Kendall Ryan - When I Surrender

While she’d been wrong about Amanda, she’d been right about me. Even if I wasn’t comfortable with the label, I had a problem with sex. I used girls to escape. I needed the pleasure to numb my feelings of pain and sadness. I just didn’t know if I was capable of changing it.

I tucked a box of cereal under one arm and grabbed a gallon of milk before heading into the dining room. “Come on, Tuck. Breakfast time,” I called to my youngest brother who was stumbling in from the living room sleepy-eyed.  I just needed to get the boys on the bus then I could set out on my mission.

* * *

There was a line out the door and wrapping around the side of the building when I arrived. I took a chance and headed around to the back, hoping to find another entrance. With only an hour to spare before I had to be at work, I couldn’t afford to waste time standing in a line. The heavy steel door at the back of the building was propped open by a large trash can. I was in luck.

I slipped inside, stepping into a huge commercial kitchen. I pulled a white apron over my head from one of the hooks on the wall. Unless I wanted to get thrown out of here before I found her, I needed to look the part. The kitchen bustled with activity – several apron-wearing volunteers were stationed behind a steel countertop, chopping and mixing, and a man with a white chef’s hat was cooking something on an eight-burner gas stove. No sign of McKenna, though.

A dark skinned woman stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Are you cooking or serving today?” She propped a hand on her ample hip, seemingly annoyed by the sight of me.

“Ah, serving,” I said. Since I didn’t see McKenna in the kitchen, I was hoping that meant she was in the dining room.

“Then where are your gloves and hair net?” she questioned, narrowing her eyes.

I glanced around the room and spotted a box of plastic gloves and hairnets on a table behind her. “Sorry.” Shuffling past her, I grabbed my supplies and headed toward the dining hall. Shoving the net over my hair and slipping on the gloves, I searched for McKenna.

I spotted her several yards away filling little plastic cups of orange juice at a banquet table. She was deep in concentration and she’d yet to notice me. A line of tension creased her forehead and she looked tired. When she hadn’t shown up for group on Saturday, I hated thinking it was because I’d driven her away.

She’d once told me that she came to this soup kitchen most mornings to serve breakfast, so I’d taken a chance coming here today. A chance that had paid off. Now I just needed to get her talking to me again. The doors opened and people began lining up with their trays in hand. I stationed myself at the table next to McKenna’s. I felt her eyes on me, but rather than glance her way, I picked up the set of tongs and set an apple on each person’s tray as they passed me.

“What are you doing?” McKenna hissed over at me.

Picking my head up, I glimpsed over at her, flashing a guilty smile. “Oh, hey. I’m just volunteering. You?”

Her eyebrows drew together and she let out a huff, obviously not buying my story. She was angry. Good. At least I was getting a reaction. Indifference would have been worse. Anger I could work with.

“Here you go, Mr. Bronson.” Wiping away the scowl meant only for me, McKenna smiled at the older man in front of her, and placed a cup of orange juice in his trembling hands. We were at the end of the line, and by the time they made their way over to us, their plates were loaded with oatmeal, scrambled eggs, and sausage links. It looked pretty damn good for a free breakfast. It smelled good, too. I would have never imagined there were so many people here in line so early for this. Of course McKenna had known, which was why she donated her time and efforts here. A quick glance at my watch told me I only had forty minutes left before I had to leave for my shift managing the hardware store. I needed to speed this process up.

I didn’t grovel. I didn’t beg, but shit if this girl didn’t make me want to drop to my knees and plead for forgiveness. I must be getting soft. An elderly guy pushing a walker approached my table next. One of the staff members was holding his tray for him. “Apple?” I offered, picking up a fruit with the plastic tongs and holding it out to him.

“With these false teeth?” He smiled, a big gap-toothed grin. “I better not. I’m not feeling real adventurous today. But thanks for asking.”

“Anytime, man.” I set the apple back down on my table, feeling useless once again. “I could always go back to the kitchen, see if we have something else. A banana maybe?” I had no idea what they had back in their kitchen, but I was willing to try. This guy was someone’s grandfather most likely. I didn’t particularly like the idea of him going hungry.

He took my hand and gave it a shake. Misty blue eyes met mine as he grinned at me again. “Bless you for what you’re doing. You’re a good person.”

“Trust me, I’m not. But I’m trying.”

“Ah, what the hell. You only live once, hit me with one of those apples.”

I placed a shiny red apple on his tray and felt McKenna watching. Glancing her way, I knew she’d overheard the entire exchange. I’d meant those words. I wasn’t a good person. But I wanted to be. For her. “We need to talk,” I said, low under my breath.

“Not now,” she breathed, her eyes slipping closed. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. I wouldn’t push her right now, but I didn’t have much time left.

“I have to be at work soon.”

She looked over at me again, confusion marking her features. “You came here before work?”

She knew it was a big deal that I’d taken the time to come here. Good. “Got up early, got the guys off to school, and yeah. I came to see you. You didn’t return my text. I thought you were ignoring me.”

Drawing a deep, but shaky breath, McKenna continued looking straight ahead. “Can we just enjoy this?”

I knew volunteering was important to her and I suddenly realized she thought I was interrupting. “Can we talk later, then?” I asked.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“McKenna?”

“Yeah?” Pretty blue eyes flashed on mine.

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

She set down the cup of juice she was holding with trembling hands. A moment later she disappeared out of the room, treading down a long hallway, and I took off after her.

Shit. She’d agreed to talk later, and yet I kept pushing. But I needed her to believe that. I hadn’t laid a hand on that girl. And after hurting her so badly the last time we were together, my own conscience needed clearing.

I heard soft sobs coming from the women’s restroom and I pushed open the door and entered, securing the lock behind me. The stall door on the end was closed and I could see her gray tennis shoes beneath the opening. “McKenna?”

The cries stopped. “Go away, Knox.”

Fuck. I slumped against the wall, fighting the urge the punch something. “I just needed to see you, make sure you were okay. The way we left things last time….”

“I’m fine, okay. Or at least I was going to be. Being here is my sanctuary, my escape. But now you’ve taken that from me, too.”

She was hiding in the damn bathroom stall because of me. I should have felt sorry I’d come, but I didn’t. I’d needed to see her with my own eyes or I was going to lose it. “When you didn’t show up Saturday, I kind of freaked out. Are you done leading group?” Because of me?

“No, I was at a retreat with counseling seminars all weekend.”

“Can I just tell you one thing?”

She sniffed. “And then we’ll talk about the rest later?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Okay.”

“I never slept with Amanda. Not even close. I have no desire to sleep with her. We exchanged phone numbers because she wanted someone to talk to about raising a baby while recovering from addiction, and I’d told her I have custody of my three brothers. She’s freaked out that she has a baby on the way and wanted someone to talk to.” There was a long pause from McKenna. “Do you believe me?”

“If you weren’t with her, then why did you answer that it’d only been one week since your last sexual encounter? Were you with other girls while we were….” A choked little sob escaped her throat.

“Do you want to know why I said that it’d been one week since my last sexual encounter?”

Silence. She thought she didn’t want to hear this. But she did.

“When I answered that question, it’d been one week since you’d come to me in the night, let me kiss and touch you. And even without sex, that was the most erotic encounter of my life. Touching you over your panties, knowing you trusted me, making you come… that meant everything to me. It wasn’t even about sex. It was about trust. And after that, all other memories of girls I’d been with were wiped from my memory. There was only you. So that’s why I said one week. And no, there’s been no one else since.”

The bathroom door unlatched, and McKenna stepped out slowly. Her eyes were watery and the tip of her nose was pink. She was still the most beautiful girl in the world. She’d pulled off her hair net and gloves at some point, reminding me that I still had mine on. I smiled weakly at her and pulled off the accessories, dropping them into the nearby wastebasket.

Crossing the room toward me, I opened my arms and McKenna folded herself against my chest. I held her and gently swayed with her in my arms. It’d been a tough week for her. Distress was written all over her features and she felt thin and frail. I wanted to take her home and put her in my bed and never let her go again. Instead I continued lightly rubbing her back, letting her calm down and collect herself. I’d wait as long as it took. I no longer cared about getting to work on time. If she needed me, I wasn’t going anywhere.

A few moments later, she lifted her head from my chest and crossed the room to stand in front of the sink, inspecting herself in the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” I murmured. She smirked at her reflection in the mirror. It was the truth. She splashed cool water on her cheeks and I handed her a paper towel. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay. Thanks. And I know you have to get to work.”

“Can we still talk later?”

“There’s more?” she asked, pushing a chunk of hair behind her ear.

“We need to discuss you and me.”

“There’s a you and me?” she breathed.

“You know there is.” My heart thumped steadily in my chest. My relationship with her was the only real thing in my life. Even if it wasn’t a romantic relationship, I needed her presence. My brothers did, too. We’d figure the rest out later. “When are you free?”

“Tomorrow night. I’m attending a fundraiser at the library. It goes until 8:00.”

“Come over after?”

“You’ll be a gentleman?” The hint of a smile played on her full lips.

“If you like.”

She exhaled a deep shuddering breath, like she was summoning her courage. “I’ll come.”

The urge to take her in my arms again was overwhelming, but I resisted it. As difficult as it was for me, I needed to learn to deal with shit without falling back on physical touch. “See you then.”

I took my time getting ready, telling myself I wanted to look nice for the library fundraiser. It was an after-hours event with hor d’oeuvres and wine tasting. I should dress up a little, right? It had nothing to do with seeing Knox after. Yeah, right.

I was still reeling with the emotional turmoil stirred up by being near Knox. Getting away last weekend for the retreat was supposed to bring clarity, but all it did was make me miss him more. And then knowing he planned his work day around seeing me at the soup kitchen yesterday had torn down my final wall. Every time I thought I had Knox figured out, he surprised me and pulled me back in. With him, I knew the road was guaranteed to be bumpy, but at last I was moving forward.

I inspected myself in the mirror one final time. My dark hair fell in loose waves down my back and my fitted black pants and silky gray blouse looked simple, but chic. I puckered my lips in the mirror and added a dab of pink lip gloss. Stop stalling, McKenna. I grabbed my coat and purse and flipped off my bedroom light.

“You look nice,” Brian said as I entered the living area. The football game was playing in the background. I found it sort of oddly endearing how he’d become a hardcore Chicago sports fan, now cheering for every local team. It was just another way he’d changed his life and habits to support me in this move.