crew, wiping down cots and mattresses, scrubbing toilets, and mopping floors at the shelter today. If that didn’t distract me from thoughts of Knox and this dangerous game I was playing with him, nothing would.

  When I arrived at Cup O’ Brew, I found Belinda already seated in a comfy armchair at the back of the café. I waved to her, and then ordered a hot chocolate at the counter. I even splurged and got whipped cream, hoping the extra sugar would help elevate my mood.

  My insides were burning with curiosity, wondering if Knox had gone out looking for a girl after I’d left. Of course he had. Why wouldn’t he? And I shouldn’t feel the things I did. It would have been normal to be worried about his safety, his health, his mental wellness. Instead I felt a combination of jealousy and regret. Maybe if I’d stayed and talked to him, he’d have chosen me instead of the path he went down. It was all I’d thought about since last night, and I had the dark circles under my eyes to prove it.

  Carrying my paper cup, I crossed the room to meet Belinda.

  “You look well.” She rose and gave me a brief hug.

  I was good at hiding how miserable and alone I felt. And at knowing how to apply under-eye concealer to cover up the fact I’d spent the night tossing and turning.

  “Thanks. You do too. I love your scarf.”

  The truth was Belinda went completely overboard with accessories. Bright pink hoop earrings, a rabbit brooch on her sweater, a colorful scarf wrapped around her neck, and a giant purple handbag. It was enough color to give me a headache. I slid into the wide leather armchair across from her and took a sip of my hot chocolate.

  “Tell me how it’s going leading the new group.”

  I fidgeted with my cup, like Belinda would somehow read my thoughts and know all I thought about these days was Knox. “It’s going well. I have about twelve regular members and occasionally get drop-ins too.” I wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to hear. Did she want updates on each individual and their progress?

  “Good. And how about participation?”

  “Participation in class is average. Some talk more than others, those who are quiet pay attention thought and often nod along.” Except Knox; he only shares when we’re alone together.

  Belinda took a notebook from her giant purse and flipped it open to scribble something down. “And engagement with fellow group members? How’s that?”

  “Engagement?” I had no idea what she meant.

  “Do they support each other, do they mingle after group is over and talk? Exchange phone numbers? Things like that.”

  “Oh. Um, no, not really.” Most people fled the room as soon as the hour was up, like they were desperate to get away.

  “It’s something I’d like you to encourage. This is their group. They are there to support each other. It’s your job to connect them, encourage them to build friendships inside the group.”

  I looked at Belinda, wondering how I’d accomplish that. My mind flashed to Knox again and I imagined partnering him up with Bill or Donald for sharing time, and knew that wouldn’t work. But why was I even thinking of that when I’d told Knox not to bother coming back? Feelings of overwhelming guilt pierced through me, and I struggled to remain composed.

  Belinda leaned forward in her chair. “We can provide the structure of a one-hour weekly meeting, but for most people that’s not enough. They need a support system of others who care about their progress and success. It also teaches them there is a way to get their social needs met through healthy interactions, rather than just with sex.”

  She was talking about friendship, and suddenly I realized that I was that person for Knox. Before I ruined things, he was slowly starting to open up. I had hoped over time it would lead to his recovery, though it wasn’t my motivator for spending time with him. The truth was, I liked him. I liked being near him. I didn’t think Belinda would approve of that, though. Just the thought of telling her I’d been to his house, spent time alone with him, made my chest flush. No, I would need to keep that to myself.

  “I’ll work on it,” I promised.

  “Good. We’ll meet again in a few weeks, and I want to hear about your progress and who you’ve connected in the group.”

  I made a move to get up, but Belinda held up a hand to stop me.

  “There’s one more thing. I’m sending a young woman to your group. Amanda’s a little different from our usual case. I’ve been individually counseling her, but I think she could benefit from a group setting. She has a sex and love addiction. She looks for Mr. Right in all the wrong places. She even tried to trap her last hookup into a relationship by getting pregnant. It obviously didn’t work out the way she wanted—she’s now pregnant and alone and has come forward for help.”

  “How far along is she?”

  “Three months. She’s not showing yet, but I wanted you to know her background. She’s about your age, so I thought perhaps you two might connect. Tread lightly with this one. She’s fragile.”

  Join the club. Maybe I wasn’t in any position to be giving out counseling advice with the state of my own life, but I nodded. “I will. And thanks for believing in me.” Her faith in me made me feel even guiltier about my growing feelings for Knox.

  But I needed to put that out of my mind. I was due at the shelter and had a day of hard work ahead of me.

  Chapter Twelve

  Knox

  As I lay in bed tossing and turning, I worked over and over again in my mind what had happened between me and McKenna. I shouldn’t want her. I wasn’t the right man for her. She should be with someone educated, polite, and well-mannered. Not some asshole like me who had experienced enough loss to turn my heart into a hollow drum.

  I knew one thing for sure—I wasn’t good enough for her. And I’d been stupid to even fantasize that I might be. Last night had cemented the deal; she’d run and I had too. Straight into the arms of a stripper. Temporary bliss was all I had these days. Finding a willing, wet girl to sink into provided twenty minutes of mind-numbing sensation, and I couldn’t give that up. Going out a couple of nights a week was my distraction. And thoughts of McKenna were starting to interfere with that. She was dangerous. I’d turned off my emotions a long time ago as my only source of protection, and I couldn’t have her tearing those walls down.

  But morning light brought a fresh perspective to everything and I wanted her. Why deny myself?

  Tracking her down was harder than I thought it would be. Her asshole of a roommate hadn’t wanted to help me; that was crystal clear. He looked at me through squinted eyes, presumably guessing that all I wanted was to get inside her panties. And while that might have been true, today I actually just wanted to apologize.

  She’d taken a chance coming over last night, groceries in hand, offering to cook for us. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had done anything like that for us. Not
since my mother. And when I realized that I couldn’t get what I wanted—her—I’d gone all macho caveman, running her out and heading to my old stomping grounds.

  Little good it had done me. I’d sat there sulking like a pussy, unable to stop thinking about her, until I’d finally just gone home and crawled into bed alone.

  But after I applied some pressure this morning, Brian had finally told me that she was volunteering at a shelter today, and said good luck finding her. It turned out the city of Chicago had dozens of shelters. I’d visited six of them already and was almost about to call off my mission when lucky number seven turned out to be the right one.

  Letting myself inside the front doors, I was struck with the stench of sweat and mildew. I approached a woman seated behind what appeared to be bulletproof glass. This was the place McKenna came in her free time?

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m looking for a girl named McKenna. Is she here today?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  I thought about describing her to the woman, but realized there’d be no way I could do that without sounding like a prick. She’s the perfect height to fit against me, curves that would bring a man to his knees, an ass you just want to admire, and tits to fit perfectly in the palm of your hand.

  So I lied. “I’m here to volunteer with my friend McKenna, but I’m not sure which shelter she’s at today.”

  “Oh. You’re here to volunteer? Well, come on then. I’ll take you to her.” The woman rose to her feet and motioned for me to follow her to a door just down the hall. Seconds later, it opened and I followed her inside. She led me through a series of hallways, and we passed by a large commercial kitchen and several bathrooms before finally entering a huge room filled with stacks and stacks of cots.

  McKenna was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, a bucket of soapy water at her side, wiping down a cot with a sponge. The woman turned and left me there at the entrance to the room, just staring at McKenna. I was too taken aback to say anything just yet. Who was this beautiful girl who gave so selflessly, who worked tirelessly to serve others?

  As I watched her scrubbing down the cot, I was struck with the realization that McKenna was a good person, a rare find these days. She looked so tiny and out of place in this dirty, windowless room on her hands and knees cleaning up other people’s filth. Her hair was tied up in a hasty knot and her cheeks were rosy and pink from exertion. She looked like a blue-eyed, shimmering-haired angel in these grim surroundings.

  “Need a hand?” I called out, stepping forward to enter the room.

  “Knox?” She rose to her feet. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to help out today. Brian told me where to find you.”

  “You talked to Brian?”

  I nodded, not bothering to mention that he hadn’t wanted to help me, or that he’d been a complete asshole. Uneasy, I stood before her and surveyed our surroundings. “So, where do you need me?”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I’m sorry for last night; I was an ass.” I stayed quiet while she looked me over. She was waiting for me to say more, so I took a step closer. “I’m not good at apologies and heartfelt displays, but I truly did come here today to help out. If you want me.”

  She chewed on her lip in indecision and for a second I thought she was going to push me away. “Okay,” she said.

  “Okay?”

  She nodded, smiling at me. “I’m glad you’re here. And I’m sorry about what I said last night. Of course I want you back in group.”

  “Don’t worry. I knew you were bluffing about that.” I rubbed my hands together. “So, what’s our task?”

  “See all those cots?” She pointed to several six-foot-high stacks of cots lining the far wall. “We need to wash all of them.”

  “All of them?” There had to be hundreds. “And you were going to do that all by yourself?”

  She nodded. Shit, that would have taken her all day. Didn’t she have anything better to do with her time than sit in a dank room cleaning for hours on end for no pay and little recognition?

  I couldn’t really picture her prioritizing going shopping at the mall or getting her nails done above this type of work, though. This was just who she was. I’d spent very little time with her, and I already knew that. She was a giver. Would she be as giving and accommodating in the bedroom? A pang of lust jabbed at my gut at the thought. Down, boy.

  “I’ll get you a bucket of soapy water and a sponge,” she said, heading to the exit. I couldn’t help but watch the sway of her ass encased in tight denim. She really was beautiful. Even in her jeans and T-shirt.

  When she returned, I was unstacking the cots and lining them up in rows so we could wash each one. The thought of McKenna doing all this manual labor alone made me glad I came. This was a big job for one person.

  McKenna returned, setting the bucket down beside me and splashing me with warm soapy water in the process. I considered engaging her in a water fight, but decided against it. She took this work seriously and I would show her that I could too.

  We worked side by side for the better part of an hour, making only a small dent in the work ahead of us. I wondered if McKenna was set on getting through the entire bunch, or if I could talk her into going out to lunch. Looking over at her, I knew there was no way she was leaving until the job was done. She worked without pause or complaint as determination blazed in her eyes.

  Dropping my sponge into the bucket of water, I went to unstack another set of cots for us to wash, moving the damp ones to the far side of the room where they could air dry while McKenna went to dump out our buckets of dirty water and refill them. My fingers were already pruned and my back was aching from sitting hunched over on the floor. But I wouldn’t complain. Not while McKenna was still working so adamantly to clean these beds for people she didn’t even know, would never meet. I had no idea why this was so important to her, but I could tell that it was.

  We fell into a routine, my moving and unstacking cots, McKenna refilling our water, and each of us washing in silence. Seven hours later and finally we were down to the last couple of cots.

  “Oh, Christ.” I swore, pushing the filthy cot away from me. Someone had deliberately buried this one at the bottom of the stack.

  “What’s wrong?” She peered over at me from across the room.

  There was shit smeared on the cot in front of me. If she really expected me to wipe up someone else’s crap, she was crazy. “This one needs to be taken out back and burned.”

  “What?” She laughed, rising to her feet and crossing the room to stand over me. “Oh.” She frowned, looking down at the brown stains.

  “Someone shit the bed,” I joked dryly.

  “Just scrub it off.”

  “Hell no.”

  “You change Bailee’s diapers. What’s the difference?”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her. “She’s a baby. Babies shit their pants, this is different. This is probably from a grown-ass man. That’s a whole different ball game.”

  “Fine, I’ll do this one.” She dropped to her knees to kneel beside me.

  “No way I’m letting you do that. We seriously can’t just throw this one away? Surely they have a dumpster out back.”

  “Knox, we’re not throwing away the poop cot. It’ll come clean. They’re short on cots as it is.”

  Fuck me, the things I’d do for this girl. I soaked the sponge in soapy water and began scrubbing at the cot, fighting back the gagging in my throat.

  When I was done, she giggled and said, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “I need a shower.”

  “They have showers here.”

  I rolled my eyes. The idea of showering here made me feel even dirtier somehow. “Come on. We’re going out.”

  “We are? I was going to find the director and see if I could help with anything else.”

  “McKenna, we’ve been here a
ll day. My hands are pruned, my knees are sore from kneeling on a concrete floor, and I was just subjected to human feces. We’re leaving.”

  She giggled again. “Okay, I suppose you’re right. We did enough for one day.”

  I was about to correct her and let her know I’d done enough for a lifetime, but I didn’t want her to change her mind about leaving, so I shut my mouth and trailed behind her.

  After a stop in the restroom, where I doused my hands, forearms, and even my face and neck in scalding hot soapy water, I waited in the hallway for McKenna in the hallway. While she washed up, I called home to check on my brothers and let them know I wouldn’t be home for a while. When she emerged, McKenna had secured her hair in a neat braid hanging over her shoulder. How she could look pretty after the day we’d had, I had no idea.

  Her eyes met mine and she tipped her head shyly. I needed to be careful about how I looked at her. I was watching her like I wanted to eat her alive. Hell, I wasn’t opposed to it.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as I led her out into the fading sunlight.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Knox

  I held open the door for McKenna and we entered the small diner just blocks from the shelter. It was already after four, and after skipping breakfast and lunch, I was starving. Of course when I’d set out this morning to find McKenna, I hadn’t known I was signing up for an all-day volunteer activity.

  I asked the hostess for a table for two and noticed her gaze flicker between me and McKenna. Did she think we were here on a date? Shit, were we on a date? I never did things like this—take a girl out to eat. Even if it was just to a crappy diner. I hadn’t done anything like this in years. Mostly because of the boys. I felt only mildly guilty about not being home when they got home from school. Something told me they’d approve of my being with McKenna, though.

  McKenna surprised me by asking for a box of crayons at the hostess station. Then we slid into a squeaky leather booth and McKenna accepted her menu, smiling at me.

  “What?” I asked.

 
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