Center of the Universe (Twelfth Keeper) Read online

  He wrapped his hand around hers. “Fang, this thing with Kennedy—it’s not meaningless. I can’t mess it up.” He pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry.”

  She kissed him anyway. She stood on her tiptoes, draped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against his.

  He instantly started to pull away but stopped. Shaming her wasn’t the only thing he would do if he ended this now. After everything was said and done, she would still believe she was in love with him. He wanted her to see that she wasn’t.

  A few more seconds passed, and then Fang backed away. “You didn’t even try.” Her pale face turned red at the realization.

  “When it’s right—you shouldn’t have to.”

  She lifted her knee, jabbing him square in the gut. Out of all the strange things Fang had done, Phoenix wasn’t surprised by the blow. Doubling over, he coughed several times as he tried to catch his breath. The girl had a hammer for a kneecap.

  He wasn’t angry. Probably should’ve been, since it hurt like hell. But he’d seen it coming and could’ve moved if he wanted to. Instead, he let her have that one. Fang wouldn’t be Fang if she couldn’t take her anger out on someone. Better him than the others.

  He only hoped it could dent some of the hurt he caused her.

  Fourteen

  As the week wore on, Kennedy tried to keep herself busy. She pretended to take a fashion stand against braces, opting to leave hers in the drawer of her nightstand. It remained powered off. Spending time with her family was her top priority anyway, not worrying about what was going on in Olympus.

  Most of her activities were spent with her mom or Lincoln. She and Reagan were still at odds, and well, Hunter no longer acknowledged her existence.

  It wasn’t all bad though. Ashley taught her how to cook fried chicken. Kennedy took it upon herself to watch the whole process studiously. When she forgave Phoenix—if she ever forgave him—she wanted to be able to replicate the recipe. Matilda was a great cook, but she was almost too perfect. Ashley, on the other hand, usually guessed measurements by looking at them, and if she was out of one ingredient, she’d find a similar one to replace it with. When Kennedy asked her mom why she did this, the response she got was, “Because that’s how you learn, baby. It’s the little imperfections that count. When people taste a dish you cooked, you want them to walk away knowing that’s what Kennedy’s food tastes like.”

  That made her smile. Who would have thought that only a few weeks ago she was preparing for the apocalypse, and today she was learning to cook with her mom? Something about the idea lifted her spirits. She felt grateful to Professor Mason for letting her have this moment, however insignificant it was. To her, it was everything.

  Later that night, Kennedy decided to be useful and do some research on Dominika. She curled up in her bed and pressed the little button on her brace. Dozens of beeps and flashing lights went off, letting her know she had a heap of messages waiting for her. She frowned, seeing almost all of them were from Phoenix. She wasn’t ready to go there yet.

  Within a few seconds, a little blue light signaled. Kennedy answered it. “How have you been, my trusty metal friend?”

  “How dare you,” Matilda seethed. “How dare you turn me off for nearly an entire week. What were you thinking?”

  Kennedy chuckled. “Don’t take it personally, Matilda. I needed some alone time.”

  “Alone time—what is this? A human thing?” She sounded thoroughly disgusted. “Come on, cupcake. Give me something I can process. Was it hormones? That time of the month?”

  “I just wasn’t feeling like my usual self, okay? I needed some space. People get like that every once in a while.”

  “Ah ha! It’s boy troubles.”

  Kennedy blanched. How the hell had she guessed so accurately? “No, that’s not true.” She swallowed, hoping Matilda would buy it.

  “Save it, cupcake. My estimations are too high, and you end up sounding pathetic when you try to lie.”

  Kennedy gripped the cold metal in her hand tightly, wanting to bash it against the wall several times. “I’m seriously considering selling you.”

  That prompted an amused laugh. “First of all, I’m priceless. And second of all, you need me too much. For instance, I’m predicting the reason you finally powered on that bracelet of yours is because you require my help.”

  “I hate that you know that.”

  Matilda laughed again. “Tell me what you want already.”

  Kennedy went on to tell the android what happened with Dominika and Phoenix in Russia. After she was done, she asked Matilda to help her with the research. “I think I’ll start with the murder of her family,” she said. “The other keepers are familiar with the story, but I’ve never heard the details. Could you locate an old wave about the incident?”

  “Can I?” Matilda scoffed. “I located the files as you were speaking. Pull up the video feed on your brace.”

  Kennedy did just that, impressed with her Series Seven android’s capabilities.

  The reporters spoke Russian, but captions scrolled across the bottom of the page in English. They showed footage of Dominika’s childhood house and she watched in horror as black body bags were carried out, one by one.

  The entire family was killed, execution-style. The mom, the dad, two brothers, and two sisters. Dominika had been hiding beneath her parent’s bed the whole time.

  Reasons for the murder were unknown. Speculations ranged from a hate crime, to a simple robbery gone wrong.

  “Robbery, my ass,” Kennedy muttered, not believing that theory for one second.

  It was worse when they showed the footage of the young Dominika. She wore little fur boots and had her blonde hair pulled into pigtails. What was she—seven, maybe eight years old? They zoomed in on her hazy, silver eyes. For such a little girl, they lacked all the innocence that should’ve been there. “Oh God.” Kennedy sniffed, trying not to lose it.

  “You turning emotional on me, cupcake?”

  She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “This is some pretty heavy stuff, Matilda. I feel bad I didn’t know. I would’ve…I dunno. Tried harder to get to know Nika or something. She’s been through so much.”

  “Did you find anything useful in there?”

  “Actually,” she said, sitting up straighter. “Can you run it back a little?”

  “Sure thing.”

  This time Kennedy focused on the captions and not the footage. She found what she was looking for halfway through the wave. “Stop it right there!”

  She read the line again, seeing the name Ryder Industries. “Her dad worked for them, Matilda.”

  There was a long pause. “Well, that’s something.”

  “Can you find out what his position was?”

  “Give me a sec. Let’s see…looks like Mr. Orlov was a...hmm. Didn’t see that one coming.”

  “I’m in suspense here!”

  “Right. Sorry. Mr. Orlov was an inventor.”

  Huh. “What did he invent?”

  “Nothing I can find. Looks like his work was kept classified.”

  “Fantastic.” Kennedy rolled her eyes. Of course it was classified. They couldn’t make it easy on her, could they? It seemed like the more they delved into solving this project, the more confused everything became. These constant dead ends were getting old.

  “Do you want me to fetch anything else?”

  “I suppose you can compile some related waves. Research Dominika’s family for me, too.” She yawned, eyeing her pillow. “I’ll work on it later.”

  “You bet, cupcake. Goodnight.”

  “Thanks, Matilda. Goodnight.”

  Matilda hung up, and Kennedy told the lights to switch off.

  Beside her, Reagan’s bed was empty. It was the last night of spring break, which meant Reagan and every other teen on this island was either at the beach or the local bowling alley. Last year Kennedy had been one of those teens. She’d hit up the beach with Hunter and their small group of friends.
This year her presence would only cause a commotion.

  She glanced at the picture of her father sitting on her nightstand. A lot could change in a year. She knew that better than anyone.

  Her brace vibrated as another message came through. She still didn’t want to hear the inevitable from Phoenix, and wasn’t planning to check it, but then she noticed her brace was flashing another color. The message wasn’t from him.

  Fang?

  That was weird. She and Fang barely spoke to one another back on Olympus, much less sent each other messages. The two of them weren’t exactly each other’s biggest fans. Unless icy glares and pretending like the other didn’t exist were signs of admiration. She wasn’t even aware that Fang had her number.

  The message was attached to a video clip. Thought you might want to see what I’ve been up to.

  Security camera footage filled up the space in front of her. Kennedy made out two bodies in the middle of a hallway. One was Fang, and the other was obviously Phoenix. She stared at the video, vaguely aware that her mouth had dropped as she watched Fang press herself against her boyfriend. Was this really happening?

  Kennedy waited for Phoenix to push Fang away. She stared hard at the image of him, willing him to do it. She waited for what seemed like an eternity, watching the two of them kiss. Her stomach churned violently when it became apparent that Phoenix wasn’t going to stop Fang.

  Eventually the kiss ended, they exchanged words, and Fang walked away. Phoenix raked his hands through his hair, looked at the ground, and then walked out of the frame as well.

  Bile stung the back of Kennedy’s throat as her eyes fell on the date at the bottom of the screen. She swayed, feeling like she was going to pass out.

  It was today’s date.

  Fifteen

  “It’s time our sisterly feud came to an end.” The bed sunk in the spot where Reagan plopped down. “Don’t take this personally, but you, dear sister, look like death. My help is clearly needed.”

  Kennedy turned over, hugging the pillow beneath her. “Go away, Reagan.” She stared at the wall, hoping her sister would get the hint.

  Reagan nudged her shoulder, apparently in no big rush to leave. “What’s going on with you? I’m supposed to be the one with the awful hangover, and I’ve been out of bed for hours now. I figured Mom might force you to get up, but she’s too busy with Jake who—get this—is in the garage, changing out Barney’s spark plugs. I swear, there’s always something.”

  The wall Kennedy stared at was purple. It was the color she and her sister finally agreed on after arguing for hours over whether they should paint it beige or lime green. Somehow, purple ended up being their common ground.

  Over the last few hours, she didn’t allow herself to think about anything outside of the color purple. Grapes, violets, and lavender filled her head.

  “Seriously, Kenn. Talk to me.”

  Plums.

  Bruises.

  The color of her favorite cardigan…

  “I’m tired,” she insisted. It wasn’t a lie. Her mind was tired, but her body refused to sleep. She’d sell her soul for a sleep agent right about now.

  “You’ve been in bed all day. Look at me. I’m not going away until you do.”

  Kennedy let out a long breath and then turned around to face her sister.

  Morning glories.

  Eggplant.

  The shade of eye shadow Reagan was wearing right now.

  “Is this about what happened with Hunter? Are you depressed?”

  Kennedy rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the concern but no. Not all of my emotions depend on whether or not you and Hunter are speaking to me.”

  Orchids.

  Purple hearts.

  Amethysts…amethysts.

  How had she not noticed she’d been wearing it this whole time? In one swift motion, she sat up, jerked the clasp of the chain loose, and threw the necklace Phoenix gave her across the room.

  A very stunned looking Reagan blinked several times. She craned her head to look at the necklace, and then back at Kennedy.

  “Don’t ask,” she muttered, wedging her face between two pillows so she didn’t have to see how asylum-worthy she looked to Reagan.

  “I’m just making an assumption here,” her sister said quietly, “but I believe the cure to what you’re going through is a girl’s night.”

  “I don’t have any girlfriends.” Her voice came out muffled through the pillows. “Hunter was my go-to person, and now I don’t have him.”

  Reagan groaned, unimpressed with that excuse. “You have me.” The pillows were yanked out from beneath her. “Turn around, zombie-girl. You don’t think I recognize a broken heart when I see one?”

  Kennedy slowly lifted her face from the mattress and met her sister’s concerned gaze.

  “Ever since Dean and I ended things, the story of my life has been one big, ugly broken heart.” All the pain and heartache Reagan felt was right there beneath the surface, and seeing it made Kennedy feel like crying. “I don’t want to be heartbroken,” she whispered. “I want to be indifferent.”

  “So do I,” Reagan said. “It’s called denial.”

  Kennedy didn’t want to believe that. She wanted to believe that the moment she saw those things on her brace’s video feed, all her feelings for Phoenix had disappeared. She wanted to believe she no longer cared, and if she kept thinking about purple things, she could continue to be indifferent.

  “You need to get up.” Reagan sniffed in her direction. “And shower. Yes, definitely shower. That’s the first step.”

  “What’s the next step?” Because she wasn’t going through with step one unless step two sounded promising.

  “Ice cream. Or in your case, frozen yogurt.”

  Kennedy looked at Reagan, and then again at the purple wall, trying to decide which one she needed more. “Okay,” she finally said, agreeing. What could it hurt? “But this girl’s night thing better be dripping with awesomeness.”

  “You’re going to love it. I promise.”

  She paused by the door. “Reagan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t care if I get a stomachache. I want the real stuff today.”

  Reagan smiled. “You got it, babe.”

  ~ ~

  The rest of the day passed in a blur of manicures, pedicures, shopping for shoes, dresses, and makeup, and then a final stop for ice cream on the way home. Kennedy wore the blonde wig Phoenix had given her to hide from the public, and Reagan made fun of her for it. “You look ridiculous,” she said. The teasing didn’t bother her. It was better than getting stopped by mobs of people, and it worked. The two of them stayed under the radar the entire time.

  She had needed this.

  Actually, it hadn’t occurred to her just how much she missed these simple routines. It was nice, just being a girl again. Reagan had said this was the cure. It wasn’t exactly. There were still moments throughout the day when she remembered what it was all about, moments that filled her chest with a horrible aching, but those moments were fleeting at best. She definitely felt a heck of a lot better than she had at home. She supposed her sister was made up of more than book smarts after all.

  The only real low point in the day came just as they were pulling in the driveway. “You got the ice cream, blondie?”

  Kennedy climbed out of the car, cradling the bag in her arms like she was holding precious valuables. “Got it right here.”

  She stopped in her tracks at the sound of voices coming from Hunter’s front porch. Her former best friend’s arms were entangled around a pretty girl in a miniskirt, who was giggling against his ear.

  “Is that…?”

  Kennedy nodded stiffly. “Ava Penbrooke.”

  By the look on Reagan’s face, she was just as surprised. She stood there, shaking her head at the scene playing out in front of them. “How could he bring her here? What an asshole.”

  “Don’t call him that, Rea,” she said, making her way to the front door. �
�He’s just trying to move on. I’ll admit I thought he could do better, but if he goes for girls like that, it’s his business, not ours.”

  Kennedy fumbled for her keys, really missing the hand-scanners back on Olympus. She swore if she dropped the ice cream, there would be hell to pay.

  “Ava freaking Penbrooke,” Reagan huffed from behind her. “I don’t care what you say, Kenn. He is totally discrediting his so-called feelings for you with that two-faced little tramp.”

  The lock on the door clicked, and they stepped inside. The house was quiet, which meant Ashley and Lincoln weren’t home. Noises of some kind were always being made when they were in.

  Kennedy set out the ice cream on the coffee table, pushing a spoon and a sundae in Reagan’s direction. She settled onto the floor, ready to forget about what was outside.

  Reagan sunk into the spot beside her, still glowering. “How can you not be upset? I’m upset for you, which means you should be fuming.”

  Kennedy shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m disappointed. Ava is…” She pictured her quirky but loveable Hunter with the perky, attention-grabbing cheerleader and shuddered. “Let’s just say I don’t think she’s good enough for Hunter. But I can’t be mad. Not after what I put him through.”

  “Well, I sure as hell can be. I’m the one who had to listen to him whine about you for hours on end—and then to see him pull this crap? It’s disgusting.”

  Kennedy swallowed a bite of her ice cream, thinking about how different her reaction was when she saw Fang kiss Phoenix. Although she wouldn’t call watching Hunter grope Ava a pleasant experience, it was nothing compared to the sickening nausea she felt while watching that video on her brace.

  Hunter’s actions, she could forgive. She would still jump at the chance to be his friend again, even if that included him dating Ava Penbrooke. Or any girl for that matter.

  Phoenix, on the other hand, could rot in hell for all she cared.