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CHAPTER FOURTEEN:
where did the ice princess suddenly grow a heart from?
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JJ had walked Kennedy home, neither of them speaking the entire time. Truthfully, Kennedy didn't quite know what to say. She'd opened up to him after he'd saved her life and she didn't know how to deal with that. Kennedy wasn't exactly a 'sit down and talk about it' kind of person—but she did feel a little more lighter now that she had spoken to someone who wasn't apart of her daily life about what bothered her. And she'd finally figured out what the Pogues had been up to—it was disappointing, to say the least, that they were searching for an impossible shipwreck to find.

The following afternoon, Kennedy was sitting inside her mother's clinic, scrolling endlessly through her phone. She'd only gone because being at home with Topper, Rafe and Kelce working out in the gym and being rowdy was the last thing she wanted. She was avoiding them all like the plague—far too angry to even glance in their direction. Given, Kelce hadn't really been there or done anything to her, but he was guilty by association.

Kennedy glanced up when someone entered through the front door, carrying four bags of groceries in their hands. She noticed Pope immediately as he walked towards reception, "Hey," She spoke up as she stood to her feet, making the boy turn to her, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Are those for us?" She asked, glancing down at the groceries in his hands, but she already knew they were—her mother had given her the cash to pay for the groceries.

The boy seemed on edge as he looked around before nodding quickly, "Alright, you can just drop them off over here,"She told him, leading him to a door that served as the break room. "Here you go." She chirped, pulling the wad of cash from her back pocket—it was more than the food plus the delivery had cost, but Caroline always tipped their vendors generously.

Pope took the money, keeping his head low, his baseball cap covering his face, "Um, this is way more than the cost." Pope pointed out, rubbing the money between his fingers, counting it.

Kennedy smiled, "It's all good." She assured him, swaying back and forth on her feet.

Pope looked up at her, furrowing his brows, "Why does a clinic need this much food anyway?" He asked. He'd been wondering it on the way over, considering if it was just consumerism or if they actually needed all those groceries.

Kennedy chuckled a little, "My mom likes to have the fridge stocked for the staff and patients," She informed him, earning a small nod. "She said it—wait, are you okay?" She suddenly asked, stepping closer to the boy when she realised his face was marked with cuts and bruises—which he had clearly been trying to hide. Kennedy had assumed he had just been nervous around her as usual, keeping his head down and eyes off of her—but he had been trying to hide the fact that his face had been beaten to a pulp.

"I—I'm fine." Pope stuttered.

"You don't look fine," She told him. She reached out, touching his arm. "Come on, my mom doesn't have any patients right now. Let her have a look at—"

"I said I'm fine, Kennedy," Pope spoke over her, wrenching his arm from her grip. She stared at him, blinking back at the harshness of his tone. She'd always had a soft spot for kids like Pope, hence why she was typically nice to him, but the venom in his voice took her by surprise. "Don't pretend like you give a shit." He mumbled to himself, turning his back on her, attempting to flee the scene but she rushed out of the clinic after him.

"Pope, wait!" She called after him, making the boy do as she said—not because he wanted to, but because he was particularly used to doing as he was told. "Did someone I know do this to you? Is that why you won't tell me what happened?" She asked him in concern, stepping closer to the boy whose eyes were brimmed with tears.

He turned to fully face her, looking as if he were debating on saying what he wanted to say. He threw his hands up, "I'm not telling you anything because you're a Kook and you can't be trusted," His words stung. Kennedy had always thought she'd been more than friendly towards Pope—far nicer than she'd ever treated the rest of his friends. But it seemed like even he could only see her as a spoiled rich kid. "I don't need you to sit there and feel pity for me, alright?" He said, the tears glossing over his eyes.

Kennedy stared at him, blinking slowly, "I'm not feeling pity for you, Pope," She told him. "I just want to know who did this to you and then maybe I can help—"

"Help?" Pope repeated, taking a few steps towards her. "How the hell are you going to be able to help me? You're in cahoots with the people who did this." Kennedy could tell he was taking his anger out on her, using her as some kind of outlet. Part of her didn't mind. She knew Pope was the type of kid who stayed quiet and kept to himself—he didn't really have an outlet for his anger.

"So I do know them?" She prompted.

"Just let it go, Kennedy." He warned her.

Kennedy watched his expression before letting out a breath, "It was my brother, wasn't it?" She assumed, knowing how on edge and aggressive her twin had been as of recent. She took a step closer, furrowing her brows. "Or Rafe?" She added, just in case she was wrong.

Pope didn't respond, letting her know she was right. She shook her head, "Shit," She swore, stepping towards him. "Pope, I'm so sorry. I don't—I don't know what's gotten into them recently. I—"

"Why are you acting so surprised?" Pope spoke over her. "And why are you acting like you care? You've never gave a shit about us Pogues—hell, all you do is poke fun at us. Where did the Ice Princess suddenly grow a heart from?" He demanded, his words harsh, trying to understand her, the frustration bubbling up inside of him.

Kennedy sighed, "Look, we all have our differences, alright? And it's true, I can't stand you guys most of the time—but I'm not a monster, okay? This shit's going too far," She tried reasoning with him. "I don't have to like you guys to think this is all some massive amount of bullshit—which it is." She was breathing a little heavier as she spoke, getting worked up at the topic.

She blew out air as Pope stared at her in disbelief, "You don't have to trust me, okay? Quite frankly I don't trust any of you either," She told him as she stepped towards him. She gestured with her hand. "But you're hurt and my mom's a doctor, so please, will you just come back inside? She can help." She tried reassuring him, not wanting the kid to walk away with open wounds.

Pope held eye contact with her before shaking his head, "I've already overstayed my welcome on Kook territory—"

"Then let me come with you," She said, making the boys eyes widen in surprise. "Surely you have a First Aid kit lying around or something? I can get you cleaned up." She assured him, offering a small smile and a nod of her head.

Pope shook his head in disbelief, "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?" He asked her, not understanding her sudden change in heart.

Kennedy sighed, "My boyfriend and my brother have been causing a reign of terror recently," She began saying, looking down to fiddle with her hands. "I just—ever since the Boneyard, things haven't felt right. Topper almost killed your friend and I can't just pretend it's okay because none of this is. It doesn't make me a Pogue sympathiser, but for fucks sake, I have some morals." She told him in frustration, throwing her hands up.

Pope stared her down for the longest of times, saying nothing before he slowly nodded his head, "There's a First Aid kit on the boat." He told her, meeting her gaze.

Kennedy held his stare before nodding, "Alright, let's go."

Kennedy had tended to Poppe's wounds on his father's boat that had been docked by the dock. They'd sat in silence the entire time as Kennedy cleaned and iced the wounds, trying to stop some of the swelling—but still, she knew that Pope's face would bruise and that he would be in pain for the next couple of days.

Pope swore he wouldn't say a word about her helping to anyone, knowing it could get her in all sorts of trouble. 'Not a Pogue sympathiser', she had previously said—and that's what people on her side of the island would have thought if they found out. There were worse things she could be, but not in the eyes of her fellow Kook. She had a place to stand in the hierarchy—and that place was way, way above the Pogues.

Kennedy spent the rest of that day with her mom at the clinic, eventually leaving to catch some waves before the sun had set. She'd surfed alone, enjoying the silence. It had been just her, her board and the ocean—just the way she liked it. But the moment the sun began to set, she had packed up and headed home.

Entering the house with her longboard tucked beneath her arm, she placed it down by the front door. Without a car, she had walked to the beach, carrying her board the entire time—and she was tired, especially after surfing for over an hour straight. She wanted a shower, something to eat and perhaps, the half-smoked joint she'd left in her dressing table drawer.

Heading straight to the kitchen, she washed her hands in the sink, humming to herself as she did so, "The waves good out there today?" The voice came from her father as he entered through the French doors from the garden. His sunglasses were perched on his head, the top three buttons of his shirt undone.

"Pretty good, yeah." Kennedy replied as she dried her hands off, not sparring her father a glance.

She hadn't seen much of her father since they'd returned to the island. He'd been working—constantly. And when he wasn't, he was locked away in his office or talking business with Ward. Truthfully, she'd liked it—not having to bite her tongue around him or try to respect him whilst developing a deeper level of hatred for the man.

"That's good," He replied. "Hey, you've had that longboard for quite a while now. Why don't we take a look at the surf shop tomorrow? See about getting you a new one." He suggested as he stood by the kitchen island, his arms folded at his chest.

Kennedy opened the fridge, searching for something to snack on. In the end, she decided a protein drink of her brother's would be the way to go, "Thanks but I like my board." She said, her tone dismissive as she closed the fridge and gave the protein drink a rough shake.

"Are you sure?" Her father prompted, earning a nod of her head as she opened the protein shake. "Why don't we go shopping instead? The school year starts up soon. Aren't there things you'll be needing?" He pushed, obviously trying to find any excuse to spend time with her.

Kennedy looked up at him, raising a brow, "Mom already did all of that." She informed him, keeping her words short—which her father noticed.

He sighed, throwing his hands up, "Kennedy, I'm really trying here," He told her, a frown on his face. "Please, can you just let me try and be a good father?" He pleaded, begging for the opportunity to do anything for her—anything if it meant he could have his daughter back.

Kennedy stared at him, blinking slowly before she shook her head, "You already had your chance," She told him, making him let out the deep breath he'd been holding, hanging his head in shame. "All you had to do was not cheat on mom and things would have been the same as before." She scorned, turning her back and heading towards the stairs.

"Kennedy!" He called after her, making her pause by the stairs, glancing over at him. He put his hands to his chest, over his heart. "I'm sorry for all of the pain I've caused you. Truly, I am. And I miss you so much, baby. I miss my baby girl." Tears were pooling in his eyes as he spoke, his voice strained.

Kennedy bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes stinging, "I miss you too," She told him, much to his relief. She shook her head, blinking away the tears. "But I don't think I can forgive you." She told him.

"That's okay—just please, try and let me make it up to you, okay?" He pleaded her, taking a few hasty steps towards her. "Please, baby. Let your dad fix this." He begged, the tears coating his lashes.

Kennedy fought to hold back the tears in her eyes, rapidly shaking her head, "I'm sorry, dad." She rushed out before hurriedly running up the stairs and to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

She slid down the door, putting her face in her hands as the tears slipped from her lashes. She couldn't admit it—not to herself or anyone, but part of the reason why she couldn't forgive her father was because she couldn't forgive herself. Had she just not been nosey that day—if she had ignored that text message, she never would have found out about the affair and she never would have revealed it to her family. She never would have torn her family apart.

She knew she had done the right thing, but it didn't matter. Sometimes, the right thing hurt more and made things worse. And that was exactly what she had done. If she forgave her father, she'd have to forgive herself for tearing her family apart. And she wasn't so sure she could do that.

( authors note )

        I'm alive 🎀