Page 71 of Finding Kyler
“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.
