Filed To Story: Kidnapped by My Mate Novel (Belle & Grayson)
He looked down at me. “How’s your head?”
“My head?” Is this his way of avoiding answering my question?
He brushed a hand through the side of my hair. “Yeah. Does it hurt?”
I thought about it. There was a small thrum of discomfort at the base of my skull, but I hadn’t even noticed it until he’d asked. It was nothing serious. “I feel fine.”
“Good. That’s good.” Ace exhaled softly. “You’ll be late for class if you don’t go now.”
I veered back, shocked by his obvious attempt to dismiss me. “Oh,” I responded meekly. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“I’m going to stay and talk with Clara for a bit,” he continued. “You go ahead.”
“You’re not coming with me?”
He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’ll meet you there in a little bit, okay?”
That made two days in a row that he’d missed class without explanation. I glanced back at Clara who had taken a few steps away to give us some privacy.
“O-okay.” I took a few slow steps away, hoping Ace would realize he didn’t want me to go and pull me back.
He didn’t.
“It was nice meeting you, Dorothy,” Clara called after me.
I nodded. “Yeah, you too.”
My eyes strayed one last time to Ace. He didn’t meet my gaze.
All his attention was set on Clara.
“Dorothy!” my mom called out. “The timer!”
My mind was elsewhere.
After abandoning me in the hallway earlier to talk to the extremely gorgeous, practically perfect new girl, Ace never came back to class. The only explanation I got from him was a simple text.
Ace
Something came up so I won’t be in class for the rest of the day.
Stay at school and don’t leave without letting me know. Madoc is going to give you a ride home.
“Oh, shoot! Sorry.” I had been so lost in thought that I didn’t even hear the incessant beeping of the oven timer going off.
No more distractions, I thought. ~If Ace can be without me, I can be without Ace.~ I put my phone on silent and rushed to grab the oven mitts.
My mom walked into the kitchen carrying a brown paper bag full of ingredients for the frosting we were planning to make.
As it was going to be a rare night without Ace or Marta, we decided to spend the night baking cupcakes and watching movies together.
Although I would’ve preferred to be with Ace, I was still happy to hang out with my mom. Unlike many teenagers, I loved being around my mom and cherished any time we got to spend together.
In fact, I loved being around all my family members, even my stepdad, Joe.
My mom met Joe only a week after we moved here from Massachusetts. It was love at first sight, and it was shocking how quickly their relationship progressed after their first encounter.
When I first heard that my mother was divorcing my dad to marry Joe, I was livid.
How could I not be? My mom gave up my father to be with a stranger whom she had only known for a month.
But over the years, I came to wonder why it hadn’t happened sooner.
Mitchell had always been a cold, distant workaholic. I yearned for his attention throughout my childhood, but he was never around to give it to me.
My mom often fought with him, especially when he came home at three a.m., smelling of beer and cheap cigars. Their screaming kept me awake, and I’d lie in my bed as tears of worry wet my cheeks.
When we moved to Embermoon, Mitchell became even more distant. He barely spent any time here, always finding reasons to go back to Massachusetts.
One day, he never returned at all.
I tried to stay in touch with him after he left us. At first, he’d insisted on weekly, if not daily, phone calls. It’s probably why I thought he was the one trying to keep the family together.
But those soon dwindled. And although he visited a few times a year, he never stayed for long.
Mitchell didn’t get along with Joe, he could barely look my mother in the eye, and he couldn’t stand Ace for whatever reason.
And perhaps unsurprisingly, he acted indifferent, if not contemptuous, toward my half siblings.
All of this bothered me, but I couldn’t necessarily blame him. I could only imagine how hard it was for him to see my mom and me living the new lives we’d created for ourselves.
We had a whole new family. One that didn’t include him.
Soon, I stopped hearing from him altogether. I was lucky to receive a text from him on my birthday now. It was like I didn’t matter to him anymore.
I still texted him, of course, and left him voicemails, but I never heard back. It had been almost three years since I last spoke to him.
Mitchell’s abandonment hurt. It was a huge source of torment for me throughout my childhood. I was almost eighteen now but still thought about it often, wondering what I could’ve done differently.
What did I do to make him stop loving me?
Thank goodness for Joe. I would have been a huge wreck if it weren’t for my stepdad.
He was scary at first. Joe was a beast of a man—huge, muscular, and extremely intimidating to anyone who didn’t know him, kind of like Ace.
But even though it took me a little while to warm up to him, I soon considered him to be my real dad. He was there for every soccer game, dance recital, birthday, and first day of school.
He taught me how to ride a bike and saw me lose my first tooth. He celebrated with me on my good days and comforted me on the bad ones.
Most of all, he never made me beg for his attention like Mitchell did, and he loved me as if I were his own.
If I were to get married tomorrow, Joe would be the one I’d ask to walk me down the aisle.
I started calling Joe ‘Dad’ when I was only seven years old. At fifteen, I changed my last name from Cooper to Kennicott so I could share the same name as him and the rest of my family.
I was going to have him legally adopt me, too, but Mitchell refused to sign the paperwork.
Together, my mom and Joe were the best parents a girl could dream of. They were so happy together.
They had only known each other for a few months before Mom got pregnant with Thomas and Elliot. Soon after came Easton. Then Everett, Griffin, Felix, and Wes, in that order.
Yep, that’s right. It was just me on my own for so many years, then suddenly, seven younger siblings, all of them boys. Our house was in a constant state of chaos.
But I wouldn’t trade it for the world—even if having snot-filled, overactive little boys running around all the time made for an anything-but-peaceful home life.
Our family was big and loud and perfect.
Everyone considered Ace a part of our family, too, mostly because he spent more time at ours than he did at his own home.