Keeping Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 3)

by Siobhan Davis

  “You’re mine. Now and forever.” He pulls me onto his lap, winding his arms around me. “This isn’t going to be easy to say, so bear with me.”

  I kiss the top of his head, nodding. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He clears his throat, looking me directly in the eye. There is so much pain and hurt reflected in his gaze, and it’s difficult to stay strong, to not collapse, but I do, because he needs me to be strong for the both of us.

  “I was abused when I was ten,” he blurts out, and the bottom drops out of my world.

  Chapter Eight

  Faye

  I’m not sure what I was expecting him to say, but it most definitely wasn’t that. Fighting back tears, I caress his face and wait for him to continue. His head drops back, and he looks up at the ceiling. “I used to attend a different motocross facility before I started going to Rick and May’s. It’s not around anymore. It closed down after the scandal.” He pins his eyes on me again. “That track produced a lot of pro bikers, and they often returned for special events or turned up on free weekends to help out with the kids. There was this one guy who started showing up when I was ten.”

  He shivers profusely, and I wrap my arms more tightly around him. “I didn’t like him from the minute I met him. You know when you get a gut instinct, bad vibes?” I nod. “I knew he wasn’t a good guy, so I did my best to steer clear, and it worked at first. He didn’t pay me any attention, and as the weeks turned to months, I kinda forgot about him, but then I started to hear things, rumors that he was doing stuff to some of the other boys. A few boys dropped out, switched tracks, and I was feeling uncomfortable, but I tried to shake it. Then this one Saturday, Julia, the owner, had a family emergency, and she had to leave early. She asked him to lock up. We were the last session of the day, and I was waiting by the door for Dad to pick me up, watching as one by one the other boys were picked up.” He pauses to draw a concentrated breath, and my body is wired tight with apprehension. “He was tidying up in the main area where we were waiting, messing about with boxes by the door, when I felt his hand brush my leg. At first I thought I was imagining it, but after the second or third time, I knew it wasn’t my imagination, especially when his hand inched higher up my leg.”

  He buries his head in my chest, his body quaking and trembling. I run my hand up and down his back, kissing the top of his head continuously. I don’t speak because I don’t have any words. Even if I did, I doubt I could verbalize them. Ky doesn’t need that anyway. He needs the opportunity to explain things in his own way. So, I just hold him, touch him, and wait for him to gather the strength to continue.

  After a couple minutes, he lifts his head, and the agony in his gaze punches a hole straight through my heart. His voice is strained when he resumes talking. “Dad was never late, and I mean never. He was usually one of the first to arrive but not this day. I watched in absolute panic as the last boy was picked up. I wanted to run to Drew’s dad and beg him to take me with him, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. I was terrified, Faye.”

  His chest heaves up and down. “I can still remember how I felt. My heart was beating so hard in my chest, and I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared.” He closes his eyes briefly, and I use the opportunity to wipe a stray tear away.

  “He locked the door and turned to me. ‘Come ’ere boy’ he said, and I swear I can still hear those words as clearly as if it was yesterday. Finally managing to get my feet working, I lunged for the door and tried to open the lock, but he was fast. Grabbed me up, kicking and screaming, and took me into the locker room. He pinned me against the locker and grabbed me by the throat. Told me if I spoke about this to anyone that he’d kill me. Said no one would believe me either. That it would be my word against a local motocross hero.”

  Tears cascade down my face, and I can’t do a damned thing to stop them. Ky’s eyes look dead as he stares ahead. “He … he made me touch him, and when he was done, he did the same thing to me.” A strangled sob rips free of his mouth, and he pulls me into his body, hugging me fiercely as he cries into my shoulder.

  I’m crying with him.

  Crying for the terrified ten-year-old boy who was subjected to such abuse and for the seventeen-year-old boy in my arms who has tried so hard to bury this pain but who has finally realized he can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen.

  “I’m sorry, Ky. I’m sorry that happened to you,” I whisper, holding him so tight I’m probably constricting his blood flow. “I want to kill him stone dead for subjecting you to that.” Rage is the new blood flowing through my veins.

  He looks up at me, eyes brimming with tears. “I’ve never told anyone that.”

  That admission increases my agony one-hundred-fold. He’s kept that inside for so long. “Thank you for telling me.”

  He studies my face, and we stare at one another, searing emotion silently filling the space around us. I cup his face and kiss his cheek. He gulps. “Dad turned up a few minutes later, full of apology. He’d gotten a flat on the way and had to stop to change the tire. Of all the fucking days to get a flat.” He shakes his head sadly. “He didn’t even notice how quiet I was on the trip back because the triplets were fighting in the back of the car, and he was too busy to notice. I didn’t know what to do, Faye. I wanted to tell my dad, but I was embarrassed, ashamed. Felt like it was my fault somehow. Maybe if Mom had been there, but she was away working that week.”

  He stares off into space. “I didn’t want to go back the next Saturday, and I tried making up all kinds of excuses but Dad was having none of it. There was a race on I’d been excited about for weeks. Dad presumed I was nervous and he was boosting me up and telling me I’d be fine when I got there. Except I wasn’t. I threw up in the bathroom, and my whole body was soaked in sweat. We were waiting in the back area, getting ready to go out and race, and I kept looking over my shoulder, waiting for him to arrive. Sure enough, as soon as Dad went out to the bleachers, he showed his face. But this time he wasn’t alone. There was another motocross legend with him that day.”

  He starts rubbing circles on the back of my neck with his thumb. “I started shaking, couldn’t help it. Almost pissed my pants I was that terrified. I saw the other biker looking at me strangely, and I was scared he was planning on doing the same thing. I thought about running out to Dad and begging him to take me away, but we were lining up for the start of the race, and I was afraid Dad would get mad if I bailed.” He pulls my head down and kisses me hard. When we break apart, we are both breathing heavily.

  “Then everything turned crazy. The two bikers started fighting while we all looked on in astonishment. The owners rushed in along with some of the parents, and there was lots of shouting, but I couldn’t hear, because he was glaring at me. He made a sliding gesture with his hand across his neck, and I ran out, headed straight for Dad. Of course, he thought I was panicked over the adults fighting, and even later, when it all came out—how he’d been abusing several boys at this track and a few others—he never stopped to think it might’ve happened to me.”

  “What?” My tone is dubious. “They never even asked you?”

  “Oh, they did. When Mom came back from her latest foreign trip, they both sat me down and explained what had happened to some of the boys and how the track was closing down. Apparently, the owners were fielding a ton of lawsuits and members were leaving in their droves, so they informed me they’d enrolled me in the Middleborough program, alongside Brad. At the end of the conversation, they asked me if he had touched me or upset me in any way.”

  He holds my face in his large, warm palms. “At the end, Faye. They asked me at the end. As a passing remark. Why didn’t they ask me that first? Why wasn’t that the most important thing to discover from the outset? Why didn’t they see how much I was hurting? Why did Dad get a flat that day? Why did that man pick on me? Why didn’t I tell my parents? Why did I lie when they asked and said no, he hadn
’t hurt me. Why, why, why?”

  He sighs, weaving his fingers through my hair. “That’s all I’ve thought of over the years. All the whys. I read the trial reports a few years back, and it was pretty gruesome reading. I got off relatively light. Others weren’t so lucky.” He shakes his head, clamping a hand over his mouth. “He legit destroyed their lives, their futures. I feel sick at the thought of what was going on around me and I didn’t notice a thing.”

  “You were only a little boy, Ky. How would you have known?” I press a kiss to his cheek.

  Slowly, he nods. “He was sent to prison for what he did to the others, and I read a few years back that he was knifed in jail and didn’t survive the attack. That made me feel tons better. I even got drunk that night and cursed him in my head. Hoped he was in hell and that every sick thing he’d done to others was being done to him.”

  He rests his head on my shoulder. “I thought it would make me feel better, knowing he was dead, but it didn’t help. I still had this big gaping hole in my chest. I was still full of so much anger and rage. I was still taking it out on Da … on James.” His Adam’s apple jumps in his throat. “But I don’t want to do that anymore because I realize what’s wrong now. I’m angry at myself. You know what that’s like.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I do, because I did the same. Internalized everything. Beat myself up for being so stupid in the first place.”

  “Exactly. I should’ve walked out to Drew’s dad that night and asked him to take me home, but I was too fucking petrified. I failed to protect myself, and I swore after it all went down that I’d never appear so weak and vulnerable again and that I wouldn’t fail the people I loved.”

  God, so much of this adds up now. Who he is, and why he is the way he is—that glaring protective streak that borders on possessiveness at times.

  I understand it now.

  There are so many things I want to say to him. So many things I learned from my own therapy. Things I know will help him. But I don’t say any of that because I know from experience that he has to want those things for himself. He can’t do it for anyone else. He has got to make that decision. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure yet, but telling you was the first step. Getting that off my chest has been a long time overdue.”

  “I’m glad you told me, Ky, because keeping that locked up inside would’ve eaten you alive. Destroyed your life, your future. You don’t need me to tell you that or tell you why I’m saying that. You know why, but I’m curious, why did you tell me now? I thought this was going to be about your bio dad.”

  He harrumphs. “Fate is one fucked-up bitch.” He drags a hand through his hair. “I’ve spent years being mad at Dad for failing to protect me that day. For failing to spot what was under his nose, but the irony is that my dad did save me. I just didn’t know it at the time.”

  I frown, completely confused.

  “That other man, the other motocross champ that came to the track that Saturday? He protected me.”

  I’m still trying to figure it out.

  “That other man was Doug Grant, Faye.”

  A light bulb goes off in my head as he says, “Doug Grant is my biological father. He’s the one who saved me.”

  Chapter Nine

  Faye

  “Oh, em, gee. He knew? He knew who you were and what happened?” I ask.

  Ky nods. “Apparently—if he’s to be believed—he never knew Mom had a third child by him until he came to the track by chance that day. He says he knew I was his the minute he saw me, and he could also tell I was scared. He said he’d heard the rumors going around about his colleague, and it didn’t take much to work out what was going down. He fought him and told the owners. My bio dad forced the scandal to come out and saved me from further abuse.”

  “And you punched him?” I scratch the top of my head, perplexed.

  “He told me that was the extent of his fatherly duties and to get the fuck out of his house and never come back. I saw red. Hit him once. Did the rest of the damage pounding the wall.” He flexes his injured hand.

  “Ho. Lee. Shit.”

  “I know. What the hell am I expected to do with that?”

  “Fecked if I know,” I admit. Silence descends. “What do you want to do now? You can’t avoid Alex and James forever.”

  Sliding me off his lap, he stretches his arms out over his head as he sighs. “I know, but I’m not ready to face them yet.” He gets out of bed, pulling me up with him. “But I don’t want to run into that asshole either, and I’d like to put as much distance between me and this town as possible. How about we get some breakfast and then start the trip back but find some place to stop off and lay low for a few days.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you need. I’m down with that.”

  He grins, already seeming a little lighter. I know from experience how cathartic it can be to get stuff like that off your chest, to free your soul of some of the dark matter weighing it down. “You should call Dad and ask him to smooth things over for you at school. I don’t want you getting into trouble on my account,” he says.

  I don’t think he’s realized that he just called James “Dad,” but I’m not going to point that out. James is still his dad even if they don’t share the same flesh and blood. Just like Michael will always be my dad too. “I’ll ring him. You go shower first, unless you want to speak to James?” I keep my voice steady, devoid of the tendrils of hope building inside me.

  He shakes his head and his smile fades. “Not ready to face that yet.”

  “He’s hurting, too. I was in the room when he found out, and he was devastated, Ky. He loves you so much.”

  “I know, but it’s too soon. My head is such a mess.” He hauls me into his chest. “I just want to lock myself away with you for a few days and chew things over. Then I’ll go back and talk to them.”

  I wait until I hear the shower turn on before I phone James. “How is he? Are you all okay?” he says by way of greeting.

  “He’s hurting, but we’re okay. He’s not ready to come home, so I’m going to hang around here for a few days with him. I haven’t spoken to Kal yet, so I’m not sure what he’ll want to do. Can you square things off with Principal Carter for me, please?” I figure it’s best to tell him, not ask him and give him a chance to say no. Not that it would matter. Wild horses wouldn’t drag me away from Ky.

  I’m met by silence and heavy breathing. “I’m not happy about this, but I’ll agree because there are extenuating circumstances. I’ll give you a few days, but he needs to come home, Faye. We need to speak to him. I need to speak to him. This is equally upsetting for me.”

  “I get that, and he does too, but don’t force him to confront this until he’s ready.”

  “Has he met him?”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t a good meeting, and I don’t think he’ll be going back there.”

  “I’m sorry he’s hurting. Tell him … tell him I love him, and this changes nothing. He’s my son, and this will always be his home.”

  After a quick chat to update Kal, we all meet in the lobby a half hour later and check out of the hotel. Kal has deets of an all-day breakfast place on the outskirts of town. I drive with Ky in his rented truck, and we follow Kal to the restaurant.

  After we finish eating, we discuss plans over coffee. “I may as well head home,” Kal suggests.

  “It’s up to you.” Ky shrugs.

  “It feels like I’m in the way,” he admits, holding out his cup for a coffee refill when the waitress appears.

  Ky leans over the table. “You could never be in the way, and if I’ve given you that impression, I’m sorry. You’re my brother, and I’m really grateful you came with Faye. That means a lot.”

  Kal takes a slurp of his coffee, carefully choosing his next words. “I can’t pretend to imagine what you’re going through. I know
it’s some bad shit, and I wish you could tell me, but I get it. You need Faye, and I’m cool with that. I can wait until you’re ready to confide in me.”

  Ky puts his cup down. “Kal, it’s not like that … it’s just incredibly difficult to talk about.” He reaches under the table, lacing his fingers through mine. “Faye is the first person I’ve told in almost eight years, and it took enormous courage to even tell her. I want to tell you, honestly, I do.”

  Kal frowns. “I thought this was about your bio dad?”

  “It is, but it’s bigger than that.”

  Kal’s concerned gaze bounces between us. I give Ky’s hand a reassuring squeeze, and he turns to look into my eyes. Despite his hangover, they appear clearer, brighter than they have in a long while. His eyes seek my advice, and I nod in encouragement. Leaning in, he kisses me sweetly and my lips tingle blissfully.

  Kal gets up to leave. “Look, I’ll give you both some space. You need this time alone. It’s no sweat.”

  Ky rises, slapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “No, don’t leave. Let’s go for a walk.”

  I insisted they talk alone, so I head to a small beauty salon across the road and get a mani-pedi on a whim. My phone chimes with a message from Adam. “It was wonderful to finally meet you, and I’m looking forward to spending time together. You set the pace. I’m still prepared to visit you this weekend, but if you need more time that’s no problem. Let me know.”

  I lean my head back and close my eyes. I’m not sure what I want, but I don’t want to say no in case I decide I do want to talk to him. I still have so many questions. I tap out a quick reply. “Can I think about it and get back to you in the next couple of days?”

  His reply is immediate. “Of course. Talk to you then.”