Reforming Kent: A Stand-Alone Angsty Bad Boy Romance (The Kennedy Boys Book 10)

by Siobhan Davis

  “That wasn’t Rafe,” Mo admits, and I raise an eyebrow. “The Kennedys arranged the security measures. They’re worried about you too.”

  “They’re good people.” This is the first occasion, where I’ve broken up with someone, when I’ve lost more than just the man. Kent’s family welcomed me with open arms, and I’ll miss them too. Selena and Keanu, and Austen and Keaton, have been checking in with me every day by phone. Eva came by a few days ago to tell me Kent is in rehab. He had a breakdown, but they managed to get him into rehab instead of a psychiatric facility, which would have caused problems for his law career.

  She told me to hang in there, that she’s sure he didn’t mean the things he said. I nodded my head and smiled in all the right places, but the truth is, Kent is right. I shouldn’t have flippantly ignored the things Clay was involved in.

  I’m guilty by association.

  I knew he was involved in bad shit, but I had no idea it extended to raping innocent boys. More fissures crack my heart as pain slams into me all over again. I don’t know why I never saw that side to him. Why did Clay protect me when he was out there hurting Kent? And how many others have there been? I’m not naïve enough to think what happened to Kent was a one-off.

  It sickens and upsets me every time I recall the things Kent said. I want to murder Clay with my bare hands for ever laying a finger on the man I love.

  But I’d have to find him first, and he’s in the wind.

  Clay disappeared from the hospital in the early hours of the morning, and no one has seen him since. According to the news, warrants have been issued for several men known to be affiliated with The Vipers. Thankfully, I haven’t seen anything that indicates Kent was arrested for the assault on Clay, but I’ve no idea what is going on behind the scenes.

  A knock sounds on the door. “Presley,” Rafe says through the wood.

  “You can come in,” I call out.

  He opens the door and pokes his head inside. “Hey.” His expression softens when he sees me. “I just wanted to let you know that Keven is here, if you feel up to talking with him.”

  I swing my legs out of the bed, hoping he has an update on Clay and The Vipers. I’m sure the Kennedys have Kent in some high-security facility, but I’m still worried about them going after him. By now, they would know their attempt to murder him failed.

  “Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes,” I say, heading toward my en suite bathroom to freshen up.

  I grab a super quick shower because I’m pretty sure I smell. I twist my wet hair into a messy knot on top of my head before slipping on sweats and an old T-shirt. Sliding my feet into flip-flops, I head downstairs.

  “Presley.” Keven stands when I enter the smaller of the living rooms, walking toward me. He pulls me into a soft hug. “How are you?”

  I shrug casually like my heart isn’t broken in a million pieces and my life isn’t crushingly empty without his brother in it. “I’m hanging in there.” I traipse to the couch, sitting down on one end.

  His eyes rake over me quickly, and he’s no doubt noticing the bruising shadows under my lackluster eyes, my pale complexion, and how my clothes hang a little looser off my limbs. “I’m glad to hear it. You’ve been through a lot. We’re worried about you.”

  “I’m okay. Mo and Rafe have been amazing, and your family has too. Tell your mom thanks for the care package. It was sweet and thoughtful.” I pour lemonade from the glass jug on the coffee table into two glasses, handing one to him.

  “You know you’re not to blame, right?” he says, accepting the drink.

  I shrug because I don’t agree.

  “Presley. Kent didn’t mean those things. He’s traumatized and lashing out at all of us.”

  “You don’t have to explain, Keven. I’m traumatized remembering the things he said, so I can only imagine how difficult it’s been for him, and he’s had to live with this for years.” A sob escapes my lips, and tears stab my eyes. I can’t speak over the messy ball of emotion clogging my throat. The thought of what they did to Kent and what he’s endured in the years since the attack is almost too much to bear. I never thought I could feel this much pain again, but the throbbing, aching torment slaying me on the inside is constant every time I think of what was done to Kent, and my heart bleeds endless rivers.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to upset you.” Keven rubs the back of his neck.

  I hurriedly compose myself because he doesn’t need to worry about me when his focus should be his brother. “How have you been?” I ask. “It’s been hard on everyone.” Especially Keven, because on top of dealing with Kent’s upsetting revelation, which I’m sure has sent his family into a tailspin, he’s working around the clock with his FBI colleagues trying to build a case against Clay and The Vipers, as well as trying to locate them.

  “We feel huge guilt,” he admits, staring off into space as he sips his lemonade. “We always knew something was troubling Kent, but never in a million years did we imagine it was something like this. We all feel like we’ve failed him.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  He jerks his eyes to mine. “Presley, out of everyone, you were doing the most good. You were helping him to move forward. He was happier than we have seen him in years.”

  “Until my association with the monster who hurt him took all the good away.” It’s just another thing to hate Clay for. He has taken the only good thing I had in my life. Taken the love I shared with Kent and twisted it into something ugly.

  Keven hangs his head because there is no refuting that truth. Even if Kent hadn’t broken down and kicked me to the curb, the demise of our relationship was inevitable. How can you ever come back from something like this? I will always remind him of the man who hurt him, and he will forever remind me of my abject failings and my naivete in trusting a man who has no humanity.

  I wonder if I have ever known Clay. Was the boy I knew from my childhood a monster too, or did that side of him only emerge in adulthood? It’s this question, and others, that also keeps me awake at night. I need answers though I don’t know if I will ever get them.

  “You both need time to heal,” Keven adds after a few heavy, silent beats.

  “What was it you came to ask me?” I say because I can’t talk about Kent and all I have lost anymore.

  “My boss has set up a joint task force, and he finally relented and let me help. I’m on a tight leash so my involvement doesn’t jeopardize my brother or the case. The team is building evidence against Clayton, and I’m hoping we can nail that bastard to the wall so no charges are brought against Kent.”

  “They’re planning to charge Kent?” Disbelief threads through my tone. After everything The Vipers have done, you’d think they would let what Kent did go. The assholes tried to murder him, for fuck’s sake, and they almost succeeded. I dig my nails into my thighs, shaking with anger.

  “I hope it won’t come to that, but he’s not in the clear yet. I’ve explained the circumstances, and Sinead and Colin have backed me up. However, one of the women in the bar that night sent the recording to a known associate of The Vipers, so it’s out there. We’re trying to locate it so we can remove all trace of it. But if we can’t—if it surfaces and the public finds out the FBI was aware of it and didn’t take any action—it could jeopardize the entire case.”

  “They can’t charge him, Keven. He wants to be a lawyer so bad.” Now that I’ve had time to think about it, it’s no wonder Kent wants to go into family law. He wants to protect other innocent kids and see justice served in a way he was denied.

  “I’m determined to fix it, but it’s a delicate balancing act. I’m also concerned about the recording The Vipers have of the assault. That needs to be found and contained.”

  “Surely, it would incriminate them if it came out? I thought that’s why they hadn’t released it.”

  “That could be the case, or it’s insurance, and they were keeping it in reserve for the right moment.”

  I lean my head back,
closing my eyes. “Fuck. This is like a never-ending nightmare.” If that tape gets released into the public domain, I don’t know if there will ever be a way for Kent to come back from it.

  I will slaughter Clay and every member of that fucking gang if that tape ever surfaces.

  I don’t care if I have to gun them down in broad daylight.

  I will gladly sacrifice my life to end theirs if they do that to Kent. Hasn’t he fucking suffered enough?

  Kev clears his throat. “It is, and what I have to tell you will only strengthen that sentiment.”

  Reinforcing the crumbling walls around my heart, I brace myself for whatever he’s about to tell me. “Go on.” I drain the rest of my lemonade, ignoring the biting pain tearing at my insides.

  “How much do you remember about growing up in the Cateses’ house?”

  “Most everything because I lived there from the time I was ten until I aged out. Why?”

  “We’ve been talking to some of the other foster boys who lived there at the same time Clayton lived there, and it has uncovered some new lines of inquiry.”

  Anxiety prickles at my skin. “Like what?”

  “Did you ever think it strange that you were the only girl they fostered that entire time?”

  “Strange? Not really. I do remember asking Anna if she could foster another girl so I could have a sister. She told me girls were too much trouble and they preferred less drama.”

  He clasps his hands in front of him, pinning me with somber eyes. “It appears there was a different, more sinister, reason why they always fostered boys.”

  I have an awful feeling I know where this is going. “Like what?”

  “Gerald and Anna Cates were abusing the foster boys in their care. We’ve spoken to several men who have confirmed they were regularly sexually assaulted and raped.”

  “Oh my God!” I place a shaky hand over my mouth. “How did I not know this?”

  “A couple of the men we spoke to remember you and Felicia, the girl who lived with them before you arrived. We’ve checked back through the fostering records, and the Cateses always had a little girl staying with them. Only one girl at a time. The men we talked to believe you were a decoy of sorts. They said you were treated well, and you always had new clothes and shoes, and they paid for lots of afterschool activities. Is that correct?”

  I nod. A sick picture is forming in my mind. “The only time Anna would bake cakes was the day the social workers came to visit. I would help her in the kitchen, and she would let me ice the cupcakes myself. I always had to wear my prettiest dress, and she’d take time with my hair. She encouraged me to talk about my various activities. I did dance and art classes, and I played a variety of sports.”

  “They were putting on a show,” Keven confirms.

  “Why did none of the boys say anything?”

  Shards of pain glimmer in his eyes. “Because they were ashamed. They felt less manly because of the abuse. Some of them were confused about their sexuality. They didn’t just abuse them physically but mentally and emotionally too. And they were afraid of what would become of them. Unfortunately, stories like this are not uncommon in the foster system. There are a lot of good foster homes, a lot of compassionate foster parents, but there are a lot of bad ones too.”

  I blow air out of my mouth. “Kent is right. I’ve been so blind. How was this going on under the same roof and I didn’t see anything?” I stab him with a piercing look. “I thought I was smarter than this. More observant.” I bury my head in my hands, feeling utterly ashamed.

  “Presley.” Keven places his hand on my arm. “Look at me.” I lift my head, barely able to look him in the eye. “You were only a kid, and you’re not at fault. You haven’t done anything wrong either in the Cateses’ house or with Clay. You didn’t know because they manipulated you so you wouldn’t look. The Cateses weren’t just signing you up for activities so it would look good when the social workers came around. It was a way to get you out of the house. A couple of the men also said they saw Anna put sleeping pills in your hot chocolate so you wouldn’t wake during the night when a lot of the abuse went down.”

  That’s why I had difficulty sleeping in the initial months after I aged out and moved out of their home. Because that fucking bitch was drugging me at night. “I’ve been surrounded by monsters most of my life, and I never even knew it.” Is there no end to this horror? Just when I think there couldn’t possibly be anything else, I learn something new. I wrap my arms around myself to ward off a bout of shivers.

  “There is more I need to tell you, and this is going to hurt.” Kev lowers his hand back to his lap.

  I have a feeling what he says next will tip me over the edge, but I won’t shy away from this. I need to understand it all. “Hide nothing, Keven. I need to know everything.” I say it with more confidence than I feel. I honestly don’t know how much more my brain can cope with.

  “We arrested the Cateses three days ago. We have enough evidence and enough witness statements to bury them. They are singing like canaries, trying to deflect blame.” He rubs his thigh, and I know he hates having to be the one to tell me this. “They cherry-picked Clayton to come and live with them. They knew Jeff Rinaldi, and they met Clay through him. Apparently, Jeff was abusing Clay.”

  Bile collects at the back of my throat, and I don’t know how to process that revelation. “Clay was eager to get away from Jeff, so they coached him on how to make it happen. They knew Jeff would put his hands on you, and they had Clay primed and ready to leap to your defense. They were the ones who told him to report Jeff, and they then put in an application to foster both of you.”

  “None of it was real,” I blurt. “Even back then.”

  “Clay helped prepare boys for them,” he adds, gulping visibly. I’m guessing he’s used to hearing all kinds of harrowing shit in his line of work, but knowing this is so close to his brother means this has got to be ten times harder to stomach. “He befriended all the new foster boys and groomed them. He almost made it seem normal. That’s what one of the men told us.”

  I have no words, so I just stare at him blankly, and he continues. “He raped them too, Presley. Clay had stopped being a victim.”

  Daggered pain rips across my chest, making breathing difficult.

  The man I called my brother was an animal who preyed on vulnerable kids.

  And this all went on around me.

  Nausea swims up my throat, and I’m on the verge of throwing up.

  “Chris’s name came up in conversation, Presley,” Keven quietly adds.

  “No!” I burst out crying, already knowing what he’s going to say.

  “They abused Chris too. The Cateses and Clay. Apparently, he was their favorite.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Presley

  “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Keven asks as his colleague Sinead finishes fixing the rhinestone pendant brooch to my jean jacket. Apparently, there’s no such thing as wearing a wire anymore because they have all kinds of miniature digital recording devices. Like the brooch I’m wearing with a recording chip embedded in the middle. All I have to do is press down on it to activate it. “It’s not too late to back out.”

  “I’m not backing out,” I say, smoothing a hand down over my black and red shirt. I’m wearing ripped jeans and sneakers, favoring a comfortable casual style that is my usual daytime summer look, so I don’t tip Clay off. “I haven’t gone to all this trouble, setting this meeting up, to back out now.” It was my suggestion to use me as bait to lure Clay out of hiding. In exchange for me doing this, Keven’s FBI boss has agreed, in writing, that there will be no charges made against Kent. I want to help my ex. Not to assuage my guilt—of which there is a bucketload—because I love him.

  We might not be together anymore, but the way I feel about him hasn’t changed. I will do whatever it takes to protect Kent. Even standing in front of the manipulative bastard who hurt him, pretending to be concerned, if it means I get him to
fess up.

  It wasn’t easy getting a message through to Clay. His phone has been disconnected, so Rafe helped me get the word out on the street. It took two weeks, but eventually, Clay set up a meet and sent word to me.

  “No one would blame you if you did,” Keven says, scrubbing a hand over his five o’clock shadow. He looks tense, which doesn’t help to calm my nerves.

  “Keven.” Sinead squeezes his shoulder. “Presley will be fine. We have a full task force on this, and we’ll have eyes on her from all angles. Nothing is happening to Presley on our watch.”

  I know why he’s concerned. The meeting location has obviously been chosen to avoid surveillance. The warehouse sits on a vacant lot across from an abandoned building in a derelict part of Roxbury. The FBI had men inside the building for the past twenty-four hours, and they will have sniper weapons trained on the heat signatures inside the warehouse once this all goes down. The hidden microphone in my brooch has a unique heat signature so they can tell who I am in case shit hits the fan and they need to open fire. Keven, and a bunch of additional FBI agents, will be waiting around the corner for the signal to move in.

  It’s not ideal, but these men and women are trained for all kinds of situations, and I’m prepared for all eventualities. I’ve got to do something to help. I won’t let Clay and those other bastards go underground. Kent deserves justice and not to be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life. So do the other men who have bravely come forward. And I need to avenge Chris because there is no one else who will care to ensure Clay pays for the torture he inflicted on my ex.