Chapter Eight
A week later, Kenzi stepped out of her apartment in slacks, a blouse, and a blazer. Even though she was on her way to do something she normally would have found terrifying, she felt stronger than she had in a long time. She looked around the hallway and was pleased to see it empty. Although she’d hated doing it, she’d let Parker go. She’d given him a great reference and one of her friends had hired him almost instantly, so there was no guilt.
There was also no sign that her brothers had replaced him, likely because they didn’t know he was gone. For the first time in her life, Kenzi’s phone wasn’t ringing with calls from her family. She’d gone to see her parents and apologized because it was what her parents expected. Her mother had asked questions, but Kenzi knew she wasn’t ready to hear the answers. Or, rather, Kenzi wasn’t ready for the fallout yet. She asked her parents to give her time to work out a few things on her own. Although her mother hadn’t been happy when she’d left, they’d come to an understanding of sorts.
Kenzi could think clearer about what she wanted to do once her family was, however temporarily, out of the equation. She contacted a not-for-profit organization that worked to bring speakers to high schools on a variety of social issues. After interviewing her, they thought she would be a perfect fit for their program. They helped her choose the best way to tell her story, light on the details, heavy on how she’d felt and how she’d survived it. Each time she told her story, she felt more empowered, freer. She was ready to share it now with an auditorium of students. At first she’d thought it would only be girls, but the program director had said that boys needed to hear her, too.
The news media hadn’t been invited, which didn’t mean the story wouldn’t get out, but Kenzi was okay with whatever happened. Part of her thought she should have gone to her parents and told them what she was about to do, but this was for her, and they would have to understand that.
There was one person she wanted to tell. She’d wavered back and forth if she should. After all, she hadn’t heard from him again. Still, she had something to say that went beyond the physical attraction between them. From the backseat of a taxi she called Dax.
“Kenzi.”
“Do you have a minute?”
“Always.” He made a sound like he was shuffling something around then said, “What’s up?”
She blurted out that she was speaking at a high school about what had happened to her. She didn’t give herself time to second-guess if she should be telling him. Instead she rushed to the reason she had called. “If I hadn’t met you, I might not have found the courage to do this the right way. I was scared and I was angry, and that muddled my message. I felt out of control because I was out of control. Being honest with you allowed me to be honest with myself. You’re probably praying for the day I stop calling you like this, but I had to tell you thank you. Nothing in my life has changed yet, but I have.” After an awkward silence, Kenzi said, “So, thank you again.”
Dax cleared his throat. “Kenzi, all I did was listen.”
“Exactly,” she said softly. “That’s all I needed. Anyway, I’m sure you’re busy, but I feel really good about what I’m doing today. Really good. And I thought you should know.”
“Do you have anyone going with you?”
Kenzi clutched the phone. He would have gone if she’d asked him to. No matter what happened between them, it was impossible not to fall a little in love with him for that. “Two of my friends are going. Then they’re taking me to lunch.”
“Will you be home after that?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Kenzi expected him to say he wanted to see her or to ask her somewhere, but he didn’t. She held her breath and waited.
“I’m in meetings most of the day, but if you need me, call.”
Kenzi let out a shaky breath. “I’ll be fine. Thanks, Dax.” She hung up before she gave in to the impulse to ask him to come over. They were friends of a sort, and she told herself she’d find a way to be okay with that.
A few minutes later Kenzi was standing at a podium in front of a thousand high school students. The room was hushed as they waited for her to speak. Once she started speaking, once her story was out there, there would be no turning back. No more pretending. She remembered the director’s advice to speak slowly and prayed she didn’t hyperventilate. She started to introduce herself, stopped, and took a quick sip of water. Just then she met the eyes of a girl in the first row. She didn’t look bored as some of the others did. She wasn’t secretly texting or whispering something to her friends. She was looking at Kenzi with a kind of sad hopefulness Kenzi recognized. She told her story to that girl, and it flowed out of her more eloquently than she could have ever rehearsed it. She spoke of the shame and fear that had followed. She talked about how long she’d tried to keep it to herself, how she’d tried to convince herself it hadn’t happened. How she’d thought for a long time that telling her story would hurt the people she loved, but what she’d discovered was she’d hurt them anyway because a secret like that slowly destroys a person. Her advice was to not wait in fear until you’re almost thirty. You don’t have to tell everyone; tell one person you trust.
Kenzi thought of Dax when she said that and her voice tightened with emotion. “One good person can change everything.”
Kenzi met the eyes of the girl in the front as she finished her speech. The girl was wiping away tears. Kenzi hoped her message of hope and survival would give her the courage to share her own story, whatever that story was. When she listed off the confidential services that were available through the school, she prayed the girl found her way to one of them.
As Kenzi left the stage, there was a light applause, somewhat forced. Many of the students were already talking to their
friends or texting. Kenzi didn’t care. Her message had been heard by someone who needed to hear it. That was all that mattered.
When the director approached Kenzi and told her she’d done well, Kenzi took her aside and mentioned the girl in the front row. The director nodded sadly and said that she’d noticed her crying, also, and that she’d make sure she connected with a counselor. Kenzi knew well that there was no quick fix, no one thing anyone could say that would right whatever wrong had been done to the girl, but at least now the girl had someone she could talk to. Someone who would hear her the way Dax had heard Kenzi. School budgets had cut many of the counseling services, but the director said she’d follow up with her personally. She asked if Kenzi would speak at another school, and Kenzi agreed to discuss the possibility later in the week. Kenzi wasn’t sure she wanted a public speaking career, but she now saw an area where she could make a difference. For as long as Kenzi could remember, her mother had been hosting fundraisers for a variety of organizations. Kenzi had always looked at them as an excuse for her mother to throw big parties, but it was more powerful than that. Her mother was already making a difference in the world. Kenzi vowed to soon feel the same way about herself.
Lexi and Willa hugged Kenzi as soon as she walked off the stage. “You were amazing,” Willa said.
“You really were,” Lexi added as she pulled her aside. “There’s something you need to know, though. We didn’t tell anyone you’d be here, but—”
“But?” Kenzi asked in a rush. She scanned the back of the auditorium for who she hoped would be there even though it made no sense that he would be. Her stomach did a nervous flip when she saw one of her brothers leaning against the back wall.
