Page 10 of His Custody

After doling out Keyne’s sleeping pill, he came back to the den where Sarah was waiting for him, scrolling away on her phone. As soon as he dropped onto the couch, she straddled him and started to kiss him. Her mouth was hungry, ravenous, but he had nothing for her.

“Sarah,” he managed to get out around her attacks, “Could we not tonight?”

It had been a long day. A long week. A long month. It had been a month and a half since they’d been gone. It was hard to believe. In some ways it felt like it had happened yesterday. He still woke up some mornings thinking he would meet up with his parents, his brother, and the O’Connells for brunch or maybe to go out on the boat. Then reality would set in and anguish would twist his heart, wringing it out.

They’d never come back. His mother would never scold him again for not having settled down yet, his father would never offer him unsolicited advice about his finances, his brother would never beg him to let him drive his Aston Martin. He wished he’d let him. At least once.

He’d give it all up, every penny he had, all the toys he’d accumulated. He’d stop drinking, stop using, wouldn’t touch a drop or a joint or a line ever again if he could get them back. But that’s not how things worked. They were gone and the remnants of their family were all under one roof. His roof, and he was doing his utmost to make it the best place possible for Keyne to be, but hell was that exhausting.

Jasper packed all of his feelings away, folded them and placed them with care at the bottom of a chest that he locked and set flame to, burying the ashes under everything that mattered now. His grief would have to wait. He couldn’t afford it right now. What mattered right now was Keyne getting everything she needed, and if that took everything he had, so be it. He didn’t have the capital to spend on Sarah.

She stopped kissing him, her hands ceased clawing at his shirt and she leaned back, her expression cold.

“You used to be a lot more fun, you know that?”

“Yeah, well, my family used to be alive and I wasn’t responsible for a grieving teenager. It was a lot easier to be fun then.”

Sarah reached into her shirt then, snaked a finger into a cup of a lacy bra that showed over the low neckline, and drew out a small tube. “I’ve got some fun in powder form right here.”

Jasper stared at the vial of coke she held between her fingers, a tiny tower of euphoria. Fuck was that tempting. He yearned for the pleasure it would bring, the brief experience of invincibility, the soaring high. He wanted to push her onto the coffee table, shake out the contents of the tiny bottle onto her chest, score some uneven lines with a knife from the bar and dig out a bill from his wallet, roll it tight, and then snort the bliss right off her tits.

Instead he made his face hard. “I told you not to bring that into the house anymore.”

It’s not that he didn’t want it—he did. Badly. So badly it was almost embarrassing. But what he wanted more was to not fuck up and have Keyne taken away. So no getting high for him. Not now, not until she was gone and then he could get as fucked-up as he wanted, as often as he wanted, and Christ would that be phenomenal. Not yet.

“God, Jasper. You’re so fucking boring. Are you going to start eating casseroles and coaching soccer? I guess it was only a matter of time before suburbia started rubbing off on you.”

“It has nothing to do with suburbia. I’ve always lived out here.” In his dark, solid house that was now covered with teenage girl detritus—how many hair elastics could a single person need? “It’s about the obligations—”

“The obligations you saddled yourself with, that you could have passed off on someone else. Someone a lot more capable than you. You’re going to be a shitty dad.”

Jasper could feel his nostrils flare as he blew a breath out through his nose. “I’m not trying to be Keyne’s father. She had a father and he’s dead. I’m just trying to keep her in one piece until she’s old enough and well enough to look after herself.”

“What if that never happens? She’s a fucking mess. She can’t get through the day without you.” Sarah narrowed her eyes and her head turned like a snake about to strike. “Is that what this is about? Are you getting off on this, Jasper? Being someone’s hero? It’s not going to last. She’s going to grow up and realize what kind of man you really are. You’re no one’s hero. You’re a spoiled playboy who likes his toys, his drugs, and playing at the dodgy end of the sandbox. You like living on the edge and respectability is going to bore you to tears. You’re going to resent that girl so hard and so fast she’s not going to know what hit her.”

Jasper ground his back teeth together. “She needs me.”

Sarah closed her hand around the tube and pounded the fist against her chest. “Ineed you.”

“No, you want me. Keyne needs me.”

An emotion he couldn’t quite read flashed in Sarah’s eyes. She’d always been jealous and he’d tried to soothe her, done his best to make her believe she was the one he wanted. She had been. Since they’d been together, he hadn’t slept with anyone else or even played with anyone at the club. Hadn’t wanted to. She’d been enough for him.

But for her to be jealous of Keyne? This wasn’t going to work. Keyne was a priority and Sarah was an option. A sexy as hell, intelligent, and sexually compatible option, but an option nonetheless.

“Look. I understand this has been frustrating for you and I’m sorry. There’s going to be a steep learning curve and a period of adjustment. I’d like to get through it with you. But if you’re giving me an ultimatum, I can promise you’re going to lose.”

She pushed off his lap and started to pace, muttering under her breath. For the first time since he met her, Jasper didn’t have the urge to conquer her, bring her to her knees. She was spoiled and self-centered, and she’d be better served by a top who liked brats. Or maybe just someone who wasn’t him and had patience to spare.

Before he could stop her, Sarah had uncorked the vial, dumped the powder into a small pyramid in her hand and blew, sending white dust all over the room. As it settled, his emotions rioted, panic and fury pulsing through him in equal measure.

“What the fuck, Sarah? Jesus Christ. You know the social worker can come pounding on the door at any time and if I don’t let him in, she’s as good as gone.”

He could picture it now, nebbish Dan McCarthy showing up with his goddamn clipboard on Jasper’s front steps coming to take away the only person Jasper had left. He’d had nightmares about that very scenario and every time, he’d woken up in a cold sweat. No matter what other sketchy-ass rule-breaking or law-bending he’d done, never had he woken up feeling as sick and agitated as he did on those nights. This culpability for another person’s well-being was excruciating.

“He will be knocking, Jasper. I’m going to call DCF on your ass right now. I’m going to tell them everything. All about the drinking. And the drugs. And the kink. Keyne is going to be gone so fast your head will spin.”

His head was already spinning, but he slammed on the brakes as fast and hard as he could. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d never wanted to do this but now he was glad he’d been paranoid enough to plan for the eventuality. As a kid, he’d been a piss poor Boy Scout, but he’d learned one thing: be prepared. And now it was time to press the red button.

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