Chapter 4
Kim
HEARING SOMEONE KNOCKING on my door, my eyes open and I roll to the side to look at the clock. Seeing it’s not even five in the morning yet, I sit up and put my feet to the floor then hurry out of bed. I only know one person who would show up at my house at this time, and that person is Kelly, and seeing how my last conversation with her ended, I’m not really looking forward to going through that again.
I put on a long sweatshirt over the top of my nightgown and head for the living room, where the morning sun has just started to light the room. Walking toward the sliding glass door, I see it’s not Kelly. It’s two men wearing suits, and they both look like they haven’t slept in hours. I stop in place when they notice me and watch relief flash through their eyes as they hold up black leather wallets, pressing them to the glass. Seeing both of them say FBI, I hurry across the room, flip the latch, and open the door an inch.
“Kimberly Cullen?” the man who is standing closest to where I am asks, studying me.
“Yes.”
“I’m Special Agent Torres, and this is Special Agent Kace. We’re with the FBI,” he says, and my stomach fills with anxiety.
“How can I help you?”
“Can we come in?” Agent Torres asks, and I check them out. They look legit, but I just don’t know.
“We’re here about your sister,” Agent Kace explains, and my eyes move to him.
“What happened?” I question, and I watch both their eyes change in a way that makes my heart feel suddenly heavy. “What happened?” I repeat, pushing the door open to let them inside.
“Do you have someone you can call to come sit with you?” Agent Torres asks, and I shake my head as I walk across the room to stand on the opposite side, away from them.
“It would really be best if you called someone.”
“Just tell me,” I whisper, twisting my hands nervously in front of me.
“Your sister’s been murdered.” My heart stops, and my eyes close as those five words penetrate. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I open my eyes back up, not really seeing anything. “We haven’t been able to find her body at this time, but we have men out looking for her.”
Oh, God. I move to the couch to take a seat, because my legs feel like they are about to give out from under me. Dead? Kelly’s dead? How is that even possible?
“We’re very sorry for your loss, Miss Cullen.”
“How?” I finally get out through the sudden ache in my throat.
“Unfortunately, we can’t discuss that with you at this time, but know we are close to catching her killer.”
“Her killer.” I drop my eyes to my lap. Kelly isn’t just dead; she was murdered. Someone killed her. Someone took her life. “Will I know when you find the person who did this?” I ask, lifting my eyes to look at the two men who have now moved closer to where I’m sitting.
“We will make sure you are given the news as soon as we apprehend him.”
“You already have a suspect?” I ask to confirm, needing that information more than my next breath.
“Yes,” Agent Torres states, and I drop my eyes to my lap and pull in a few deep breaths, trying to get myself under control.
Nodding, I lift my head then shake it. “Does… does her mom know?” I ask, and they both look at me with confused expressions. “I… I was a-adopted when I was born. I… I don’t know my birth mom.”
“We were unaware of that,” Agent Kace says, and I blink up at him in bewilderment.
“How? How did you find me then?” I don’t know my birth mother, but I know she has my number, because Kelly gave it to her along with my address when she first started coming around. She thought her mom—our mom—would want to contact me, which she never did.
“An eyewitness believed she was you,” Agent Torres explains, getting down on his haunches in front of me. “When we went back to examine who our suspect had been in contact with, we found out it was your sister Kelly.”
Pinching my thigh, I try to see if that will wake me up, but it doesn’t. This isn’t a bad dream I’m going to wake up from any second.
“Please call someone and have them come over. You shouldn’t be alone right now, Miss Cullen, and as soon as we are able to give you more information about the case, we will set up a time to meet with you.”
Nodding, because I can’t talk, I reach out to take a card Agent Kace hands me.
“Call someone,” he orders gently, and I nod again. “We’ll be in contact soon.”
Watching them leave with quiet goodbyes, I sit here hearing their words continue to ring in my ears.
“God,” I whimper, dragging my hands down my face and covering my mouth with my shaking fingers. “Oh, God.” Looking around the room, everything blurs together while tears fill my eyes, and bile builds in the back of my throat, making it hard to breathe. Squeezing my tear-filled eyes closed, wetness tracks down my cheeks and onto my chest. I get up on shaky legs and head to my room to grab my phone out of my purse where I left it last night. Pulling it out, I see it’s dead. Finding my charging cord, I fumble with it until I get it plugged in then wait for it to turn on. I have a few voice mails and a lot of texts but I ignore them, pulling up my mom’s phone number in my call log and pressing send.
“Honey,” she answers on the second ring, sounding like I just woke her up.
“Mom,” I choke out through my tears. I wish she were here. I wish she could wrap her arms around me and tell me everything will be all right like she has done since I was little.
“What’s happened? Are you okay?” she questions, sounding more alert than she did moments ago.
“No.” I fall back on my bed and squeeze my eyes closed. “Kelly. Kelly’s dead, Mom,” I get out, right before a loud, painful sob breaks loose.
“What?”
“She was murdered. The FBI was just here. Kelly was murdered.”
“Oh, God,” Mom breathes, then the phone goes quiet before I hear her talking to my dad, but I can’t make out what either of them are saying over the sound of my blood pumping through my ears.
“Baby,” Dad says, and my eyes tighten. “Your mom is booking us a flight right now.”
“Okay.”
“Be strong, honey.”
“Okay,” I agree on a whisper.
“Be there soon. We love you.”
“Love you, too,” I say, right before I let the phone fall from my grasp, and then I roll to my side and curl myself into a ball.
Your sister’s been murdered.
My eyes burn as those words replay over and over in my head while I watch the ceiling fan spin in circles. I should get up. I should go shower and call my parents back so I can tell them they shouldn’t worry about me, but I can’t force myself to move. All I can do is think about Kelly, my identical twin. We shared the same hair, the same face, the same everything, down to the freckles across the bridge of our noses, and yet with all of that in common, I hated the person she was.
Hearing pounding on the door, I try to sit up, but I can’t.
“Kim, open the door.”
Sage. I’d know his voice anywhere.
“Open the goddamn door.” He bangs harder, and a new wave of tears fills my eyes. “Kimberly, if you don’t open the fucking door, I’m gonna break the motherfucker down,” he roars, making me jump.
“I’m fine. Go away.” I attempt to yell back, but the words come out in a whisper through my dry throat as my heavy eyes slide closed and I finally give into the darkness surrounding me.
“Jesus, baby?” I hear growled through my subconscious as warm fingers rest against my neck under my ear. My eyes open slowly and I blink. “Baby,” Sage whispers, taking a seat on my bed next to my hip, pushing my hair away from my face gently.
“Kelly’s dead,” I breathe, staring into his seafoam-green eyes resting softly on my blue ones.
“I know.” He pulls me against his chest and I sob, clinging to him. Climbing into bed with me, his big body curls around mine.
“I told her I hated her,” I say, pressing my face against his chest while my fingers wrap tightly into his shirt. “The last time we talked, I told her she was a coward and that I hated her.”
“She knows you didn’t hate her.”
He’s wrong; she didn’t know. She died not knowing I cared. Not knowing I only wanted her in my life, that I didn’t want to use her, that I didn’t want anything from her but to have her in my life.
“Don’t think about that right now,” he says gently, running his hand down my back. “Don’t think about that. Think about the good times you had together.”
Good times? I wish I did have good times with her. I wish I had a million happy memories of us together that I could recall right now, but I don’t have any of those. Kelly was angry at the world and pissed off at me. She thought I was the one who didn’t want anything to do with her or our mom until I was diagnosed with stage-three kidney disease. Until I was left with no choice but to contact her for help. But that wasn’t the case at all.
When I first found out about Kelly after I was diagnosed, I had been so upset with my parents for keeping the truth about my adoption from me, for never telling me I had a sister. I know they believed they were protecting me, but having grown up my whole life believing one thing, only to learn it was all a lie, was more devastating than finding out my kidneys were failing in the first place.
Even with the knowledge that my mother had been addicted to crack and had been arrested multiple times for prostitution, I still felt it should have been my choice when I turned eighteen whether or not I had any kind of relationship with my birth family. It took a long time for me to understand why they didn’t tell me the truth.
It had been Kelly who had made me understand unknowingly what my parents had been trying to protect me from. They didn’t want me to see the ugly side of drug addiction or feel what neglect was like firsthand. They didn’t want me to experience the disappointment Kelly had experienced her whole life growing up with our mother.
Where I grew up surrounded with love, Kelly grew up fighting just to survive. Our childhoods couldn’t have been more opposite, which made us both different people. Where I have always looked at the world with hope, Kelly looked at the world, wondering when it would knock her back down.
“I should have tried harder,” I whisper through my dry throat as more tears fall.
“Stop.” His lips press to my forehead and he doesn’t remove them. He keeps them right there while he whispers soothingly to me, until my eyes get too heavy to keep open any longer and I fall asleep held tightly in his grasp.
Hearing Sage’s voice and two others that sound like my parents off in the distance talking quietly, I wake slowly, blinking my eyes open. Finding the room dark with the only light coming in from the skylight and the moon overhead, I roll to my side, dislodging the blankets that have been carefully tucked around me.
“God.” I press my hand to my forehead as I sit up. I haven’t eaten today, and after crying for so long, my head is pounding, making me feel nauseous and dizzy. Blinking when the door is cracked open and light spills into the room, I watch Sage’s shadow step inside before he closes the door behind him.
“I thought I heard you get up,” he says quietly as he walks to the bed, taking a seat next to me and flipping on the lamp on the table. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the light, and when they do, I watch him take my hand and place two pills against my palm before grabbing my ever-present water bottle off the bedside table, handing it to me. “Your parents are here.”
“How long have they been here?” I ask, downing the pills before resting my suddenly heavy head against his shoulder and closing my eyes to keep out the light.
“About an hour,” he says as he moves his arms around me and tucks my head under his chin. “They came in to check on you when they arrived but wanted to let you sleep,” he explains, and I nod. “How are you feeling?”
“My head is pounding and I’m hungry,” I answer truthfully, leaving out the part about feeling like a part of me is suddenly missing.
“What do you feel like eating?” he asks, and I feel his chin move against the top of my head.
“Soup.”
“Do you want me to bring it in here to you, or do you feel like getting up?”
“I’ll get up.”
“All right.” He touches his lips to my hair right before he stands us both up. Moving to the door, he stops me with his hand, taking mine, and I turn to look at him.
“Are you okay?” I ask when I see the worried look in his eyes.
“How much do you know about what happened with Kelly?” he asks suddenly, and I frown.
“Two agents from the FBI told me that she was murdered, but they couldn’t tell me much other than that.”
“I thought so.” He shakes his head while running his hand down his mouth in agitation. That’s when I realize there would be no way of him knowing that unless something else happened. I didn’t even think about the fact he had shown up here out of the blue, threatening to break down the door until now.
“What happened?” I ask, feeling my heart start to beat hard against my ribcage.
“Ashlyn was kidnapped in the middle of the night. She and Dillon had both been drugged. Dillon woke up when Ashlyn was being taken, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it from happening, since he had been given some sort of muscle relaxer,” he explains, referring to his cousin, who is my close friend, and her new husband.
“What?” I press my hand to my mouth, and he pulls me against his chest. “Please tell me she’s okay,” I whisper against my fingers as my stomach turns, and a fresh wave of tears begins to fill my eyes.
“She’s fine. She’s in the hospital recovering. She got away, but not before she saw who she thought was you at the time, dead. That’s why the FBI was here this morning,” he says, right before his hand wraps around my jaw and he pulls me back to search my face. Staring blankly at him, his words settle over me, and I watch his eyes close as he shakes his head, muttering a quiet “Fuck.”
“Did she…” My eyes close, and then I open them back up slowly. “Did she talk to Kelly… before?”
“I don’t know, baby.” Dislodging his hand still holding my chin, I drop my forehead to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and I do the only thing I can do, which is nod.
“Honey,” my mom calls as she knocks on my door a second later.
“Mom,” I cry, and Sage releases me. Rushing across the small space to her, I wrap my arms around her waist and tuck my face against her chest, where I start to cry again.
“Oh, honey,” she whispers, holding on to me. Then I feel myself being transferred and I smell the familiar scent of my dad’s cologne as I’m tucked into his chest.
“It’s going to be okay,” he says, rocking me from side-to-side, and I do the only thing I can do once again. I hold on.
Sage
TAKING OFF MY shirt and shoes, I drop my jeans to the floor and grab my sleep pants, putting them on before taking a seat on the edge of the couch. Rubbing my hands down my face, I yawn. It’s been a long few days, and it’s all starting to catch up with me. I rest my elbows on my knees and stare at the floor.
Six days ago, I convinced Kim to come stay with me. Since her parents are in town and she doesn’t have the extra room, she agreed, and since then, I’ve been sleeping on the couch, having given up my room to her and the only other furnished room to her parents.
Sensing movement behind me, I look over my shoulder and watch Kim start toward me. I love everything about having her here, but I wish the circumstances were different.
“You okay?” I ask when she finally makes it across the room and crawls onto my lap. Her parents went to bed about an hour ago, and she had said she was doing the same.
“I can’t sleep,” she whispers, tucking herself closer to my chest, and I lean back against the couch, wrapping my arms around her.
“Are you worried about tomorrow?” I question, and she stiffens slightly before relaxing once more.
“I’m relieved that Kelly will be put to rest,” she replies quietly, and my eyes close as the pain in her voice grates against my skin. Six days ago, the FBI and the police were still looking for Kelly’s body. Three days ago, they found her remains after apprehending the man responsible for Kelly’s murder and my cousin’s abduction. Two days ago, Kelly’s mom called Kim’s phone for the first time, asking Kim to help out with the cremation expenses—meaning she asked Kim to pay for the whole thing.
I found out after that phone call that it was the first time Kim had ever even had a conversation with her birth mom. She hadn’t returned any of Kim’s calls since Kelly’s death, and it wasn’t until she needed money that she reached out. During that call, I could see the hurt and disappointment on her face, but I could also see her strength and resilience as well.
“I don’t even know what I will say to her when I meet her. What was it like when you met your birth mom?” she asks, and my jaw tightens. I told her and her parents one night over dinner about my sister and me being adopted. Kim had already known from our mutual friends about my history, but she had never heard it from me, and I knew it was important to tell her, because it was one more thing that bound us together.
“I never met her. I never wanted to meet her,” I confess, and she pulls back to look at me.
“But Nalia?”
“She flew out on her own to meet her. I never had the urge to connect with Sharon.”
“You weren’t even curious about her?”
“I’ve seen pictures, read about her background. There’s nothing else I want to know.”
“Oh.” She goes quiet for a moment then drops her eyes to her fingers that are twiddling with the cross between my pecs. “I thought when I first found out about my adoption that I was missing out on family.”
“You have a family.”
“I know I have my parents, but I thought I was missing out on having my blood family. When I met Kelly, I learned quickly that I hadn’t missed out on anything,” she whispers, and I know this is something she’s been struggling with the last few days.
She and her sister didn’t have a good relationship, and now that Kelly is gone, she will never have the chance to build one with her. “I know I shouldn’t think it, but I’m grateful that my mom chose to give me up. I don’t know how she chose which one of us she would put up for adoption, but I’m glad it was me,” she says as tears start to fall slowly down her cheeks and onto my abs. “I got lucky. I just wish I could have shown Kelly what love is. I wish I could have convinced her that I cared about her, that I didn’t want to use her, that I didn’t want to hurt her, and that I just wanted her to be in my life. I hate knowing I will never get to do that.”
“Shhhh,” I hush her, tucking her face back against my chest.
“How can I face the woman who made Kelly the person she was, a person who didn’t think she deserved a good life and love?” she begs. Christ, my throat gets tight, and I wrap my hand around her skull as she sobs, wishing I could change that for her and for Kelly, wishing there was something I could do to make this better or easier for her. “I hate her. I know it’s wrong, but I still hate her.”
“You have a right to feel the way you feel about your birth mom. No one understands more than you what Kelly missed out on by growing up the way she did,” I assure, and she nods then wraps her arms around my middle.
“Thank you.”
Kissing the top of her hair, I run my hands soothingly down her back and under the tee she has on then feel her body relax completely against me. Knowing she’s asleep and there isn’t room on the couch for the two of us, I stand with her tucked against me. Seeing her dad looking out through a crack in my guest room door as I head down the hall with her asleep in my arms, I lift my chin and he does the same in return as I move past him.
Kim’s parents both had questions about our relationship when they showed up at her place to find me there, so I explained to them that Kim and I were seeing each other but taking it slow, leaving out the “for now” part of that statement. They don’t need to know the depth of my feelings for their daughter until she knows herself how I feel. I had already known I cared about her before, but when I heard she was dead, my heart stopped beating, making me realize even though we hardly know each other, my heart had at some point claimed her as its own.
Gritting my teeth, I look down at the woman in my arms. It’s too soon for me to make my intentions clear, especially with everything that has happened, but she is mine, and will be until the day I die if I get my way.
Reaching my room, I put my shoulder to the door and push it open before turning slightly to kick it almost closed so the light doesn’t wake her. Heading across the room to the bed, I start to lay her down, only to have her arms shoot out around my neck and tighten.
“Please don’t go. Please stay,” she whispers, and I don’t even have to think about it. I put one knee into the bed and then the other and lay her down on the mattress, settling in behind her. Taking my hand at her waist, she twines our fingers together. “Thank you,” she murmurs, bringing our combined hands up to rest between her breasts.
Kissing the back of her head, I toss my leg over her and pin her to the bed, where I expect to stay awake. But lying here, with the woman I’m pretty sure was made for me in my arms, I fall asleep.