Soulmates. (Harry Styles) -completed-

♥-chapter twenty-♥

Dean and Debbie took me home a few days into December. Some early celebrators had already strung up their Christmas lights. Mrs Bailey's house was a blaze of colour, whereas our house was dark, not a candle or a bauble in sight.

Dean opened the door. 'Now you're back, Kenzie, we can get decorating.'

'Shall we go for tasteful Olde England or a brash new world?' asked Debbie cheerfully. 

I played along, knowing they wanted to think I was better than I was. 'If we do, can I have an inflateable Santa hanging out of my window?'

'Absolutely, as long as we can have a flashing reindeer on the roof.'

I spent an hour or so decorating the house with Debbie and Dean before I decided it was time to relax. I went upstairs to my bedroom and dumped my suitcase on the bed. I sat and stared, thinking about everything that was happening. It had been so long since I'd practised shielding that I must've been leaking thoughts and feelings to Harry but he was too kind to tell me. Somehow, I didn't have the energy to pick up where I left off. He told me I'd contacted him while I was being held by my mystery kidnappers, I'd claimed to be in Las Vegas, which he'd found hard to believe until I turned up at the warehouse. He thought  I'd try tell him exactly where I was but missed most of the message. The Styles had acted on what I'd managed to say and travelled to Vegas because the city was Daniel Kane's powerbase - the coincidence was too much to be ignored. They still believed there was a link: Gator, the man who had died in the warehouse, had been employed by  Kane's corporation, but the police had been able to connect the kidnapping back to the head man. 

Ethan was feeling pretty steamed about the whole thing. To add insult to injury, the two Kanes that the Styles had helped put away had slipped out of jail a few weeks ago; no-one's quite sure of how they did it.

'Kenzie, supper's on the table!' Debbie called.

I went down and pretended to have a greater apitite than I actually did. Debbie did my favourite pasta and bought a tub of special ice-cream. We were all making an effort to make the evening a success.

I toyed with the spaghetti. 'Do you think I should go back to school?'

Dean topped up Debbie's glass with wine then poured himself a glass. 'Not just yet, love. Actually, I've ... er ... been wondering.'

'Hmm?' Debbie looked up from hearing a cautious note in his voice.

'I was thinking of moving us to Vegas.'

'What?' gasped Debbie.

'Listen,' he began, 'I was speaking to a kind woman down there today and she wondered if we might consider a new contract advising the art acquisitions made by the hotel chain. It'll last longer than a year and give Kenzie a chance to finish her schooling in one place. She mentioned there were a few excellent high schools in Vegas, even recommended some.' 

Debbie swirled her wine in the glass. 'I don't know, Dean. If we move anywhere, I'd prefer to go back to England. I don't think our American adventure has been a great success. And Vegas - well, the memories aren't pleasant.'

Dean twisted the spaghetti round his fork. 'After the contract is up, we'll be moving back to England. This is just for now. However, I haven't comitted us to anything. She suggested we talked about it, explored the possibilities before rejecting the idea. She invited us down for a weekend - Kenzie too.'

'Kenzie? What do you think?'

I looked up. 'Huh? Oh, I wasn't really listening.'

'Do you want a change from Wrickenridge?'