Losing Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 2) Page 10

  Tears glean in Alex’s eyes. “Baby,” she purrs affectionately, caressing his cheek. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, but I’m not the one who broke up this family. You can blame your father for that.”

  I chew on the inside of my cheek as I peruse James. He looks distraught, like someone has hacked at his insides with a chainsaw. His dazed eyes meet mine, and I feel for him, even if he has been the creator of his own doom. “You should probably come live with me, Faye.”

  Dread lodges like a boulder in the pit of my stomach. Technically, he’s right. Either way, I’ve no blood ties to Alex.

  “She’s not leaving,” Ky grits out.

  “Faye is always welcome here,” Alex tells James. She turns to me. “This is your home for as long as you want, but it’s your decision, sweetheart, and if you want to live with James, that’s your call.”

  Ky opens his mouth to speak, but Keaton beats him to it. “Don’t go, Faye. Please. We can’t lose you too.”

  I shuffle awkwardly on my feet. I know what I want to do. I want to stay here, but James has no one, and he’s blood.

  “Leaving might be for the best,” James says, subtly gesturing toward Ky.

  Ky growls under his breath. “Quit with the blackmail, Dad.”

  James straightens his shirt and heads toward the stairs. “I’m going to pack the rest of my things.” He faces me. “Take a few minutes to think about it.” He kisses the top of my head.

  When I look up, five pairs of eyes are focused on me. “I’d better get ready for school.” I scurry back to my room, weighted down with expectation and uncertainty.

  As the scalding hot water cascades down my back, I mull over my options and try to figure out this new mess in my head. I should go with James. I can keep him company, and it’s the perfect way to maintain distance from Ky. That’s what I should do, but I can’t. I can’t leave Ky to deal with the fallout on his own. My cousins need me, and I like feeling needed. And Brad is moving in tonight. I can’t convince him to do something he wasn’t one hundred percent on and then ditch him at the last second. But the real clincher is the fact that I don’t know the status of James’s relationship with Courtney, and the thoughts of being around her make my skin crawl.

  I pull on my snug-fitting jeans and a black lace-trimmed vest underneath a pink off-the-shoulder sweater. Toeing on my flat, black pumps, I fluff out my damp hair and leave my bedroom with my bag flung over my shoulder.

  I’m walking down the corridor when I’m yanked sideways and dragged into Ky’s room. A tiny shriek skips out of my mouth as my bag drops to the floor with a thud. Ky envelops me in an all-consuming embrace, and I melt into his arms. He buries his head in my hair, inhaling sharply. “Don’t leave. Please.”

  I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper.

  He lets out a shuddering breath. “I was so scared you were going to go because it’s the easier route.”

  He kisses the top of my head, and I close my eyes, savoring his touch. “There’s that, but I can’t bear the thought of leaving you any more than you can.”

  He holds the back of my head in both his hands and tilts my chin up. “When everything else is shattering, you feel like the one true constant.”

  “You can’t rely on that, Ky, because I mightn’t be that forever.”

  He presses a kiss to my forehead and I feel it all the way to my toes. “I know, babe.” His lips linger there a little longer and my arms grip his waist a little tighter. “For the first time in years, I’m praying every night,” he admits, leaning back to look at me. “I’m praying so hard that I don’t lose you.” I try to gulp over the messy ball of emotion in my throat. “You’re mine, Faye. Mine.” His gaze drops to my mouth, and a shot of electricity charges the teeny space between us.

  It’s only been three and a half days since we last kissed, but it seems like an eternity has passed since I tasted him on my lips. I want to taste him again, to hell with the consequences. I lift my hand and brush my thumb across his lower lip. He shivers in my arms, and that gives me an inordinate thrill. He lowers his head, and I watch his mouth slowly descending with the intensity of a hunter stalking its prey. My chest heaves in anticipation, and blood thrums through my eager veins. Gripping my hips, he pulls me closer, his mouth now a hairsbreadth from mine. He stops, poised in midair, and we share breaths as the ever-present dangerous vibe bleeds into the miniscule gap between our mouths. Jumbled thoughts and emotions battle inside me. I’ve never needed a kiss as badly as I currently need his. Ever so softly, his lips brush mine, sending lusty tingles ricocheting all over my body. That feather-light touch has ignited every dormant part of me, and that’s a serious talent. I moan into his mouth as my fingers dig into his hips.

  “What the hell is going on in here?” James’s reprimanding voice startles me, and I scream as a mixture of shock and fright whittles through me.

  Ky pulls away from me instantly, his jaw taut with stress as he glares at his dad, transferring all his pent-up frustration in that direction. “Nothing that concerns you,” he warns.

  “Don’t take that line with me, Kyler. My patience is hanging on by a thread, so don’t push me.”

  “You’ve made your bed.” Ky batters his forearms.

  “I got that message from your mother, thank you very much.” His features turn more pliable as he faces me. “Are you ready?”

  I straighten up. “I’m not coming with you, James. I’m needed more here.”

  “The hell you aren’t, young lady. Especially after what I walked in on. You two can’t be trusted alone.”

  “I take great offense to that, James. This whole situation is a nightmare, but we’re doing the best we can, and we can be trusted. This was a moment of weakness. It won’t happen again.” I can’t even look at Ky.

  “You’re coming with me and that’s final.” He takes my elbow.

  “Get your hands off her. It’s Faye’s decision, not yours.” Ky faces off with his dad, sending him a threatening glare.

  “Please, James. Go. If anything changes or I think I can’t control myself, then I’ll call you to come get me, but for now, my cousins need me here. You wouldn’t leave them to starve and rot in their own filth, now would you?” My feeble attempt at humor dies an immediate death.

  “If this is about a replacement housekeeper, I’ll prioritize that straightaway.”

  “It’s not, but it’d be great if you could do that sooner rather than later.”

  His shoulders deflate, and that’s when I know I’ve won this round. “Okay, fine—for now.” He tenderly kisses me on the cheek. “Call me if you need anything.” He stands unsurely in front of Ky. “I don’t want to leave things on bad terms with you, son.”

  “Perhaps you should’ve thought of that before you cheated on my mother and almost destroyed her. Before you had sex with your own sister.” The repugnant look is blatantly obvious on Ky’s face. “You make me sick.”

  “I can’t win,” James mutters sadly under his breath, shaking his head. “Call my cell if you need me. I’m not abandoning this family, and I’m not going to stop fighting for your mother either. I’m giving her some space, and I’m hoping she’ll come around.”

  Ky grunts. “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you.”

  “So, you’d prefer us to divorce?” There’s an icy undercurrent in his voice.

  Ky’s smirk disappears. “I didn’t say that.”

  “For what it’s worth, son, I’m sorry. I wish I could go back and undo everything I’ve done.” Giving me one last small smile, he exits the room, leaving a layer of stale tension in his wake.

  “I don’t want them to divorce,” Ky quietly admits. “But it seems inevitable.”

  I want to reassure him, but no words spring to mind, because his statement is too hard to refute.

  I
ride with Brad after school to his house with Lenny and Max trailing us in the Merc. It took almost twenty minutes to convince Lenny that it was safe to travel with Brad, and considering my patience is in limited supply these days, he’s lucky he didn’t get a punch in the face.

  Brad has most of his stuff boxed up already, so I’m merely helping him pack the last few bits, and then we’ll be on our way. “Will you miss it?” I ask, while loading some of his football paraphernalia into a brown cardboard box.

  He stops what he’s doing, staring off into space. “Yeah. It’s the only home I’ve ever known.” He walks to the large window and surveys the vast back garden. The grass is overgrown, and weeds litter a lawn that was once no doubt pristine. The cover enclosing the rectangular-shaped swimming pool is laden down with leaves and other earthy debris. “Can you see the tree house at the very back of the garden?” He waggles his fingers, gesturing me over.

  I join him at the window, straining my eyes in the direction he’s pointing. “I see it.”

  “My dad built that for me when I was eight.” A surge of pride infiltrates his tone. “He could’ve easily hired someone to do it, but I really wanted us to build it together, and I’ll never forget how happy I was that weekend. He even stayed out with me the Saturday night. We slept in sleeping bags and had a midnight feast that we’d managed to sneak out past Mom.” He twists sideways, leaning against the glass, a nostalgic look on his face. I mirror his position, listening avidly. “I have hundreds more memories all tied to this house, and that’s all I have left of my family at this stage.” His eyes shutter momentarily. When he reopens them, there’s a wealth of pain in his glossy eyes. “I’ll miss this house, but I miss my family more.”

  His voice is thick with emotion, and I don’t hesitate—I lace my fingers in his. He pulls me a little closer, resting his chin atop my head. “I don’t even know where they are or if they’re all right.”

  “They haven’t contacted you?” I tip my head up to meet his eyes.

  He shakes his head. “They can’t risk it in case they’re caught.”

  When Brad had explained how his father had embezzled funds from some of his stockbroking clients and was now on the run from the law, I hadn’t fully considered the implications of same. “That’s awful, Brad. You must feel so lonely.” Our circumstances are different, but we’re both effectively parentless, and I can relate. A rush of similar sentiments bubble to the surface, and a slicing pain spears me through the chest.

  That’s the thing with grief—it jumps out and waylays you when you least expect it.

  “I do,” he whispers.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He shrugs. “Mostly I’m fine, but I have my moments.”

  “I get those too.”

  His fingers weave through my hair. “This is the part where I eat my own words.” I frown, thoroughly confused, and he throws back his head, laughing. “Prepare yourself,” he teases. “I’m going to thank you.”

  “Oh, lordy,” I exclaim. “And so soon too!”

  “I’m too much of a softy.”

  “You won’t hear me disagreeing, but that’s a good thing.”

  He staggers back, clutching his heart in dramatic fashion. “Did you just … compliment me?” He fakes surprise.

  “Knock it off jerkface”—I elbow him playfully in the ribs—“or I’ll take it back.”

  He grins. “You’re good people, Faye.”

  “You’re good people, too, Brad.”

  We smile at each other, and for one millisecond, everything seems right with the world.

  Chapter Eleven

  I notice the frown building on Brad’s brow as he steers his SUV up the Kennedy drive. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  Lines furrow his brow, and his eyes are dead set ahead. I twist in my seat to see what’s distracted him. A shiny, white open-top Porsche convertible is parked in front of the door. Now it’s my turn to frown. “Whose car is that?”

  “What?”

  I look over at him. “What has gotten into you? Why are you acting so weird?”

  His face contorts. “I just realized I left a box in the garage back at the house. We’ll have to turn around.”

  I collapse in my seat. “That’s all? Jeez, I thought someone had died by the look on your face.” He’s looking at me strangely, and my eyes narrow suspiciously. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

  He spins the car around, retracing the path we’ve recently traveled. The Merc skids to avoid us. Lenny is gesturing wildly with his hands, but I pretend not to notice. He rubs the back of his head. “Yeah. I just hate putting you out.”

  I scoff. “Don’t be ridic. It’s not like I’ve anything else to do today. Besides, it’s nice to get out of the house for a while.” I don’t elaborate because I’m afraid if he realizes exactly what kind of cesspool he’s walking into that he’ll change his mind, even if living in the midst of all the Kennedy drama is better than sleeping in his car.

  “In that case, I’m taking you for something to eat after. My treat.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I say in a muffled voice as I force my head through my knees. We’ve approached the gate and the cameras are already flashing in my face. It’s funny how commonplace it’s almost become.

  I wait outside the car for Brad while he takes the steps two at a time and disappears into his former house.

  The Merc slows down as it pulls up alongside Brad’s SUV. I start a mental countdown in my head, and I’m only up to six when Lenny jumps out and starts tearing me a new one. Apparently, spontaneity is banned, and I’m required to give him advance notice when my plan changes. I’m tempted to let him talk to my middle finger, but I let him vent it all out of his system before I respond. “Chill out. Brad forgot something and we had to come back. It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “I doubt your uncle will see it that way when I report back to him.”

  I shrug. “Report away, Lenny. Your threats don’t scare me.” I really don’t like this dude, and he needs a serious attitude adjustment. Brad pulls the front door shut and strides toward me with a small black box in his arms. “By the way, Brad is taking me for something to eat before we head back to the house. I’ve given you advance notice. Happy now?”

  Lenny glares at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Max fighting a smile, and I send him a conspiratorial wink.

  “Everything okay?” Brad asks, kick-starting the engine into gear.

  “Lenny was getting his knickers in a twist, but he’ll survive.”

  Brad bursts out laughing. “Aw, Faye. You crack me up!”

  I grin. “It’s my life’s mission to entertain you.”

  “Never a dull moment, babe!”

  Brad pulls up in front of Legends diner, and I groan. “Seriously? This is where you’re bringing me?”

  He frowns. “It’s the best place in town. I didn’t think you’d mind.” He starts the engine up again. “But it’s cool. There’s a little Italian place over the other side of town that isn’t bad either.”

  I place my hand over his. “It’s fine. We can eat here. That was a total overreaction.” The prices in the diner are reasonable, and I don’t want to make assumptions about Brad’s financial status which I know can’t be the healthiest. He said his parents left him some money, but I imagine he has to be careful with his spending habits.

  “I don’t mind, honestly.”

  He’s looking at me like I’m a little crazy. He’s probably not wrong. “Nope. Let’s head in.”

  Leanne and Jenn are working shifts tonight, and Jenn escorts Brad and me to a booth at the back. Unfortunately, a whole host of our classmates is seated at the front of the diner, and we pick up our fair share of surreptitious looks as we pass. Brad high-fives a few of his football teammates while I mumble a surly hello.

  We both order sa
lads, and after our drinks have been delivered, I decide to broach a subject I’ve been purposely avoiding. “So.” I lean forward on my elbows. “I think we need to establish some ground rules.” Brad’s brows knit together. “For the fake relationship,” I whisper-add.

  “Ah, right.” He takes a long slurp of his drink. “What did you have in mind?”

  Cripes. Why is this so difficult to articulate? I look down at the Formica top, tapping my foot nervously off the floor. “You’re a little too hands-on at times, so I’d like to keep that to a minimum, if possible.”

  I glance up and feel instantly guilty. His cheeks flush red, and there’s a hurt look in his eyes.

  “Shit. I didn’t mean to offend you, Brad, it’s, just, it makes me a little uncomfortable.”

  He stretches across the table, speaking in a quiet voice. “Because you like it or don’t like it?”

  “What the heck does that have to do with anything?” I don’t like the direction this conversation is taking.

  “Humor me.” His eyes penetrate mine. “If Ky wasn’t on the scene, would you have any interest in dating me?”

  Oh, ground, please open up and swallow me.

  “I’m not answering that. It’s irrelevant to this discussion.” I totally chicken out.

  “I beg to differ. This goes to the heart of the issue, does it not?” He takes another greedy glug of his drink.

  “Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe we should stage a public breakup.”

  He shrugs. “If that’s what you want. I won’t force you to do anything that makes you so uncomfortable. How awful this last week must’ve been for you.” The sarcasm and hurt in his tone is evident.

  What in the actual hell is going on here? How did me wanting to discuss some boundaries end up bringing us to this point?

  I reach over for his hand but he snatches it away. “Quit with the mixed signals, Faye.”