Page 160 of Unsuitable

I part my lips. My mouth is dry, like I’ve been out in the desert for days.

I…I don’t even know where to start.

Kas is staring at me with those beautiful, impenetrable dark eyes of his, giving me nothing.

But he doesn’t need to give me anything because I’m pretty sure I’ve figured it all out by myself.

Damien Doyle was part of the gang that…

And Kas has been…

Jesus, I can’t even say the words.

I lick my lips, trying to give aid to speech. “I…” I wrap my arms over my stomach, my eyes flickering around the room.

He has pictures of me from before we even knew each other.

Or maybe Kas knew me a long time before I knew him.

Oh, fuck.

“I…you…” I stammer. “Wh-why do you have photos of me? An-and Damien Doyle?”

“I think you know why.”

“Oh God,” I whisper, trembling.

He sighs again. “I didn’t ever want you to find out, Daisy.”

No fucking kidding! I wish to God I hadn’t found out.

Me and my snooping fucking nose.

“Y-you…th-the pictures of those men.”

“Evan Foster, Levi Betts, and of course, you know Damien Doyle.”

“Ar-are they…” I lift a shaking, helpless hand to his scarred torso. His eyes squeeze shut. “Are they the men who did that to you and Haley?”

He breathes deeply through his nose. His eyes open. “Yes.”

“Jesus Christ,” I whisper. “An-and what do the crosses on Evan’s and Levi’s faces mean?”

“It means they’re dead, Daisy.”

Holy fuck.

I want to cry. And run. Far, far away.

I swallow past the bricks lodged in my throat. “Ho-how did they die?”

He adjusts his stance, lifting his hands to the doorframe above his head. His big body fills the doorway. His muscles are stretched out, showing the definition and strength of him.

I’m trapped in here, and if he wants to hurt me, he can.

The only things I have to my advantage are the selection of knives behind me and the gun, but I don’t know if it’s loaded.

And…I can’t believe I’m considering having to defend myself with a weapon against the man I’ve been sleeping with.