A/n: Not Edited

Chapter 8 - The Past That Keeps On Coming, Twice (Kaden POV)

After the first date I had with Etta, I built a careful routine, one that made sure history wouldn't repeat itself. Sharing different pieces of my life with Etta, things that I had never once felt I needed to give to my family back home. The things I kept hidden, locked away inside my head, and continued to play the roll of son and brother all while sticking to what I knew.

What was comfortable to me.

Etta was a fairly open book as well, however I was beginning to notice a few things that really didn't add up. After three weeks it was of course still new, and I really wanted to spend much more time with her, but we'd hit the same roadblock. Her kids. We hadn't said or declared just what type of relationship this was, I had held her hand, wrapped my arms around her body, but we hadn't done more than that. I wasn't going to push.

I had plenty of playmates over the years to know that this was different; I craved to be with Etta in so many ways other than sexually.

There were times, sometimes where I would see her face, and over this short time, I could almost - it was as though I had, had Etta in my life previously and just couldn't remember. With the experimenting that the Elders had done on me, I was missing gaps of time, but I couldn't see just when or how Etta and I would've crossed paths.

Things just weren't adding up and while I wanted to ask her straight out, I hadn't. It was a double-ended sword in my own opinion. I felt it, when she spoke, little by little, after time; it was like she was talking about me to me. I didn't know, but it was all going to come to a head, everything was going to come back to me - the past was going to catch up.

Hopping from my boat, I docked and went up to Johns house, entering and heading to his kitchen sitting as he cooked, "You eating?" he asked not bothering to turn around at all, "Or you meeting up with Tink?"

Snorting at that ridiculous name, I answered, "Yeah, I could eat."

Tapping my fingers against the countertop I tried to think of reasons why Etta hadn't let me meet her children, why we were always at my island on walking around town, but not really including her children.

"John..." I started off, knowing he wouldn't bullshit me.

"I haven't met Etta's sister or her children," he glanced at me over his shoulder, turning back to the stove.

"That's not a question, Kaden."

I nodded, "Is - that's - I mean if she was serious about me... about us... that I'm her mate, she would let me meet them, right?" he didn't answer right away only sighing.

"When you look at her what do you see?" he asks instead of answering my question.

Puffing out a few sighs, I took his question seriously, John always had a reason for the things he said or asked. I tried what he said to do... closing my eyes I tried do what I had been doing since I met Elizabetta, but thinking of her, trying to place her in my life before I had come to the island seemed impossible, trying to reach to those memories that were just gone only made me grab my head in pain.

Groaning I pulled away, not trying to force myself to remember that time, "I - I have that missing time John, and I just can't - I-" he turned off the stove coming to my side, a disapproving look on his face.

"I told you not to force it," he muttered. I didn't even try to nod, knowing it would physically hurt me, "I just-"

"We decided Kaden, when you lose pieces, you let them come back to you on your own, we don't want to risk trauma," he said with utter compassion.

Yet the way he said it, I knew.

I couldn't remember Etta in my past, but somehow, with his words and that feeling in my gut, I knew she and I had crossed paths before. The looks in her eyes when she gazed at me, that longing, her butterscotch eyes pleading with me and while I had thought it was her way of asking me not to hurt her, now though, it's her way of begging me to remember.

Fanning John away, I released my head when the pain I felt lanced and then faded away, the conversation we were having long forgotten we eat our lunch in peace and I shy away from the memories I just couldn't grab and reveal.

When I had first lost my memory, John had told me explained that sometimes, the moments that had hit me the hardest, were the ones I couldn't remember, it was my inner conscious knowing that it was much too much to handle. Then two years ago, it happened again, losing pieces...

.

.

.

Waiting for Etta at the dock, my cellphone buzzed, taking it out I instantly recognized the number, "Reese Morgan," I answered.

"Hey Boss, these contractors here we're having a tough time settling numbers," my foreman Walker Manning said, "I'm thinking you might need to come out here and handle this first hand because apparently I'm not you," he said sarcastically. "I'm not sure that-"

"Mr. Kaden," Etta called me from the dock, my head snapping to hers, I reply distract, "Walker I'll try to take a trip out there soon, for a few days so we meet project deadlines," I didn't bother to listen to whatever he had to say after that, ending the call, so I could help Etta onto the boat.

Cupping her cheek, I rubbed my thumb, over her face, gazing deep into her eyes, how could I ever forget someone so lovely, I questioned myself. The nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach curling in on itself, if she was a part of my past, especially the parts I couldn't remember... it could only mean one thing. Something deeply painful occurred, something I was determined to prevent myself from remembering, or facing. It was the only thing that made sense.

Which then led me to wonder what I had done to hurt her, because without her saying a thing, I knew that there was no way I treated her like I probably should have. Did I break her heart? Did I fail her in some way? Or was it the other way around entirely?

"How was your day?" she asked waiting for a reply while I just stared at her stupidly which had become a normal thing when I was with her. It was hardly her fault though; everything she did seemed to enamor me, to the point of dumbfounded silence.

After taking much longer than necessary to reply to her question a frown donned on her face, not wanting to cause her any worry, "I'm okay... spent some time with John, graded some projects, basically tried to keep myself busy while I counted down the time until I'd get to see you," I blurted out, leaving cool, calm and collected behind.

I don't bring myself to regret very much, not as I thought I would when her smile grew, and her eyes flickered to my lips then back to my eyes. I didn't - hadn't wanted to move fast, rushing everything and missing out on all the good things I had witnessed between mates as a young boy. Etta was my new beginning and I had been deprived of that - all of it.

But right now, goddamnit, I wanted to feel her lips on mine, to taste her, lowering my forehead to hers, I searched for the truth, looking past everything, reaching inside her, for my answers, for a place to put my heart. The home it had wanted when I was a boy rejected it, but now, in front of me, someone else wanted to welcome it home.

Bring my hand up I let it trail, barely touching Etta, until my hand curled around her neck, into her hair, tilting her head back, sighing, lowering my head, eyes closed lowering my lips to hers, I wanted a taste.

Just a bit.

And when she molds hers to mine, just a bit isn't enough anymore. Not at all, my chest racing, a feeling unlike anything I had felt before, a hunger that she brought out in me, I deepened it. My tip of my tongue swiping across her bottom lip, seeking entrance and my stomach flips pleasantly as soon as she gives it.

Nibbling, softly biting her bottom lip between mine, the jolts of electricity wake me, excite me, control me and my mind begs for more, hungrily demanding, that this never ends.

Gasping we pull away, a content sigh is released, and I'm damn near embarrassing myself with the close to a purring sound that vibrates in my chest.

"Perfect," I whisper breathlessly, and Etta just hums in agreement.

"I want more," the words out but I don't regret them. Her eyes now open cloud over, the lust and want I feel reflected back to me, but there is a sadness that lingers in her eyes, for a moment I see hollowness. She shakes her head regretfully, "You don't know"

"Doesn't matter," I cut her off, knowing she's hiding something.

"Then take it," she whispers back, pushing the emptiness in her eyes away. One hard look, I pull away turning the boat on and speeding along the ocean to my island. Inside and undressed not much long after, my body tingles with anticipation of what's to come, my lips nibbling, licking, feasting on her body. Worshiping every inch - I pause momentarily when I meet a large scar a few inches on her right hip - of her lovely body, skin so softly, her body writhing under me, chest rising, panting as she falls apart, her legs shaking. Knowing she is hiding something, I push that away for another time, instead the two of us loving each other...

.

.

.

Close to morning, we lay side by side, neither of us using our words for a while, my hand can't seem to stay away from her, I continue with small feather like touches on her face, shoulder and hand.

"I need to go away for a while, come with me?" I ask her and wait for her reaction, which doesn't fail me. Her eyes widen, blinking I take it as a good sign she doesn't automatically.

"Go with you?" she finally chokes out.

I nod smiling; "Just for a few days, two at the most, I need to go to New York-" her heart seems to race, stop and skip again at full speed.

There are a few beats of silence as she chews on her bottom lip, her eyes glazed over, "We can bring the kids as well..." I say not minding. I had long come to understand that if we pursued to be more than friends that Etta and those four children would be a packaged deal.

She opens her mouth twice closing it quickly, not saying a word, until her body seems to deflate and release some tension I hadn't picked up on until now.

"If we're only going for a few days... I can take Myles and Vivian but Kiki and Coco, they'd be miserable spending all that time on a plane... I can get John to watch them while we're away," she finally offers with a tad of uncertainty in place.

Leaning forward I kiss her worried brows away.

"You think you can leave in the morning, in about six or seven hours?" I asked once I pull away and she nods. "Where are you going?"

"Well I have a architectural and design company, as Reese, so I just need to hop on over to Manhattan for a few hours, but after that I'd be all yours..."

A bit of that sadness form when we were on the boat returns, "What's wrong?" I ask lifting my hand to flatten away the lines on her forehead.

"I have a house in Scarsdale... well my father did... I never really sold it though."

I blinked, "Oh do you want to go there? We can if you'd like..."

She doesn't answer right away, almost as if she's debating with herself.

"I haven't been there in nearly eight years," she says mournfully but in such a manner that I know she isn't mentioning this to discuss it.

"Whatever you want Etta," I whisper, moving closer to her, wanting no space between us as my eyes and hers begin to droop.

.

.

.

Not wanting to be away from Etta for too long, after speaking to Walker and the contractor, I hop into one of my cars, entering the address she gave me to her place back in Scarsdale on the GPS. It had been nearly ten hours since I had last seen her but after this meeting, I would spend the rest of our time with her.

I couldn't put my finger on it; she seemed to move robotic-like when she, Vivian and Myles boarded my plane. Thankfully she didn't pull away from me, but I could tell that look where she was begging me to remember was back in full force. It was frustrating me to no end.

In the pit of my stomach, for the last four hours I was away from her, I had the most uneasy feeling, my skin felt like a million ants were crawling all over me. The emotion not at all matching what I had been doing that day...

Pulling up to the address she gave me, I drove up the driveway, already with a key I entered the house, a coldness taking over me, heavy weeping sounds coming from the kitchen and Myles walked up to me tears in his eyes, Vivian right behind him, in the same wobbly chin, wet eyes state.

"Mama's crying," Vivian, whispered while Myles nodded in agreement. Going down to their levels, I opened my arms to them, giving them a bit of comfort, before sitting them on the couch and heading to the kitchen to check on Etta. However when I got to the kitchen I note that she isn't there, but in an office off the to the side...

Ransacked, not a single book on the shelf, the table turned over, the room destroyed completely, as Etta sobbed her back to me, shaking.

Artwork that I'm sure once donned the wall were in shreds on the office floor, papers littering every inch of the ground.

"Etta?" she swung her body around to me, her eyes filled with sorrow, defeat and I note that I've never seen her this way. Before I can even form the words to ease whatever is paining her, I'm in front of her, pulling her against me, holding her as she sobs her body going limp in my arms.

"Our - our babies - babies - a live - alive - not gone - dad - saw - alive Kaden - park - saw them - alive - alive - alive - not gone," she cries and I can only pick up certain words.

"I've got you - I've got you Etta, it's okay-"

"No - no - no - alive - I know - them - not dead - dad - he did - this - why -why - human - mine?"

I stop trying to comfort her with words because her responses aren't making sense, I wait until she cries herself to sleep in my arms, before I lift her up, taking her out of this disaster which I sense was her own doing. Covering her, I go down to check on Vivian and Myles, only to find them asleep next to each other on the sofa.

Surprisingly and unexpected the doorbell rings, striding over to the door throwing it open, John is on the other side, sadness in his eyes, but I see the tiredness there as well.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him confused.

"Etta called me," he replies no luggage but a backpack on his back. Just as I am closing the door behind John and I, another car pulls up, and Sean James an FBI contact of ours steps out of the car, running up to the door.

"Thanks for coming," John mutters a bit of anger in his voice that I do not understand, "No problem, I owe you guys," Sean says grimly.

"Okay will someone tell me what the hell is going on right now?" I demand. "I come here to see Etta in the midst of some type of disaster, sobbing and unable to utter any form of intelligible sentence, now the two of you are here?" what the hell was going on?

"I think we should sit," John ignores my question, nodding with his head; he leads us to the kitchen, sitting at the table.

"What - did Etta tell you anything?"

"She was crying, she - the only things I can pick out from the weeping are babies and not dead, she said our babies, and dad as well as human?" I say confused still not understanding.

Nodding John pulled out a piece of paper, two of them. Sighing he puts them on the table pushing them towards me, glancing at him I flick my eyes down to see what he's giving me.

"Death certificates?" I mumble, my eyes widen when I see Etta's name on the paper listed as mother, on both pieces of paper, nearly eight years ago, "I - this would make her around fourteen? Fifth teen? When she had them?"

'Alive - our babies - alive - human - alive.'

'Our babies.'

My head snaps up to look at John, wanting and begging him with my eyes to tell me what I was thinking was wrong here. But he just looks at me with sad eyes, "No," I stand and the back of my chair hits the wall behind me.

'Alive - our babies - alive - human - alive.' The images in the room swirled, and black dots clouded my vision until I succumbed to the darkness.

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Scratch - Kendall Payne >> THIS SONG IS what made me think of this story, like the moment I heard it, the ideas were flowing.

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