Page 2 of His Custody

Her green eyes darted back and forth under pinched brows, taking in the room. She looked so young then, and lost.

“You’re in the hospital. You’re going to be okay.”

He couldn’t bring himself to volunteer anything else.Your parents are dead. Your boyfriend is dead. Your godparents are dead. The entire crew of a boat you’ve run around on since you were a toddler is dead. Your whole world is about to be turned upside down.She needed to rest and if he could give her a few more hours of peace without everything flooding back, he’d hold back the flood for as long as he could. He’d give her the peace he couldn’t have.

She blinked at him a few more times and he did his utmost to school his expression. Neutrality. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes went unfocused.

“I’m tired, Jas.”

“I know. You can go back to sleep.”

Her lips pursed and her eyebrows drew together in a pale approximation of the vicious scowl he usually got from her when he was being ridiculous. God, let her stay spaced out and oblivious for as long as possible. Keyne was a tough customer—smart, clever and didn’t put up with bullshit. He’d sometimes thought she was too mature, too tough for Gavin, but Gavin had worshiped her, and that had worked for them. But as tough as she was, this was going to be hard for her to take. It would be hard for anyone to take. She was going to be devastated, and if he was a coward for wanting to keep this from her for as long as possible, so be it.

Her eyelids, delicate and purple-tinged, fell over her mossy green eyes and soon she was asleep, telltale even breaths deepening. Just in time for his phone to buzz in his pocket.

He checked the screen before answering, and though there had been a lot of numbers coming up today he didn’t recognize, this one he did: it was Deja. The only person he knew who could flip a switch and get shit done under any circumstances, she was technically his COO but if there was something the woman couldn’t do, he hadn’t found it yet. He was thankful for Deja every day because she was a marvel, but the relief of seeing her number come up at this moment when everything else had gone to shit was palpable. “Yeah.”

“We’ve got a problem.”

Fuck.“How bad?”

“I can do some digging, but you’re not next of kin.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.“Get it taken care of, Deja.”

He didn’t bother to say good-bye, but hung up, secure in the knowledge Deja would do as she’d been asked. And if there were a way to get this sorted, she would find it.

Part of him wanted to rail at the O’Connells for putting him in this position, but no one plans for the apocalypse. His parents would have been listed in the O’Connells’ wills for getting custody of Keyne if anything happened to them. But he wasn’t. Why would he be? Their wills probably hadn’t changed much since Keyne was born, and he would’ve been fourteen at the time and heading off to prep school. He could barely figure out how to do his laundry in the coin-op machines in the dorms, never mind care for anyone else. Not exactly a fit guardian.

Bill and Marcy O’Connell were good people, the best. But Marcy didn’t have any family and the rest of Bill’s were money-grubbing parasites. Sean had blown through his substantial inheritance with help from his feckless wife, Deborah. They’d both been pretty damn angry when Bill had refused to pay their way out of debt. Probably because he knew they’d only burn through it again. And since then, there had been a long stream of failed get-rich-quick schemes, and he wasn’t confident that they’d limit themselves to aboveboard activities if they thought hanging out on the wrong side of the law could result in a life of luxury.

No fucking way were they getting their hands on Keyne or everything her parents had worked so hard to build. Not if Jasper had anything to say about it, and he sure as fuck would.

Chapter Two

July

They were fighting again.

She wasn’t supposed to be able to hear them fighting. Jasper had steered Sarah as far away from Keyne as he was willing to go, and was keeping his voice low.

It didn’t matter. She could still hear them.

They were fighting again. Over her. She’d only been at Jasper’s for a month.

She hugged her knees harder into her chest, dug her nails into her calves. She didn’t want them to fight.

“She can’t stay here, Jasper.”

Keyne glanced at Jasper’s broad back, his hands on his hips, looming over Sarah. Sarah was a tall, brassy blonde and gorgeous, but even in her heels, Jasper dwarfed her. Not so much because he was so much taller, though he was taller, but because he was broad like a tree trunk. Keyne could hardly see Sarah because Jasper had placed himself in between the two of them.

“Where would you have her stay?”

“I don’t—”

“She’ll be in foster care over my dead body. And there’s no fucking way the O’Connells are getting her. You have no idea what those people are like. So what would you have me do?”

Sarah huffed a sigh. “She’s—”

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