Finding Kyler (The Kennedy Boys #1)

by Siobhan Davis

  James curses. He crouches down on his heels, swaying slightly as he inspects me. “I’m so sorry, Faye. Didn’t see you there. Are you okay?” I instinctively shrink back from his stinking whiskey breath.

  “What di …” Kyler marches into the lobby, his speech trailing off as he spots his dad and me.

  James struggles to get to his feet, and Kyler’s face contorts sourly. He extends his hand to help me up, but I ignore it, and him, scrambling to my feet by myself.

  “Get to bed, both of you, it’s late.” James voice is slurred, and Kyler’s face twists into an ugly sneer.

  “You’re an asshole.” His acidic tone cuts right through me.

  “I am your father,” James grits out between clenched teeth. “And you will RESPECT me!” He roars the last part, and I flinch a little.

  I start to maneuver around them, not wanting to get caught in the middle of whatever’s going on here. James sways again as he tries to straighten up. He is steaming drunk. My eyes roam over him in amazement. He’s wearing a slim-fit black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, trendy slim-fitting jeans, and black sneakers. All his clothing bears the signature K symbol—of course—but that’s not what’s surprising. He’s dressed exactly like his sons, and, to be honest, he looks absurd. That old chestnut, Mutton dressed as lamb, springs to mind. I briefly wonder if he’s going through some type of mid-life crisis.

  “I will respect you,” Kyler says through gritted teeth, “when you have earned that right.”

  James jabs his finger into Kyler’s chest. “I have sacrificed everything for you! For this family! And this is the thanks I get?!”

  “What have you ever given me?” Kyler pushes his angry face into James’.

  “I gave up my life, and none of you give a shit.”

  “You are frigging pathetic. A sorry excuse for a father. A husband. Maybe it’s time Mom knew what a whoring, cheating slime ball she’s married to.”

  My eyes bounce from Kyler to James as aggression and hostility drives a further wedge between them.

  “Where were you tonight?”

  “That’s none of your business, Kyler.” Kyler squares up to him. “Go on, I dare you.” James rather stupidly challenges his son. Kyler’s jaw clenches and unclenches, and James barks out a laugh. “Yeah. Didn’t think so. Maybe the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree?”

  “I am nothing like you! NOTHING!” Kyler shoves his dad as he yells at him, and I gasp, drawing both their attention. I think they had forgotten I was here.

  James takes a step back, dragging his hands through his hair as he curses again. “Go to bed, both of you. We’ll discuss this in the morning.” Ignoring us, he stumbles toward the kitchen.

  Kyler is pumped to explode. I see it in the rigid way he holds his body and the barely restrained expression on his face. An unbidden urge to comfort him accosts me, but I push it away. Much like he did to me minutes earlier. Humiliation regurgitates in the pit of my stomach, and I welcome it, using it to swat my empathy away.

  I push off the wall and start walking toward my bedroom. Kyler’s quiet footsteps follow me, and a dangerous aura bleeds into the air. My hand is clasped around the door handle, when Kyler grips my elbow, swinging me around to face him. His rage is still boiling away underneath the surface, and the look in his eyes scares me a little. I’m not sure what he notices on my face, but his look softens. “Don’t try to fit in here,” he says quietly, “because you don’t belong. You shouldn’t belong. You should leave.” He stares at me, letting his words settle. Perhaps he’s waiting for a hostile reaction, but he can wait until the cows come home for all I care. I’m too tired and upset to enter into another battle with him. He strokes my cheek once and then walks away.

  He’s a mass of contradictions. Unfortunately, that only seems to enhance his appeal.

  I’m one sick bitch, that’s for sure.

  Shuffling into my room, I climb into bed as if on autopilot. Even though the covers are tucked right up under my chin, I can’t stave off the violent trembling that has taken hold of me. Everything that’s transpired today plays on a continual loop in my head until, eventually, exhaustion consumes me and I conk out.

  Both James and Kyler lay low the next day, obviously licking their wounds, and I’m glad. I still haven’t figured out what the hell is going on between Kyler and me and Kyler and his dad, and I don’t want or need any more drama. If what Kyler insinuated is true, James has gone downhill in my estimation. So far, he has been an absolute gentleman—but last night I witnessed a different side to him.

  A side that I don’t much care for.

  Not for the first time, I question why I didn’t do a bunk before he even showed up to claim me. Perhaps I should’ve sought a second legal opinion, and contested my parents’ will. Maybe I accepted this guardianship far too easily.

  I hope I won’t regret the decision to come and live here.

  Already, it feels like I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.

  I take a lengthy swim, allow Keaton to teach me how to play NBA on Xbox, and concoct a pasta bake and salad for lunch. Cooking has always helped calm me down, and I desperately need that today.

  At four p.m., I am leaving the house for my trial shift at the diner when Alex’s assistant, Courtney, arrives. I stop in my tracks, assuming she’s here for me. Her features are pinched, and her face looks glum as she steps into the lobby. “What?” she hisses, noticing my gaze.

  “Do you need me for something?”

  “The world doesn’t revolve around you,” she snaps, and I’m taken aback at the resentment in her tone. Surely, that can’t be directed at me? I’m struck by the sense that she’s doing this job out of necessity rather than any genuine love for it.

  As Max drives me to work, I’m nervous but excited. I’m actually delighted to be getting out of the stifling atmosphere in the house. Alex and Keanu are returning tonight, and I’m hoping that the ambience will have improved by the time I get back.

  But it’s more than that. It feels great to have a job again. To have a purpose and something productive to occupy my time. I’ve worked, in some capacity, since I was fourteen, and I like it—the freedom and the empowerment that comes from earning my own cash.

  Rose greets me with a big smile when I arrive. “I thought you might chicken out.” She hands me a uniform.

  “Why on earth would you think that?” I ask, hugging the clothes to my chest.

  “I’m wondering why you’re doing this. It can’t be that you need the money.”

  I’m thinking that’s a little too nosy from someone who’s still pretty much a stranger. She was affable last night, and she seems like the type I could become friends with, but I don’t know her from Adam. “I have my reasons,” is all I offer up.

  “’Kay,” she says pleasantly, not put out by my obvious evasion.

  I change in the small locker room out back. The red-and-white striped knee-length dress and matching apron is not the height of fashion, but it’s comfortable and practical, and I can live with it.

  Rose shows me the ropes, explaining how things work and showing me where everything is. In between training, she serves customers at the counter while the other waitress on duty attends to the customers seated at tables. After a half hour, she sends me out on the floor, and I get to it.

  Time flies by, especially as the tables start to fill up. Friday and Saturday nights are their busiest times. Nothing like throwing the newbie into the deep end. But I’m enjoying it, and I think I’m going to like working here, if I get through this trial.

  “Hey, you. Servant girl,” a sharp female voice says, and my head whips up. Addison is seated with three other girls at a booth in my section, holding her hand aloft in the air. “Oh, silly me. What was I thinking?” She looks to her friends, and they all feign apologetic looks. “I meant to say waitress,” she adds, keeping u
p whatever charade she’s playing. “That just slipped out. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

  I might if she’d offered up a genuine one. All manner of catty remarks lie impatiently on my tongue, but I won’t do anything to jeopardize this job, so I swallow my bitchy retorts and smile sweetly at her instead. “No problem. What can I get you?”

  “We’ll all have The Works Burger with fries and extra onions and cheese,” Addison confirms, and my brows lift in surprise. Judging by the minuscule amount of clothing they are wearing, and the abundance of skinny limbs on display, I was expecting them to order water and fresh air. “Is there some problem with that?” She dares me to challenge her.

  “Nope. I got it.”

  “Thank you, Faye.” She smiles sweetly, and I bristle at her use of my name. Keaton never divulged that information, and I’m fairly certain Kyler didn’t bring me up in conversation. Gauging her intent, I can tell she wants me to know she’s been asking around about me. That doesn’t bode well. But hell, I knew this was coming. At least I know now that Rose was solid in her advice.

  “No problem, Addison.”

  “Is she hassling you?” Rose asks, when I duck under the counter.

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Cool.” Rose gives me an approving smile as I head to the register to input the order into the system.

  Twenty minutes later, I slide two burgers in front of Addison and the redhead seated beside her while Rose carefully places plates in front of the other two girls.

  “What is that?” Addison inspects the food with a look of sheer revulsion on her face. You’d swear I just handed her a plate full of arsenic.

  “The Works Burger with fries and extra onions and cheese, exactly as you ordered.” I keep my voice level.

  She sends me a scathing look. “Do I look like I’d ever consume that amount of saturated fat?” She gestures toward herself while the other girls push their plates away in disgust.

  Damn it! I knew she was up to something. I should’ve trusted my gut.

  I know I should act professionally, but screw it; she has probably cost me my job. I have no cash to pay for this wasted food, and there’s no way I’m tapping James to come bail me out. He doesn’t want me working here, so I doubt he’d cough up, preferring if I got my ass fired.

  “I figured you’d puke it up later.” An outraged look washes over Addison’s face. “Isn’t that usually what you do?” I say, angling my head to the side.

  “I wouldn’t subject this body to that sort of abuse, and shame on you for suggesting it.” The other girls all tut-tut their disapproval. “Not that I expect someone like you to understand.” She skims my body in obvious disdain.

  “Oh, I understand all right. I know exactly what’s going on here.” I cross my arms over my chest as I let her see my game face.

  Her eyes glimmer maliciously. “Oh, goodie. I’m really going to enjoy this year.”

  The challenge is set.

  Let the games begin.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I send her a malicious smile. “You know what, I think I will, too. I can’t wait to see you get what’s coming to you.”

  Throwing back her head, she cranks out an exaggerated laugh. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.” An evil glint darkens the green hue of her eyes.

  I bend over the table, putting my face right in hers. “Right back at ya. Do your worst, bitch. I’ve faced bigger threats than you.”

  “Yeah, I’m definitely going to enjoy this,” she rasps, smiling as if all her Sundays have come at once. Extending her neck like a giraffe, she wiggles her fingers in the air, attracting my boss’s attention. “David. A word, please.” She clicks her fingers as if he’s at her sole beck and call. “I’d like to make a complaint.”

  David approaches, looking from Rose and me to Addison and her friends. “What exactly is the problem, Ms. Sinclair?”

  She pats his arm and her fingers linger on his skin. “How many times, David.” She emits a girlish giggle, and a sudden violent urge sweeps over me. How I’d love to wipe that sickly sweet smile off her face. “Call me Addison. All my friends do.”

  I roll my eyes the same time Rose does, and we share a conspiratorial smile. Shame I’m going to lose this job. I would’ve enjoyed working with her.

  “I know your waitress is new, and clearly struggling to grasp the concept of the job, but how anyone is dumb enough to mix salads with burgers is actually quite shocking,” she tells him. “Don’t your staff have to pass some form of basic intelligence testing before you inflict them on unsuspecting customers?”

  You’d swear I was working for NASA, not the bloody local diner, for flip’s sake. Addison is testing every last one of my nerves. And we haven’t even started the fun and games in school yet.

  I swallow the bile in my throat as David fusses over her, apologizing profusely and gesturing at Rose and me to clear the table.

  I hold my head up high as I walk away with the offending plates.

  “We’ll take those off your hands,” a husky masculine voice says. I look up into gorgeous blue eyes I’ve seen before. It’s the same guy I saw the first day in the diner, the blond jock who was hanging back from the crowd. I think he was at the party last night too, although I can’t be one hundred percent sure on that.

  “You will?”

  “Sure,” one of the guys behind him says. “We’re totally famished. Hand ‘em over.”

  Rose winks at me, and I grin. Problem somewhat solved.

  The blond guy slides into the booth beside his buddy, and I set the plates down in front of them. I grace him with a massive smile. At this moment, he’s the equivalent of my own personal knight in shining armor. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smiles back at me, a real genuine smile without any hidden depth or meaning. It’s kind of refreshing. He’s kind of refreshing. “By the way, I’m Brad.”

  “Faye.”

  “What the hell, Brad?” Addison’s heels tap noisily off the tiled floor as she stomps toward the booth. “What are you doing?”

  He motions toward the table. “Eating. What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “That’s not your order!” she fumes.

  “No, you’re right. It’s yours.”

  “So you did order this?” David asks, also approaching. “What’s going on, Addison?”

  “Nothing, David.” She grabs his arm, bamboozling him with that faux sugary smile of hers. “I guess it’s lucky for your waitress that she managed to resolve her fuck-up.”

  I ignore the dig, happy to take this win.

  I give Brad one last smile before heading to join Rose at the counter. “That was awesome,” she says.

  “I know. Although, she’s only going to have it in for me worse now, right?”

  “I doubt it’ll make much of a difference. I wonder why Brad did that.” She looks reflective.

  “You know him?”

  “Yeah, he’s t—”

  “A word, please, Faye,” David says, officially ending our convo.

  Rose gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before I follow him into his office. “Sit down,” he barks. I drop into the seat, preparing myself to be fired. “I don’t know what went on out there, but if you have some issue with Addison Sinclair, you need to keep that out of my restaurant.”

  “I don’t have any issue with her. I arrived in this country a week ago, and I’ve only met her briefly a couple of times. She’s the one who seems to have an issue with me.”

  Leaning back in his chair, he scrutinizes me, and I hold my breath waiting for his decision. “Very well, but I can’t have a repeat of that.”

  “I understand, and there won’t be.”

  “Apart from that incident, I think things have gone very well. If you are still interested in the job, it’s yours.”
<
br />   I sit forward in my seat, my eyes lighting up. “I am, and that’s great. Thank you so much.”

  “I’ll need you Friday and Saturday nights and short shifts on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Give your details to Rose before you leave tonight. Provided everything is in order, you can start straightaway.”

  I’m so glad Alex had the wherewithal to rush through my paperwork and that there’s no impediment to commencing work immediately. I stand up. “Thank you, David. I won’t let you down.”

  I give Rose a thumbs-up when I return, and she high-fives me.

  The rest of the shift passes by without incident. I didn’t get to see Brad leaving, to thank him again for helping me out of a hole. Thankfully, Addison and her group of bitches had left by the time I exited David’s office.

  It’s after eleven when I get back to the house, and I’m bone-weary from being on my feet for hours, but it’s a happy weary. Despite the incident with Addison, for the first time since I got here, I feel like I might adjust. Like I could fit in.

  James is pacing the corridor when I step through the door. “Can we talk?”

  I drop my bag on the ground. “Sure.”

  He guides me into his study. “I wanted to apologize for last night and for not seeking you out this morning.” I figured he was managing the mother of all hangovers. Either that or hiding from me. I sink into a seat while he props his ass against the edge of the desk. He knots his hands in front of him, and I try to smother my laugh at the get-up he’s wearing today. You would think the man married to the CEO of Kennedy Apparel would dress more age-appropriate. “You shouldn’t have seen me like that or borne witness to that argument. That wasn’t fair on you,” he says, and I drag my eyes away from his skinny jeans and form-fitting T-shirt combo.

  “If I’m going to be a part of this family, you won’t be able to shelter me from normal family stuff.”

  He crosses his feet at the ankles. “No, I suppose I won’t, but I doubt it’s what you’re used to.”