out to her mother as she stepped into the kitchen. “Morning! Or afternoon, or whatever.”
"Happy birthday, Nena." Teresa greeted kindly, but hesitantly. She knew and was witness as to why and how much Kennedy detested any type of celebration on her birthday.
Kennedy stood at the archway that lead into the room and stared, her eyes took in each movement that her mother made. She tried to gauge exactly how much this person knew about the things that had only recently been brought to light before her.
On the outside, the woman in front of her appeared to be the same loving, yet strict, mother that she had known all of her life. But, Kennedy now knew the ugly truth about how deceiving appearances could be and so she looked on, trying to convince herself that her mother was just as ignorant of the situation as she had been up until a while ago.
She knew better. Teresa's evasive answers and lack of presence in the house told her otherwise.
"Is something wrong, darling?" Teresa stopped fussing over a pot of sauce that she had going on the stove and turned her full attention on her daughter.
Kennedy wanted to ask so many things. Where was Steven and when was he coming home? But, that had gotten her nowhere before.
Why hadn't he called, why hadn't he answered her calls, why he was gone in the first place, why were demons sent to watch him and why was her mother lying to her about it?
Why?
Why?
Why?!
So many questions battled to get through all at once that the only halted word that she could get out was, "Papa–", she supposed because he was the main source of her concern. She watched as her mother's eyes widened slightly at the word.
"What about your father?" That did it! Normally, Theresa would've said, don't worry, he'll be home when he's home, or something like it.
"Be honest, Mama."
"What are you on about now, Kennedy? I've already told you that we'll talk about this as a family when he gets back." Kennedy didn't know what to do, she didn't want to push an argument with her mom, but she had to know what the hell was happening around her.
Admittedly, what she did next may not have been the best way to go about it.
"Okay, okay. Let's do it your way. I already know that Steven isn't who you both make him out to be. But, would you at least mind explaining what possible reason could a man possessed by a demon have to break into Steven's study?" Teresa's eyes had widened when she'd heard the word demon, but she actually took a step back as if she had been physically hit when Kennedy finished her question.
Her mother was so shaken that it made her feel a little bad to have dropped the bomb just like that, though she didn't see any better way to do it. In front of her, Teresa's mouth moved soundlessly like fish out of water as she tried to form words that wouldn't come out.
"I didn't mean it to come out like that, but you gave me no other choice. What I do want you to tell me, Mama, is exactly how much longer did you plan to keep it a secret from me?"
"How do you know about that?" Teresa's voice caught in her throat as she asked.
"Forget about how I know. The real point is, why I had to find out about it from a demon instead of my own mother?"
"I was just trying– I wanted to protect you." She pleaded.
"By lying to me?"
"No, by keeping you safely away from a world full of evil beyond your understanding!"
"And whose fault is it that I'm not ready to defend myself in such a world? Isn't that just as bad, letting me go around oblivious to what's really out there, trusting everyone I shouldn't?" Kennedy knew that there was logic in what Teresa was saying but her pride wouldn't let her acknowledge it.
"Maybe, but I did what I thought was best at the time. Please understand, Kennedy. I was so young and he was so perfect. Then in the blink of an eye, I found myself alone and practically helpless. You need to believe that Steven does love you as his own, even if he's not–" Kennedy reeled back as her mother broke off realizing that the conversation had gone in a very different direction than it was originally intended.
She failed to register her mother's words for a second, then just as fast, her whole world crash landed on top of her.
Her legs threatened to give out.
"Even if he's not, what? Go on, finish it! Are you saying– do you mean he isn't my real father?" No, she wouldn't believe her that time.
Lies, more lies, it had to be a lie.
"I thought– but you said that you knew. Oh, I'm so sorry darling!" Teresa clamped a hand on her own mouth to keep from saying anything else.
"No.” That was not happening, any moment now she would wake up and see that that wasn't happening, that it was just another nightmare.
“Kennedy–” Her mother's hand slid down to her own throat and she tried again, but Kennedy would not, could not let her go on to say anything else.
“No! I won't listen to any more of this bull– I can't. Forget I asked, I don't want to know anything." She backed away out of the room.
"Kennedy!" Teresa came after her and reached out to touch her arm, but Kennedy swatted her hands away.
"No, I'm leaving! Thank you for the wonderful birthday present." She slammed the front door behind her as she stormed out of the house.
Outside, Kennedy hesitated. She flinched at the muffled sounds of her mother's sobs coming from inside. She considered going back in and telling her that she was sorry. However, the guilt was immediately drowned out by the sharp stab of betrayal that she felt as the memory of Teresa's recent confession rushed around her thoughts.
She almost took a step back, but willed her feet to move forward instead.
She took one doubtful step, then another. Soon, she found herself running down the steps and onto the sidewalk, away from her house.
For a while, the rush of adrenaline, the wind blowing through her hair and the wild beating of her heart were enough as she tried to block out all thoughts of demons, the man that she had always thought to be her father and the heart wrenching sounds of her mother's sobs.
But, her feet gradually slowed down and her pace settled.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware that her breath should have been coming out in harsh pants from the exertion of running so fast, but it wasn't and she had no interest in questioning that fact right then.
She hooked both of her thumbs on the belt strings of her jeans and walked, not caring where she was headed. She stared aimlessly between the rows of houses lined up to the sides and the ground beneath her feet.
The familiar rumble of a car engine made her look up to see as Damien's Charger slowed down until it almost came to a stop next to her. He took of his metal square sunglasses and threw them carelessly on the back seat.
As it was now customary, they exchanged stares.
He smirked and tapped the passenger seat, motioning for her to get in the car with him and even though she knew that she should have been afraid of him, of what he was, Kennedy got in the car without thinking twice about it.
As was also custom, Kennedy snuck a few glances out of the corner of her left eye and secretly drank him in.
He wore his signature attire consisting of a plain white tee shirt and faded jeans. His feet were hidden from her vantage point, but she would've given that nosy left eye if they weren't clad in his black work boots that weren't actually worked in.
"Where to, Miss?" His strange accent made the words that she had once heard in a movie and found stately sound enthralling. Kennedy thought for a moment, she had no idea where to go, all that she knew was that she didn't want to be at her house.
"I don't know, anywhere, just not here." Bless him, he understood her completely and got the point that when she had said not there, she wasn't referring to their actual location.
Instead of turning around in the direction of their houses, he kept going forward, out of the neighborhood and into the town.
Her eye ventured back up to watch as the wind played with a stray wisp of ra
ven hair that fell in and out of vivid blue eyes. It danced in the flowing breeze that came in through the lowered car windows.
She gratefully appreciated how Damien didn't try to make idle conversation, that he understood her need to flee.
Damien extended his hand towards her, his cellular phone in its hold. She looked up inquiringly.
"Music always helps." He turned the phone over in his palm, glided his thumb over the touch screen a few times and held it out for her to take it again. When she took it, she saw that it was on the media player menu screen.
She nodded and scrolled down with her index finger, looking for something familiar to play. There were a few songs of which the names stuck out, but the rest were mostly unknown to her. She noticed that he was big on classic rock, judging by some of the names of the artists. She resigned herself to listen to whatever he had in there. She was curious to know him.
Kennedy tapped her finger lightly against the random play option.
A track began to play out of the cell phone speaker. She watched as Damien's right thumb came alive a few seconds into the song and started to drum along to the beat on the steering wheel as he drove.
She turned her head to look out of the window and watched the scenery fly by. Despite the obviously gloomy irony in the lyrics of the unknown song, she took in the sounds of the music and fell in love with it.
Ten minutes into the drive, they were halfway through a third song when Damien took a left turn and started down a less populated road away from the center of town. With both confusion and satisfaction,