Finding Kyler (The Kennedy Boys #1)

by Siobhan Davis

  I cry for my parents.

  For my lost life.

  For the threat that Addison poses, scaring me in ways it shouldn’t.

  For a boy I can’t have and shouldn’t want.

  For the never-ending gut-wrenching hollow ache in my chest and the soul-crushing loneliness I feel.

  Out of everything, I cry hardest for the boy who is so fucked up in the head, he can’t help dragging others down with him. I did the right thing by pushing Ky away, because if I didn’t, I know he’d only drag me down too. Even still, the acknowledgments hit me hard, ripping my confidence and my resolve to shreds. Heartache collides with selfishness, and I feel utterly confused.

  My sobbing grows louder, but I’m powerless to halt it.

  The quiet click of the door alerts me to a foreign presence, but I can’t even summon the energy to tell Kyler to get lost. Arms wrap around me, hauling me into a warm chest. The crying continues unchecked as I look at Kalvin through blurry, red-rimmed eyes. He lifts me onto his lap, cradling me in his arms. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he croons, running his hand up and down my back in a soothing gesture.

  I nuzzle into his chest, clinging onto him, and gradually the crying lessens until it’s only the odd, intermittent pitiful sob. Silently, he hands me some tissues, and I blow my nose and mop up the excess moisture on my skin.

  Very gently, he stands—with me still in his arms—and places me on the bed. He helps me under the covers. Tucking the duvet under my chin, he sweeps damp strands of my hair off my face. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I nod in zombie-like fashion, shivering under the covers. Kalvin returns a few minutes later with a cup of hot chocolate. Helping me sit up, he holds the cup to my lips and coaxes me into drinking. The warming goodness sits like a lead balloon in my stomach, but gradually it takes the chill away. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  He looks at me with so much tenderness that it almost opens the well again. “Do you want me to stay? You look like you could use a friend right now.”

  “Is that what we are?” I whisper.

  A sad look crosses his face. “You shouldn’t have to ask that. Of course, I’m your friend. More than that, I’m your family.”

  I retract the covers, unable to speak over the sentimental lump in my throat.

  Kalvin holds me in his comforting embrace, and I fall asleep feeling slightly less alone in the world.

  Sometime in the early hours of the morning, he slips out of the bed, planting a delicate kiss to my forehead. Still half-asleep, I clasp his fingers and squeeze. I’m drifting off again when the sound of raised voices tickles my ears. But I’m too emotionally drained to care, let alone investigate. Unconsciousness overpowers me and I fall into a deep sleep.

  The smell of burnt eggs greets me the second I step foot in the kitchen the next morning. Kalvin is wafting his hand over a smoke-filled pan, scowling in frustration.

  I peer into the pan, wrinkling my nose at the congealed, blackened mess. “Shoo.” I gently push him. “I’ll cook breakfast,” I offer, remembering it’s Greta’s day off.

  “You’re the best.” He smacks his lips across my cheek, and I push him away more forcibly.

  “Less of the slobbering if you don’t mind.” I wipe my sleeve across my cheek.

  Keaton chortles from his seat at the table.

  Kalvin leans his chin on my shoulder. “I’ll have you know that many a girl wishes these lips were attached to their skin.”

  “I guess some girls just don’t know what’s good for them,” I joke, dumping the ruined pan and retrieving a clean one from the press.

  I clutch Kalvin’s wrist before he can pull away. Leaning up, I kiss his cheek. “Thank you for last night.”

  I’m expecting another brazen retort but he surprises me.

  “My brother is an ass, and I’m always here for you.” He gives me a quick hug. I should correct him. Last night wasn’t only about Ky, but I don’t want to get into the other stuff.

  “What are you two whispering about,” Keaton asks, sending me an inquisitive look.

  “Nothing,” we chime in unison, breaking into a joint laugh. Keaton scowls a little.

  I root around in the fridge, and a sudden craving hits me. “Would you guys eat pancakes?” I lean my hip against the door as I face my cousins.

  “I’m about ready to eat my hand off, so anything you’re offering sounds good to me,” Keaton remarks.

  “Pancakes it is.”

  I busy myself at the stove, as the rest of my cousins meander into the kitchen in dribs and drabs. I whip up some scones, on a whim, and shove them into the oven. Tiny, fiery shivers skate across my skin, and I don’t need to look up to know that Ky has arrived. My heart rate kicks up, as usual. With a trembling hand, I give the batter one last mix.

  “Something smells good.”

  I look up as Kaden enters the kitchen, rubbing his hands together. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  “I stopped by to have a chat with Ky.”

  He sends me a loaded look, and I stare back at him. Then the penny drops. “I see.” I sense Ky watching us from across the room.

  Kaden leans in close to my ear. “You can’t get involved. Ky and I will deal with it.”

  I lift a pancake out of the pan and slide it onto the warmed plate. “So you’re onboard with the blackmail plan?” I whisper.

  Kaden leans back against the counter, bracing his hands against the edge. Muscles bulge underneath the short sleeves of his shirt. “He told you about that?”

  “Yes.” I ladle some more batter into the pan.

  “I don’t agree that’s the best way forward, but there are some things you aren’t aware of.” He dips his head and talks in a low tone. “I’m not happy about this either, but there are legit reasons why Mom can’t find out. I’ll sort it. It’s what I do best.”

  I flip the pancake over in the pan, pondering his cryptic comment. Pushing wispy strands of damp hair back off my forehead, I turn to face him. “So I’m expected to lie to her face? To pretend like I’m not disgusted with your dad?”

  “I know you mean well, Faye, but this kind of crap is minor compared to some of the stuff that’s happened in the past. You’ll get used to it.” He pushes off the counter, licking his lips as he eyes the pancake mountain. “Is there enough for one more?”

  And like that, the subject is dismissed.

  “Sure. Have a seat. I’m about to serve up.”

  I place bowls with a variety of toppings in the center of the table, sliding two heaped platefuls of pancakes on either side. “Help yourselves.”

  “I saved you a seat,” Kalvin says, patting the space beside him on the bench. I squeeze in, and he places a protective arm around my shoulder. “This looks awesome. Thanks.” He sends a deliberately scathing look at Ky, and I wonder if he’s mad at him over last night or if some other drama has come between them.

  “You’re welcome. Now eat up before it gets cold.”

  The boys tuck in, demolishing everything in record time.

  I’m clearing away the plates when James walks into the kitchen. My eyes immediately wander to Ky, and we exchange a wary look. Kaden stiffens, doing little to hide his abhorrence.

  I wish I’d had more opportunity to get to know my eldest cousin, but he scarcely makes an appearance, and when he does, he spends most of his time glowering at his father. I’d love to know exactly what’s driving that dynamic. It must be something significant if he can hold onto his animosity for so long.

  Ky studies me with inquisitive eyes, and I avert my gaze, snapping out of my pensive inner monologue.

  Conversation is subdued around the table now.

  “Didn’t you boys leave me anything?” James asks, apparently oblivious to the simmering hostility. The triplets and Kalvin are eyeing Ky and Kaden with suspicion.


  Kalvin’s penetrating gaze meets mine again as I slip on some oven gloves. Crouching down, I remove the baking tray from the oven, sliding the hot goods onto a plate. I push it across the island unit to James. “I made scones if you want one of those.” I look at the counter, unable to stomach looking at him.

  He lifts a scone and holds it to his nose, sniffing appreciatively. “Saoirse used to make these for me all the time.” He’s choked with emotion, and it’s difficult not to react to that.

  Still avoiding his gaze, I glance at my feet as I mumble, “It’s Mum’s recipe.”

  “Tastes exactly how I remember it,” he adds quietly a couple of minutes later.

  Sobs begin to form at the back of my throat, and I flee the kitchen before I break down in front of everyone.

  I run outside the house, across the lawn, and race into the woods, aimless and uncaring. My heart is thundering in my chest as I stomp through the forest. I’m still vulnerable after last night, and I can’t halt the memories flooding my mind. Successive images of baking with Mum refuse to empty from my brain. Dad is there too, licking his lips and patting his full stomach, heaping praise on both of us. Tears prick my eyes, and I try to shove the visions away. Round and round, they turn on a loop, causing the pain in my heart to notch higher and higher, until I don’t think I can bear it any longer. I drop to my knees, desperately sucking air into my lungs.

  Breathe, Faye. In and out. In and out.

  Depression shrouds me like a thundercloud, and I start to wonder if I’ll ever be able to deal with their loss. If the grief will ever become manageable. Trying to shut it up clearly isn’t a workable strategy.

  Laughter rings out, and I latch onto the distraction with both hands. I scramble to my feet, wiping bits of debris off my hands. I walk in the direction of Lana’s bungalow, following the sound of voices. No one answers the door when I knock, so I follow the same path we took the last time and head around the back of the house.

  Lana is sitting outside alongside a girl with cropped jet-black hair. A row of studs frames the side of one ear, and she has a stud in her nose and one below her lip. Thick black liner surrounds her brown, almond-shaped eyes—eyes which are currently inspecting me from head to toe.

  “Faye!” Lana jumps up. “Come and join us.” She motions me over with a flick of her hand.

  “Sorry to interrupt. I was out walking, and I heard voices …” I skip up the steps and take the vacant seat beside the unfamiliar girl. Her gaze flits to mine, and the look she gives me is feral. Pity I’m too numb to care.

  “This is Zoe,” Lana pipes up. “She goes to my school.”

  I perk up in my chair. “I’m starting there tomorrow.”

  “So, it’s true?” Lana tucks her legs underneath her. “You are slumming it.”

  I send her a funny look. “Hardly. I went to public school back home.” Well, before we relocated to Dublin, that is, but I don’t want to get into the specifics.

  “Kennedys don’t do public,” Zoe interjects. There is a distinct lack of warmth in her tone.

  “I’m not a Kennedy. I’m a Donovan.”

  Her cheeks pucker. “Same difference. You’re their cousin, right?”

  She eyeballs me again, and the cold glare in her gaze pisses me off. “Did my cousins do something to you? Because you’re being a bitch, and that couldn’t have anything to do with me seeing as I’ve never met you before.”

  She pokes her tongue out the side of her cheek, and a slight grin curves up the corners of her mouth.

  “Zoe. Stop it,” Lana bluntly cautions her.

  She slouches in her chair, holding my gaze, and I’m still wondering what her problem is. “Your cousin’s a dick.”

  “Which one?”

  “Zoe!” Lana hisses, clearly annoyed. I cast a quick glance in her direction, noting how her mouth is set in a hard line as she glowers at her friend.

  “All of them,” Zoe replies, turning away from Lana to send me a challenging look.

  “That’s a little harsh. And don’t believe everything you hear.”

  “What if I’m hearing it from a reliable source?” She slants her head to the side.

  Lana jerks her foot out, accidentally knocking a half-empty glass of lemonade all over the place. She jumps up and runs into the kitchen.

  I lean forward in my seat, eyeballing Zoe. “Why do I get the sense there’s more to your statement than meets the eye?”

  “Because there is.”

  “Zoe. That’s enough,” Lana grits out, reappearing with a wad of paper towels. She begins mopping up the spillage. “You’re being very rude, and Faye has done nothing to deserve your sour attitude. If you can’t be polite, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

  I hold up my hand. “It’s okay. She’s entitled to her opinion.”

  Lana scowls, tossing a bundle of wet towels into the trash.

  “How charitable of you.” Zoe’s tenor is grating.

  Is there anyone my cousins haven’t had run-ins with?

  “That’s some serious chip you’re carrying. Be careful you don’t crumple under the weight.”

  She stiffens, pointing her finger at me. “Are you threatening me?”

  I arch a brow. “Should I be?”

  She laughs. “You’ve got spunk. I might decide to like you after all.”

  “Am I supposed to be honored or something? You’re really weird.” I prop my feet up on the edge of the table as she laughs again.

  “Speak of the devil,” Zoe murmurs under her breath as her head picks up.

  Lana’s cheeks flush as a familiar form rounds the corner. Kalvin has his trademark smirk firmly planted on his mouth as he ambles toward us, his hands tucked into his khaki shorts. He’s bare chested—again—and he has a black cap on backward. A white tee is stuffed in the back pocket of his shorts.

  “Did you want something, Kennedy?” Zoe is blunt in the extreme. “Because my tolerance is already waning.”

  “Do I need to remind you whose property you’re on, freak?”

  “A Kennedy throwing their weight around. Gee, there’s a new concept.” She throws up her middle finger, and I disguise my laughter as a cough. I’m starting to like this prickly chick.

  Kalvin stalks toward her, putting his face right in hers. “You know what your problem is, Davidson?” She opens her mouth, no doubt to retort, but Kalvin clamps her lips shut. Her face turns puce with barely restrained anger. “You are way too uptight. You need to get laid.” Kalvin taps a finger off his chin, pretending to think about it. “But therein lies the problem. No one wants to touch your skanky ass.”

  “Kalvin!” I grab his elbow, pulling him away from her. “That was downright mean. Apologize.”

  “She started it!”

  “What are you, like, five now?”

  He drags his hands through his hair. “I don’t need this shit. I only came to fetch you. Mom wants to talk to you.”

  Every muscle in my back cords into knots. “What about?”

  He gives me a quizzical look. “I don’t know. You worried?”

  I scratch the top of my head. “Nah.”

  Kalvin throws his arm over my shoulder and spins me around. “Well, let’s go then.” He doesn’t acknowledge the girls as he propels me forward.

  “Good riddance, asshole!” Zoe calls out, and I turn around in time to see her flip him the bird again. “Say hi to Addison for me.”

  I slam to a halt, shooting a stern look at Kalvin. “What’s she talking about?”

  “Keep walking,” he mumbles, propelling me forward with a ferocious look on his face.

  I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. Lana’s crestfallen look mirrors how I’m feeling inside.

  Why do I get the sense that something more is at play here?

  And more importantly, why does she look like
her world just ended?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When we reach the edge of the forest, and I’m sure we’re a safe distance from Lana’s house, I push Kalvin against the side of a tree, placing both my hands firmly on his chest. “Talk. Right now. And don’t bullshit me. What was all that about?”

  His chest visibly rises. Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he spits the words out as if they are physically paining him. “I slept with Addison.”

  I throw my hands in the air. “Why the fuck would you do that?” I’d had an inkling, but I was hoping I was wrong.

  “It wasn’t intentional!”

  I start pacing. “Oh, well, that makes it all right then,” I sneer. “I take it Ky doesn’t know about this.”

  “No, and he can’t.” He reaches out and takes my wrist. “Will you freaking stop!”

  “You’re an ass.” I glare at him. “No, you’re much worse than that. I don’t think there is a strong enough word in the English language to describe what you are.”

  “There is no insult you can level at me that I haven’t already thrown at myself. I was drunk off my ass when she pounced, and I know I should’ve tried harder to resist, but—”

  I clamp my hand over his mouth. “Please spare me the sordid details.”

  “I hate myself for it, and I wish I could take it back but I can’t.”

  I start pacing again, my mind churning possibilities. “Why would she sleep with you when she’s trying to get Ky back? What is she up to?”

  He takes my elbow and steers me out of the woods. “Walk and talk before Mom sends a search party out.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve done this, Kal. You know you’re going to have to tell him.”

  “No.” He shakes his head vehemently. “Absolutely not. It’ll kill him.”

  Keaton appears on the patio, gesturing us forward with a flourish of his hands.