Keeping Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 3)

by Siobhan Davis

  “If it’s about money and power, then why does she want James? This almost seems personal.”

  “It is. This is about me,” Alex agrees. “She harbors some form of resentment against me, and I don’t think she’ll be happy until she’s taken my husband from me too.”

  “James doesn’t want to be with her. You heard what he said.”

  “But is it the truth?” Alex muses, tapping a manicured finger against her lips. “That’s what I’d like your help with. Could you be my eyes and ears around here when I’m not in the house and let me know if she shows up again or if you know he is going out to meet her?”

  I shift uncomfortably. “I’m not altogether comfortable spying on my uncle, Alex.”

  “It’s not spying per se. All I’m asking is if you find out something or come across something that you let me know.”

  I agree with Alex that Courtney seems like the kind of woman who doesn’t take no for an answer, and I’m betting that isn’t the last time she’ll attempt to reclaim James. She got to him once before, who’s to say she won’t be successful again? She’s poison through and through, and I don’t want my uncle anywhere near her, so, really, I’d be doing him a favor by looking out for him. “Okay. I’ll do it. But I’m doing it for James.”

  She smiles. “Of course, and thank you.” She gets up.

  “Could I ask you something?”

  She nods, sitting back down. “What do you know of Peyton’s mother?”

  “Not much,” she admits, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Wendy was a few years older than me, and she attended your school, so our paths didn’t cross much. I’ve heard gossip about her over the years. Apparently, all her children have different fathers, and she’s raised them as a single mom for most of that time.” She cocks her head to the side. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious.” I shrug, deliberately downplaying it. “I’m still trying to get to know people in town.”

  Alex yawns. “I strongly suggest you avoid Peyton and her family. Judging by what I’ve heard around town, and based on how they conducted themselves at that meeting on Friday, it’s obvious they’re not from good stock.” While her assessment on both counts is bang on, her comment still rubs me up the wrong way. I like Alex, and she’s been nothing but kind and welcoming to me, but there’s no denying the snobbish attitude both Kal and Lana referred to previously. I don’t like people who judge others without good reason, and her assumption makes me uneasy. Nevertheless, I let it go. It’s late and I want to crawl into bed with Ky and forget about everything fighting for space in my head.

  I wander down to breakfast the next morning in leggings and one of Ky’s shirts. “Don’t you possess any of your own?” Kal teases, fingering the hem of the shirt.

  “Sure, I do,” I reply, jostling him out of my way as I open the fridge door. “But I like wearing Ky’s.” I bury my nose in the material. “It smells just like him.” My eyes glaze over, and I’m sure my smile is goofy.

  Strong, familiar arms snake around my waist from behind. “I love you wearing my shirt. You look fucking hot.” Pressing his mouth to my ear, he whispers, “Although I’d prefer if you were naked underneath it.”

  “I just puked in my mouth,” Kent says, brushing past us. “You two are thoroughly nauseating.” He sticks his fingers in his mouth, gagging for show.

  Ky swats him across the back of the head. “I think someone’s jealous.”

  Kent snorts. “As if. I’m bathing in a sea of pussy while you’re stuck on a life raft with the same girl and no land in sight.” He flicks my cheek. “B-or-ing!”

  I push him away, rubbing my sore cheek. “You’re fooling no one, Kent. Least of all me.”

  He shrugs. “Whatever, sweetheart.” Flipping Ky the bird, he saunters out of the kitchen whistling.

  “He won’t be so cheery when he realizes Dad’s bringing him to the shrink tonight,” Kal announces.

  “I hope it helps him,” I say, extracting myself from Ky’s grip to pour some juice.

  “Here, I prepared your fruit and yogurt already.” He hands me a bowl, and I beam at him.

  “You’re so sweet.” Flinging my arms around his neck, I smack a loud kiss on his lips.

  “I’m with Kent on this one,” Keanu hollers from his seat at the table. “Some of us are trying to eat here.”

  I pull back from him, sighing as Brad enters the room. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” The word flies out of my mouth. “Try not to miss me too much today.” I grin as I slide onto the bench alongside Keaton. Ky sits down across from me.

  “Being suspended is no laughing matter,” James says, materializing in the kitchen. “And I fully expect you to maximize study time while you’re off. Adam expects no less either.”

  I drop my spoon, and it clangs noisily off the tabletop. “You told him?” I had deliberately omitted any mention of my suspension at breakfast on Saturday because I don’t want him thinking he has some say in how I conduct my life. Not yet, at least. Plus, it would only give him further reason to claim the Kennedys are a bad influence.

  “I had no choice.” He grabs a cup of coffee before sitting down alongside me. “Your chat with him worked, and he’s agreed to hold off on lodging any custodial claim on condition that I keep him fully informed of anything important. That seemed like a fair trade-off.”

  “Aw, great,” I complain, wondering when I’m going to get a call. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to contact me yet.

  James sets his mug down. “Faye, sweetheart, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to in relation to Adam. I’ve deliberately not said anything before because I don’t want to influence your decision, but it is your decision. He isn’t listed on your birth cert and you’ll officially be a legal adult in a couple of months, so you can decide on what is and isn’t acceptable in that relationship, or if you even want one with him.”

  I mull it over, and James is right. Adam can attempt to lecture me all he likes, but he wasn’t the one who raised me. I’m only a couple of months shy of my eighteenth birthday, and I’m responsible for myself. I’ll take myself to task over my actions if necessary. He hasn’t earned the right to meddle in my life. Maybe someday, I’ll want that. Maybe someday, I’ll feel like it’s right and the way things should be, but we’re definitely not in that space yet. I’m sensing that James is struggling to accept Adam’s role in Mum’s life and the role he may play in mine, and I can understand that, to a point. But we can’t change the facts, and I do need to set him straight on one thing. “I agree, and Adam has said he’ll let me set the pace, but I do want to get to know him. I owe him that much.”

  “Honey, you don’t owe him anything.”

  Instinctively, I smooth a hand over my stomach, remembering what Adam did for me. And it’s more than him coming to my rescue. It extends beyond that. “He was robbed of my childhood as much as I was deprived of his existence. This isn’t his fault, James, and I believe him when he says he would’ve stood by Mum. That she was his one true love. And he seems like a nice guy.” My eyes meet Ky’s across the table, and his imperceptible nod encourages me to continue. “I think I’d regret it if I didn’t at least take the time to get to know him before I decide if I want him in my life or not.”

  James looks introspective. “I can tell you’ve given this much thought.”

  “I have.”

  “I’m on your side, Faye. Always. And I’ll support you if this is what you want to do.”

  My cousins trade looks around the table while Brad continues to eat his cereal with his head down, trying his best to look and act inconspicuous.

  “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  He clears his throat. “He mentioned he was hoping to introduce you to his other children once you were ready to meet them, and I thought it might help if we invited them here? We could organize caterers to co
me in and prepare a causal buffet, keep things light. If you like?”

  I think about it. “Actually, that sounds great. Thanks.” At least if I’m in my own home with my cousins around, I’ll be buffered if it doesn’t go well.

  My own home.

  I shock myself with my thoughts, and tears glisten in my eyes. While this isn’t the first time I’ve felt like this, it’s the first time I’ve properly contemplated what it means. I never thought I’d utter those words again. That anywhere could feel like home with mum and dad gone. The enormity of the moment isn’t lost on me.

  Ky is around the table and by my side in a heartbeat. “What is it?” He crouches down, holding my hands in his.

  “It’s nothing really.” I smile, trying to deflect the attention. He wipes a tear from my cheek, and I read everything in his eyes. I can’t believe he’s so concerned for me with all the crap he’s dealing with. I don’t know what I did to deserve him, but I offer up thanks to whoever set our paths on a collision course. I squeeze his hands and look around the table. “I was just thinking it would be more comfortable to meet Adam and my new siblings in my own home.” I look James straight in the eye. “I never thought I’d have that again, but it really, truly feels like home here.” I worry my lip between my teeth. “The realization took me by surprise.”

  Keaton places his chin on my shoulder. “You will always have a home with us, right, Dad?”

  “Right, son.”

  The bench screeches as Brad gets up. “I, ah, better get ready for school.” He deposits his dishes in the dishwasher and practically sprints from the room.

  “Crap,” I exclaim. “That was really insensitive of me.” I allow Ky to pull me into a standing position.

  “It’s like standing on eggshells around here these last few months,” Kal supplies. “This family is so due a break.”

  “I second that,” James says.

  “I’m going to go talk to him. See if he’s okay.”

  “I’ll come with,” Ky says, but I shake my head.

  “Let me speak to him alone. He’s done so much for me at school, and I want him to know he can still talk to me anytime.” I kiss him on the cheek. “Besides, you lot need to get to school. I’ll catch you later.”

  I knock timidly on Brad’s door. “Brad, it’s me. Can I come in?”

  The door swings open, and I step into his bedroom. The room is pristine, with barely an item out of place. There are no personal effects of any sort, nothing that brands this as his domain. The room is beautifully decorated in shades of warm brown and cream, and the wooden furniture gives it a definite masculine feel. But it’s missing something. It’s impersonal and cold, and like stepping into a hotel room—a place that’s luxurious and comfortable but temporary.

  “Where’s all your stuff?” I blurt.

  He bends over the bed, placing some books into his bag. “I took what I needed and then stored most of the boxes in the garage when I moved in.”

  I walk over and plop down on the bed. “Is it because you see this as temporary?”

  “It is temporary, Faye. They’re not my family.”

  I reach out and touch his arm. “You’re more family than I am, Brad. Ky has told me how you and he spent virtually every minute together growing up, either here or at yours.”

  “That was in the past, and I can’t impose forever.” He sits down beside me. “Besides, I’ll be going to college next year, so there’s no point trying to put down roots.”

  “I’m sorry for what I said in the kitchen. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I know that, and it’s not your fault. I was being stupid.”

  “It’s not stupid, and I’m sorry if I’m making things uncomfortable for you here.”

  “Like I said, it’s not your fault.” He stands up, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “And I’d better leave or I’ll get another tardy. Need to keep my record clean if I’m to bag a scholarship. I’ll see you later.”

  He walks toward the door with purpose while the seeds of an idea are forming in my mind.

  I go to my room, spread my books out over my bed, and settle in for a couple hours of studying. When James pops his head in to let me know he’s going out for a bit, I wait about twenty minutes before I set my plan in motion. This may be overstepping the line a little, but if Brad gets mad, I can always put it back the way it was.

  I’m carting the last of the boxes I need to Brad’s room when the front doorbell chimes. Alex comes speeding around the corner from the direction of her home office like a woman on a mission. She opens the door and ushers a dozen men and women inside. “I’ll be having a lot of business discussions this week,” she explains, “so you can expect plenty of traffic in and out of the house. They are members of the Kennedy Apparel board, and we have some important things to discuss. We will most likely be sequestered in my office well into the early hours of the morning. I hope that won’t interfere with your studies,” she says, eyeing the brown cardboard box in my hands.

  “Not at all. Don’t mind me. Pretend you never saw me.”

  “I’m sure I don’t want to know what you’re up to, so I’ll happily take you up on that.” Her lips tug up as she spins on her heels and follows the members of her board down to her spacious office.

  I spend the rest of the afternoon rearranging Brad’s room in between peppering Ky with a ton of questions via text. I’ve just hung the last picture on the wall when a noise at the door startles me. Ky is lounging against the doorjamb, inspecting my handiwork. “Wow, you’ve been busy.” He strolls into the room, looking all around, before reeling me into his arms. “So, studying went well then?”

  I swat his butt. “This was more important. We haven’t done right by Brad, Ky, and we need to fix that. He doesn’t have any family, and he needs to understand he belongs here. Do you think he’ll like it?” I try to look at the room objectively, pleased that it’s lost that impersonal vibe.

  The bookshelves are crammed with Brad’s books and model airplanes, trophies, and sporting memorabilia. Photos and posters of motocross champs, bikes, and star football players are hanging on the walls. I placed a few framed photos of his family by his bedside, and I even hung the poster with the scantily clad models in bikinis on the ceiling over his bed.

  Ky flops down on the bed, chuckling as he stares up at it. “I definitely think he’ll appreciate that.”

  Lounging lengthways on the bed alongside him, I swat him on the chest this time. “I hope he won’t be cross. Won’t think I’ve overstepped the mark.”

  “Why would I think th—” Brad’s voice peters out as he glances around his modified bedroom. He says nothing, just stares, drinking everything in. Ky rubs soothing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb while a fluttery feeling builds in intensity in my chest.

  I bite down on my lip, before deciding to grab the bull by the horns. “Say something.” I laugh lightly. “Do you like it?”

  He runs the tip of his finger along the frame of one of the family photos by his bed. “Get out.” His voice is cold, undercut with anger.

  “I was only trying to he—”

  “I said get out,” he yells, not even looking at me.

  Ky springs up, eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare shout at Faye like that!”

  I swing my legs off the bed, tugging on Ky’s arm. “Don’t,” I mouth, shaking my head.

  Brad is hunched over his bedside locker, both hands gripping the wooden edge with stiff fingers, his body heaving with some unnamed emotion.

  I drag Ky to the door, pleading with him to ignore Brad’s emotive outburst. Before I close the door, I say, “I’m sorry, Brad. I thought it would help. I’ll put it all back tomorrow.”

  Ky is furious as he stomps to my room. “That was way out of line,” he fumes, kicking his shoes off and collapsing spread-eagled on the bed. He pats the space alongside him, and I
duly oblige.

  I curl into his side. “I shouldn’t have interfered. I thought it would help him feel more at home.”

  “You were only trying to help. He’s an ass.”

  “He’s lonely and upset,” I counter. “And I overstepped.” I can see that now, even though it seemed like a good idea earlier.

  Ky sighs after a couple of minutes. “I know, and you’re right. We haven’t given enough thought to his feelings.”

  “I have another idea.” I push up onto my knees.

  Ky groans. “I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Faye

  Brad doesn’t emerge from his room for the rest of the night. I ask Keaton to bring him a plate at dinnertime, and I’m glad that at least he accepted it, that he’s not starving to death. The following morning, he walks silently into the kitchen, grabs some fruit and a bottle of water from the fridge, and leaves without speaking a word to any of us. “Do you think I should put it back the way it was or just leave it?” I ask Ky as I’m kissing him goodbye in the garage.

  He pushes me against the side of his car, caging me in with his powerful arms. He kisses the tip of my nose. “I think you should leave it alone. Give him a bit more time to cool down, and then ask him if he would like you to return it to the way it was.”

  I cup his cheek. “Okay. You know him best.”

  Ky plants a soft kiss in that sensitive spot just under my ear, and I shiver all over. “I’m not sure I know him at all anymore,” he admits, dotting tiny kisses over my cheeks. “He’s saying jack shit about what’s going on with him, and he’s not acting like himself, so I don’t know what he’s thinking.”

  I push on his shoulders, and he lifts his head up. “Is this to do with me?”

  “Some of it is, yeah, but he’s got other stuff going on too. I wish he’d unburden himself to me, to someone. Has he said anything to Rose?”

  I shake my head. “No. He’s been closed off with her too. She’s worried about him.”