Losing Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 2)

by Siobhan Davis

  “Sorry,” I mumble under my breath, shooting Rose a side look.

  David’s eyes latch on the creature with the boulders for shoulders standing guard outside the door, and I cringe. “Who the hell is that guy?” he asks, his gaze landing instantly on mine.

  I cringe again. “Um, that’s Lenny. My new bodyguard.”

  “He can’t stand there—he’ll scare away all my customers!” His tone is bordering on coronary-inducing territory.

  “Give me two minutes and I’ll sort it.” My feet are already moving in the direction of the door.

  Ten minutes and two arguments later, Lenny is ensconced in the passenger seat of the Merc, scowling at me as he closes the door with unnecessary force. I have an almost overwhelming urge to stick my tongue out at him, but I manage to refrain from indulging in such childish behavior.

  David makes it clear that Lenny is not welcome anywhere near the premises, and I have to promise faithfully that he’ll never darken the door again. I’m hoping after a few shifts when James sees there is no need for him to be here, he’ll allow me go to work without the Hulk watching over me.

  I’m dead on my feet after the first couple of hours, but I plow through. Ignoring the harsh glares and whispered gossip is harder than I thought it’d be, but I do my best. After a while, Rose takes pity on me. “I’ll take your station, and you can man the counter for the rest of the shift if you like?”

  “You’re an angel. Thanks.” I gratefully accept her offer, and it’s a welcome relief to be away from the gossipy bunch out on the floor.

  “You seem to have your hands full tonight,” a smooth male voice says, and I look up from the register, meeting twinkling blue eyes and a firm smile. I’m not sure how long he’s been sitting at the counter, but judging from the menu still in his hands, it can’t be more than a few minutes if he hasn’t ordered yet. He’s in his late thirties or early forties, if I had to hazard a guess, and very attractive for an older dude. He runs a hand through his short, dark hair as his eyes invade mine.

  “It’s always busy in here.” I regard him warily even if my tone is polite. I’m suspicious of every stranger right now. “What can I get you?”

  “What would you recommend?”

  “The Works Burger is good if you’re super hungry. All the salads are tasty, but my favorite is the fish and chips. It reminds me of home.” I don’t know why I said that. There’s something about his warm smile that encourages me to drop my guard. I wipe down the counter and set a fresh placemat and cutlery in front of him.

  “And home is Ireland?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “What gave me away?”

  “I know an Irish accent when I hear one.” He smiles more expansively even though it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

  “No doubt, the longer I’m here, the less I’ll sound like myself,” I muse, thinking of James’s warped half-Irish, half-American twang. I hope I don’t end up sounding like that. Somehow, it seems vitally important that I continue to sound like myself. I catch myself before I fall back into that introspective well, before I admit something I shouldn’t. I’ve never seen this guy in here before and my spidey senses are on high alert. “And now I’m babbling.” I laugh to disguise my suspicion, although, in his snazzy designer suit and with what looks like an expensive watch strapped to his wrist, he seems more like a businessman than a nosy journalist. However, one can never be too careful, and James’s recent lecture is still ringing in my ears. He pretty much put the fear of God into me when it comes to the hacks hanging around town looking for more juicy tidbits. I won’t be the one to deliver the goods.

  “What can I get you, or do you need more time?” I ask, putting this convo clearly back on a professional footing.

  He closes the menu over, handing it to me with a sad look in his eyes. “I’ll go with the fish and chips. Thanks.”

  The rest of the night is a blur, and I don’t know how I’m still standing on my weary feet. When David tells me I can go home early, I almost cry in relief. I’m supposed to be on lockup tonight, but he obviously sees how exhausted I am.

  Despite the fact I can scarcely keep my eyes open, once I’m back in the house, I quickly get ready for bed and then pad to Kal’s room. I knock lightly on the door, expecting to be turned away like last night, so I’m pleasantly surprised when he answers. “Who is it?” he calls out.

  “It’s Faye. Can I come in?”

  I’m greeted by initial silence, and then the door swings opens a minute later. Kal is wearing sweats and nothing else, and it’s refreshing to see he’s at least dressed like his usual self. Bruising shadows darken the skin under his dull eyes, and his skin has lost some of its radiance. He steps aside, wordlessly, leaving space for me to enter. Picking over the trail of dirty clothes on the floor, I flop into the chair by his messy bed as he crawls back under the covers.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how shitty was today?” I ask.

  His lips curve slightly up at the corners. “As shitty as you can imagine.” His voice is low and serious with no hint of humor.

  Ky had asked me not to tell Kal about my chat with Zoe, and I understand where he’s coming from, but keeping secrets has done this family no favors, and I deliberately made him no promises in that regard. “I spoke with Zoe today.” His dead eyes latch on mine, but he says nothing so I persist. “She knows the sex was consensual, and she’s willing to testify to that.”

  He props his head up with one hand as he stares off into space. “Has she heard from Lana?” I shake my head. “Does she know where she is?”

  “No. She’s gone into hiding.”

  Kal lies flat on his back, resting one arm across his face. “What did Lana say when you talked to her?”

  “Not much. I was hoping to get the truth out of her, but Greta caught me and went ballistic before I had a chance to properly talk to her.”

  He removes the hand from his face, piercing me with anguished eyes. “How badly was she hurting?”

  “She wasn’t good, Kal. She was crying her eyes out and really upset.”

  “I messed up real bad this time, Faye,” he whispers.

  He looks so sad, and I wish I could take his pain away. I don’t hesitate. I get up and lie down beside him, resting my head on his shoulder.

  “One part of me thinks this is karma and that I deserve it. Is this my punishment for how I’ve behaved with girls? How I’ve treated Lana?”

  “Did you rape her?”

  He props up on one elbow. “No! You know that!”

  “Then you don’t deserve this. We all make bad choices, and no one deserves to be punished unfairly. I can’t believe she’s doing this to you. It’s as if the girl I was getting to know was someone else. While I’m sorry she’s hurting, I’m furious with her for doing this to you. She has no right to lie about something this serious. It’s girls like Lana who scare genuine rape victims out of reporting it.”

  “She isn’t herself, Faye, because the Lana you were getting to know is the real Lana. She’s a sweetheart.”

  I sit up, an incredulous expression on my face. “I can’t believe you’re defending her.”

  “I haven’t forgotten who she is. She may have, but I haven’t.” He sighs. “I never meant to hurt her. I care about her so much, and I tried to stay away because I knew I was no good for her, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.” A strangled sound rips from the base of his throat. “She must be in unbelievable pain because the real Lana wouldn’t ever do something like this.”

  His words settle like sour milk in my gut. I want to tell him that Addison has manipulated this situation, and I know I swore I’d tell him the truth, but I’m afraid of making a bad situation even worse if I disclose that information. I’ve been plotting creative deaths for the bitch all day, so who knows how Kalvin would react?

  The last thing he needs is a murder charge added to
the existing rape charge.

  So, although I feel horribly guilty for hiding this part of the truth, I keep my lips sealed and hope it doesn’t come back to haunt me.

  Chapter Nine

  Kal gives me a delicate kiss on the cheek the next morning, but he hasn’t said anything else since last night, and he’s retreated back into his shell. I want to help but I don’t want to push him before he’s ready to confront everything. If this is his way of coping, who am I to tell him he’s wrong? He knows I’m here for him, and I’d like to think that I helped in some small way. It devastates me to witness his transformation from cocky, confident, playboy to such a sullen, silent shadow of himself. I know he must be scared shitless—I would be—and I wish I could erase his pain.

  Alex and James are nowhere to be seen this morning, so I help Ky organize the others, and then I race out the door and into the waiting Merc before I’m late for school.

  Strong arms cage me in from behind while I’m sorting out my locker and I go rigidly still. “You’re in my bad books, beautiful,” Brad confirms, brushing my hair to one side and planting a soft kiss to the back of my neck. I visibly shudder as a flurry of tingles whip up and down my spine.

  I push him back a little and turn around with an unapologetic expression plastered on my face. “Get over it.”

  He cranks out a laugh, unable to contain his smile. “And here I was expecting lots of groveling.”

  “I don’t grovel, and I only apologize when I’m genuinely in the wrong,” I retort, stuffing the last book into my bag and shutting my locker. “And I’ve done nothing wrong. This is me being a good friend, and you’ll be thanking me any day now.”

  He smirks. “It’s impossible to stay mad at you.”

  I give him my best sugary-sweet smile. “I know. I’m far too adorable.” I tweak his nose and start walking in the direction of my class.

  He falls into place alongside me. “You shouldn’t have interfered, Faye. I specifically asked you not to.”

  “Ugh!” I swing around, grabbing hold of his sweater and yanking him off to the side of the corridor. “You are so infuriating! I was only trying to help. Seriously, Brad, put your head on right. You say you want to secure a scholarship and go to college, and you let your family leave without you so you could stick to your life plan. Tell me how you can achieve that if you are living out of your car and surviving on fresh air?”

  His lips thin. “That’s only temporary until I sort something out! I’m a resourceful guy, and I will figure things out. I will get that scholarship and go to college. You watch!” He storms off, brandishing his bruised pride like a weapon, and I take a deep breath.

  “Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise already,” Lance says, materializing at my side.

  “Is he always so stubborn?” I ask, and he laughs.

  “Stubborn is every footballer’s middle name, sweetheart.” He gives me a saucy wink as he walks off.

  I drift through my morning classes like an aimless cloud. Cluttered thoughts crowd my mind, making concentration virtually impossible. It’s far too easy to get lost in my head. To think about it all—Mum, James, the test results, Ky, Kal, Brad—and my head feels like it could explode. No matter how hard I try to dispel all such thoughts, they refuse to leave me alone. The one positive is that the growing mountain of insults and taunts leveled my way barely register.

  I’m working out a groveling speech in my head when Brad accosts me outside the cafeteria at lunchtime. Clutching my hand, without a word, he leads the way to the empty auditorium and ushers me inside. I open my mouth to speak, but he silences me with a finger to my lips. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier, and I’m sorry. I know you’re only trying to help.”

  I can’t smother my grin, and he sends me a funny look. “I was preparing to grovel for the first time in my life, and now you’ve saved me from lowering my standards.” I loop my arm in his. “Apology accepted.”

  “Someone’s looking mighty pleased,” Rose says as we settle into seats for the last class of the day.

  “I managed to convince Brad to move into our house, and it took minimal persuasive skills to pull it off, so, yes, I am feeling pretty pleased with myself.” I smirk, dropping my textbook on the desk.

  Rose leans in, speaking close to my ear. “What is the dealio with you two?”

  “He’s pretending to be my boyfriend to take some of the heat off me,” I explain.

  “Pretending, huh?” Her brows lift.

  I slap her arm. “Stoppit! It’s not like that between us. You know I’m crazy about Ky.” I avert my eyes before she can read anything in my expression. I haven’t confided in Rose because the fewer people who know about the incestuous background in my family, the better. Makes me feel like a shitty friend though.

  “Does Brad know that?”

  “Of course, he does, and he came up with this idea together with Ky, so stop planting awful thoughts in my head.”

  “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into is all. I can’t see this ending well.”

  “You are overthinking it. Brad’s my friend, and that’s all he’ll ever be. He knows that.”

  “If you say so.” Her lips purse as she flicks open her book to the allocated page. The teacher starts the lesson, and I’m grateful that it’s put an end to that particular convo.

  Rose pulls me aside after class. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier. I happen to think Brad has feelings for you, and I’m worried you might both get hurt is all.”

  I inwardly cringe. “I’m sorry for being so defensive. If I’m being honest, I think you could be right. Maybe I should put an end to this fake boyfriend lark without delay.”

  “If it was me, I’d just be completely blunt with him so he doesn’t harbor any false hope.”

  The diner is crazy busy tonight, but I have less to do than most nights thanks to David and his overeager planning. He scheduled additional staff onto the rota, and now there are way too many of us. I mentally fist-pump the air when David lets both Rose and me leave an hour earlier than expected. An idea has been taking root in my head all day, and this feels like too good of an opportunity to pass up. I fill Rose in as we get changed in the locker room, and her eyes light up at my suggestion. Not only that, she has some great intel which aids our planning, and I’m so glad I decided to confide in her about this now. We plot our best plan of action, and I’m giddy with anticipation. Even though what we’re planning is technically illegal, and if we get caught we’ll be in a whole world of trouble, I think the risk is worth it.

  Taking decisive action is a great distraction, and it’ll feel good to be physically doing something to help. Ditching Lenny is imperative but problematic, so we mull over some ideas before the perfect escape plan comes to mind.

  I head home in the Merc—purely to keep up appearances—and I have a small window to get changed before I need to meet up with Rose. Raised voices greet me the second I enter the kitchen from the garage. Ky and Kent are going at it full throttle. “You’re not going out at this time of night. You’ve got school in the morning.”

  “Get lost, Ky,” Kent says, shoving his brother. “You’re not my dad, and you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  “Listen, here, you little shit.” Ky jabs a long finger in Kent’s chest. “This family has enough to deal with currently without you adding to it. So you can forget whatever whoring or stealing you have in mind for tonight and get your ass in bed. If I have to call Dad, I will.”

  “Call him! I won’t be here to care!” Kent yells, backing away.

  Ky’s hands curl into taut balls until the skin on his knuckles bleach white. “Get back here, Kent. I mean it.”

  Kent flips him the bird and a taunting smile before spinning on his heel and sauntering out the door.

  “Aagh!” Ky slams his balled fist
down hard on the counter, and I wince. His head jerks up and he notices me for the first time. “You heard that?” I nod. “He’s going to get himself arrested too, and I wouldn’t put it past the little shit to do it on purpose.” He locks his hands behind his neck. “I better call Dad.” Pulling his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, he emits a frustrated sigh as he punches the buttons.

  A commotion at the front door startles both of us, and we start running to the lobby.

  “Mom! You’re scaring me!” Kent is holding Alex’s shoulders, lightly shaking her. Tears are streaming down Alex’s face as she holds herself at the waist, swaying precariously on her dangerously high heels.

  “Mom. What is it?” Ky steps forward, circling his arm around Alex’s back to steady her.

  “I’ve lost. I’ve lost everything,” she babbles. “Why?” She turns pleading eyes on us, her harried expression jumping from me to Ky to Kent. “Why me? What have I done to deserve this? I have worked myself to the bone for years, for this? I can’t even …” Pushing the boys away, she kicks off her shoes, sending them flying in different directions. I duck down, narrowly avoiding a stiletto in the face as she storms into the living area like a woman on a mission. She reappears a minute later carrying a bottle of white wine and a large wine glass. “I’m going to my room, and I don’t want to be disturbed.”

  A muscle ticks in Ky’s jaw and Kent has a “little lost boy” expression on his face that guts me.

  “Mom, please, this isn’t the way to deal with it.” Ky steps toward her, appealing with his eyes.

  Alex is halfway up the mezzanine stairs when she turns around. “Don’t you dare attempt to lecture me! You know nothing! Just leave me alone, all of you.” She stomps up the stairs, leaving us all flabbergasted in her wake.