Kendall #3
“Don’t start with that shit,” he warned me.
He hated them, but I wasn’t exactly sure why.
He should have been happy someone had been willing to take me in, since he so clearly hadn’t wanted me around.
But I’d heard his bitter rants about Mr. Kensington especially, about what a pussy he was, and how he didn’t have a clue what it took to keep his family in line.
And that was without him having any idea that Mr. Kensington was the guy I called Dad.
I could see people at various distances were staring at us now, pointing and whispering. I felt blood rush up to my face, burning my cheeks while my vision started to blur at the corners.
“You never were normal,” he hissed. “Sneaking out any and all hours, like a damn dog in heat. You just couldn’t wait to get over there and spend the night with your best buddy, could you?”
He’d never wavered on his theory about Benji and I being more than friends, accusing me of all manner of offensive things, even when I’d been barely old enough to even fully comprehend what he’d been talking about.
Ironically, I’d never had a single moment with Benji that had fallen under the umbrella of the things he’d constantly accused us of doing.
And now I’d practically fucked his brother, the poster boy for traditional masculinity.
Rhys was the only Kensington my dad had ever respected.
I was pretty sure he’d drop dead from shock if he knew the star quarterback he’d always admired had come down my throat and painted my stomach after rutting his hips on me like a porn star.
“I’m not doing this,” I finally said. I was too fucking tired, and I’d already been toeing the line of mental stability before having this nightmare confrontation thrown in my face.
I hadn’t even considered that I might see them here.
They’d never cared about showing up to town events or being involved in the community.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” He snarled, and for a moment all the muscles in my body went stiff as I instinctively froze. I knew that voice. That was the final warning voice. “Your mom has things she wants to say to you and you’re going to plant your fucking feet and listen.”
“No, I’m not. I don’t owe either of you a fucking thing. And I don’t give a fuck what you have to say.”
His eyes widened with a shock I’d never seen in them.
I’d never stood up to him before. I wouldn’t have dared, for fear of what he might do to me.
But that Kendall was long gone, swept away by the years of experience I’d had away from them, and had my eyes opened to how other people in the world would feel about me. How I felt about myself.
And then when that shock faded into obvious anger, I regretted everything, instantly thrown back into the brain of my child self.
He moved toward me with the speed I remembered, and all I could do was flinch and brace for the impact.
It wouldn’t even be that bad. He wasn’t even drunk. I’d taken much worse hits.
“Hey, what the hell is going on?”
My eyes flew open, my brain swirling with confusion as it processed another very familiar voice to me.
There was a long shadow over my body, cast by who had stepped up behind me to catch my dad’s wrist. I felt all my breath leave my body in a tumble as I turned to stare up at Rhys.
But he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at my dad, his dark brows drawn together like he was trying to understand the situation.
“Now, Hayward.” Mr. Kensington, the man who’d become my real dad, the one who randomly texted me to check in and always made sure to get me one of those big plastic candy canes filled with Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups every Christmas because they were my favorite, stepped up and gently peeled Rhys’ hand away.
“Let’s not have words in front of the kids, huh?
He doesn’t want to talk. There’s no need to make a scene. ”
“Don’t try to tell me what the hell I can do with my own fucking son, Will. This has nothing to do with you.”
I felt shell-shocked, like I couldn’t form words or even thoughts, really.
Mr. Kensington glanced back at us with a pleasantly calm expression before speaking. “Rhys, why don’t you get Kendall out of here?”
Rhys finally looked at me. Just for a moment before his eyes darted away.
“Uh, yeah, Dad. We’ll go.”
“Do not walk away from me, Kendall,” my dad spit out, but Mr. Kensington smoothly moved between us as Rhys planted his hands on my shoulders to lead me away and toward the little lot where everyone had parked.
Every step of distance we moved away untangled one tiny portion of my guts, but the heady rush of having Rhys’ hands on me wasn’t letting my brain start working properly.
Was he mad that he had to do this, only because his dad had told him to?
Was he annoyed with me for acting like a scared kid?
Was he feeling resentful that he’d have to deal with me after I’d snapped at him the other day and been so unsympathetic about everything he was going through?
“We need to talk,” he murmured, confirming everything I’d worried about.
“Okay,” I answered wearily. I didn’t have the energy to face him, but I didn’t have a choice.
And whatever he wanted to say to me, I would deserve it anyway.