9. Kaylor
9
KAYLOR
I woke up with a string of text messages on my new phone. “Shit,” I mumbled, scanning through them.
Hello?
Kaylor? You good?
Where are you?
I’m starting to worry.
Should I be worried?
They were all from Carson, but I could assume Kenny had been with him when he started blowing up my phone. I’d been so disappointed, angry, and exhausted when Evan hauled me upstairs that I’d gone straight to bed, kicking off just my shoes, not bothering to change out of my clothes.
I quickly sent him an apology, letting him know I got caught sneaking out. He replied to my message seconds later.
Carson: We waited for hours, and you never showed. Do I need to call the cops? Are you being held hostage? Have you been sex trafficked like those other two girls? Should we be worried?
His response shouldn’t have made me smile, but it was just like Carson to jump to the worst-case scenario, but in this instance, he wasn’t that far off. Or I was being paranoid. The mention of those two girls who had been missing for months unsettled my stomach, a tragedy that hit too close to home.
Me: No, I’m okay.
Carson: Seriously?
Me: Seriously. I’ll call you later. We can talk.
Carson: If you don’t, I’ll be on your doorstep, raising hell.
Me: I’d expect nothing less. Tell Kenny not to worry.
Carson: Tell her yourself when you call.
I rolled my eyes. Such a Carson thing to say.
The mention of cops reminded me I needed to check in with the detective on my parents’ case to see if there had been any developments. I wasn’t sure I trusted Donovan to relay all the details. I wanted direct contact from the source.
Tossing my phone onto the bed, I ran a hand through my hair, glancing about my room—a room I was growing to detest. Dabbles of morning light streamed through the massive window. It would be too easy to roll over and go back to bed. Sleeping was the only way to numb the constant pain that constricted my chest.
But if I wanted to uncover the truth, even if I had to get answers myself, I had to get out of this house. I didn’t know the first thing about being a detective, but there were answers waiting to be discovered. I just had to ask the right questions and talk to the right people.
None of which I could do from bed.
I swung my legs over the side of the mattress just as the intercom in my room beeped. “Mr. Corvo would like you to join him for breakfast in ten minutes,” a voice announced through the speaker. Amelia, if I had to guess.
“Wonderful,” I grumbled, padding to the intercom and responding with a quick fine.
Ten minutes didn’t give me much time. Donovan would have to deal with my rumpled, sleepy appearance. I didn’t bother to change but headed downstairs still in my flannel bottoms and oversized T-shirt after a quick use of the bathroom. As my toes touched the hardwood floors of the first level, voices carried from down the hallway.
I followed the boisterous sounds, growing in volume with each step I took, but when I came close to the dining room, I paused. Donovan and I weren’t having breakfast alone. I knew those voices. I recognized those twisted degrees of laughs. His sons.
Amelia caught me staring at the archway, seconds away from turning and bolting back to my room. Before I could run, she placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and guided me inside. “They’re waiting for you. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
Her chatter, however fleeting, took my mind off the thought of having breakfast with the Corvo family. Until I had four sets of eyes on me and the volume in the room went from rowdy to deafeningly quiet.
I swallowed, hating being put in the spotlight.
With a gentle squeeze on my shoulder, Amelia piloted me around the table to an empty seat. I never felt more of an outsider than I did at this moment, slipping into the chair across from Kreed. His silver eyes were hard as he stared at me over platters of scrambled eggs, sausage, French toast, bacon, hashbrowns, toast, and fruit. I never ate this much in the morning and definitely not before I had a healthy dose of caffeine.
“Could I have a coffee?” I glanced behind me to ask Amelia before she could make herself scarce.
She gave me a friendly smile, her eyes softening sympathetically. “Of course. I’ll be back in a moment.”
The tension hovering over the table was the same feeling I got when I did something bad, like I was about to get in trouble.
Shit.
Last night.
Donovan knew.
I shot Kreed a narrowed look. Had he told his father, or had it been Evan?
It was far too early to deal with the fallout of my actions last night.
Shifting in my chair, I tried to ignore the awkwardness that made me uncomfortable. Hurry, Amelia, I really need that caffeine jolt.
Donovan sat at the head of the imposing table. His steely green eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made me want to continue to squirm. The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the faint ticking of a grandfather’s clock and the clatter of Mason’s fork dropping onto his plate.
The sudden clang drew my gaze toward him, and the twin winked at me from beside Kreed.
On my left side sat Maddox, lounging in his chair as if he were bored as hell.
Donovan set his coffee on the table and cleared his throat, pulling my focus away from his sons. “So,” he began, his voice low but cutting. “Care to explain what you were doing skulking around outside last night while we eat?”
My stomach twisted, the idea of food not sitting well, but I forced myself to hold his gaze. “I wasn’t skulking. I just needed air.” The lie rolled easily off my tongue.
Kreed scoffed as he scooped a pile of scrambled eggs onto his plate, and unlike the urges I’d had before to hurt him, this time I didn’t hold back. With my lips pressed firmly together, I kicked his shin under the table.
Kreed jerked slightly in his seat, a piece of egg falling off his fork onto the table. His eyes flashed with surprise and his mouth swiftly morphed into a scowl. Next to him, Mason laughed as he stabbed at a stack of French toast.
Donovan raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he ignored the behavior between Kreed and me. “Air? Is that what you call attempting to scale the wall and sneak out of the property?”
My mouth opened, then snapped closed. I had no defense, and the weight of his judgment was insufferable. If I hadn’t already embarrassed myself, I would have flipped Kreed off from across the table.
“It would be in your best interest,” my godfather continued, leaning forward slightly, “not to try that again.”
A shiver danced down my arms as I straightened in my chair, bristling at the warning in his tone as if a second attempt to sneak out without his permission would have consequences. I couldn’t lie; a part of me really wanted to test him, to see how far he would go, to see what kind of man my guardian was. Was he the all-bark-and-no-bite type? Something told me he would bite. “Why? Because you say so?” I challenged tartly.
Donovan’s eyes iced as his jaw tightened, not an ounce of regard or friendliness in his features. He didn’t expect me to obey out of concern but out of authority. “No. Because I believe there are people out there who would do you harm,” he stated flatly. “Who are looking for you.”
I blinked, my breath catching. “Me? What would anyone want with me? I’m not a threat. How can you be so sure?”
Amelia returned and set a carafe of coffee on the table in front of me with cream and sugar.
Donovan started to fill his plate, his expression unwavering. “Let me worry about that. You need to focus on school—getting back to normal.”
I frowned, picking at the fruit bowl, my appetite not where it should be. How the hell was I supposed to eat after a conversation like this? “Normal?” I squeaked. “You think I can go back to normal after everything that’s happened? My parents are dead!” I hadn’t meant to put so much emotion behind my words. It just poured out of me.
Donovan’s bite of eggs stopped halfway to his mouth. “I’m aware. But it won’t change the fact that you’re starting school on Monday morning.”
“Monday?” I repeated, dread pitting in my gut. “You expect me to go to school like nothing happened?”
Beside me, Maddox shoveled food into his mouth, leaving him little opportunity to get a word in.
Mason, on the other hand, smirked at me, seeming to enjoy the strife between his father and me. “Public just got a whole lot more interesting with you there.”
I wrinkled my nose at him, forcing a bit of pineapple into my mouth. It tasted sour.
“You need structure,” Donovan added firmly. “Routine. Life doesn’t wait for you to dry your eyes,” he replied. “You’ll go to school. There’s nothing left for you at Elmwood Academy. The sooner you accept that, the better. You’ve already met my sons, it seems. They’ll take you to school and show you around. I’ve already instructed the academy to send over your transcripts. Your classes will align with what you were taking as best as Public can accommodate.”
“Why do we have to take her?” Maddox complained. “Have Roman take her. We have practice after school.”
Roman?
I assumed he was my godfather’s driver.
“I’m sure Kaylor won’t mind waiting until practice is over. It will give her time to catch up on assignments. Do you watch football?” he turned and asked me.
“No,” I replied. “I like volleyball, though.”
Donovan raised an intrigued brow. “You were on the volleyball team at the academy?”
I nodded, moving my fork around on my plate.
“I’m sure Kreed could talk to the coach and get you an audition.” His attention shifted to his son across from me. “You were dating the captain. What was her name?”
“Fucking. He was fucking her,” Maddox corrected.
Donovan’s fist came down hard on the table, plates, glasses, and silverware rattling. I jumped in my seat, my gaze flying to the head of the table.
What the fuck?
“I was serious when I told the three of you things would change around here. And I meant it,” he stated, his stern voice filling the silence.
“Why do we have to change our lives because of her? We didn’t ask for her parents to get shot,” Maddox sneered, picking up his half-drunk glass of orange juice.
I sucked in a breath. How insensitive could he be? I got it wasn’t really me Maddox was pissed at but his father and the rules he set out, but it didn’t make his words hurt any less.
My head whipped to my right, and I stared at him. “You’re a prick.”
He tipped his glass in a solo toast. “You got that right.”
“I like you better when you’re drunk,” I hissed.
Maddox’s lips curved. “Most girls do.”
“Enough,” Donovan barked. “You don’t have to like each other, but you do have to live in this house together.” He waited a beat for his sons to open their mouths and argue, but none said another word. There were huffs, glares, and smirks, but Kreed, Maddox, and Mason stayed quiet, their focus returning to their plates. “Good. Like I said, Kreed can talk to the coach.”
“Don’t bother. I’m not interested in pursuing volleyball or any after-school activities. What’s the point? And I can find my own way to school. I don’t need your sons to drive me. I don’t need anything from them. Or you,” I added quietly.
Donovan didn’t falter, but something flickered in his expression—something I couldn’t quite place. “You’re wrong about that. My protection is all you have. Don’t take my generosity for granted. I make all the hard decisions not because it gives me pleasure but because it’s what needs to be done.”
I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. “I’m not hungry. I think I’ll skip breakfast.” And every meal that required me to be in the same room as the Corvos.
Donovan inclined his head at me as if to acknowledge my leaving was acceptable to him. The thing was, I didn’t care if he approved of my behavior or not. He might be my legal guardian, but he wasn’t my parents.
He never would be.
“I’ll have Amelia bring you up a plate in case you change your mind,” Donovan offered, slipping back into his role of being the caring godfather. “Oh, and Kaylor,” he called after me before I could leave the room. “Be ready for Monday. And no more late-night adventures.”
My fingers dug into the arched frame.
If Donovan believed I was in danger, then he was hiding information from me. Information I had the right to know. I had every intention of finding out.