Unsuitable (Page 92)

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.

I want to go to the estate, but I’m afraid.

He’s ignoring me. He doesn’t want to speak to me or see me.

So, if I went to see him…forced a confrontation…I’m scared of what he’d say.

On a sigh, I push my key in the door of my apartment and unlock it.

I gingerly push the door open.

We officially have our apartment back. This is my first time being back here since the shooting.

Cece couldn’t face coming back. Honestly, I didn’t want to either.

But we’ve both run out of clean clothes, and we’re in this mess because of me, so coming here was the least I could do for her.

I step inside the hallway, and I’m instantly catapulted back to that day—when I walked in here, happy with a bottle of champagne in my hand.

Back when I wasn’t someone who’d taken another person’s life. Even if the bastard did deserve it.

I walk slowly down the hallway. My eyes catch on the living room door.

It’s closed.

I stand and stare at it.

“Daisy.”

I spin around at the sound of Kas’s soft voice.

He’s standing in the open doorway.

He looks tired. Darkness circles his eyes. His clothes look wrinkled.

And he’s still the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

I part my dry lips. “I called…”

“I know.” He looks away at the wall. “I’m sorry…” He lifts and then drops his shoulder, seemingly at a loss for words.

His eyes come back to mine. There’s an almost pleading look to them.

“I-I heard that you’d gotten out on bail.”

“Yeah.” He pushes his hand through his hair. “My lawyer says I’m looking at self-defense.”

“So, you’re getting off?” I hold my breath.

“Looks that way.”

“Oh, thank God.” I press my hand to my chest, a breath rushing out of me. I feel like an enormous weight has been lifted. “I-I don’t know how to thank you for what you did.”

He holds my eyes, shaking his head, silently telling me to stop.

I bite my lip.

“Is everything going to be all right with Jesse?” he asks. “Are you still allowed to see him?”

“Yes.” I nod, a smile touching my lips. “Before…I didn’t get to tell you, but right before what happened”—my eyes drift back to the living room door—“Anne had called, said they were giving me weekend visitation rights.”

“Were?”

I look back at him. His face is tight with worry.

“Still are.” I give him a soft smile. “I spoke to Anne. She was really good about everything. Brilliant in fact. And, with the truth coming out—did you hear about Jason?”

He nods slowly. Something in his eyes makes my stomach shift.

Did he…

Surely not.

“Jason committed suicide,” I continue, watching him with hawk-like eyes. “He slit his wrists. He also left a note—a confession—clearing my name.”

His eyes move back to the wall. He nods. “I’m glad the truth finally came out.”

I bite my lip, fighting against the words that I’m burning to ask him.

The fight doesn’t last long.

“Was this you, Kas? Did you force Jason to write that letter and then…kill him, making it look like suicide?”

He exhales a sad-sounding breath. Then, his eyes move slowly back to mine. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to protect you.”

I suck in a breath. Tears fill my eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper.

Who is this man? I don’t know what I did to deserve him, but I’m glad I found him—or, as the case is, that he found me.

I can’t even bring myself to feel any sadness or remorse for Jason. He put me in prison and then sold me out to his brother. He had to have known what Damien was going to do to me.

Blowing out a breath, I press the back of my hand to my eyes, drying away the tears. “And thank you for what you said to Anne about me.”

His eyes flash with confusion.

“You spoke to her on the telephone before this all happened.”

“I only spoke the truth.”

“Regardless, it helped a lot.”

He shifts on his feet. “So, things are looking good for Jesse coming home?”

“Yes.” I smile. “Even with…what happened. The fact that I’m”—I stall on the word—“innocent of the crime I was put in prison for and that my name is in the process of officially being cleared, I guess it holds a lot of clout with Social Services.” I bind my hands together in front of me. “They no longer see me as a risk to Jesse…even though what happened…happened. Because Damien and Jason are dead, I guess they see it as being over. I think.”

“It is over,” his words are spoken softly.

But, for some reason, they hurt.

Almost like he’s saying we are over…

“Nothing that happened that day was your fault, Daisy. You saved us…you saved me. So, don’t ever blame yourself for what happened. Don’t hold on to it because it will eat you up.” He sounds like he’s speaking from experience.

I guess he is.