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.
Twenty-Five
Kas is here again, outside the station, waiting for me. I don’t even bother to fight it. I just walk over to his car and get inside.
“Hi,” I say quietly as I click my seat belt in.
“How was your weekend?” he asks, pulling the car away from the curb.
“I saw Jesse.” I chance a glance at him.
He meets my eyes, a softness in his. “How did it go?”
“It was good.” I smile at the memory of my day spent with Jesse. It was the best day I’d had in a long time. “We went to Brighton for the day. Hung out on the beach, ate ice cream, rode rides at the fair.”
“Sounds fun.”
“It really was.”
“I’m glad for you, Daisy.”
“Thanks.” I swallow. “How was your weekend?” I ask, looking away.
“It was okay.”
He offers nothing more. I could ask to know more about what he did, but I don’t.
My mind is feeling all jumbled up from being here with him.
I had a great weekend. I spent all of Saturday with Jesse. And I spent Sunday with Cece. We went shopping and caught a film at the cinema.
I didn’t allow myself to think about Kas…or Haley. But, now, sitting here with him, it’s all I can think about.
I’m filled with empathy and compassion for this man sitting beside me. All the anger and resentment I felt last week are now gone.
But I still feel confused and guilty over what I know. I feel like I’ve somehow betrayed him with my curiosity and snooping into his life.
We don’t talk for the rest of the short ride to the estate.
He parks outside the house.
“Thanks for the ride.” I take off my seat belt and let myself out of the car.
I walk toward the front door. Kas is behind me.
Inside the house, I take my shoes off and hang my coat in the closet.
When I turn around, Kas is standing in the middle of the hallway, his hands in his trouser pockets. He looks unsure.
And I hate this animosity between us.
“Do you want me to get you a coffee?” I ask, offering an olive branch.
He seems surprised at that. “Coffee would be great. Thanks.”
I give him a brief smile and then head for the kitchen. I smile again when I hear him following behind me. I thought for sure that he would go straight to his office.
I busy myself with making the coffee. Kas takes a seat on a stool at the kitchen island.
When the coffee is ready, I take his over to him.
“Thanks.” He offers a smile.
Still standing, I lean my hip against the island and take a sip of my coffee.
Kas wraps his hands around the mug and stares down into it. “I’ve thought a lot this weekend.”
“About?” I ask quietly.
“You.” He lifts his eyes to mine, and the look in them makes my heart beat faster.
“I can’t change the way I behaved, and I can’t explain why I walked out on you. It was the truth when I said I didn’t know how to do this kind of thing, how to treat someone I like. Because I do like you, Daisy. A hell of a lot. I think you’re smart and strong and challenging—”
“Challenging?” I lift a brow.
“I mean it in a good way.” His lips tip up. “I like that you don’t take my shit. You’re a fighter, and I fucking love that. And the way you love your brother and have sacrificed so much for him…it’s inspiring. You’re compassionate and loyal and beautiful. So very fucking beautiful.”
He thinks I’m beautiful. And he sees me in this crappy work uniform, stinking of cleaning products.
My cheeks flush at his compliment.
“And I know you said that you were done, but I’m asking you to reconsider. To give me another chance. I’ll beg if I have to.”
He grins, and I smile.
“Give me a chance, and I promise, I won’t fuck it up.”
My smile turns skeptical, and I lift my brow again.
“Okay.” He chuckles, holding up his hands in surrender. “I can’t promise I won’t fuck it up because this is me that we’re talking about. But I do promise that I will try my very best not to fuck it up.” He lowers his hands to the countertop. “I know I’m difficult and a total arsehole at times—”
My brow lifts higher, and he laughs.
“Okay, I’m an arsehole most of the time. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want you…because I do. I want you like you wouldn’t fucking believe.”
He wants me.
“Just give me another chance. Let me take you out on a date. I want to spend time with you, away from this place. So, what do you say? Go out with me, please.”
Now that I know what he had to deal with when he was younger—well, I don’t know for sure exactly what happened, but from what I’ve put together, it was bad—it makes him a hell of a lot easier to understand.
And I do want him.
So much more than I ever thought possible.
&
nbsp; But I still wait a moment before answering. He deserves to sweat a little.
“Okay,” I finally say.
A smile breaks out across his face. “Okay?”
I can’t help but smile in return, but I fight to keep it modest. “Okay. You’ve got your chance. But this is your last chance, Kas, so try your hardest not to screw it up.” I smile.
His smile turns into a cheeky grin. It melts me.
“I’ll try really, really hard.” His voice accentuates the word hard, and my mind instantly goes in the gutter.
I feel my face heat, so I bring the coffee cup up to my lips and take a sip, trying to cover it up.
Kas puts his cup down and stands. He walks around the island to me. He takes the cup from my hand and puts it down.
Then, he takes my face in his hands, and my heart bumps clumsily in my chest.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks softly. His thumb brushes over the corner of my lips.
“I’m working.” I give him a knowing smile.
His brow lifts. “And what about after work?”
I wait a beat and then say, “I’m free.”
He grins. “Good.” Then, he leans in and kisses me in the spot where his thumb just touched.
My whole body responds instantly. My legs turn to jelly from that one small touch of his lips against mine. I have to grip ahold of his waist to keep upright.
He moves back, smiling, like he’s fully aware of what he does to me.
“I’ll take you out straight after work. Bring some gym clothes and comfortable shoes with you.”
“You’re taking me to a gym on our first date?” I squint.
I mean, I like to run and keep fit, but sweating in a gym, in front of Kas, is not my idea of a fun first date.
“No.” He laughs softly. “I said, bring gym clothes, not that I was taking you to the gym.”
“Okay. So, where are you taking me then?”
He leans in and brushes his lips over mine, making me shiver. “You’ll find out tomorrow,” he whispers.
Then, he releases me and walks around the island. Picking his coffee up, he walks out of the kitchen.
I’m going on a date with Kas.
Oh my God…I’m going on a date with Kas!
Twenty-Six
Superhumans.
This is what the sign reads on the building where Kas is pulling into the car park.