Unsuitable (16 page)

“Perfect,” I say before Jesse can say anything. Standing, I hang my bag on my shoulder. “I won’t be able to accompany him, as I’m at work until six. But I’ll give you my number in case you need it. If Jesse doesn’t turn up, then you have my permission to call the police and report the attempted theft.”

Jeff smiles at me and hands me a pad and pen. I scribble my number down and hand it back to him.

Then, I turn to Jesse. “Let’s go.” I give a jerk of my head, and then I turn for the door.

I hear him following behind me.

I don’t speak until we’re outside.

I stop abruptly and turn to him. “What the hell were you thinking?” I throw my hands up in the air.

That defiance, mixed with good old anger and resentment, flashes through his eyes. “Thought I’d join the family business.”

“This isn’t a joke, Jesse! You were lucky that he didn’t call the cops!”

He folds his arms and frowns down at me. “Maybe I wanted him to. I’ve heard that prison is cushy. Might be better than where I am now.”

My eyes widen, and fear bangs my heart against my chest. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I bite.

“No? Then, why don’t you tell me?” he challenges.

“Because you don’t need to know.” I lift my eyes to his, trying to convey my feelings. “No kid needs to know what the inside of a prison is like.”

His brows draw together in anger. “I’m not a kid,” he grinds out.

“Yes, you are!” I snap. “You’re my kid!” The words are out before I can stop them.

His eyes ignite with something that makes my stomach twist. “I’m not
your
kid!” he yells. “I don’t have parents!”

Something snaps inside me, and I don’t care that there are people around, listening. “Yes, you do! You have me!” I slam a hand to my chest. “On paper, I might be your sister, but I raised you, Jesse! Changed your nappies! Fed you! Clothed! Nursed you when you were sick! Read you bedtime stories! Went to all of your school plays!
I
raised you!”

“And then you fucking left me!” he roars.

The pain in his words is so apparent, and it takes me back a step, like a blade going through my chest. I can’t even pull him up for swearing. In the grand scheme of things, Jesse saying a curse word is nothing.

He’s hurting. Because of me.

“You…left,” he whispers.

And the ache of his words only intensifies, like the blade in my chest is being twisted.

“Jesse”—I step closer to him—“you have to know that I didn’t want to leave. I would have done
anything
to stay with you.
Anything
.”

His eyes flash to mine. “But you didn’t though, did you, Daisy? You stole from that place, knowing what the consequences would be. Or did you just not care? Or were you that arrogant that you thought you wouldn’t get caught?”

He still thinks I’m guilty. Even now. Even though I told him in person that I was innocent, he still doesn’t believe me.

I can’t express the torment I feel at that.

I wrap my arms over my chest. My words come quietly. “You know me, Jesse. I’m not a thief. Deep down inside of you, you know I didn’t steal that jewelry. You know I would never have done something like that.”

Not meeting my eyes, he lets out a scoffing sound. It reignites something inside me.

“You can fool yourself into believing it’s the truth—that I’m this thief who never cared about you—because you think it justifies your anger and your current behavior. But you know it’s not the truth. You know that I would never have done
anything
to risk losing you.”

His eyes come to mine. I can’t get a read on them.

“Why should I believe you?” His voice is still toneless.

“Because I’ve never given you a reason
not
to believe me. I was there, Jesse…through everything. I never walked away. The only reason I left was because I was taken away without a choice. But I’m back now. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never leave. I’ll never let anyone take me away again. But you have to let me in.
Please
.”

Sighing, he looks away and runs a hand through his hair. When he brings his eyes back to me, I see the hardness in them has softened.

“Why didn’t you let me come see you in prison?” he asks in a low voice.

I’m transported back years. He sounds just like the boy I remember.

My heart breaks in this moment. I can’t stop the tears that fill my eyes.

Biting my lip, I brush the tears away with my fingers. “Because I didn’t want you coming to that place…seeing me like that. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t think about you every day. The thought of you was the
only
thing that got me through those eighteen months.”

I reach out a hand to touch him but pull it back, unsure of if he wants me to touch him.

His eyes are on the ground. He exhales a tired-sounding breath. “I have to go,” he says softly, toeing the concrete with his shoe.

“Can I walk you home?”

He shakes his head, eyes still on the ground. “But…you can call me later, if you want?”

My heart soars, and I can’t help the smile that spreads on my face. “I’d love that.”

Jesse lifts his eyes to mine. He brushes his overgrown hair out of them. “Cool. Well, I guess we’ll talk later then.”

“Definitely.”

I watch Jesse walk away with a hope in my heart that I haven’t dared allow myself to feel in a very long time.

Ni
neteen

Feeling happier than I have in forever, I hum along to the song that’s been stuck in my head all morning—Gnash’s “I Hate You, I Love You.”

I’m happy because I called Jesse last night, and we talked for ages.

We’re not fixed, not by a long shot, but we’re talking, and that’s more than I had this time yesterday.

Jesse said he’d call me tonight after he got done cleaning the windows at the mini-mart. I’m hoping he’ll let me see him this weekend, but I’m not getting my hopes up too much. I’m just happy that I have this contact with him.

I’m currently on my way to Kas’s office. I have a coffee in one hand and a bag of muffins in the other, which I got from the bakery just by the station. I don’t actually know if Kas likes muffins, but I just want to thank him for yesterday. What says thank-you better than spongy goodness?

I’m choosing to forget about the fact that we almost kissed after our horse ride, and I’m also choosing to forget his reaction…the disgust.

I feel a sting of hurt in my chest.

Okay, so, clearly, I haven’t forgotten entirely. But he helped me so much yesterday. Dropped everything to take me to Jesse. Let me have the afternoon off work.

So what if he thinks I’m not good enough to kiss, that I’m beneath him or whatever?

It doesn’t matter. He helped me get to Jesse, and that’s all I care about.

And it’s a good thing that we didn’t kiss. A kiss would have made things messy and possibly put my job at risk.

I need this job. Now more than ever.

Reaching Kas’s office, I knock on the door.

No answer.

I wonder where he is. He’s nowhere else in the house that I know of. Maybe he’s out running.

Should I go look for him, so I can give them to him? Or I could just put them in his office.

Yeah, I’ll put them in his office. That’ll be a nice surprise for him.

Decision made, I push down on the handle of the door and let myself inside.

His office is pristine, as always. I hardly ever get to clean in here because he doesn’t let me, so I can’t take credit for the cleanliness.

I walk over to his desk and put the bag of muffins and coffee down on it.

I grab his Post-it notes and pen.

KAS,

THANK YOU FOR YESTERDAY.

DAISY

Should I put a kiss?

No, that’d be too weird. Especially after yesterday.

Leaving it as it is, I pull the Post-it from the pad and stick it to the front of the muffin bag.

I’ve just put the pen down when a door to my left opens, and in walks Kas.

His eyes go wide on me. He quickly slams the door shut behind him. “What are you doing in here?” His words are quick and biting.

“I was just leaving a thank-you coffee and muffins. I knocked, but there was no answer.” My eyes go to the door that Kas is standing in front of, like a guard.

Has that door always been there? I don’t remember seeing it before.

“Well, if there’s no answer when you knock at a door, it generally means no one’s there, and you come back later. It’s not a fucking invitation to come on in.” His tone is crass.

It pisses me off.

And I really hate it when he swears at me.

“Seriously?” My eyes drag back to him. “I have to come in rooms in this house to clean them, and they have to be empty for that to happen.”

“Were you coming in here to clean?”

“No, but—”

“But what?” he snaps.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” My voice rises an octave.

His eyes widen and then flash to the coffee and bag on his desk. He stares at them for a long moment.

My pulse is thrumming in my neck, and I feel hot.

Very slowly, he brings his eyes back to mine. “Well, you’ve said thank you, and now, you can go.”

I feel stupid.

I don’t know what I expected from bringing him a little thank-you gift. Maybe a smile. A,
You didn’t have to
. I didn’t expect him to be a wanker.

Why am I surprised?

This is who he is—Kas-hole.

Honestly, I don’t know why I bothered.

Screw him.

I’m about to turn and leave, but my eyes snag on that door he’s still guarding like a sentry.

Why don’t I remember that door? I’ve been in here a handful of times before, and I don’t remember it being there. And doors don’t just magically appear.

I nod my head at the door. “You didn’t show me that room on my tour of this place. Is it a room I need to clean?”

“No,” he snaps, his tone low and dark.

Something has shifted in his expression. He still looks angry, but he also looks…uncomfortable. It’s there in his eyes.

His discomfort pricks my attention because one thing Kas never is, is uncomfortable.

Arrogant? Mean? Angry? A prick? Yes, to all of those things.

But never uncomfortable.

“Okay.” I take a step back. Turning, I pivot on my heel to leave.

His voice hits my back when I reach the door. “My office is off-limits to you now. I don’t want you coming in here. Ever.”

I stop in the open doorway and turn back to him. “Yes, Mr. Matis.” I even curtsy, just to be a bitch.

He frowns. And, with darkness on his face and in his eyes, he turns away from me.

I grab the door handle and start to pull the door closed. But not before I see Kas pull a key from his pocket and put that key in the mystery door to lock it.

An hour later, I’m head in the oven, cleaning it, when I hear footsteps come in the kitchen.

I know it’s Kas by his footfalls.

How sad is that? That I know him by the sound of his steps.

Well, whatever.

I’m still pissed at him. He’s a dick, and I’m ignoring him. I’m not in the mood to be yelled at again.

His presence has reignited my flame of anger, and it’s turned into a raging inferno.

I continue scrubbing the oven clean, probably harder than necessary.

“Daisy,” he says my name softly.

His voice is like a gentle brush of fingers over my skin, which breaks out in goose bumps.

Why does he so easily affect me?

It’s annoying. He’s a knobhead. A big knobhead who yells at me all the time.

Fixing steel into my spine, I ignore my traitorous skin, and I ignore him.

I hear him sigh loudly behind me.

“Daisy…earlier…I acted like a total dick. I’m…sorry.”

What?

My head jerks up with my shock at his apology, and I smack it on the roof of the oven.

“Shit!” I wince. Dropping the cleaning sponge, my rubber glove–covered hand goes immediately to my head.

I pull back out of the oven, rubbing at the sore spot.

“Are you okay?” Kas’s voice comes from close behind me.

“I’m fine,” I huff.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” Without looking at him, I walk over to the sink.

I yank the rubber gloves off with more force than necessary. I toss them on the side of the sink and start washing my hands.

He might have said sorry, but I’m still mad, and I think I have a right to be.

Sure, he pays my wages, but that doesn’t give him the right to be an almighty tosser to me ninety percent of the time. It negates all the times he has been nice to me. And his lame-arse sorry resulted in me smacking my head. So, yeah, there’s that as well.

I hear him move, and then he’s standing beside me, his back leaning against the kitchen counter. He curls his hands around the edge.

I don’t look at him. I stay focused on washing my hands, which are already clean. I just need something to do with my hands, or I might do something crazy, like strangle him.

“Daisy…”

I shut off the tap and grab the hand towel from the counter. Walking away, I dry my hands.