His Custody

by Tamsen Parker

  “Turn it over,” he urged when she looked at him, her mouth gaping open.

  Second star to the right, straight on till morning.

  “Jasper . . .” It came out a whisper because she was going to cry.

  He took the box from her, removing the bracelet from its cushy home and fastened it on her wrist, tugging on the charm when he did.

  “I’m sorry I can’t be everything you need, Keyne. I wake up every day feeling like I’m fucking this up beyond belief, like there must be a better way, and I . . .” He swallowed, and shook his head. “You deserve so much better and all you’ve got is me. I don’t have a whole lot to offer you. But what I can give you is a promise. I will always be here for you. I know it’s hard to remember when you wake up in the middle of the night, but I swear on everything I have it’s true. So maybe this will help remind you.”

  She stared down at the metal circling her wrist and her throat tightened. She didn’t know if it would work—if she were being honest, it probably wouldn’t—but god it was sweet of him to try. She fingered the star, trying to find the words, but thank you didn’t seem good enough.

  “It’s stupid, I’m stupid, I’ll—” Jasper reached for her wrist and she yanked it away.

  “No! Don’t take it back.”

  His rugged face lightened, like sun spilling over an imposing mountain that made it beautiful. Her friends were right. Jasper was kind of handsome.

  “You can’t take it back. It’s mine. I love it.” She wrapped her hand around the bracelet, pressing the links and the star into her flesh. If she pressed hard enough, would it leave an impression? She bet it would and for some reason, the idea settled her. “Thank you.”

  Jasper’s mouth moved in a way she didn’t understand, and from the puzzled expression on his face, maybe he didn’t either. He settled for nodding. “Are you ready to go to sleep?”

  Sleep. Right. The worst part of her day. Because the nightmares came and though she loved her bracelet, she had no illusions that it had the same power as Jasper’s body beside her. But maybe, maybe, it would help. Better was worth a shot.

  “Ready to try.”

  She went to wash up, and when she came back, Jasper tucked her in and stroked her hair. She didn’t know why she liked that so much, but she did. Maybe because it was affection with no expectation. If you’re my pet, I know you love me. You don’t have to prove it, it’s just true. It absolved her of any responsibility and it felt good to rest. So she closed her eyes and reached for her bracelet under the covers, rubbing the star between her fingers until she fell asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  August

  Her fingers twisted together in her lap, her light pink nails resting against the grey fabric of her dress. A cocktail party? Was this a good idea? Jasper said it was a good idea, but he didn’t seem to believe it. His jaw was tight, making the blunt angles of his face sharper, meaner. His fingers drummed the armrest on the door. What was he nervous about?

  He glanced over, caught her looking at him. “We don’t have to go, Keyne.”

  She rolled her lips between her teeth. Seeing all her parents’ friends didn’t sound like fun, but she’d have to do it sometime. And if she was going to break down in tears, in front of all the familiar faces wouldn’t be a bad place to do it. This would be good practice if she wanted to go to school next month. And she did. Sort of. Jasper wouldn’t let her stick to him like glue, so school to keep her mind busy might be the next best thing.

  “We should. And if it’s too much . . .”

  “Give the word and we’ll leave.”

  Her agreement was overshadowed by Edwin announcing they’d arrived. Edwin was Jasper’s driver, though he was Jasper’s only some of the time. Jasper could’ve afforded to keep Edwin all the time, but he liked to drive—he had three cars in his garage to prove it. Edwin drove them to her appointments sometimes, like when Jasper had a meeting on the phone he couldn’t miss. It didn’t surprise her he was driving now. Jasper always had Edwin drive when he thought he might be drinking, and apparently he was planning to have a few tonight. Which was probably good for him. Jasper deserved a break. Deserved, in fact, to get shit-faced, but he wouldn’t do that here, not with her.

  Jasper helped her out of the car and laid a hand at the small of her back to guide her inside the familiar building. “We’ve got to be careful, Keyne. No mention of you having slept in my bed at all, and you can’t be clingy, okay? I don’t think anyone’s dickish enough to report anything to DCF, but it’s not worth the risk.” That’s what he’d said when they were walking out of the house. She knew it was true, but she resented it nonetheless. Sometimes just being touched by Jasper soothed her nerves. Why couldn’t she take comfort in one of the few forms she could find it in these days?

  They walked up the path to the house in silence, and when they stopped in front of the door, her eyes skated over her reflection in the glass. She didn’t look good. Paler than usual, thinner, too. She was fading away. At least the dress Jasper had picked out for her looked nice and her hair was pretty. Thank goodness for Ada, otherwise she would’ve rolled out of bed and god knew what rumors that would start. At least she looked like she was trying.

  When the door opened, they were accosted by the tragedy whores. Some were well-meaning and some less so, but she had to keep her hands balled into fists by her sides to not reach for Jasper, to not beg him to take her home. This was a mistake. She shouldn’t have come, it was too soon.

  But soon their hostess, Bunny Gates, grabbed them both and led them away from the fray, shooting razor-sharp glances at anyone who dared follow.

  Once she’d gotten them to a corner of the spacious parlor, she dropped her grip and smoothed the fabric of Jasper’s coat and rubbed Keyne’s arm. “I’m so glad you could make it. I didn’t mean for the invitation to be in poor taste, but if you wanted to get out of the house . . .”

  Jasper nodded at the woman. If you didn’t know any better, you might call Bunny frail. She was shorter than Keyne, and so delicate she must have descended from birds. Even in her structured couture cocktail dress, she was so slight that if you tossed her off the roof of her enormous home, she might drift down like a feather instead of going splat on the pebbled driveway below.

  She was a sharp old lady and Keyne used to be afraid of her until she figured out Bunny focused her spikes on people who deserved it, and Keyne did her utmost to never be someone who deserved it.

  “Thank you. I don’t think we would have accepted from anyone but you.”

  Bunny smiled at Jasper’s compliment, her feathers fluffed. “Well, I won’t tell you to enjoy yourselves, but I hope we can provide a couple hours of diversion. You’ll both let me know if you need anything.”

  They murmured their thank-yous and Bunny steered them to the bar where she requested a scotch, neat for Jasper and a Shirley Temple with extra cherries for Keyne. Keyne felt herself flush. It was true it was her favorite, the sweetness of the grenadine and the slight mealiness of the maraschinos squeaking between her teeth, but she was seventeen. She ought to drink something more mature. But then Bunny said, “Make it two,” and she didn’t feel quite so silly.

  Also, she didn’t feel like being a grown-up tonight. Let them coddle and pet her, treat her like a child. It would be easier to handle.

  Drinks in hand, they braced themselves to mingle. She stuck close to Jasper, but not touching, no matter how badly she wanted to reach out and take his hand as people attempted to make small talk.

  He was so good at this, his tension only showing through a vein across his temple and the tightening of his fingers around his glass when people were being rude. He’d silence them with a sharp word and she’d let her mind wander because he’d deal with anything that came her way.

  After a second Shirley Temple, she excused herself to a well-appointed bathroom, locking herself in for longer than necessar
y. A breath. She needed a breath. She half expected a knock on the door, Gavin’s voice on the other side because she’d been gone too long. “Are you okay, Tiki?”

  Her chin trembled, she closed her eyes, and she wished with all her heart she’d be going home with Gavin at the end of the night. They’d laugh together in his bed about Geneva Swan’s ridiculous dress and speculate about the glances between Sylvia Moses and Rick Norton. Were they doing it? She totally thought they were doing it.

  But she wouldn’t be climbing into bed with Gavin. She reached for the star on her bracelet and worried it between her fingers. It helped. It helped to think Jasper might not come as quickly as Gavin, because he didn’t need her like Gavin had, but Jasper would come for her. He would find her if she needed him.

  ***

  Jasper’s eyes flitted over the collected company, the women preening like birds of paradise and the men strutting around like peacocks. He couldn’t wait to get out of this upper-class aviary. He’d do his duty rounds and then get Keyne home. She’d been doing well here, better than he’d expected, and he didn’t want to push her too hard. Most of the guests had been sensitive, but not all, and he’d like this to end on a positive note so she’d be willing to do it again sometime. As much as he shared the impulse, he wasn’t going to let them hole up in his house and never leave.

  That would be A) unhealthy, and B) fodder for the rumor mill. He was about to excuse himself from his present flock of company when Talbot Thurston leaned down. “You looking for your lucky charm?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your eyes have barely left Keyne O’Connell’s ass all evening. Not that I blame you. She’s a tight little piece. Was always jealous of your brother for getting to tap that. Bet that was a fun cherry to pop.”

  Heat rose in Jasper’s cheeks and he held the glass so tight in his hand it might shatter. He was about to put his fist through Talbot’s florid face, but Talbot couldn’t shut up. One of the many reasons Jasper’d never cared for him.

  “But you’ve got your sloppy seconds now. Bill must’ve owed you even more money than he owed me for you to end up with that trophy in your case. She any—”

  “What did you say?” The comments about Keyne were inflammatory, but he’d ask about the money before he punched the guy in the throat.

  “She any good?”

  The guy was a pig. A disgusting, vile pig. “No, you prick. How much did Bill owe you?”

  Talbot held up three fingers and Jasper relaxed. “For fuck’s sake, Talbot, three grand? That’s chump change. I’ll write you a fucking check.”

  Talbot was an arrogant, misogynistic ass, but Jasper had never known him to be stingy. Three grand could’ve been table stakes if the boys were feeling spendy. Ridiculous he would bring that shit up here, now, and pull Keyne into it. But Talbot scoffed. “I should’ve made myself more clear: three hundred grand.”

  Fuck. Why the hell would Bill O’Connell owe Talbot Thurston three hundred grand? He knew the O’Connells had some debts, but it hadn’t looked that dire. Deja had settled a bunch of their accounts with some money from his parents’ estate so the O’Connells’ creditors would keep their mouths shut and exactly what kind of financial trouble they had been in wouldn’t headline cocktail party chatter. This wasn’t pocket change, either. They were starting to talk real money.

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Why shouldn’t you? I know you’re not the president of my fan club or anything, but have you ever known me to be a liar?”

  No, he had to admit he hadn’t. A crass shitstain, sure, but Talbot wasn’t a con man. He didn’t have the temperament for it. And he couldn’t say that about everyone milling around Bunny’s home.

  “Plus, it’s not like I need the money.” Talbot shot him a self-satisfied grin and it took everything Jasper had not to knock his teeth down his throat. Yes, he’d heard Talbot’s latest venture had done very well when his company went public last month. But he’d been a little busy to congratulate him on it.

  “You’ll have it.”

  Jasper downed the rest of his scotch and made a move to the bar, cocking his head to indicate Talbot should join him. When they got there, Jasper didn’t stop, but kept walking down an empty hall and Talbot followed. When they were away from the crowds, Talbot volunteered, “Or you know, you could just give me a few nights with the girl and we’ll call it—”

  Jasper’s hand around Talbot’s throat slammed him up against the wall and cut off the rest of whatever filth he was going to spew.

  “You’ll get your money, Talbot, no problem. But if you ever say another word about Keyne O’Connell or even look at her sideways, you and I are going to have a big problem. Keep your filthy mind out of her pants and your wandering eyes off of her. She is not for sale. Not to you, not to anyone. Do you understand me?”

  The bulging eyes and the hands clawing at his ironclad grip should have been confirmation enough, but Jasper wanted to hear him say it. He loosened the chokehold and after Talbot dragged a few breaths, the man sputtered, “Possessive of your new toy, are you?”

  Slam went the back of Talbot’s head into the wall and Jasper spoke slowly and clearly while the other man struggled for air. “Did I not make myself clear? Keyne is not currency. She’s a person, a kid. If you say another word I will do everything and anything in my power to make the rest of your life a misery. You know I’m capable.”

  Jasper let up then because Talbot was looking blue. Lack of oxygen would do that to a person.

  “Do you know if Bill owed anyone else money?”

  Talbot was doubled over, coughing. Jasper gave him a minute before he nudged him with the toe of his shoe. “Do you?”

  “I don’t know. But I don’t think I’d be the first person he called on in a pinch, so my guess would be I wasn’t the first person he came to. Or the last.”

  Jasper settled his hands on his hips, mind whirring. Why the fuck would Bill O’Connell need to borrow money? And if he had, why didn’t he do it from Jasper’s parents? Or for that matter, Jasper?

  “Do you know what he needed it for?”

  Talbot narrowed his piggy little eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “Would you like me to demonstrate exactly how serious I am?”

  Though he was already cornered, Talbot tried to take another step back, and put his hands in the air. “That won’t be necessary. But I thought you knew. Sean O’Connell isn’t the only one who spent a lot of time at the tables or with bookies.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying Bill was up to his neck in gambling debts.”

  Jasper’s blood ran cold. How could Bill have done that? After watching Sean slip into ruin? How could he have done that to his family, and how could he have lived with the lies?

  He needed to get his hands on the full financials sooner rather than later so he could see if he could untangle this web of ruin and figure out if Bill owed money to anyone else. Also, he needed to get Keyne out of here in case there was some other creep who thought he was owed something and made a pass at her or worse.

  ***

  The morning after Bunny’s party, Jasper woke Keyne up by rubbing her arm as he sat on the side of her bed.

  “Get up, Tinker Bell. We’re going out.”

  She groaned into her pillow. Is this what it was like to be hungover? She hadn’t had anything to drink last night, but the anxiety had taken its toll. Jasper had found her in the bathroom where she’d holed up. He’d been upset about something, but she couldn’t tell what and he’d been trying hard to hide it so she left it alone. He tried so hard for her.

  With a tug of her hair, he said, “Come on, sleepyhead. Ada’s making you waffles.”

  She liked the pull on her scalp, maybe in a way she shouldn’t, but that wasn’t what got her head off the pillow. “Waffles?” Food had been starting to taste
like something again, maybe even . . . good? Her mouth watered at the idea of hot, buttery waffles.

  “With strawberries and whipped cream. Better hurry before I eat it all.”

  He avoided her attempt at a punch with a tousle of her hair.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  She scowled. She didn’t like surprises and Jasper knew it. “You need to at least tell me what to wear. You’re not making me go to church, are you?”

  His bark of a laugh said hell, no. “Workout clothes, unless you’ve got something you need to confess.”

  This time he couldn’t deflect her punch and she caught him right in the ribs. Ow. It was like punching a brick wall. Jasper snagged her wrist as she shook her hand out, and curled her fingers into her palm. “You’re not exactly Laila Ali. Don’t want you to break anything. Now get a move on.”

  Jasper’s hand encircled her other wrist, expecting the jab she aimed at his stomach. Her breath caught and excitement, pleasure, dropped from her throat down through her stomach and settled lower from the contact, the restraint.

  She pulled back on impulse and Jasper let her go. She wanted to tell him no, don’t, it felt good to be held, but she couldn’t get the words out. Besides, whenever she’d tried to explain to anyone, even Gavin, she was left feeling like she was alone in the world. So she’d stopped trying and kept it to herself.

  When she got downstairs, Ada was pouring a ladle full of batter into the waffle iron and Jasper was at the breakfast bar, putting a forkful of strawberries and cream in his mouth while he read the paper. A dot of cream had stuck to the corner of his mouth and she absentmindedly swiped it with her thumb, sucked it off while she slid onto the stool beside him. Ada made the best whipped cream. She must do something special to it.

  He passed her the crossword and a pencil without her having to ask, and she started poring over the clues while she waited for her waffle. She liked these silent Sunday morning breakfasts with Jasper. He was there, but not, and it was easier to let her mind focus on filling in the squares instead of how much her heart hurt.