And that sets me off crying even more.
I turn my face to the window and wipe away the tears.
I feel so conflicted with my happiness over Jesse and my hurt over Kas.
I never knew I could feel so happy yet so sad at the same time.
The train pulls into my station. I get off the train and start the walk home. I know Cece said she was getting wine for our girlie night, but I stop off at the supermarket and get a bottle of champagne to celebrate my news. It’s only the cheap stuff, but it’s still champagne, and we are going to celebrate big time. I cannot bloody wait to see her face when I tell her that I’m getting Jesse for the weekends.
I forgo the five-pence carrier bag, and with a champagne bottle in hand, I head home.
I let myself in my apartment building and jog up the steps. I put my key in the front door, letting myself in. The place is quiet.
“Ce, I’m home,” I call out, smiling. I kick my shoes off. Dropping my bag in the hallway, I head to the living room. “I’ve got amazing news—” My words cut off at the scene set out before me.
Oh God. No.
Thirty-Nine
The bottle of champagne falls from my hand, hitting the floor with a thud.
“Ce.” My voice trembles.
She’s sitting on the sofa. Her wrists are bound in front of her, and her ankles are tied, too. Over her mouth is a piece of duct tape. Her eyes are wide with fear, her cheeks stained with old and new tears.
And, standing behind her, with a gun casually resting on top of the sofa beside her, is Damien Doyle.
“Hi, Daisy.”
The bastard smiles. He fucking smiles.
Fear and rage unfurl in the pit of my stomach.
“Damien.” I try to keep my voice steady, but it trembles, and he hears it.
I know because his grin widens.
“Been a while,” he says.
“Not long enough,” I grit out.
He laughs. “See? And here I was, thinking you’d missed me.”
Like a hole in the head, motherfucker.
“About as much as I’d miss genital herpes.”
He laughs again. Louder. “This is why I’ve always liked you, Daisy. Never afraid to say what’s on your mind.” He rubs the side of his face with his gun. My eyes track the movement. “And I’m sorry to drop in out of the blue like this, but I’ve been hearing things…”
My stomach hollows. “Such as?”
“These wild, crazy ideas that you have about me being the reason you went to prison.” He’s still smiling, but his gray eyes have hardened like granite.
Jason.
“And where have you been hearing those things?”
The smile widens. “Come on, Daisy. You know Jason never could keep his mouth shut. Some beers in him, and it was like fucking confession time.” He laughs a low, cruel sound. “I mean, Jason coming to see you, I should’ve seen that coming the moment I heard you were out. He always did have a weak spot when it came to you. Had to smack him around a bit for that. I mean, I can’t exactly let him off for fucking up. Fucking idiot, that he is. But then he did kinda do me a favor by coming to see me, as I got to hear all about what you’ve been saying.”
I feel a sharp sting of betrayal. But then it’s not like I could have expected more from Jason. He’s a bastard and a coward, just like his brother.
“I haven’t said a word to anyone else,” I rush out. “And, even if I did, who would believe me anyway?”
“True.” He nods, running a tattooed hand over his shaved head. “But, hearing that stuff, it makes me feel uncomfortable. Like I’ve left a loose thread. And I don’t like feeling uncomfortable, Daisy.”
Fuck.
I swallow fearfully, trying to hold myself together.
I see Damien’s eyes go to the bottle of champagne on the floor by my feet.
He nods at it. “Celebrating something?”
Fists clenched by my sides, I shake my head. “No.”
“Drink champagne every day, do you?”
My eyes meet with his. “Yeah. I live a champagne lifestyle nowadays, didn’t you know? I mean, with all that money I got from the jewelry heist—oh, wait. No, that was you.” I’m pushing it. I know I shouldn’t, but my anger is getting the better of me.
He laughs. The sound scrapes through me like rough nails over soft skin.
“Hmm, I think I’ll have that champagne for myself when I’m done here. Do a little celebrating myself.”
“Done here.”
Fuck.
“And…what are you doing here?”
“Cleaning up a mess.”
I just had to ask, didn’t I?
Fear twists my gut into knots. It takes everything in me not to cry. I bite the inside of my mouth—hard.
I have to get us out of here. I can’t just let him kill us.
I need a plan.
What would Kas do?
Kill him. Without a second thought.
God, Kas, where are you? I need you.
But he’s not coming. There’s only me.
I need to keep Damien talking until I can figure out how to get us out of here.
My eyes move to Cece. Tears are swimming in her eyes. She looks so afraid. I silently try to convey to her that everything’s going to be okay.
Then, I force myself to look at Damien, and I bolster myself with false bravado. “I’m really good at cleaning up messes. Did you know that?” I tell him. “Maybe I can help you with your mess.”
He chuckles. “Honey, you are my mess.” He lifts his gun and scratches his temple with the barrel of it.