Page 20 of His Custody

“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.

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