Page 69 of Unsuitable
His laugh makes my insides light up. I equally love and hate how easily his laugh so quickly affects me.
“Is Danger your horse?” I ask him, trying to distract myself from my inner turmoil.
Kas slows Danger down until we’re side by side.
“He is. I got him three years ago.”
“He’s beautiful.”
Kas nods. “He was a rescue horse. He’d been badly treated by his previous owner. It took a long time for him to trust me.”
“Understandably. God, people can be complete wankers. Honestly, I just don’t get people like that. I mean, who the hell could hurt a beautiful creature like him?”
“There are people who get a kick from hurting others, Daisy.”
“Yeah, well, they’re sick bastards, and there’s clearly something missing inside them—like emotions.”
“Emotions can be what drives people to hurt and maim…even kill.”
“Maybe…but I don’t understand those kinds of people, and I’m glad I don’t.”
“Wouldn’t you like to hurt your ex-boyfriend for what he did to you?”
“That’s different. That’d be revenge. It wasn’t revenge, what Danger’s owner did to him.”
“No, you’re right; it wasn’t. But wouldn’t you like to get revenge on your ex-boyfriend?”
Exhaling, I shake my head. “No. Don’t get me wrong; when it all first happened, I spent many hours thinking up all the different ways I would cause him pain. But I quickly got past that when I realized it wouldn’t change anything. Hurting Jason wouldn’t alter what happened. Yeah, I’d probably feel better for a minute or two. But then that minute would be over, and I’d still be here, in the same situation. Revenge isn’t for me. All I care about is the future, getting back what I lost.”
“Jesse.”
“Yeah. He’s all that matters now. And I won’t do anything to jeopardize getting him back.”
“You’re a better person than most.”
“I don’t think I am. I’m just a person dealing with the hand that life dealt me. It’s all any of us can do.”
Kas is silent for a long time. Instead of heading into the forest, he veers us along the back of the paddocks and around, heading in the direction of the stables.
“Was Butterscotch a rescue horse?” I run my fingers through her mane.
“No. My mother got her as a foal when we first moved here. She trained her.”
“So, she’s your mother’s horse?”
“Yes.”
“And she wouldn’t mind me riding her?”
“No. She’d be happy that Butterscotch was getting exercise.”
“When do your parents get back from Greece?” I throw out there.
He gives me a surprised look, and I know it’s because he knows he never told me where they were.
“Cooper mentioned they were in Greece,” I tell him.
He looks away from me. “They’ll be there for another couple of months.”
