Unsuitable

I’m home alone, curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine. The TV’s on, but I’m not really watching it.

Cece’s working late at the salon; she won’t be home until nine p.m.

Seriously, who gets their hair done that late?

Cece said she has lots of women who come in to get their hair done for a night out. I don’t know if I could be bothered. But I guess, if they have a man to get all dolled up for, it might be worth it.

I was supposed to be out with Cooper tonight for that drink, but I canceled. I was going to do the chicken thing—avoid him at work and just text him—but I knew it would be the coward’s way out, and he deserved better than that. I went down to the stables on my lunch break and told him that I couldn’t make it. At first, he thought I just couldn’t make it that night and offered to rearrange. So, I had to tell him the truth. Well, the closest version of the truth that I could give. I told him that I just didn’t think it was a good idea. That I had a lot going on right now, and that I was also still getting over my last relationship.

It wasn’t a total lie. I am still recovering from what Jason did to me—stealing eighteen months of my life and also the prior six months that I spent with him.

And, also, I need to get past these feelings that I have for Kas.

They’ve come on quick and strong and totally out of the blue, but they’re there.

It’s weird to me that I can have feelings for a guy who, half of the time, I have the strong urge to punch in the face.

I didn’t see Kas at all for the rest of the day yesterday. He stayed holed up in his office. The only reason I knew he was in there was because his car was still outside.

I might have checked.

But it was good that I didn’t see him, as I wasn’t in the mood for another argument. And, honestly, we don’t have anything to argue about anymore because whatever was going on between us is done.

I just don’t understand him. Why he’s like he is. I mean, I got the impression that he wanted me when he was kissing me—his erection spoke loud and clear—but then, the next minute, he was pushing me away and running, like his arse had just been lit on fire. At first, I thought it was because he thought I wasn’t good enough for him. But his emphatic reaction to that was genuine.

“I’m not good enough for you, Daisy. You deserve a good man, a better man…and that’s not me.”

He thinks he isn’t good enough for me. He thinks he isn’t a good man.

Why?

“I don’t know how to do this…relationships.”

Why can’t he do relationships?

My thoughts go back to that photograph. The photograph that I have in my phone.

It’s been bugging me all day. I just know this photograph is important to him. The fact that he keeps it in his nightstand drawer beside his bed tells me that.

And the curious part of me wants to know who she is to Kas. Why does he have a seven-year-old photograph of this girl in his nightstand?

Maybe he loved her. Maybe she broke his heart. Maybe she’s why he’s a head case when it comes to women.

But it’s not like I can ask him because then he’d know that I was snooping in his drawer. Technically, I wasn’t. I found it by mistake, but I know what he’d think.

And he probably wouldn’t tell me anyway. He doesn’t tell me anything. He’s locked up so tight. I know nothing about him.

I only know his name and where he lives because I work for him. I know how he takes his coffee and that his best friend is Jude. Oh, and he has a horse called Danger, whom he rescued. But that’s it.

I don’t know when his birthday is. Or what his favorite food is. If he likes to read. If he has a favorite band he likes to listen to.

It’s so frustrating.

But I shouldn’t care because I’m done with him. So, it doesn’t matter.

Sure, you are, Daisy. That’s why you’re sitting here, thinking about him.

Ugh!

I hate that he’s gotten so easily under my skin.

I want answers from him, but I know I’m not going to get them, so I’ll find some out for myself.

Grabbing Cece’s laptop off the coffee table, I power it up. I open up Google and type in, Kastor Matis.

Not much comes up. Just the Matis Estate’s website but no photos of him. He doesn’t even have a Facebook profile.

But then again, neither do I.

I used to have one, but I shut it down after I was arrested. I didn’t want people writing anything unsavory on my wall.

I tap the keys, frustrated.

Then, I delete Kas’s name from the search box and type in, Haley Halliwell.

My screen fills with results. The top result is a clinical therapist.

Heart pumping, feeling like I’m doing something really wrong, I click on the link. The picture is of an older woman who looks to be in her fifties.

Definitely not her.

I back out and click on the Images tab. The screen fills with pictures. The first one is of that therapist woman. Then, sitting just below that is the picture I found in Kas’s drawer. The picture in my phone.

I grab my phone and pull the picture up, just to compare.

It’s definitely her.

I click on the picture, and it enlarges with a caption and a link. Then, my body freezes cold at the words.

Girl, 17, Murdered on Prom Night

Murdered?

She was murdered? Surely not. It can’t be the same girl.

I look at the words on the back of the picture.

HALEY HALLIWELL. PROM. 2009.

Prom.

She was murdered after that picture was taken.

Oh God.

Hand trembling, I glide my finger across the trackpad to move the arrow over the link and click.

The screen fills with a news story dated June 7, 2009, headed with the same line as the caption.

Girl, 17, Murdered on Prom Night

To the right is the picture of Haley that I found in Kas’s nightstand. Beneath that picture is a caption.

Haley Halliwell, 17, body found in Hyde Park.

I scroll down to the article and start reading.

Late Saturday evening, a dog walker discovered the body of Haley Halliwell, 17, along with another unidentified person, who is currently in the hospital in critical condition, sources say. Halliwell had been attending her high school prom at the Marriott Hotel on Park Lane. Reports are not detailing much at the moment, and the police are remaining tight-lipped, but the unofficial report is that Halliwell was sexually assaulted, and the cause of death is assumed to be a result of multiple stab wounds. Police are urging any witnesses to come forward.

I cover my mouth with my hand, feeling sick. She was sexually assaulted and stabbed to death.

Oh God.

My eyes scan back over the text.

Late Saturday evening, a dog walker discovered the body of Haley Halliwell, 17, along with another unidentified person, who is currently in the hospital in critical condition.

Another unidentified person, who is currently in the hospital in critical condition.

Who was the other person? Who was she with? Did that person die as well?

Desperate to know, I open up a new window and type, Haley Halliwell, murder, 2009.

My screen fills with countless news stories. I skip the first link, as it’s the one I already read. I click on the next link.

Police reports now state that Haley Halliwell attended her high school prom on the evening of Saturday, June 6, 2009. At approximately eleven p.m., Halliwell and her companion—who will remain unnamed but has been identified to police and is not listed as a suspect in the case—entered Hyde Park to take a stroll after the festivity. Shortly after entering the grounds, Halliwell and her companion were approached by three unidentified males. Halliwell was sexually assaulted by more than one of the assailants. She also suffered from multiple stab wounds, but the actual cause of death was strangulation. Her companion—who was also attacked, suffering from multiple stab wounds to the torso—is currently in the hospital in critical condition.

It is still uncertain if they expect the victim to live.

I swallow back hard. Backing out, I go to another link.

Police are still searching for clues in the Haley Halliwell murder case. Authorities are appealing for anyone with any information to come forward.

All the reports seem to say the same. But there’s nothing about the other victim, if he or she survived, or if they caught the bastards who had done it.

Was the other victim Kas?

Bile rises in my throat at the thought.

I open another window and type in, Kastor Matis, Haley Halliwell, murder, 2009.

I scan the news stories, but Kas’s name isn’t mentioned in any. I delete the search and type in, Haley Halliwell, 2009, murder solved.

I click on the first link. It’s dated June 6, 2010.

A year later, police are still appealing for any witnesses in connection to the brutal rape and murder of Haley Halliwell to come forward. Halliwell, 17 at the time, had been attending her high school prom and then left with a friend to take a walk in Hyde Park. Her body was later found by a passerby. She had been raped and murdered. No suspects have been found so far in the horrific crime that has rocked the community.

They never found them. Her murder went unsolved. It was never mentioned if the other person lived or died. But I’m assuming that person lived; otherwise, they would have named him or her. It wouldn’t have just been known as the Haley Halliwell murder.

Kas knew and quite possibly loved a girl who was murdered in such a brutal way. And he might have also been with her on the night she was murdered.

My phone rings, startling me.

I scoop it up to see that it’s Jesse calling.

I take a few breaths to make myself sound normal. “Hey you,” I answer. “How are you doing?”

Things have been going well between Jesse and me since the shoplifting incident. We talk almost every day, and we text regularly.

“Hey, what are you up to?”

My eyes flicker to the laptop screen. I shut the lid down. “Uh, just watching TV. Cece’s working late. What are you up to?”

“Just got back from footy practice.”

“Yeah? How did it go?”

“All right.” I can just imagine him shrugging as he says it.

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?”

“Just gonna chill. Watch some TV. So…I was wondering…well, I was wondering if you’d fancy doing something tomorrow?”

My heart lifts. “With you?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, and that laugh touches my heart and makes it soar.

“Of course,” I say, my voice pitching higher with excitement. “I would love that. What were you thinking?”

“I thought we could catch a train down to Brighton—you know, like we used to. Hang out on the beach, as the weather’s supposed to be good tomorrow. And there’s a fair on at the moment as well.”

“Sounds great.” I smile. My heart is close to bursting in my chest. “So, should I pick you up tomorrow? I can get a taxi to yours and then have it take us to the train station.”

“Sounds great.”

“What time?”

“What time are the trains?”

“Hmm, not sure. How about I check the train times, and then text you to let you know?”

“Cool. Okay, well, I’ll get off. See you tomorrow.”

“See you then.”

I’m beaming when I hang up the phone. I clutch it to my chest, happiness filling me.

Jesse wants to spend the day with me! He actually called me and asked me to spend the day with him!

I can’t wait to tell Cece!

Okay, so I need train times for tomorrow.

I open up the lid on the laptop, ready to look up times, and I pause at the sight of Haley’s picture alongside the news story I was reading.

My good mood instantly disintegrates.

She was murdered. And Kas might have been the one who was with her the night it happened.

The things he could have witnessed…

The thought makes me sick.

Even if he weren’t there, he knew Haley, and she was murdered.

Kas’s harsh, abrasive, angry ways are starting to make sense in my mind now. Because, if he witnessed what happened…and was hurt…

I close my eyes against the horrific thoughts.

I should talk to him about this. But what the hell would I say? I mean, how in the hell do you bring something like that up?

And, also, I shouldn’t know about Haley. That picture was among his private things, and I snooped.

Snooping aside, how in the world would I explain Googling her because I was jealous and curious?

I’d sound like a bloody stalker.

I should just pretend like I don’t know.

But how the hell am I supposed to look him in the eye and pretend like I don’t know that something terrible happened to someone he cared about?

And, if he were the other person there…then the terrible things happened to him, too.

I can’t bear to think of him hurt and in pain.

Opening my eyes, I close out the opened windows, clearing my screen of the news stories.

I can’t think about it now.

Right now, I just need to look up the train times for tomorrow. I need to focus on Jesse. He’s what matters.

And Kas…he matters, but I just don’t know how to handle this.

It’s my own fault for snooping, but now, I know, and I don’t know what to do.

I should ask Cece for her advice. But I feel like, if I told her, then I’d be betraying his confidence. Technically, I wouldn’t be, but I’ve invaded his privacy enough. I have to keep this to myself.

I’ll just have to figure out what to do.

Maybe, when I see him next, I’ll just know.

But, right now, keeping it to myself seems like the safest option.

I type in the train website and start to look up the train times. I focus my mind on that and the fun I’ll have with Jesse tomorrow, keeping my thoughts off of anything related to Kastor Matis.