He turns and looks up at me. “You staying up there all day?” There’s a definite smile on his mouth.
I bite my lip. “I don’t know how to get down.”
Still smiling, he walks over to me. “Take your feet out of the stirrups.”
My right foot slides out fine, but my left foot is a little stuck. I give it a wiggle, but it doesn’t come free.
“Here.” Kas takes ahold of my leg and pulls the stirrup from my foot.
There’s a layer of rubber and cloth between his hand and my leg, but I still feel his touch, like it’s on my bare skin.
I start to flush hot.
“Hold on to the saddle, and slide your right leg over.”
His hand leaves my foot. I look at him, unsure.
“I’ll catch you,” he tells me softly.
Hands gripping the top of the saddle, I slightly lean forward and bring my right leg back over Butterscotch, taking care not to kick her in the rear.
I feel Kas’s hands come around my waist, guiding my feet down to the ground.
“Thank you,” I whisper. A whisper is all I can manage at the feel of his hands on me.
He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t move his hands away either.
I feel him move closer. His chest brushes my back.
My heart takes off in a race against my pulse.
I can feel his soft breath blowing on my neck.
Involuntarily, I lean back into his touch, pressing my back to his chest. His grip tightens on my waist. And I shiver.
I want to kiss him.
I might not like him so much, but God, my body does right now, and my body is seemingly in charge.
I know that, if I turn around right now, I will kiss him.
Or he’ll kiss me.
I won’t be able to take back what happens.
But I’m not sure that I really care at this moment in time.
His hands on me, the feel of him against my back, just feels too good.
He feels like nothing I’ve ever had before and everything I didn’t even know I wanted.
“Daisy,” he softly says my name, sounding like a plea on his lips.
It’s a plea I can’t ignore.
I turn slowly. His hands stay on me—one moving over my back, the other grazing over my stomach, both coming to rest on my waist.
My whole body is awake.
Like I’ve been in a deep sleep, and he’s just touched me to life.
My eyes are on his chest. I’m afraid to lift my eyes to his. I know that, if I do, then this will all be over.
I can feel the heat of his stare on me.
He says my name again.
Inwardly, I’m panting and needy.
Outside, I’m…panting and needy.
Could I be more obvious?
His hand moves from my waist, leaving me cold. Then, his fingers slide under my chin. He unclips the helmet, removing it, and drops it to the floor beside us. Not once do his eyes leave mine.
His fingers brush back the loose strands of my hair. Finally, I lift my eyes to his.
And his are blazing. On fire. For me.
My whole body trembles from the inside out.
He infinitesimally moves in.
He’s going to kiss me. Holy shit, he’s going to kiss me.
And I’m going to let him.
I close my eyes in anticipation.
Then…
Ariana Grande’s “Into You” blares loudly from my phone. It’s set as my ringtone.
My phone is ringing.
My eyes snap open to meet Kas’s, which are wide with surprise. I watch in those brief seconds as a multitude of emotions flash through his eyes. Shock, horror, regret…but the one that hits me the hardest is disgust. And the way his hands drop from me, like I just infected him with a deadly disease…it makes me feel sick.
Why is he so repulsed by the thought of touching me? Kissing me?
Because I’m the staff? Or is it because I’m just a maid? Because I’m poor? Because I’ve been in prison?
He thinks I’m not good enough for him…
Pain lances across my chest, and in this moment, I’ve never felt more worthless.
He steps back from me. One step. Two.
His hands go to his head, dragging through his hair. “Fuck,” he growls. Then, his eyes are back on me. Cold and hard. “For fuck’s sake, Daisy!” he snaps. “Answer your goddamn phone!”
I jump at the harshness in his voice, and I’m surprised that I actually forgot my phone was still even ringing.
I grapple to unzip the pocket on the back of the jodhpurs where I stashed my phone. As I pull it out, it stops ringing. I stare down at the screen, seeing the missed call. I don’t recognize the number, but I do know it’s a London area code.
I keep my eyes glued to my phone. I daren’t look up at Kas.
I’m afraid of what I’ll see if I do.
More disgust. Maybe some repulsion.
The memory makes my eyes sting.
My phone rings again in my hand, startling me. It’s the same number.
I hesitate and then answer it. “Hello?”
“Daisy?”
“Jesse?” His name rushes out of me on a breath.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Is everything…are you okay?” My heart is hammering in my chest.
“I’m…” He hesitates. There’s something in his voice. He sounds worried. “I’m in a bit of trouble.”
And my heart drops to the floor. All thoughts and hurt over Kas are erased.
“I need your help, Mayday. Can you come get me?”
He needs me. He called me Mayday.
“Tell me where you are. I’m coming now.”
Eighteen
“I have to go,” I tell Kas as I walk past him without looking at him.
He says my name. I ignore him and keep walking.
“Daisy.” His voice is as firm as the hand that curls around my upper arm, pulling me to a stop.
“What?” I snap, spinning back to face him.
“What the hell is going on?” His brows are drawn together. He looks angry.
That makes two of us.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I bite. Then, I immediately regret it. “Look…whatever. I have to go. Fire me if you need to.”
Something flashes in his eyes, but I don’t care enough in this moment to try to figure out what it was.
I yank my arm free from his hand, and then I’m on the move again.
I hear a growl from behind me.
“For fuck’s sake, just hold up!” he yells right before he grabs my arm again, pulling me around to face him.
“I don’t have time for this!” I yell back.
I see the surprise in his eyes, and it gives me sweet satisfaction.
Yeah, dickhead, I can shout, too.
“I have to go.” I lower my voice. “My brother needs me, and I have to go.”
“Jesse? Is he okay?”
“I don’t know! That’s why I need to get to him. So, let me go!”
I pull at my arm, and he lets go.
But his next words stop me.
“I’ll take you to him.”
He’ll drive me to Jesse, but I’m not good enough to kiss?
Whatever.
I need to get to Jesse, and accepting a lift from Kas will get me there quicker than me calling a cab, which I wouldn’t be able to afford.
“That would be a big help. Thank you,” I say the words without meeting his eyes.
He nods. “Let me just grab my car keys.”
I follow Kas through the house, getting my bag from the coat closet while he gets his car keys from his office.
“Ready?” he asks, stepping back into the hall.
I nod and then follow him out to his car.
We’re seated inside when he asks me where we’re going.
Sighing quietly, I rest my elbow on the door and put my head in my hand. I stare out the window as Jesse’
s words echo in my mind after I asked him the same question.
“I’m at the mini-mart on The Broadway.”
I didn’t even question why he was at a supermarket and in need of my help.
I have a pretty good idea why he is there and needs my help, but I really, really don’t want it to be true.
But, either way, it doesn’t matter. If Jesse needs me, I’m there.
“There’s a mini-mart on The Broadway in Sutton. That’s where Jesse is.”
I watch as Kas inputs the address into his GPS. When it’s set, he puts the car in drive.
The silence is deafening, and my mind is working overtime.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I say quietly.
“Do you?” He doesn’t look at me.
“You think that I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
“That wasn’t what I was thinking.”
But he doesn’t disagree that I am trouble.
He’s right. I might try to keep my life clean and problem-free, but no matter how hard I try, problems always find me.
A part of me wants to ask what exactly he was thinking, but I’m too chickenshit to do so. Instead, I sit quietly and just stare out the window.
Kas pulls up outside the mini-mart twenty minutes later. It feels like it was the longest twenty minutes of my life. We didn’t speak the whole way here. And I’ve been worrying about Jesse and what to expect when I get inside that supermarket.
“Thanks for the lift.” I unclip my seat belt. “I really appreciate it.”
“You seem to be saying that a lot lately.”
I slide a glance at him. His expression is tight, but his lips have a soft curl to them.
“You’re right. I have been. I’m sorry,” I say.
“You say that a lot, too.”
“You mean, sorry?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe it’s because I am sorry. I don’t mean to be a bother to you.”
He exhales a tired sound. “You’re not a bother.” He turns his face to me, his eyes fixing on mine. When he speaks again, it sounds like his voice is lined with gravel, “Honestly, it’s surprising to me, just what I am willing to do for you.”
That takes me aback. What does he mean by that?
Unsure and nervous, I swallow roughly. “Well, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” I tear my eyes from his and reach down to retrieve my bag from the footwell. My heart is hammering in my chest. “Once I’m done here and I’ve gotten Jesse back home, I’ll come straight back to work, and I’ll stay late to make up the time.”
“You don’t need to.”
I don’t?
That brings my eyes back to his. “I don’t? But that’s a whole afternoon’s work.” And I need the money. I don’t say that, of course.
Kas must read the concern in my eyes because his own soften. “I’ll still pay you for the full day. Just go see to your brother, Daisy.”
With warmth in my heart, I curl my fingers around the door handle and open it. “Thank you so much.” I blush, realizing that I’m thanking him again. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he says.
I get out of the car and shut the door.
I watch as Kas drives away.
His words echo through my mind. “Honestly, it’s surprising to me, just what I am willing to do for you.”
My stomach flips and tightens. What on earth did he mean by that?
But, right now, I don’t have the time to think about what he meant. I need to get to Jesse.
Taking a deep breath, I ready myself, and then I walk into the mini-mart.
I glance around, expecting to see Jesse. Of course, I don’t.
If he did what I think he did, then he’ll be in the back with the store manager.
Please don’t have shoplifted, Jesse.
I’ve been in here to buy groceries a few times. The tills are over to my left. There are people being served. I really don’t want to go over there and ask for Jesse. I look for a security guard, but there’s no one.
Then, I see a young guy filling up the shelves down the biscuit aisle. I walk over to him.
“Excuse me. I got a call from my brother, Jesse. He said he was here…” I let my words trail off, not really sure what else to say.
Something unpleasant flickers in his gaze, and then he says, “Come with me.”
He puts the pack of biscuits that was in his hand back in the box and starts to walk away toward the back of the store. I follow him.
He stops by a door, swipes it with a fob, and opens it. He holds it open for me to pass through first.
“They’re just in the manager’s office,” he says, letting the door shut behind us.
Manager’s office? My stomach turns.
I follow him down the short corridor. He stops outside a door and knocks before opening it.
“The sister’s here,” he says to whomever’s in the room. Then, he stands aside, letting me through the door.
A guy—I’d say in his late thirties—is sitting behind a desk. I’m guessing he’s the store manager. A bigger guy in a security uniform is standing by the wall, and near him, Jesse is sitting in a chair.
His eyes meet mine. I see a glimmer of relief mixed with fear in them.
“Miss Smith?” the manager says, rising to his feet.
I step further into the room, closing the door behind me. “Daisy,” I tell him.
“I’m Jeff, the store manager. Please take a seat.” He gestures at the chair in front of his desk.
“Can you tell me what’s going on here, Jeff?” I try to keep my tone even. I sit and hold my bag in my lap.
“You’re Jesse’s guardian?” Jeff asks me.
I glance at Jesse. His eyes are pleading.
“That’s correct.” I swallow back my lie, looking back to Jeff.
“Okay, well, I’m sorry to tell you, but your brother was caught shoplifting by Brett.” He tips his head in the direction of the security guard who is standing by Jesse.
But I can’t look at Brett, the security guard. All I can do is stare at Jesse, who’s looking at everything but me. With a lump in my throat and a sick feeling in my stomach, I know this is my fault.
“I didn’t call the police because I thought we could deal with this in-house.”
The relief I feel at that is immense.
I pull my eyes from Jesse and look back to Jeff. “Thank you so much,” I say in earnest.
“Well, after Jesse said his parents had passed away in such tragic circumstances and that he was under your guardianship…I didn’t want to give the lad, or you, more grief to deal with. And I think he gets that he made a stupid mistake.”
“His parents had passed away in such tragic circumstances.”
One parent, and it wasn’t exactly a tragic circumstance. When did he get so good at lying?
My eyes slide to Jesse. It surprises me that he’s actually looking at me. But worry tightens my gut when I see the hint of defiance in his eyes. Almost like he’s daring me to call him out for lying.
Swallowing, I look back to Jeff. “What did he steal?”
“A six-pack of Kestrel Beer.”
Alcohol.
He’s stealing and drinking.
Jesus Christ.
“I am so sorry.” I lay my hands out in a pleading manner. “He’s never done anything like this before. He’s just…had a rough time of it as of late. Not that I’m making excuses for him because I’m not.” I glance at Jesse again. Keeping my eyes on Jesse, I speak to Jeff, “You said you wanted to deal with this in-house.” I look at Jeff. “What are you proposing?”
In my peripheral, I see Jesse sit up a little straighter.
“Well, the outside of the shop could do with a good clean. We lost our window cleaner a while back, and I haven’t gotten around to getting a new one. So, maybe Jesse could come tomorrow after school and clean the windows, and we’ll call it quits. How does that sound?”
“Per
fect,” 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.