Keeping Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 3)

Home > Other > Keeping Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 3) > Page 2
Keeping Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 3) Page 2

by Siobhan Davis


  The gates slowly part. “Because of my brother?” Kal inquires, edging the car forward.

  I shake my head. “Because of my mum and dad.” Based on what I read in my mum’s letter, my bio dad was her one true love. But then she met my dad, the one who raised me, the only dad I’ve ever known, and they shared a different kind of love. A love built from friendship, on the foundation of honesty, and they were a real partnership. They adored each other, and me, so now I’m thinking my dad-dad, was her one true love. Not Adam. Not the guy she created me with. Which debunks every theory I’ve ever had about love.

  Kal glides the car out of the drive, turning left, and I gawp at the man staring back at me through the lowered window of the silver car parked outside our house. “Stop!” I beseech Kal. “Pull over a sec.”

  I have the door open before Kal has even brought the car to a complete stop. I fly across the road, slamming to a halt in front of his car. His startled expression no doubt matches my own. I’ve asked my uncle about him on several occasions, but he always gives me the brush-off. And now Mark’s here. Right on my doorstep. “Are you okay?” I ask as my eyes roam over him. I detect no injuries of any kind. No permanent markers from his fight with David.

  “I’m fine, Faye.” His voice wobbles a little. “And I think that’s my line. Are you okay?”

  I nod. “I’m good. All healed.” On the outside at least. “Thanks to you.”

  “Thank God.” He smiles up at me, a relieved, warm, genuine smile that touches his eyes.

  Kal places his hand on my lower back the second he reaches my side. My gaze bounces from him to Mark. “Mark, this is my cousin Kalvin. Kal, this is the man who saved me the night of the attack.”

  “What are you doing here?” he asks in a clipped, suspicious tone of voice.

  “Kal!” I hiss, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “You’re being rude.”

  His eyes blink excessively as he stares at me in bewilderment. “He’s parked outside our house like a creeper and I’m being rude?”

  Okay, he’s got a point, but still. “He. Saved. Me.”

  “And I’m very grateful to you for that,” Kal says, focusing his attention on Mark who has since climbed out of his car. “But it doesn’t explain what you’re doing outside our house in the pitch dark.”

  “Nor why you two are going somewhere in the dead of night,” Mark throws back.

  Kal and I trade glances. “Don’t try to deflect,” Kal replies. “Answer me or I’m calling my dad.” He takes his phone out, his finger hovering over the keypad.

  Mark rubs the side of his face, looking conflicted.

  “Mark?” My eyes pin him in place, asking an unspoken question.

  His eyes shutter momentarily. He takes a step toward me, but Kal holds up a hand to halt him. “Stay right there, buddy.”

  “I didn’t want to do it like this. I wasn’t expecting you to come out and see me. I …” He trails off, looking away.

  “He’s a freak,” Kal mouths at me, and I scowl, shaking my head, denying it. No one who wades in to help a stranger fight off an attacker is a freak.

  A freaking saint more like.

  Mark lifts his head up, and I’m shocked to see the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes. There is something so familiar about the look that it raises all the tiny hairs on the back of my neck. I lean in, studying his face, examining his wide blue eyes as if I’m properly seeing them for the first time. He runs a shaky hand through his thick, dark hair, and all the puzzle pieces slot into place. A manic fluttery feeling starts building in my chest, and I sway on my feet a little.

  “My name isn’t Mark,” he admits, not taking his eyes off my face. “It’s—”

  “Adam!” I blurt out, mentally kicking myself for not figuring it out sooner.

  His eyes fill with tears, and I grab a handful of Kal’s shirt, clinging to him for dear life.

  “Yes,” he says, nodding as he takes a step closer. “I’m Adam. I’m your father.”

  Chapter Two

  Faye

  Blood thrums through my veins as I stare at Mark—Adam.

  My dad.

  My chest inflates and deflates in perfect sequence, and I can scarcely breathe over the messy lump of emotion in my throat. I can’t find any words, and even if I could, I doubt I could articulate them. I can only stare, dumbfounded, at the man I thought was snooping around because he was a reporter. But he was asking for me, taking my picture, because he is my father. Kal is tugging on my arm, whispering frantically in my ear, but the words don’t penetrate. I think I’ve gone into shock or something.

  Adam’s face softens as he closes the small gap between us. “Faye.” His voice is full of concern. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

  “I …” I don’t know what to say. What to think.

  “I didn’t want to just spring this on you. I’ll go if you think it’s best.”

  “No!” The word flies out of my mouth with urgency as the gate opens behind us. A wide beam of luminous light throws us into focus, and we squint as one. A car door opens and closes with a heavy thud. Then James appears in front of us, advancing in long strides with a look of thunder on his face.

  “Fuckitty fuck,” Kal murmurs.

  “What the hell is going on here?” James roars, glaring at Adam. “You two”—he jabs his finger at Kal and me—“get in the house now. I’ll deal with this.”

  “No.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I want to speak to my …” I peek up at Adam, and his tender gaze almost undoes me. “I want to speak to Adam,” I add quietly.

  James gently takes my elbow, pulling me off to the side. “Are you sure, sweetheart? You don’t have to do this, or even do this now. We can arrange a proper time for you two to meet.”

  I hold my chin up. “I’m sure.” I nod. “Could we … I mean, would it be okay to talk in the house?”

  He reels me into a hug. “Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you need.”

  I step out of his embrace. “Thank you.” I turn to Adam. “We can talk in the house, if you like?”

  “Great. Would you like to ride with me?” Adam asks.

  I shuffle anxiously on my feet. “I’ll go with Kal and meet you up there.”

  “I’m only allowing this because it’s what Faye wants,” James remarks, in a cold, harsh tone I’ve rarely heard him use. “But if you put one foot out of line, if you do anything to hurt her, I’ll have you on your ass and out in the cold in a heartbeat.”

  “She’s my daughter. The last thing I want to do is hurt her. I just want the chance to get to know her.” Sincerity underlines his tone, and I assume that’s why James lets it drop.

  The three cars maneuver up the driveway, one after the other. Kal keeps a grip on my hand the whole way. He parks the car alongside Adam’s and kills the engine. “You want me with you?”

  “Yeah. That okay?” I chew on the inside of my cheek.

  “Of course. I’m always here for you. You know that.”

  I twist in my seat, the leather squelching with the movement. “What about Ky? Maybe you should go to Harvard and find out the score.”

  “That can wait. I’m not leaving you, and that’s what Ky would want. Besides, I doubt I’ll get past Dad a second time tonight.”

  Alex opens the front door with a startled expression. She’s dressed in pajamas and a dressing gown, and she’s clutching an obligatory glass of wine in one hand. Adam frowns. “What’s going on?” she asks. “James?”

  “Get back in the house, Alex,” he snaps. “I’ve got this.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do in my own house!” she hisses.

  “I guess the divorce is definitely back on,” Kal mumbles unhappily.

  Alex walks out, greeting Adam with an outstretched hand. “Alexandra Kennedy.”

  “Adam Ryan.” My father shakes he
r hand, offering her a small smile.

  “You’re Faye’s father.” Alex gives him the once-over. “She has your smile.”

  My legs have turned to jelly, and I lean against Kal.

  “Let’s take this inside,” James suggests from the open doorway, ushering us indoors.

  We retreat to the main living room, and Alex goes to the kitchen to make Adam some coffee. James fixes himself a whiskey while the rest of us take seats. “Would you like one, Faye?” he asks.

  “She’s seventeen,” Adam pipes up before I’ve had time to reply. “You shouldn’t be offering her whiskey.”

  “Don’t.” My gaze vaults between both of them. “Let’s not turn this into an argument. God knows I’ve had enough of them to last a lifetime lately.”

  Adam’s disapproving frown deepens, but he doesn’t say anything.

  James plants a gentle hand on my shoulder. “How about a coffee then? I’ll ask Alex to fix another one for you.”

  I clasp his hand as I smile gratefully at him. “That’d be great, thank you.”

  Tension is palpable in the room as he walks toward the kitchen. I fidget with my hands in my lap, sitting stiffly on the couch beside my cousin. I lift my head and eyeball Adam. “When did you find out about me?”

  “Seven weeks ago.” He cricks his neck from side to side. “I received a letter from your mother, completely out of the blue.” His eyes soften. “I’m sorry for your loss, and I can’t imagine how difficult these last few months must have been. You must miss home.”

  “I do, but I’m doing okay, all things considered. I like it here, and my cousins and my aunt and uncle have made me feel very much at home.”

  Alex appears in the room, holding two coffees. “She’s like the daughter I never had,” she admits, handing Adam his coffee. “And she’s been such a good influence on our sons.”

  James perches on the edge of the sofa, by my side. “This is her home. She won’t be leaving it,” he growls, and I’m sensing he’s been holding out on me.

  Adam takes a sip of his coffee before responding. “There’s no need to get ahead of ourselves, and I would never ask Faye to do anything she didn’t want to do. All I’m asking is a chance to get to know the daughter I never knew I had.” His voice cracks at the end, and his eyes turn glassy.

  I stand up, facing James. “I’d like to speak to Adam alone. Could you give us a few minutes?”

  “That’s no problem, honey,” Alex rushes to reassure me, cautioning James with a sharp look.

  James isn’t happy about this, I can tell, but he acquiesces with a nod. “Fine. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He shoots one final glare at Adam before exiting behind Alex.

  Kal gets up but I shake my head. “Can you stay?” My entire body is wrung tight, and I’m trembling all over. I need his presence to ground me. I only asked Alex and James to leave because it isn’t fair to Adam to have such a hostile audience, and with relations between the two of them right now, I can’t guarantee it won’t descend into a screaming match.

  “What did my mum tell you in her letter,” I ask, sitting back down. I curl both hands around the coffee cup, welcoming the heat as it warms my numb fingers.

  “She told me the truth about her and—”

  I spit coffee all over myself and the floor. Kal jumps up, dabbing at a couple of wet patches on his jeans. He frowns in confusion. “What the hell?”

  “Went down the wrong way,” I lie. “Would you mind getting me a towel from my room and grab me some pajama bottoms?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Adam waits until he leaves the room. “He doesn’t know about his father and your mother,” he correctly surmises.

  “No, and I don’t want him to know either. He’s been through enough lately.”

  “I understand. I was following coverage of his arrest and trial.” A layer of unhappiness washes over his features, but he quickly disguises it. “It must have been a stressful time for everyone.”

  “It was.” I nibble on my lower lip. “So, what else did she say in the letter?” I deliberately refocus the conversation where I need it to go.

  “She told me what happened with James”—a look of utter distaste is etched across his handsome face—“and how worried she was when she discovered she was pregnant and she’d didn’t know who the father was.” He sighs, smoothing a hand over his clean-shaven chin. “I understand why she didn’t come to me back then, although I wish she had. I’d like to think I would’ve understood and found a way to help her. I most definitely wouldn’t have let her deal with it by herself.”

  Getting up, he asks, “May I?” pointing at the space on the couch that Kal just vacated.

  Butterflies lurch from my chest into my throat as I bob my head. Adam sits down beside me, angling his body so we’re face to face. “I understand her reaction at the time, and I can forgive her. She was a little younger than you are now, and it was a lot to deal with on her own. But, I’m not going to lie to you, Faye, I’m struggling to accept the fact she was sleeping with her own brother the same time she was sleeping with me.” His face turns a sickly green color.

  “I know,” I whisper, knotting my hands in my lap. “It was a shock to me, too, and it’s something I’m trying very hard not to think about. If I could erase that knowledge from my brain, I would.” I lift my chin, staring directly into his face. “But I can’t, so what’s the point in dwelling on it? It happened, and no matter what you or I or anyone else thinks, it’s in the past. There isn’t anything we can do about it except accept it and move on.”

  “That’s a very mature way of looking at it.” His broad smile is genuine. I shrug. It’s not like I’m looking for brownie points or a gold medal or something. I just want to find a way of moving forward with my life.

  “I think I need to take a leaf out of your book, but I’m not sure I can.” His smile fades a little. “I want to be honest with you, Faye.”

  “I’d prefer that.”

  He nods. “Having you under James’s roof makes me dreadfully uncomfortable.”

  My eyes spread wide. “What?” I splutter. “You don’t think …” I can’t even articulate the thought.

  He shrugs unapologetically. “His moral compass is clearly lacking. Surely you can’t fault me for worrying about that?”

  My spine stiffens. “James would never hurt me, and if I’m not concerned about that, then you shouldn’t be either. Besides, it’s not like you can do anything about it. He’s my guardian, not you.” My tone is deliberately harsh. If he’s suggesting he plans to uproot me again, he has another thing coming. I dig my nails into my thighs as anger and frustration threaten to burst to the surface.

  He opens his mouth and then promptly closes it again. A couple seconds later he speaks. “Okay. That’s gone some way toward reassuring me.”

  A layer of tension flitters away, although I’m still on edge. I don’t really know what Adam wants, and until his agenda is clear, I suppose I should remain on guard. He’s still a complete stranger to me.

  “What about Mum?” I ask. “How do you feel about her now?”

  He ponders my question a minute. “I’m finding it difficult to accept she’s known I was your father for years and she chose not to tell me. I’m very angry with her over that.”

  “Me, too. Although, I know she thought she was doing the best thing.”

  “Yeah.” He sighs deeply. “I don’t doubt that. Saoirse had a big heart.” He scans my face. “You look so much like she did back then. You’re every bit as beautiful as she was.” He grins as I blush, and his hands twitch at his sides. I can tell he wants to reach out, but he’s afraid of startling me. “I couldn’t understand how she just disappeared for no apparent reason. I asked all her friends, but they didn’t have a clue where she was or what happened. I would’ve found James too, but her best friend told me he didn’t know w
here she was either. She broke my heart.”

  “It broke her heart too,” I admit in a whisper, recalling Mum’s words.

  “I never got over her. It seems disrespectful to my ex-wife to admit it, and I don’t mean it to come across like that, but your mum was the love of my life. The minute I met her I knew she was the one for me.”

  Something strange occurs to me as I listen to him speaking. “Why don’t you sound Irish?”

  His lips curve into another smile. “I’ve lived in the States since I was twenty-one. My wife is American, and I moved over here after I graduated from Trinity to work for her father’s company. I rose through the ranks quite quickly and had a senior management role within a couple of years. It was thought, by the powers that be, that I would fit in better and present more professionally in front of our clients if I didn’t sound so Irish. I had a personal voice coach for years. My mother hates my accent now, and I always make an extra effort to sound ‘Irish’ when I visit the folks back home.”

  I gulp. “Your … your parents are still alive? I have grandparents?” My dad’s parents—Michael’s parents—both died within a year of each other when I was three. My memories of them are fleeting. And Mum’s parents died in a house fire when she was a teenager, so I’ve never known what it’s like to have grandparents.

  “Yes. My parents had children at a relatively young age, and they are both only in their mid-sixties now. They are dying to meet you.”

  Air knocks out of my lungs. “They know about me?”

  His eyes crinkle with his smile. “Yes, they do. I phoned and told them after I met you that first time. I had to see you with my own eyes. To know it was the truth before I broke the news to them.”

  “You didn’t say anything.” I wet my dry lips, thinking back to our first conversation in the diner. “Why?”

  “Your mother asked me to let you make that call, and I was trying to respect her wishes, but it was so bloody hard, especially after what happened in the diner that night.”

 

‹ Prev