“There is nothing left to be said.” I called her after I talked to Presley, explaining I was dating and reiterating there was nothing between her and me anymore, nor would there ever be. But she wouldn’t be Whitney if she didn’t ignore me and she wasn’t hell-bent on causing trouble.
It’ll be a miracle if we survive this dinner unscathed.
“Trust me, there is plenty.” Her derisory gaze rakes up and down Presley in a blatantly hostile manner.
Presley extends her hand. “I’m Presley. Kent has told me about you. I’m glad to finally meet you.”
Whitney looks at Presley’s hand like it’s diseased. Planting her hands on her hips, she eyeballs my girlfriend with a devilish glint in her eye. “Well, he’s told me nothing about you, and I’ve zero desire to meet you or know you, so let’s quit with the pretense.”
“Oh boy.” Kalvin chuckles, and Lana swats him in the chest.
I lean into Whitney’s face, nostrils flaring. “Don’t fucking lie. I called you and told you I was dating Presley, and if you can’t be civil to her, you and I have a big fucking problem.”
“Oh, whatever.” Whitney throws her hair over her shoulders. “Like I give a fuck.”
“Dinner’s served!” Mom hollers, desperation laced through her tone. She knows, as well as the rest of us, that dinner is now effectively ruined.
“I’m sorry about this,” I whisper to Presley as I lead her into the dining room. “We can still leave.”
“She doesn’t scare me, and I’m not running off.”
I kiss her quick, squeezing her waist. When I turn my head around, Whitney is staring at me with hurt in her eyes. Thank fuck I smoked a joint before I came here and that I have some pills tucked into the back pocket of my pants. I have a feeling I’m going to need them before the day is out.
We take our seats for dinner, and Faye and Kyler sit at the opposite end of the table, meaning Whitney is forced to sit there beside her dad and her sister. However, she’s on the other side of the table, meaning she can still glare at us, and she hasn’t stopped with the poisonous looks from the second we sat down. I try to concentrate on the conversation around us, but it’s awkward because I’m conscious of Whitney slinging daggers at Presley in between guzzling wine. Having Austen and Keaton mooning at one another across the way has my nerves on edge too, and I just wish time would fast-forward so it’s over and we can leave.
“I don’t get it,” Whitney pipes up just as the dinner plates are being cleared away. She’s already slurring her words, which isn’t a good sign. I immediately tense, preparing myself for it. She stares at me, hurt and anger etched upon her face. “She’s not even that pretty, and what lame-ass parents name their kid after Elvis Presley.”
“For your information,” Presley says, eyeballing Whitney. “My parents died in a car crash when I was nine, and Mom called me Presley because she thought the name was pretty. It had nothing to do with Elvis.”
I’m embarrassed I never thought to ask her that, and now my Elvis notes seem corny as fuck, but Pres seems to appreciate them.
“You’re one to talk,” I snap, all out of patience. I take Presley’s hand on top of the table, ensuring Whitney sees me doing it. “Your mom named you after Whitney fucking Houston.”
“What the fuck does she have that I don’t?” Whitney shrieks, standing quickly, knocking her chair over. “I have loved you since I was fourteen, Kent! First, you fuck Keaton’s Melissa, and now you shack up with that gold-digging whore, and I have never done anything to deserve being treated like this!” She stalks toward us, and Adam rises, but Faye stalls him, shaking her head. Faye exchanges a look with Kyler before standing, trailing after her sister.
Tears stream down Whitney’s face as she stands behind Austen and Keaton, staring dejectedly at me. I can’t find it in me to feel compassion, not after she just blabbed about Melissa and insulted my girlfriend again. And I have always, always, been honest and up front with her. She knows it was only ever sex for me because I spelled that out clearly.
“Why are you doing this, Kent? You can’t do this. I won’t let you.” Steely determination ghosts over her eyes.
“I’m fucking blue in the face telling you I don’t have those feelings for you.”
“And you do for her?” she screams, shucking Faye away when she tries to reach for her.
“Yeah, I do.” I’m not going to lie to her face. She’s the one who decided to do this in front of an audience. “It’s serious between Presley and me. Rant and rave all you fucking want, Whit, but we’re done.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter, because you’re stuck with me now, whether you like it or not.” Swiping at her tears, she fixes me with a smug look before curling her lips in Presley’s direction, slanting her with a gloating look that turns the blood in my veins to ice.
Panic presses down on my chest, and I’m almost afraid to ask the question, but if I don’t, someone else will. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
She grins, tilting her head to the side. “I’m pregnant, and it’s yours.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Presley
Initial silence greets Whitney’s declaration, and you could hear a pin drop in the room. Wide-eyed shell-shocked faces stare in our direction, and it appears everyone is dumbstruck.
Inside, I’m slowly disintegrating.
“You’re lying,” Kent hisses.
“I’m not.” Whitney grabs something from the pocket of her jeans, flinging it at Kent. The white and blue stick lands face up in front of us on the table, the word pregnant clearly visible in the digital display. My lungs compress, and my chest heaves. Beside me, Kent is a grenade ready to explode.
He jumps up, straining across the table, glaring at Whitney with his fists clenched at his sides. “All that proves is you let some other dumbass fuck you bare. I always use condoms. Always.” He jabs his finger in her direction. “You’re not pinning this on me,” he seethes.
“There’s been no one but you since that weekend at the beginning of March.” Whitney’s lower lip wobbles, and she bursts out crying. “I’m six weeks pregnant. This baby is yours.”
The pain in my heart is so intense it’s as if a million tiny pinpricks have been pushed into the organ all at once. Eva grabs my hand, squeezing tight, and I look at her, no doubt mirroring the anguish clear in her eyes.
“Bullshit,” Kent roars. “This is fucking bullshit.” He slams his fist down, and the table rattles.
“You fucking asshole! Don’t you dare speak to my daughter like that!” Adam jumps up, racing around the table, his eyes like laser beams shooting fiery rays at Kent as he advances. A muscle pops in Kent’s jaw as he crosses his arms, jutting his chin up defiantly as Adam reaches him.
Adam is fast for an old dude, thrusting his arm out, hitting Kent square on the jaw. Faye screams at her dad to stop, but he’s lost to his anger, raising his fist again. Kent has youth, strength, and rage on his side, and he recovers fast, retaliating with a firm punch to Adam’s nose.
Shouts ring out around the room, and chairs screech as some of the others stand.
Adam roars, briefly touching the blood pumping from his nose, before he fists Kent’s shirt, ready to inflict more damage.
Kaden intervenes, tugging him back while James similarly restrains Kent. Keanu appears at Kent’s side, folding his arms and leveling a glare at Adam. Across the table, Keaton looks upset as his gaze flickers between Whitney, Kent, and me. Austen has his arm around the back of Keaton’s chair, squeezing his shoulder.
A distraught-looking Faye is consoling an upset Whitney, running a hand up and down her back while her sister sobs into her shoulder.
“Get the fuck off me!” Kent roars, wriggling in his dad’s arms.
Keven approaches, planting himself in front of Kent. “You need to calm down.”
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do! This is fucking bullshit, and everyone knows it.”
“For once in your life, man up and accept r
esponsibility for your actions,” Adam yells, still spitting fire.
“Excuse me?” Keanu narrows his eyes at Adam. “Who the hell do you think you are saying that to my brother?”
“Stop this right now.” Alex positions herself in between the men, her gaze bouncing between her son and Whitney and Faye’s father. “I know you’re upset, Adam, but you have no right to hit my son, and if you won’t calm down, you must leave.” She doesn’t wait for his reply, refocusing her attention on Kent. “Please calm down. We need to sit down and discuss this like adults.”
“There is nothing to discuss,” Kent barks. “It’s not fucking mine.”
“Kent.” James levels him with a stern look, refusing to let him go. “That kind of talk isn’t helping, and whether this baby is yours or not doesn’t change the fact Whitney is pregnant and this stress isn’t good for her.”
“Neither is drinking her fucking body weight in wine!” Kent yells. “Or are we just going to pretend she’s not fucking drunk.”
“Stop cursing,” Alex snaps, rubbing her temples. Thank God the kids are outside on the playground with the sitter and not here to witness this. “And stop shouting,” she adds, deliberately lowering her tone.
“Kent is right,” Faye says, holding Whitney by the upper arms, fixing her with an unhappy scowl. “What were you thinking?”
“I’m thinking he knocked me up and now he wants to play happy family with that gold-digging slut!” Her tears miraculously dry up as she sends daggers in my direction.
I want to tell her to fuck off. That I’m no gold digger or slut, but I seal my lips because this isn’t the time or place. Right now, I wish I had a time machine so I could go back to last week and never agree to come here today.
Alex drills a look at Adam, clearly wanting him to intervene, to call his daughter out on her disgusting behavior, but he says nothing. Does nothing, and I have zero respect for the man.
Memories float to the surface of my brain, and I squeeze my eyes shut, begging them to go away. This is too raw. Too real. And I haven’t even told Kent yet.
“There’s only one slut around here, and it’s not Presley,” Kent says, his voice composed but lethal.
Adam roars again, bucking against Kaden as he lunges for Kent, ready to kill him if the expression on his face is any indication.
“Okay. That is enough,” Kyler yells, getting up and stalking toward this end of the table. He stops in front of Whitney. “Grow up and stop acting like a brat. Presley has done nothing to you, and you will not insult her again.” He looks at his wife. “Please take Whitney to the game room. I’ll escort Kent when he’s ready.” He kisses Faye’s temple, and they exchange an intimate look. Faye nods before ushering her sister out of the room but not before Whitney levels me with one final sneer.
“Kent.” Kyler walks around to his brother. “I know you’re pissed, but the only way we’re going to get to the bottom of this is to talk to Whitney. Whether you want to accept it or not, you have been sleeping with that girl for years, and if she says it’s your baby, you need to at least hear what she has to say.”
“It’s not mine,” Kent insists, wresting his arm from his dad’s hand. “It can’t be.”
Kalvin comes around the table to join the rest of his brothers, all of them now protectively flanking Kent. The only one still sitting is Keaton, and I can tell he’s upset by that. He looks conflicted, and I’m guessing that’s down to whatever disagreement exists between him and Kent.
Looking at the wall of men surrounding Kent and their fierce expressions, it’s hard to understand Kent’s comment about being on the fringes. All I see is a family ready to do whatever is necessary to protect one of their own, and I’m glad they have stepped up for him because Kent needs this.
Kyler shoots me an apologetic look before eyeballing his brother. “I know you don’t want it to be yours, but you’ve got to consider the fact that it could be. Unless you’re saying you haven’t had sex with her recently?”
Kent’s jaw flexes, and the skin on his knuckles bleaches white with how tight he’s clenching his fists.
“Kyler is right,” I say, rising to my feet as I attempt to emerge from the numbed wall I’ve retreated behind. “You need to talk to her.”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “It’s not mine, Pres,” he whispers, collapsing against me.
His entire body is a mass of solid stress, and I wrap my arms around him, offering what little comfort I’m capable of offering when I’m shattering on the inside. “Don’t go in there all guns blazing. Just listen to what she has to say,” I suggest.
“Presley is right,” Alex adds in a soft voice. “And there are ways to prove paternity even while the baby is in the womb.”
Adam hisses, and I’m close to swinging my fists at him myself. He’s a fucking asshole for the way he’s treating Kent. I get he’s worried for his daughter, and it’s blatantly obvious he doesn’t like Kent, but throwing shade when he isn’t privy to all the facts is dumb and spiteful.
“I don’t like the insinuation that my daughter is lying.” Adam pulls away from Kaden, removing a handkerchief from his pocket, using it to stem the blood flow trickling from his nose. “I know what you all think of Whitney,” he adds, glancing at everyone around the table. “And I know she’s got her issues, but my daughter would never lie about something like this.” He fixes Kent with the full extent of his hatred, and I hold Kent tighter, instinctively needing to protect him from this. “I have warned you, time and time again, to stay away from her. You have never been any good for her, and I blame you for the way she is. You have selfishly toyed with her feelings with no regard for how it’s destroyed her.”
“You can’t pin that on Kent,” Eva says, working hard to maintain a neutral expression. “He has always been honest with Whitney. You’re being unfair.”
“I think that’s enough, Adam,” James says in a clipped tone. A muscle clenches in his jaw. “There’s little to be gained from assigning blame at this point.”
Adam snorts. “Of course, you’d think that. Like father, like son,” he sneers. I’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but judging by the shocked gasps and furious expressions from the rest of the family, I’m guessing he’s referencing something horrible from the past.
“Okay, Adam.” Kyler grips his father-in-law by the shoulders, looking like he wants to knock some sense into him. “You’re going to shut up now before you say something you can’t ever take back.”
“It’s already too late,” Alex says. Sorrow is etched on her beautiful face as she shakes her head. “We have welcomed you into our home countless times over the years. We considered you a friend, and this is what you really think?”
“I think you’ve forgotten what a delinquent your son is in your haste to paint my daughter as the villain of the story,” he says, clearly unwilling to let go of his anger.
“How dare you!” Alex’s hands shake with rage. “That was in the past, and Kent has worked hard to turn his life around. He’s studying to be a lawyer for Christ’s sake! I won’t have you taking this out on him, and we don’t even know the facts yet.”
“I know a leopard doesn’t change his spots,” Adam growls, and I narrow my eyes to slits as I glare at him. I run my hand up and down Kent’s back in what I hope is a reassuring gesture.
“He was a troubled kid,” Kyler says. “So was Whitney. So were lots of teens, but that has no bearing on this. Think of Faye,” he adds. “Think of how much this is going to hurt her. You need to stop throwing accusations around and just focus on being there for both your daughters. That’s what you should be doing instead of insulting my family.”
Adam wets his lips, and his chest heaves. His shoulders slump, and no one says anything for a few beats.
Kent pulls me around in front of him, pulling me in flush against his chest, and I circle my arms around his back, resting my head on his chest. He holds me close, like he might need my touch to ground him.
“You�
��re right, Kyler. I’m sorry. Forgive me, Alex.” Adam looks at Kent’s mom and then his dad. “I apologize, James.”
James exhales heavily, scrubbing a hand across his chin. “Our kids need us. That’s all that should matter now.”
It hasn’t gone unnoticed that his lackluster apology didn’t extend to Kent. Or that neither Alex or James has accepted it. I’ll be very surprised if their friendship remains intact after this.
“Wow. The world truly has gone to hell in a handbasket,” Kalvin says in a light tone, attempting to break up the tense atmosphere. “This day shall forever be known as the day Kyler Kennedy put the oldies in their corner. Nice one, bro.”
Kyler rolls his eyes. “Shut. Up.” His lips twitch. “Idiot,” he murmurs under his breath, but the hint of a smile has broken through.
“Pres.” Kent brushes my hair off my shoulder. “I’m going to go speak to her, and then we can leave. Okay?”
I nod, plastering a reassuring smile on my face. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine here.” He kisses me softly even though it’ll probably aggravate Adam, but fuck that asshole. He is way out of line. I get he’s upset and worried about his daughter, but that does not give him the right to say and do the things he has said and done. Kent kisses me once more, and I know it’s his way of conveying it’ll be all right, even if we both know that’s not true.
If Whitney is pregnant with Kent’s kid, this will change everything.
Kent exits the living room with Adam, James, Alex, and Kyler, leaving an awkward tension behind. I sit back down beside Eva, wishing the ground would open and swallow me.
“Just another typical family dinner Chez Kennedy,” Keven drawls, leaning back in his chair, his expression devoid of humor.
“We definitely give the Kardashians a run for their money,” Keaton adds. While he sounds casual, he’s wearing a worried frown, and I can tell he’s concerned for his brother.
Reforming Kent: A Stand-Alone Angsty Bad Boy Romance (The Kennedy Boys Book 10) Page 14