Unsuitable(104)

“Shh…it’s okay.” I smooth a hand over her hair. “It’s okay.” I ease out of her arms and untie her ankles.

She gets to her feet and hugs me again. Her body is shaking. Mine, too.

I’m afraid to turn around because I know, if I do, I’ll see Damien’s body again.

“Daisy.” Kas’s soft voice carries to me, turning me around.

I look at him, but my eyes instantly track to the body on the floor.

I killed a man.

My whole body starts to shake. “I killed him…Kas,” I whisper. “I shot him and—”

“No.” He grabs my upper arms again and lowers his head, so we’re at eye-level. Black eyes stare deep into mine. “You didn’t kill him, Daisy. Do you hear me? It was me that pulled that trigger. I was the one who shot Damien. Not you. Me.”

My head starts to shake. Tears fill my eyes at the enormity of what he’s saying. “No,” I choke out.

“Yes.”

“Please, Kas. I can’t—”

“Yes, you can, and you will. You’ll let me do this because there’s a kid out there who needs you. Jesse needs you.” He drives the point home with his eyes. “I killed Doyle. I’d come here to see you. Had heard your screams through the door and burst in to find Doyle trying to rape you. Cece was bound and gagged on the sofa. I lunged for Doyle. We fought. I managed to wrestle his gun off him. I got to my feet and pointed the gun at him, but he came for me again. So, I shot him. But he didn’t go down with that first bullet. He came again, so I pulled the trigger a second time, and he went down. All the time, you were on the floor, unmoving, in shock.”

“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.”





Forty-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.