Unsuitable

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.

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.

“Damien was always going to die. You just beat me to it.” The corner of his lip tips up into a half-smile, making me smile.

Then, it drops when I remember the reason I’m smiling.

I killed a man. Just like Kas has.

I guess we have more in common now than we ever did before.

Mirroring him, I wrap my arms over my chest. “How did you know that Damien was here that day?” I ask him the question that’s been plaguing me for a while now.

“I didn’t. It was just lucky timing.”

“So, why were you here?”

“To see you.”

“Why?”

He sighs. “Because being without you just didn’t feel like an option.”

My heart constricts at his words. But something tells me there’s a but in those words.

“And now?” I ask quietly.

He blows out a breath, pushing his hands into his pockets, his eyes making friends with the carpet. “And, now…it still doesn’t feel like an option, but…”

And there it is.

I tighten my arms around my suddenly cold chest. “But?”

He lifts his eyes to mine, and what I see in them makes my heart break.

“I’m leaving, Daisy. Once the thing is sorted with the police, I’m leaving.”

He’s leaving.

“Oh.” I step back, needing the distance, though wanting to be closer to him now more than ever.

He exhales roughly. Freeing his arm, he shoves a hand through his hair. “You’re so close to getting Jesse back, and being with me, it would hinder that. I might be close to getting off with self-defense, but in the eyes of the law, I killed a man. I have killed men. In cold blood. There’s no coming back from that, Daisy.”

“I’ve killed someone, too.”

Fierce black eyes meet with mine. “You need to forget that ever happened.”

“You want me to forget when you won’t allow yourself to forget?”

“It’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I fucking deserve to remember everything. You don’t.”

“Bullshit!” I snap. “This is bullshit! You’re leaving me here, and I’m just supposed to accept that? Fuck you, Kas.”

“Daisy…” He takes a step toward me. “You know I’m right. If I stay here, you won’t get Jesse back. They’ll use me as a reason to keep him from you—”

“No, they won’t. Anne said—”

“Daisy,” he reasons. Taking my face in his hands, he forces my eyes up to his. Tears are filling them. “I don’t want to be—I can’t be the reason you don’t get Jesse back. You’d resent me. End up hating me. I couldn’t bear it if that happened.”

He’s right. I know he’s right. Just the selfish part of me doesn’t want to let him go.

The selfish part of me wants it all.

Wants him and Jesse.

But I know, in the real world, the two things just don’t go together.

Jesse has to come first. He will always come first.

Turning, I step away from Kas.

“Your name is clear,” he says from behind me. “You can do anything. Go anywhere. Make a better life for yourself and Jesse. You don’t need a screwed up fuck like me holding you back.”

I spin around, ready to argue, but he holds a hand up, stopping me.

“And I need time, Daisy.” His eyes hold mine, a thousand emotions running through them. None of them are good. “I need to find out who I am.” His words cut me down. “I’ve spent the last seven years of my life chasing revenge, being obsessed with it…and, now…” He blows out a breath, looking lost. “I need time,” he whispers.

He’s leaving. He’s really leaving.

I want to curl up into a ball on the floor and cry.

But I don’t.

I do what I always do. I hold steady. “Where will you go?” I ask quietly.

“Greece. If you still need the job at the estate, I’m hiring someone to run it—”

I shake my head.

I couldn’t go there every day and see that place. See the bed where he once made love to me…

“If you need money,” he says.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I know you will be.”

I lift my eyes to him to see a sad smile touching his lips.

And I don’t look away. I keep staring at him, soaking in every detail of him, knowing it’s the last time I’m ever going to see him.

And he stares right back at me.

My heart is beating painfully. I’m slowly dying on the inside.

I have to get away from him. I need to stop feeling this way.

But I’m not ready to leave him yet.

Deep down, I know I’ll never be ready.

“So…” I hear myself saying, breaking our quiet.

Kas doesn’t speak. He just walks over to me. And, when he reaches me, he takes my face in his hands. His eyes roam my features, like he’s drinking me in.

My mouth is dry. There are hot tears behind my eyes, and my throat feels like it’s about to crack.

“Daisy…” he whispers my name. He slowly brings his mouth to mine, only closing his eyes when our lips meet.

He softly kisses me, tasting me, letting his tongue slide along mine.

Tears fill my eyes as I memorize the feel of him against me, the way he kisses me.

Then, he deepens the kiss, clutching me to him. And I match him stroke for stroke.

“I love you,” he breathes against my lips. “That will never change, no matter where I am.”

I love you, too.

Don’t leave me, please.

The words are on the tip of my tongue.

But I never say them.

I have to let him go. For his sake. For Jesse’s. And for mine.

“Will I ever see you again?” I breathe through the agony.

He tugs me into his arms and hugs me tight. “Thank you,” he whispers, answering my question without actually saying the words. “You brought me back to life, Daisy, and for that, I will never be able to repay you.”

I’m never going to see him again.

My heart splinters in two.

He removes his arms from around me, leaving me cold. He stares down at me and gives me a sad smile. “Good-bye, Daisy Smith.”

I swallow past my tears. “Good-bye, Kastor Matis,” I whisper.

He touches my cheek with his hand one last time, and then he turns and walks out of my apartment and out of my life, taking a piece of my broken heart with him.