Unsuitable (34 page)

“Are you being serious?” My heart is beating faster. “I can really have Jesse for the weekends?”

I feel her smile down the line.

“Yes, Daisy, I’m serious. You’ve earned this. I’m proud of you. Keep up the good work, and you’ll have Jesse living back with you sooner than originally anticipated.”

Tears start to run down my face. “Thank you. So much. I…I can’t…God, thank you. I won’t let you or Jesse down, I swear.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll have your family back together before you know it.”

We say our good-byes after setting a date and time for Anne to do her home visit early next week so that I can begin Jesse’s overnight stays the next weekend.

I can’t believe it. I’m one step away from getting Jesse back.

The other part of my life might be going to shit, but the most important part of my life is heading in the right direction. And it only confirms that I made the right decision in walking away from Kas because I can’t let anything jeopardize getting Jesse back home with me.

Tears are still leaking from my eyes, and I don’t care that other passengers can see me because I’m so fucking happy about these weekend visits.

I fire off a text to Jesse, telling him that I just heard from Anne and how happy I am.

My phone beeps a second later.

It’s cool, right? I can’t wait to see your place. Can I decorate my room how I want it?

God, he can paint it black if he wants.

I type back
.

Of course you can! We can go shopping for paint tomorrow if you want.

He responds.

Bring your credit card. :)

I laugh out loud, and it feels good.

You got it, kiddo. Love you. xx

Love you, too, Mayday.

And that sets me off crying even more.

I turn my face to the window and wipe away the tears.

I feel so conflicted with my happiness over Jesse and my hurt over Kas.

I never knew I could feel so happy yet so sad at the same time.

The train pulls into my station. I get off the train and start the walk home. I know Cece said she was getting wine for our girlie night, but I stop off at the supermarket and get a bottle of champagne to celebrate my news. It’s only the cheap stuff, but it’s still champagne, and we are going to celebrate big time. I cannot bloody wait to see her face when I tell her that I’m getting Jesse for the weekends.

I forgo the five-pence carrier bag, and with a champagne bottle in hand, I head home.

I let myself in my apartment building and jog up the steps. I put my key in the front door, letting myself in. The place is quiet.

“Ce, I’m home,” I call out, smiling. I kick my shoes off. Dropping my bag in the hallway, I head to the living room. “I’ve got amazing news—” My words cut off at the scene set out before me.

Oh God. No.

Th
irty-Nine

The bottle of champagne falls from my hand, hitting the floor with a thud.

“
Ce
.” My voice trembles.

She’s sitting on the sofa. Her wrists are bound in front of her, and her ankles are tied, too. Over her mouth is a piece of duct tape. Her eyes are wide with fear, her cheeks stained with old and new tears.

And, standing behind her, with a gun casually resting on top of the sofa beside her, is Damien Doyle.

“Hi, Daisy.”

The bastard smiles. He fucking smiles.

Fear and rage unfurl in the pit of my stomach.

“Damien.” I try to keep my voice steady, but it trembles, and he hears it.

I know because his grin widens.

“Been a while,” he says.

“Not long enough,” I grit out.

He laughs. “See? And here I was, thinking you’d missed me.”

Like a hole in the head, motherfucker.

“About as much as I’d miss genital herpes.”

He laughs again. Louder. “This is why I’ve always liked you, Daisy. Never afraid to say what’s on your mind.” He rubs the side of his face with his gun. My eyes track the movement. “And I’m sorry to drop in out of the blue like this, but I’ve been hearing things…”

My stomach hollows. “Such as?”

“These wild, crazy ideas that you have about me being the reason you went to prison.” He’s still smiling, but his gray eyes have hardened like granite.

Jason.

“And where have you been hearing those things?”

The smile widens. “Come on, Daisy. You know Jason never could keep his mouth shut. Some beers in him, and it was like fucking confession time.” He laughs a low, cruel sound. “I mean, Jason coming to see you, I should’ve seen that coming the moment I heard you were out. He always did have a weak spot when it came to you. Had to smack him around a bit for that. I mean, I can’t exactly let him off for fucking up. Fucking idiot, that he is. But then he did kinda do me a favor by coming to see me, as I got to hear all about what you’ve been saying.”

I feel a sharp sting of betrayal. But then it’s not like I could have expected more from Jason. He’s a bastard and a coward, just like his brother.

“I haven’t said a word to anyone else,” I rush out. “And, even if I did, who would believe me anyway?”

“True.” He nods, running a tattooed hand over his shaved head. “But, hearing that stuff, it makes me feel uncomfortable. Like I’ve left a loose thread. And I don’t like feeling uncomfortable, Daisy.”

Fuck.

I swallow fearfully, trying to hold myself together.

I see Damien’s eyes go to the bottle of champagne on the floor by my feet.

He nods at it. “Celebrating something?”

Fists clenched by my sides, I shake my head. “No.”

“Drink champagne every day, do you?”

My eyes meet with his. “Yeah. I live a champagne lifestyle nowadays, didn’t you know? I mean, with all that money I got from the jewelry heist—oh, wait. No, that was you.” I’m pushing it. I know I shouldn’t, but my anger is getting the better of me.

He laughs. The sound scrapes through me like rough nails over soft skin.

“Hmm, I think I’ll have that champagne for myself when I’m done here. Do a little celebrating myself.”

“Done here.”

Fuck.

“And…what are you doing here?”

“Cleaning up a mess.”

I just had to ask, didn’t I?

Fear twists my gut into knots. It takes everything in me not to cry. I bite the inside of my mouth—hard.

I have to get us out of here. I can’t just let him kill us.

I need a plan.

What would Kas do?

Kill him. Without a second thought.

God, Kas, where are you? I need you.

But he’s not coming. There’s only me.

I need to keep Damien talking until I can figure out how to get us out of here.

My eyes move to Cece. Tears are swimming in her eyes. She looks so afraid. I silently try to convey to her that everything’s going to be okay.

Then, I force myself to look at Damien, and I bolster myself with false bravado. “I’m really good at cleaning up messes. Did you know that?” I tell him. “Maybe I can help you with your mess.”

He chuckles. “Honey,
you
are my mess.” He lifts his gun and scratches his temple with the barrel of it.

I silently wish for it to go off.

No such luck.

He lowers the gun and rests it on Cece’s shoulder, making her flinch and me dig my nails into my palm.

“This has nothing to do with Cece,” I grit out. “It’s between you and me. Let her go and—”

“You don’t get to make demands. Hello? I’m the one holding the gun here.” He waves the gun around, laughing.

He’s laughing like it’s a fucking game.

It probably is to him.

He presses the barrel of the gun to Cece’s temple.

“No!” I cry.

Cece squeezes her eyes shut, tears running down her cheeks, as her body shakes.

“I’m in charge here, Daisy. And I’m not letting you or your pretty friend go anywhere. I want to have some fun first.” He trails the barrel of the gun down Cece’s cheek and her neck before moving it across her chest.

My body is shaking with fear and rage. I have never felt as helpless as I do right now.

He hurts her, and I swear to God…

Damien leans his face down to the side of Cece’s, and he presses his nose into her hair. She flinches, trying to move away from him.

“I’m gonna fuck you good and hard, honey, and you’re gonna love every second of it,” he says to her.

“You touch her, and I will kill you.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

But I don’t regret them.

Sick, evil grinning eyes lift to mine. “Are you and she…fucking?” The grin reaches his disgusting mouth. “Because I’m down for some girl-on-girl before I fuck the both of you.”

Bile rises in my throat, acid flooding my mouth, and I force it down. “You won’t touch Cece or me. The only one who’ll be getting fucked anytime soon is you. Fucked up by my boyfriend when he gets his hands on you.”

His eyes flicker with interest. “Is that so? Jason never mentioned a boyfriend.”

“Jason doesn’t know a thing about me. But my boyfriend…well, he knows
everything
about you, Damien.”

He straightens up and takes the gun off Cece, resting it on the sofa but keeping a tight hold on it. “And just exactly who is your boyfriend?”

I smirk. It takes everything in me to do it, but I have to keep this going. I need to scare him. “He’s someone you should be very fucking afraid of.”

He holds my stare for what feels like forever, and then he lets out a mocking laugh. “You’re so full of shit! You don’t have a fucking boyfriend. And even if you did, Damien Doyle ain’t afraid of no fucker.” He taps the gun to his puffed out chest.

“Well, you should be. You should be fucking terrified, Damien. Ask Evan Foster and Levi Betts. Oh, yeah, that’s right. You can’t, can you? Because they’re dead.”

“So? What the fuck do they have to do with anything?” he snaps.

And I know I’m getting to him.

I take a bold step forward. “Who do you think killed them?”

“You’re talking shit, little girl. Evan killed himself, the fucking coward that he was, and Levi was stabbed by a dealer.”

“Did they ever catch that dealer who did Levi in?” I tip my head to the side in contemplation. “And, you know, come to think of it…Evan slitting his own throat?” I give a shudder, pulling a face. “I mean, it isn’t exactly the usual way someone chooses to kill themselves, is it?”

He can’t hide the shock that ripples over his features, and through his transparent eyes, I can see his mind working quickly.

“Seven years ago, you and your two little besties decided to rape and murder a seventeen-year-old girl in Hyde Park on the night of her prom. Her boyfriend was with her. You beat him, tortured him, and made him watch while you defiled his girlfriend in the worst possible way. Then, you stabbed him over and over until you thought he was dead. Only…he wasn’t dead. He survived. And he’s been coming for you motherfuckers, one by one, and it’s your turn, Damien.”

His face pales, and his voice wavers. “What the fuck do you know about that?”

“Everything. When you’re sleeping with a man, he tends to tell you things—pillow talk, you know. And he told me about every bad thing you did and how badly he’s going to fuck you up, just like he did Evan and Levi.”

“You’re a fucking liar!” he snaps, his face turning red. “That kid was dead! I made sure of it.”

“Did you not check the news after that night? Or were you just too fucking arrogant? Or did you just not care enough about the fact that you stole the lives of two fucking innocent kids? Well, whatever it was, you fucked up big time, Damien. Because he survived. And he grew up with a lot of rage and hatred, every ounce of it directed at you. You created a killer, Damien, and he’s coming for you.”

“You’re fucking lying!” he yells, losing his cool.

I laugh. “God, I can’t wait to prove you wrong. I’m going to really enjoy watching Kas cut you wide open.”

“What did you say?” He steps to the side of the sofa, away from Cece.

Shit
. I told him Kas’s name.

Holding my face steady, I say, “What? That he’s going to cut you wide open? Because he will. He’ll gut you like a fish—”

“No, bitch. His fucking name.” He takes a menacing step toward me. “Say his fucking name again.”

Saliva floods my mouth. I swallow it down, lift my chin, and hold my bravado. “Kas.”

That’s when I see it. It’s only a brief flicker. If I had blinked, I would have missed it. But he knows Kas’s name.

I smirk, triumphant. “You’ve already met him, haven’t you? Well, I mean, met him again. ’Cause you already knew him, right? From seven years ago. But he’s changed a lot since then. This is what he does, you know.” I lean forward and lower my voice, like I’m telling him a secret. “He gets close and then”—I draw my index finger across my neck, making a slicing sound in my throat—“next thing you know, you’re drowning in your own blood.”

My words hang in the air between us. He looks afraid, and I feel strong.

Then, his face suddenly changes, and he laughs loudly, clutching his stomach with his hand.

And my stomach sinks.

“I fucking had you there, didn’t I?” he crows. “God, you dumb bitch! Did you really think I would give a fuck about your little boyfriend? Do you know how many bitches I’ve raped? How many people I’ve killed? That little cunt and her pansy-ass boyfriend were two in a big-ass pool of people. Let him come. I want him to. It’ll give me a chance to finish what I didn’t get to finish all those years ago.” His eyes narrow and darken on me. “Because I do hate a loose end, Daisy.”

He walks slowly toward me, and I fight against the urge to run. Balling my hands into fists, I bite my lip hard to stop from trembling.

Reaching me, he stops inches away. I can smell the stench of cigarette smoke and cheap aftershave, and I want to gag.

He presses the gun to my chest, pushing the barrel in between my breasts. My legs start to shake.

“You know, the first time I saw you, when Jason brought you around, I noticed how fucking pretty you were. But you always looked so uptight, like you needed a good fucking. And I know how to fuck real good, Daisy. You want that, huh? Me to give it to you good?”