Unsuitable

by Samantha Towle

  I spent a good few minutes eyeballing his office door before I started on with work of my own.

  I was so caught up in it all that I didn’t even ring Cece to tell her that Kas and I had actually slept together.

  But I think that’s what stung most of all. I had given all of myself to him last night, and I thought he’d given me the same in return.

  How wrong was I?

  I’d spent the night in his arms, and the very next morning, he looked me straight in the eyes and lied to me.

  I could’ve confronted him about the lie, but I knew it would be pointless. He wouldn’t have lied to me and tried to make it like I was losing my marbles if he’d ever planned on telling me the truth.

  I just don’t get it. Why lie about the existence of a door—a door that I know was there?

  That’s only made me curious, which isn’t necessarily a good thing. Now, I want to know what’s behind that door—or bookcase, as it now is. My curiosity is burning, and I am going to find out.

  There might be nothing there, and my search might be fruitless. But he lied about it for a reason, and I want to know that reason.

  With frustration and restless energy burning through me, I bend down and tie the laces on my trainers before letting myself out of my apartment. I’m heading out for my early-morning run before work. I need to clear my head, and running is the only way to do it.

  I jog down the stairs of my building and let myself out the main door. The cool morning air hits my face, nipping at my cheeks.

  Letting the door close behind me, I stand there for a moment. Hands on hips, I tip my head back to face the sky, watching the clouds drift over, as I take some deep breaths of fresh air.

  Steady breaths in and out.

  See? I’m starting to feel better already.

  “Daisy.”

  My body freezes at the sound of that voice. I know that voice. I know it well.

  And there goes my good feeling.

  Heart pounding, I lower my head, and my eyes meet with the one person I never wanted to see again. “Jason.”

  He’s standing a few feet away, and I’m glad to say he looks terrible. His eyes are bloodshot, dark rings circling them. His hair looks like it hasn’t been washed or cut since I last saw him, and his clothes are crumpled. He looks a mess.

  “What are you doing here?” I’m not surprised at the level of anger in my voice.

  “Daisy.” He takes a step forward.

  Everything inside me screams to step away, but hatred and pride have my feet firmly set in place.

  The breeze blows between us, and I get a strong whiff of alcohol.

  “Are you drunk right now?” I scowl.

  He lets out a low laugh. It sounds pitiful. Unsurprisingly, I can’t find a shred of sympathy for him.

  “If you drink constantly, does that constitute as being drunk, or is it just your normal state?”

  “I’m not in the mood for games, Jason. Why the fuck are you here?”

  “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you swear.”

  “Yeah, well, prison will change a girl. Now. What. Do. You. Want?” My hands are clenched into fists at my sides.

  “I just…” He softly shakes his head. “I just heard you were out, and I needed to see you. Needed to see that you were okay.”

  I slap him. Hard.

  The sound rings out in the silence surrounding us. And my hand stings like a bitch.

  That is the first time I have ever hit anyone.

  I don’t feel better for it.

  My adrenaline spiked, my body is shaking, and my chest is heaving with heavy breaths, like I’ve just run a marathon.

  I want to cry. And scream.

  Seriously, it never rains, but it fucking pours. I fall for Kas, and he lies to me. And, the very next morning, my lying bastard of an ex turns up on my doorstep.

  I have the worst luck of anyone ever.

  Unfocused eyes come back to mine. “I deserved that.” His words are soft.

  “You deserve more,” I grit out.

  He gently nods his head, eyes unfocused.

  Everything in me starts to hurt from the bad memories of what he put me through, everything I had to endure, and everything I lost because of him.

  “Why, Jason?” I don’t even realize I’m crying until a tear drips off my chin. I swipe it away with the back of my hand. “I lost everything. I lost Jesse, the most important thing in my life, and he was put in a group home! A fucking group home!” My voice is rising with each enraging word I speak. “And I can’t even have him back now. I get to see him on weekends while I prove to Social Services that I’m fit to care for him. And that is all because of you!”

  I shove my hands into his chest, and he stumbles back a step.

  “You set me up! I went to prison because of you! And I know it was you because there was no one else it could’ve been. And seeing you here now just confirms it! And you have the fucking audacity to come here because you need to know that I’m okay? Well, no, I’m not okay!” I scream that last part. And I don’t care if I wake the whole goddamn building up. I’ve earned the right to scream.

  His eyes nervously dart around.

  It serves to remind me that Cece is only a few floors up, and she might hear. I don’t want to pull her into this. If she finds out Jason is here…God help him. And I don’t want Cece going to prison for murder.

  Looking at the pavement, I pull in a few calming breaths, clenching my fists in and out.

  I look up and stare at his pitiful face.

  I can’t see the Jason I knew.

  God, I used to care about this man. I trusted him. And, right now, I can’t see one single reason why that ever was.

  “I shouldn’t have come,” he whispers. “It was a mistake.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” I snap.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbles as he starts to back away.

  “Yeah, and I’m sorry I ever met you.”

  He pauses, lifting guilt-ridden eyes to mine. “I’m sorry you met me, too, Daisy. You were the best thing that ever happened to me—”

  “So, why?” I bang my hand to my chest. “You ruined my life, Jason. I went to prison because of you.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “You keep saying that, but you’re not sorry. If you were, then you’d tell me the truth. You’d admit that you set me up. You’d tell me who else was involved.”

  “I…Jesus…” He drives his hands into his hair, gripping the strands. “I didn’t have a choice, okay? I never wanted to hurt you.”

  He didn’t have a choice?

  “What do you mean, you didn’t have a choice?”

  His eyes dart away from me. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

  “No.” I step closer to him. “Who?” He says nothing, so I decide to push further. “Was it…Damien?”

  I know I’ve hit the nail on the head because haunted, panicked eyes flash to mine.

  Anger floods my veins.

  I always knew it was the both of them, and seeing the confirmation on Jason’s face…it makes me want to slap him again and again and again. And then haul his drunken, pathetic arse to the police station and force him to tell them the truth.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” I take another step closer, fury urging me on. “It was Damien. He had you take that key from my bag while I was sleeping, and you gave it to him. He robbed the jewelry store, and then he brought the key back to you. You put it back in my bag and planted the jewelry in my apartment, so the cops would find it. God, I’m right, aren’t I? Just admit it, Jason. For once in your miserable little life, tell the truth!”

  I know I’ve pushed too far and too hard when I see the fury hit his eyes. A look passes over his face that makes my heart putter to a stop.

  Jason’s not built like Kas. He’s actually a lot skinnier than he was when we were together, but he’s still a hell of a lot bigger than me.

  And, now, I’m quickly calculating the distance to see if I
can make it back into my building before he can catch me.

  He’s drunk. I might make it.

  And it’s like he’s read my mind because he catches hold of my upper arm, gripping tightly, his fingers biting into my skin.

  He was never violent with me while we were together, but I’m not feeling so sure that he wouldn’t be that way now.

  He steps up into my space, so close that I can smell the rank stench of the alcohol he drank on his breath.

  “Let me go,” I grind out, teeth clenched.

  But he doesn’t let go. I try to pull my arm free, but it doesn’t work. It’s like he doesn’t even feel me right now.

  “God, I loved you, Daisy. So much. You were so good. So pure. Too good for the likes of me, but I wanted you anyway. And the way you used to look at me…”

  “Love?” I give a bitter laugh. “You don’t know the meaning of the word. And, honestly, I’d have rather had your hate because look what your so-called love gave me—a six-by-eight room in a prison block.”

  Guilt flashes in his eyes. He draws his gaze away from me. “I did the best I could for you.”

  I laugh another hollow laugh. “Screw you, Jason. You did the best for yourself.” I run my eyes up and down him. “God, you’re pathetic. A drunk, pathetic excuse for a man.”

  I know I shouldn’t keep pushing his buttons, but I can’t stop myself.

  “You and your bastard of a brother stole my freedom from me!” I bite. “You set me up for that robbery and then just walked away clean. And you came here for, what? To say you’re sorry? Well, fuck you. If you’re as sorry as you say you are, then you’ll go to the police station, and you’ll tell them the truth. Go to the police right now, and tell them that it was you and Damien. That you both set me up. That you robbed the store.”

  His eyes flare with danger, and his grip on my arm increases, making me whimper in pain.

  He leans in close to my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Daisy.” His voice is low but calm and steady. “My brother and I had nothing to do with what happened that night. All I know is what everyone else knows—that you did the robbery. Your access card was used to get in the store. You were the one who had some of the stolen jewelry found in your apartment.”

  Finding strength, I push him away from me, shoving him back. “Fuck you!” I seethe. “I fucking hate you, you bastard!”

  “You should hate me,” he says calmly. “And you should be afraid, too. Fear keeps people quiet, and you should be quiet, Daisy.”

  I wrap shaking arms around myself. “Is that a threat?” I somehow manage to keep my voice steady. God knows how because my insides are rattling.

  “No,” he says softly, giving a slow shake of his head, like the thought is inconceivable. “I love you, Daisy. I would never hurt you. This is me trying to keep you safe.”

  “Safe from who? Damien?”

  Jason holds my stare for a long moment before he looks away. “Take care, Daisy. And, remember, silence is golden.” He pushes his hands into his pockets, turns on his heel, and strides away.

  Thirty-Five

  I still went for my run after Jason left. It took me a good few minutes to calm my racing heart and trembling limbs before I was steady enough to move. But I needed the run. I needed to clear my head of everything that had happened.

  When my run was over and I was showered and ready for work, I sat across from Cece at the kitchen table, having breakfast. I didn’t tell her about Jason’s visit or that I’d slept with Kas or that he’d lied to me afterward.

  I was sitting there with it all on the tip of my tongue, but something stopped me from telling her.

  Maybe because I know how she worries about me, and I don’t want her to worry more than she already does.

  Jason’s visit has rattled me. Especially the warning he gave me.

  And, really, nothing has changed. He hasn’t outright admitted that it was him and Damien who framed me. So, it’s not like I’m going to go running my mouth off to the police because I have nothing concrete to give them.

  And I’m still bugging over Kas and his lying ways. And, now, more than ever, I want to know the truth.

  Maybe Jason’s visit has increased my need to know. Seeing the reason of why my life was upended and changed forever makes me want to be surer than ever that I’m not making a mistake by being with Kas.

  I won’t let anything risk me getting Jesse back.

  And that’s why I find myself in Kas’s office right now.

  He’s with Cooper in the paddocks. Something is wrong with one of the horses. A vet’s been called out.

  And I’m snooping.

  Not my finest moment but needs must.

  I have my cleaning stuff with me, and I am technically cleaning his office. I’m just having a nosy look around while I do so.

  Specifically, around the bookshelf.

  I’m dusting it while looking for anything out of the ordinary.

  I know I must look like something out of a bad detective movie, but this is my first rodeo.

  So far, I’m not getting much. There are just rows and rows of books and dust.

  Not exactly exciting.

  Honestly, I didn’t even know Kas read. I’ve never seen him pick up a book.

  Reaching up to my tiptoes, I run the duster along the higher shelves, my eyes trailing over them, looking for anything. Any indication that there’s a door behind here.

  But nothing. Just a wooden panel behind the books.

  I wonder if there’s a book that you pull out, and the bookcase magically opens.

  Okay, I’ve been watching too many movies. But I’m not really sure what I’m looking for here.

  Oh, I do remember seeing in one movie where they literally just pushed against the bookcase to open it, and behind it was a door leading to a secret room.

  But would Kas really have a secret room? It seems a little farfetched, even for me.

  He could have just sealed off the door for whatever reason and built a bookcase in front of it.

  And if he had just told me that, then I wouldn’t be in here, snooping, right now.

  He lied for a reason. And I want to know why.

  Thinking I hear a noise, I glance behind me at the half-open door. Pausing, I hold my breath.

  I left the door open, so it wouldn’t look suspicious if Kas came back, and I was in here with the door closed.

  I wait a few seconds, but there’s nothing. Nothing but silence.

  Looking back to the shelves, I sigh in frustration. There has to be something behind here. Something he’s hiding.

  I put the duster down on his desk. Turning back to the bookcase, I run my hand over the shelves. Stopping at the end one, I firmly press my hand against it, seeing if there’s any movement.

  But it doesn’t budge.

  I move to the next stack and do the same. And I get the same result.

  Frustration furrows my brow.

  Am I being crazy here?

  No, something is behind here. Something he doesn’t want me to see. I just know it in my gut.

  And there are only two stacks left to check.

  I move to the next bookcase, my heart picking up pace from the fear of being caught. Taking a deep breath, I press my palms flat to each side of the stack, and I push firmly.

  Holy shit! It moved.

  Only a little, but there was a definite give to the left.

  My heart rate sets off like a racehorse, and my pulse starts to thrum in my ears.

  I swallow nervously as I press my hands to the left side of the stack.

  Okay, here goes nothing.

  I give it a strong push.

  And it clicks. Then, it opens.

  Holy fucking fuck a duck! I was right!

  I quickly glance over my shoulder, checking if I’m still alone.

  Then, hands trembling, I curl my fingers around the edge of the now unlocked bookcase, and I ease it open.

  And there it is.

  Th
e door.

  The mothereffing door.

  I fricking knew it!

  Lying bastard Kas-hole.

  I grind my teeth together in anger and contemplation.

  My fingers are itching as I stare at the door.

  Should I open it?

  Yes.

  No.

  Yes.

  I’ve come this far. Might as well go the whole way.

  Flexing my fingers, my breathing hitched, I reach out and curl my hand around the doorknob.

  I turn it, and…it’s locked.

  Bugger.

  I give it another turn, as though that will magically open the door, but it doesn’t open because it’s clearly locked.

  I’m such a knobhead.

  Bending at the waist, I stare at the doorknob. It needs a key to unlock it. One of those Yale keys that fits in the middle of the handle.

  Closing my eyes in thought, I try to think if I’ve seen a Yale key anywhere, but I don’t recall anything.

  Sighing, I open my eyes. All I remember is Kas locking this door with a key and putting it in his pocket.

  He must keep it somewhere.

  But where?

  My eyes drift over to his desk.

  I wonder if…

  The back door opens and quickly slams shut, and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest.

  Shit!

  I quickly push the bookcase back in place, hearing the click, knowing I’ve locked it. Then, I dash over to Kas’s desk and pick up the duster. I start running over his desk and computer, like I’ve been cleaning it all along.

  This is so obvious. I’m so obvious. I might as well have a sign on my forehead saying, Snoop.

  I’m only dusting his computer, but I’ve broken out in a sweat, and I’m breathing like I’ve just run a marathon.

  I need to calm down.

  Ditching the duster, I grab the furniture polish and cloth. I spray some polish onto his desk and start rubbing at it as I force myself to calm down, taking slow deep breaths.

  “Hey.”

  I look up to see Kas standing in the doorway.

  Liar.

  “Hi.” I give him a bright smile, stopping what I’m doing.

  His eyes drift over the room, like he’s checking it.

  Looking for something, Kas-hole? Or worried I was?