Unsuitable (36 page)

“Kas, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. And you will.” Releasing my arms, he takes my face in his hands. “You’ll do this because it’s the right thing to do. It’s the right thing for Jesse. God, I’m sorry I didn’t get here earlier. Jesus, Daisy, just coming in here and finding him and you—I could have lost you.” His eyes close, as though the pain of remembrance is too much for him to bear.

I lift a trembling hand and press it to his cheek.

He opens his eyes. The shine of tears in them nearly kills me.

He gently brushes his thumb over my swelling eye from where Damien hit me.

His eyes lower. Rage flares in his face as he takes in my half-naked state.

“Jesus.” The word is an agonized sound coming from him. “Did he?”

“No.”

“Thank God.” He pulls me into his arms.

I bury my face in his chest. His hand grips the back of my head, holding me to him.

Unwanted images flash through my mind. I shiver in his arms.

“You’re cold.” He releases me and takes off his shirt.

He holds it up for me to put on. I slip my arms into the sleeves. I don’t bother to button it up. I wrap it around me, keeping it in place with my arms, and I just breathe in his scent surrounding me.

He steps close to me and cradles my face in his hands, handling me like I’m precious goods.

He tilts my face up to his. “I love you,” he says.

I blink, surprised, my heart stilling in my chest.

“What I said last night—that it wasn’t in me to love anyone—I was wrong. So fucking wrong, babe.” He leans in and kisses my lips. “I love you like I didn’t know possible.”

I feel him move away a fraction.

I open my eyes. His are on mine, soulful and filled with so many other emotions that I almost can’t take it.

“I couldn’t save Haley that night,” he whispers. “But I can save you now. Let me take the blame for killing him. Let me do this one last thing for you, babe.”

I feel overwhelmed. My chest is so full with my feelings for him that I can barely breathe.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to. I
need
to, Daisy.”

I stare into his eyes, understanding what he’s saying to me.

“Okay,” I whisper. “Okay, Kas.”

Fo
rty-One

Seven days.

Seven days since I shot and killed Damien Doyle in my living room.

Seven days since Kas told the police that he was the one who had killed Damien.

Him.

Not me.

And it’s been seven days since I last saw him.

After Kas convinced me to let him take the blame, I guess I was in some form of shock.

I mean, I had just killed a man. I guess it would have been weird if I hadn’t gone into shock.

Kas sat me on the sofa with Cece. Then, he went about setting his scene.

I sat there with Cece on the sofa, holding her in my arms, while she sobbed quietly. And I watched, almost abstractly, as Kas wiped down the gun, removing my prints from it. Then, he put it in Damien’s hands, putting his prints back on it. Then, Kas held the gun in his own hand, putting his fingerprint on the trigger, incriminating himself.

He came over and knelt in front of Cece, and he recounted the story to her, the one we were to tell the police.

After he was sure we both had it straight, he called the police.

And we sat there, Cece and me on the sofa, while Kas stood, leaning against the wall across from us, his eyes never swaying from me. And Damien’s body was on the floor between us.

Then, there was a hammering at the front door. A voice yelling that it was the police.

Kas pushed off the wall and calmly walked to the front door.

And that was when all hell broke loose.

The instant the policeman saw the gun on the floor where Kas had placed it, he started yelling at us to get on the floor.

Kas was pushed to the floor by one of the officers, hands behind his head.

Cece and I slid off the sofa and got to our stomachs on the floor.

Then, we were handcuffed and separated.

As if we hadn’t been through enough already.

But I got that the police didn’t know the facts of what had happened. All they knew was that a dead man was in our living room.

They had to be cautious.

Kas was taken from the apartment. I saw him being led away. Our eyes connected for the briefest moment, and I said a hundred things to him in my mind.

Then, he was gone.

I was taken into the kitchen and put in the chair where I sat every morning to have my breakfast. Cece was kept in the living room.

The officer took one look at me, with my beaten-up face, wearing only Kas’s shirt, and he removed the handcuffs. He sat opposite me and started asking questions.

I answered every one.

For the most part, it was the truth. About how I’d come home and Damien was here, and he had Cece tied up with a gun pointed to her. I told the police everything.

The only difference was the ending.

I told them it was Kas holding that gun.

I felt sick about lying. My body shook. The policeman thought I was just in shock.

I was. But I was also a liar.

I am a liar.

Clearly believing me and feeling sympathy for me, he then made me a cup of tea.

“For the shock,” he said.

I didn’t bother to tell him that I didn’t drink tea. When he put it in front of me, I just held the cup in my hands and lifted it to my face, letting the steam warm me.

A paramedic was brought into the kitchen to check me over. She cleaned up my eye, which was swelling up big time.

She asked me if I’d been raped. I glanced down at Kas’s shirt that I was still wearing.

I shook my head. Then, I remembered how close it had come to happening.

If Kas hadn’t come when he did, I’d have been raped…or dead by now.

Cece, too.

He saved us.

I might have pulled the trigger that killed Damien, but Kas was the one who charged a guy with a gun in his hand.

He saved me. Twice now.

After the paramedic finished with me, Cece was brought into the kitchen, a female officer with her.

Cece looked ashen and shook up.

Our eyes met, and a silent conversation passed between us.

She’d lied, too.

I’d made her an accomplice.

I hated myself in that moment.

The female police officer told us that our apartment was now an official crime scene.

We couldn’t stay there. Not that I would have wanted to anyway.

She told us to pack clothes to last us a few days. That we wouldn’t be allowed back until the forensics were done.

Cece and I walked out of our kitchen and into the hall. Our apartment was swarming with police.

I felt her reach for my hand, and she squeezed it.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered.

She didn’t sound like she believed her own words. But I bit my lip and nodded my head.

Then, we silently walked to our bedrooms.

I didn’t want to take Kas’s shirt off. So, I buttoned it up properly and pulled on a pair of jeans. I quickly packed my bag and met Cece back out in the hallway.

Then, the nice policeman who had made me a cup of tea drove us to a hotel. He checked us in and then told us that they’d be in touch in the morning, as we would have to go into the station to give our official statements.

Up in our shared room, I lay in the bed with Cece lying beside me—both of us not even pretending to sleep, but neither of us wanting to speak.

I was still wearing Kas’s shirt. I couldn’t bring myself to take it off. Just having his scent around me was a comfort.

And I thought about Kas. He was all I thought about.

I couldn’t think about what I’d done…killing Damien. I knew I’d break if I did.

So, I pushed that away, and I thought about what Kas had done for me. He’d saved me. Put me before himself. He’d protected me.

No one had ever done anything like that for me before.

And he’d told me that he loved me.

He loves me.

I couldn’t stop the tears after that.

Cece rolled over in bed and wrapped her arms around me. I cried harder. Then, she started to cry, too.

We stayed there, crying together, holding each other, until we fell asleep.

When we woke in the morning, it was to the sound of a knock on the hotel door.

Bleary-eyed, I stumbled out of bed and answered it. It was the policeman who’d driven us here last night. He told me he was there to take us to the station.

He waited in the lobby while Cece and I dressed. I just threw on some yoga pants and a T-shirt. I didn’t bother to shower. I ran a brush through my hair and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

I saw my face in the mirror. My eye was black and swollen. On my chin was another large dark bruise from where Damien had head-butted me.

Tears swam in my eyes as images of the night before filled my head. I started to shake uncontrollably. I had to sit on the edge of the bathtub to steady myself.

I forced the tears to stop. Then, I got to my feet. Eyes avoiding the mirror, I brushed my teeth.

When I came out of the bathroom, Cece was sitting on the bed, waiting for me. Her efforts to dress were about the same as mine.

She stood up, came over, and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I jerked back, staring at her face. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I told her firmly.

“I let him in,” she said. “I didn’t know it was him.”

Cece had never met Damien.

“How would you have known? It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

“No.” It was her turn to be firm. “The only person to blame is that sick fucker, Damien. You saved us, Daisy. You saved my life.” A tear rolled down her face.

I brushed it away. “You lied for me,” I whispered. “You’re going to have to lie again at the station. You shouldn’t have to do that.”

“You’re not going back to prison. I will do anything to keep you out of that place. You’re my best friend. My family. I protect my family.”

I bit my quivering lip. “Kas…he’s in prison…he took the blame.”

“He loves you,” she said.

It was all she said. All that needed to be said.

We left our hotel room and headed downstairs to the lobby where the officer was waiting.

He drove us to the police station.

We were taken into separate interview rooms, and I spent the next few hours telling the same story that I’d told them last night. One officer listened while the other made notes.

I wasn’t even afraid that I might make a mistake and trip myself up. By that point, I was too weary to care.

All I wanted was to see Kas, to know how he was, but no one was telling me anything.

Every time I asked, the answer would be the same. “He’s with our other officers, being questioned, as you are.”

After I finished giving my statement, I was offered some food. I accepted a sandwich even though the thought of eating was the furthest thing from my mind.

I was taken aback when I saw who was bringing my sandwich to me. It was the detective who had arrested me all those years ago.

He took the seat across from me and handed me the sandwich. Then, he proceeded to tell me that Jason Doyle had been found dead in his home early that morning. His body had been there for a day before anyone had found him.

“Suicide,” he said. “Jason slit his wrists,” he said.

And, also, a letter had been found on him, tucked inside his jeans pocket.

It was a confession about the robbery. He said that Jason had detailed everything about the night of the robbery. How it was him and Damien who had planned it. Jason had given him my access card while I was sleeping. Damien had used my key to gain access and rob the place. Then, he’d returned to my place and given Jason the key back along with some jewelry to plant in my apartment.

Just as I had believed it had happened all along.

My name was cleared. After all this time, that black mark against my name was gone.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about Jason being dead.

Relief, I guessed. It was hard to feel anything else.

The detective led me out of the interview room. Cece was waiting for me in the waiting room along with the nice officer who’d driven us here.

He offered to take us back to the hotel. Exhausted, I thanked him and took him up on his offer. We sat in the back of the police car as he drove us through the streets of London.

I watched people walking around, living their everyday lives. Nothing had changed for them.

But, for me, everything had changed.

I would never again be the same.

The officer dropped us at the hotel and told us that they would be in touch soon.

Cece and I got out of the car. I had planned to tell her about Jason as soon as we got to our room, but the minute we walked into the hotel lobby, my eyes locked on Jesse.

He was sitting in a chair, waiting for me, his face lined with worry.

And I burst into tears.

He’d seen the news. Seen what had happened to us. I hadn’t even called him.

I felt like the worst sister in the world. But he didn’t care about that. He just cared that I was okay.

He rushed to me, nearly knocking me off my feet, wrapping his arms around me.

The surge of love I felt for him buckled my knees. So, I clung on to my baby brother and sobbed on his shoulder, telling him how sorry I was.

I was supposed to be the one taking care of him, but there he was, taking care of me.

He hushed me. He told me he was sorry. Sorry for ever doubting me.

That made me cry harder. Then, I heard a sob come from Cece beside us.

Jesse pulled her into our hug, and the three of us stood together, holding each other.

My family.

But there was one person missing.

Kas.

He’s still missing.

Well, not
missing
in the real sense of the word. Just missing from my life.

He was released on bail two days after he was arrested.

And I haven’t heard from him.

I only know he was released because I read it in the papers.

I’ve tried to ring him, but all I’ve gotten is his voice mail. I’ve left voice mail messages, but he hasn’t called. I’ve texted him. But he hasn’t texted back.