Keaton drops down beside me, nudging me playfully. “Good choice, oh wise one,” he teases. “Now tell me what this’s about.”
“Promise you won’t tell a soul.” I twist my head so I’m facing him.
“Scouts honor.” He grins, showcasing his beautiful white teeth. His face is starting to fill out, and he’s losing that baby-faced look. He’s growing his hair longer on top, and that artfully messy style works for him. “You’re staring.”
“You’re really beautiful, Keaton.”
His eyes go wide in alarm, and I can’t contain my snort of hilarity. Trust him to jump to that conclusion. “I’m not hitting on you!” He pins me with an incredulous look, and I sigh. “Yeah. Let’s not go there. All I meant is you’re turning into a super-hot guy, Keaton. Girls are going to be crawling all over your ass, but don’t forget that you’re so much more than that. You have this inner beauty that shines through setting you apart from everyone else. You’re one in a million.” I get the fright of my life when tears blossom in his eyes. I prop up on one elbow. “Happy or sad tears?”
He sits up, crossing his legs in front of him. “Both. Always both.” An anguished expression contorts his face, and I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing anymore.
I frown, mirroring his position. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
His troubled eyes bore into mine, and I spot the conflict warring inside him. “I will. Just not yet.”
“Okay. I’m here whenever you want to talk.” I envelop him in a quick hug. “I love you, you know that, right?”
He smiles warmly at me. “I know, and I love you, too. Like a sister, not like …”
I roll my eyes, nudging him in the ribs. “I know that, doofus.”
“You still love him, don’t you?” he asks quietly.
I scratch the top of my head. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yeah, to be honest, it is. I see how hard you try not to look at him, but when you do, it’s all there. You’re too genuine a person to hide how you’re feeling.”
I groan. “Great. Now, I’m a laughingstock as well as everything else.”
He shakes his head. “He still loves you, too. I know my brother. He may be better at hiding it, but he’s hurting like hell too.”
I grind down hard on my teeth. “Could’ve fooled me. He’s hot and heavy with Addison again, and now he doesn’t give me the time of day. Ugh!” I grip bunches of my hair as I sigh. “Why can’t I love Brad and forget about Ky? It would be so much easier that way.” I bury my face in my hands.
“That’s what this is about?” Keaton coaxes.
“We kissed and …” I lock my arms around my knees, struggling to find the right words.
“And it was hot? Or not?” He cocks his head to the side.
“It was good …”
“Ouch. Poor Brad.” He’s fighting a smirk.
“Knock it off, dipshit. This is my life I’m making a complete mess of. Have some compassion.” I roll my eyes so he’s knows I’m semi-joking. “It felt good to have someone’s arms around me, to feel the warmth of his touch and the taste of his mouth. To know someone cares. And it was a great kiss, but I didn’t feel the same spark that I feel when I kiss your brother. Now, all I can think about is how much I miss kissing Ky and what a horrible person I am to give Brad hope where there’s none.”
“Awks.” Keaton sends me a sympathetic look.
“I know, and it’s worse, because Ky witnessed the whole thing.”
Keaton stuffs a hand in his mouth in a feeble attempt to mask his reaction.
“Glad someone finds it amusing,” I snark, as he loses the fight, and his laughter fills the room. “I’ve fucked everything up! Agh!” I nestle my face in my knees, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me.
“Sorry,” Keaton says, sounding in no way apologetic. “You’ve got to admit it’s funny.”
I growl at him. “Excuse me if I don’t see the funny side. I’m worried that I’ve ruined our friendship, and Brad probably hates me for making him do that to Ky again.” I flop back down on the ground, sighing. “I’m a bleedin’ disaster zone.”
Keaton lightly chuckles. “You put the rama in drama,” he jokes, and I punch him in the arm.
“That’s mean. I didn’t ask to fall in love with my cousin, and I didn’t ask for that kiss. Brad kinda backed me into a corner, and now I have two people to avoid in this house.”
“Good luck with that,” he says with a wink.
Ugh. It’s official.
My life sucks.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I wake abruptly in the early hours of the morning with my salty tongue stuck to the top of my mouth. Thanks to my monster binge-eating session, I’m parched and in dire need of water. I pad quietly in my bare feet toward the kitchen, stifling a yawn as I pass through the lobby. I stop in my tracks when the sound of voices filters out from the living area. I’d recognize Ky’s and Brad’s husky tones anywhere. I flatten my back to the wall and creep as close to the doorway as I dare.
“I’m sorry I hit you,” Ky says, and I roll my eyes.
“I probably deserved it,” Brad replies.
“No, you didn’t.” There’s a brief pause. “And you’re right. I have no claim over her. Faye’s free to kiss whomever she likes.” His words batter my fragile heart.
“I swore I’d never do that to you again.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong, man. If I’m not with her, I’d rather it be you. I know I can I trust you to look after her, to treat her right.”
My nostrils flare at the insinuation. Like I’m some possession they can swap between them when it suits and that all we need is his approval which he’s so graciously giving to us. Who does he think he is?
“It doesn’t matter, anyway. She doesn’t want me.” Brad’s tone suggests disappointment and acquiescence but no malice.
“That wasn’t the way it looked to me,” Ky says, confirming he definitely saw the kiss.
“She’s in love with you.”
“She can’t be!” Ky snaps, carving another piece out of my heart. “Hasn’t she listened to a word I’ve said? She needs to move on, and you’re the guy to move on with. Do you want me to talk some sense into her?”
That does it.
His patronizing tone combined with his misguided rationale and the implication that I’m the one not thinking clearly summons the beast slumbering inside me. Uncaring that I’m in a flimsy nightie or that I’ll be admitting I was eavesdropping, I charge into the room, flipping on the main light so they can both see the extent of my venom.
Seated across from one another on the leather couches, they blink at me in shocked surprise. I stalk toward Ky, pushing him in the chest. “I do not need anyone to talk sense into me, least of all you!” I screech. “How dare you presume to know what I want or what I need. You have no right!”
“Faye.” Brad stands up, and I lunge at him, shoving him back down on the couch.
“And you’re no better!” I’m shrieking like a hyena, and I’ll probably wake the entire house but I don’t care. I can’t see beyond the red glaze coating my eyes. “You think you can get his permission and I’ll fall into your arms?”
“No! It wasn’t like that.” Brad tries to argue but I shut him up with one of my special death glares.
“I heard enough to know that he was trying to pawn me off on you.” I jab my finger in Ky’s direction, incensed to see a dark, amused glint in his eyes. “Wipe that smug look off your face, Ky, or I’ll do it for you.” I glare at him, and his smirk grows wider. “Do you have a death wish?” I snarl.
He stands up, moving carefully but confidently toward me. “Baby, you know I find it hot when you’re mad.”
I totally lose the plot, shoving him forcefully as I yell in frustration. He makes a grab for me, losing his b
alance in the process, and we both tumble to the ground. I land unceremoniously on top of him with a groan. I straddle him as I sit upright, prodding my finger repeatedly in his annoyingly perfect chest, furious to see the lustful glaze in his eyes, to feel the telltale bulge hardening under my ass. “You don’t get to flirt with me, to call me baby, or hot, or anything!” I climb to my feet. “Save it for your girlfriend!”
I back away, scowling at both of them. “I want nothing to do with either of you. Understood?”
Brad gets up. “Faye, I’m sorry. Come on.”
I sway a little, my limbs weakening now that the surge of rage-induced adrenaline is dissipating. “Leave me alone, Brad. Both of you. Stay away from me.”
I stomp to the kitchen, yank a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, and storm back to my room, avoiding the penetrating stares of both boys as I walk past the sitting room with my nose held high in the air.
It takes me ages to fall back asleep. Lingering tendrils of frustration occupy my mind, making sleep almost impossible. But, eventually, at some point, I drift off.
I get up Saturday morning, my limbs still seething with anger, and haul ass to the pool for a swim. I vent my frustration in the water, pushing my body for hours until every muscle twinges. Then I spend the rest of the day hiding like a coward in my room. In the cold light of day, I cringe as I recall last night’s confrontation, furious that I let either of them get to me like that. Neither of them dares to show his face, and I’m grateful for small mercies.
A heavy thud on my door late afternoon sends my blood pressure into orbit. “Can I come in?” Kal asks, and I emit a relieved sigh.
“It’s open.” He ambles into the room with his shoulders drooping. “What’s happened?” I automatically ask, my stomach plunging to my toes.
“I met with the legal team. They weren’t able to get the case dismissed at the pre-hearing, and we’ve been issued a trial date.” He lies sideway on the bed, propping his head up on an elbow. “November fifteenth.”
“That’s good news, right? It’s only a few weeks away.”
“It is, and it isn’t. Dad pulled some strings to rush the case through, and I’m glad I’m not facing months and months of house arrest, but if it doesn’t go my way on the day, I could be in jail this time next month.”
“Surely Zoe’s testimony will prove you’re being set up?”
“It’s not that straightforward, according to the attorneys. The prosecution is taking statements from the girls at school, and they’re not painting a pretty picture. And Lana produced the condom we used.”
“That proves nothing! Only that you had sex which you aren’t disputing.”
“Her mother is insisting she was a virgin and that she’d never have agreed to sex before marriage.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Did we return to the dark ages and I missed the memo somewhere along the way?”
“Greta will make a great character witness, and she’s a devout Catholic. Lana has been brought up respecting her faith, so it’s pretty much going to come down to my word against hers. You haven’t read her statement, Faye. It’s vicious—she isn’t holding back, and it’s primed to tug the heartstrings. She’s going to have the jury eating out of her hand. I’m as good as guilty. She must truly hate me now.”
I lie on my belly with my elbows digging into the duvet. “I still can’t get over how she’s doing this to you. No matter how much her heart hurts, she’s no right to screw with your life like this.” I lift my legs and cross my ankles, swirling them through the air.
“I wish I could talk to her, discover what’s going on in her head, but Keven is drawing a blank.” My eyes ask the unspoken question. “Dad has a private investigator on the case, but Ky also asked Keven to run a trace. It’s like she’s evaporated into thin air.”
“People who don’t want to be found are usually adept at hiding.” My thoughts drift to my mother. While she wasn’t physically missing, there’s no doubt she was an expert at hiding. “Maybe you can get to talk to her at the trial?”
He sighs. “I’m not allowed to even look at her.”
“This sucks.”
He barks out a laugh. “That’s the frigging understatement of the year.” His laugh withers up and dies. “I don’t want to end up in prison.” Naked terror is evident on his face, and he looks so young and vulnerable.
“You won’t. You didn’t do this.”
“There are plenty of examples of men who were locked up for years for crimes they didn’t commit. Who’s to say I’ll be any different? It’s a very real possibility and one I’ve got to consider.” He flops down on his back, rubbing his hands over his face. “Rape is up to twenty years in state prison. This could ruin my life.”
I roll over and lay my head on his shoulder. “No one is going to let you take the rap for something you didn’t do. We’ll sort something out, or other evidence will come forward. Keven will find something to help.”
As the words filter out of my mouth, I detect the desperation in my voice. How can I expect Kal to believe my reassurances when I barely trust in them myself?
Rose calls to let me know the diner has reopened and to ask if I can work tonight. If she was here, I’d kiss the heck out of her. This is exactly what I need to keep my mind off tomorrow.
Max pulls up in front of the diner at the same time Theo, Rose’s boyfriend, drops her off. I give him a wave as he peels off up the road on his bike. I lean in to give Rose a quick hug, but her concerned frown holds me back. “’Sup?”
She sidesteps me, squinting as she looks behind me. “Is that guy taking photos of you?”
I spin around too fast, making myself dizzy. My jaw slouches when I spot the well-dressed man at the other side of the road, hastily pocketing a camera. “Oh my God!” I turn blazing eyes on Rose. “It’s that customer—the guy who asked for me the other week. I knew it! My gut told me he was up to no good.” I make a split-second decision and race across the road, shouting at him. “Hey! Mark! Stop!” He is already halfway down the street by now, and he doesn’t turn around. I give chase, but by the time I turn the corner at the end of the road, I only see the back of his head as he rounds the next bend. It’s time to call it quits—I’ll never catch up to him now.
I’m absolutely fuming when I push through the door into the diner. The place is jam-packed and thriving. Either people have genuinely missed the food, or they’re here for a gander at David. The thought is abhorrent, but there’s a definite element of this community that feeds off gossip and drama, so I can’t say I’m surprised.
We are rushed off our feet keeping up with the orders, but I couldn’t be happier. I know I’m weird, but I genuinely missed work. I’m the type of person who likes to keep busy, and if I have too much downtime on my hands, I don’t know what to do with myself.
Rose and I are sorting out bills at the counter when I feel eyes on me. Slowly, I turn around, my eyes widening when I spot David, standing in the doorway, staring at us. It’s the first time he’s come out of his office all night. His pants are loose around his paunch, and his wan face looks gaunt. The expression on his face is like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. A stilled awareness has invaded the diner, and conversation dies out. But David doesn’t appear to see anyone. He’s in his own little bubble, staring blankly ahead. My heart goes out to him. He’s just standing there, staring at us, without moving or speaking.
I move toward him, cautiously placing an arm on his elbow. “David, are you okay? Can I get you anything?”
He turns dull eyes on me, staring at me until a spark of something ignites in his eyes. He pats my hand. “You’re a good girl.” Leaning in, he kisses my cheek. “Always such a good girl.” He pats my hand one final time, giving me a weak smile, before retreating to his office.
“That wasn’t weird or anything,” Rose deadpans. “He shouldn’t be here. H
e’s isn’t well enough to return to work.”
“I agree. Maybe we should phone his wife?”
“I don’t have her number. Provided he stays out back, he’s not doing any harm to anyone but himself, I suppose.”
I’m completely knackered when I arrive home close to midnight. Rose and I offered to lock up, all but shoving David out the door, insisting he go home. I yawn as I drop my bag in the hall and head into the kitchen. Everywhere is in darkness, and I flip the lights on in the kitchen, cursing under my breath when I see the state of the place. The kitchen is a mess. As usual. My cousins are the biggest slobs on the planet. Would it kill them to put their dishes in the dishwasher? Animals. I’d thought that Alex would have gotten herself together by now, but she still’s hiding herself away in her bedroom, barely showing her face in the house let alone contemplating going to work. She couldn’t be any less like the woman I first met if she was trying. While I am sorry for everything she’s going through, she has to snap out of it, and soon.
I start clearing up, yawning as I stack the dishwasher.
“You don’t have to do that,” Ky says. He’s cowering in the shadows of the utility room, leaning against the doorjamb.
I shriek, slapping a hand across my chest, right where my heart is galloping in sheer terror. “Don’t frighten me like that. Jeez.” I rub the aching spot on my chest. He hobbles into the room, and I gasp. Dried blood is caked on his face and congealed above his lip from an obvious nose injury. His left eyelid is swollen, and the surrounding skin is mottled and discolored. I can already see the beginnings of a black eye forming. Faint bruising dots his right cheekbone. He limps to the table, easing onto the bench. “Who’d you fight this time?” I’m praying he hasn’t gone another round with Brad.
“It’s nothing you need to worry about.” He spits a mouthful of blood into a dirty bowl on the table, and I rummage in the overhead press, retrieving the first aid kit.
“Don’t patronize me.” I walk toward him, shaking my head. “If you want my help, you’ll spill.”
Losing Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 2) Page 21
