Page 9 of His Custody

“Will you tell them? They’ll listen if you tell them.”

People took Jasper seriously. Not like Tallulah Tinker Bell. “You’re going to tell them. But I’ll punch anyone who laughs.”

They hadn’t laughed. She must have looked ridiculous, her scrawny arms crossed over her chest and her hair crazy from tossing around on the bed, but no one had laughed and she’d been Keyne ever since.

It had occurred to her later—much later, during one of her many, many readings ofPeter Pan—they’d called her Tinker Bellbecauseof her tantrums. After all, Keyne, like Tinker Bell, had been so small she only had room for one feeling at a time. She was bigger now and wished she could shrink, squeeze everything except one feeling out of her head because the riot of emotions crashing over her was overwhelming and she was as close to drowning as she had been out in the open ocean.

Suddenly Jasper was getting dragged away from her and the judge was yelling while she banged her gavel. “Mr. Andersson, take your seat or Iwillhold you in contempt of court.”

She looked up and Jasper mouthed, “Promise.” She nodded.

***

The judge had been gone for almost an hour. What the fuck was taking so long? What was there to think about? Keyne wanted to be with him and he wanted her with him, what else was there to know? But when the judge came back from chambers, he wasn’t convinced she saw it that way.

She took her seat behind the bench and when everyone else was seated, she put a pair of half-moon reading glasses on her nose and peered down at a piece of paper. Jasper’s heart felt like it was being squeezed by a fist, and he started running his contingency plans in his head. He didn’t make promises lightly, and Keyne trusted him to keep his word. Never had he been under so much pressure, never had the stakes been so high. Not when he was throwing around billion dollar business deals, not when he was bombing down the highway in his Aston Martin at a hundred miles per hour, not even when he was doing an intense scene at the club.

The responsibility was so heavy it might suffocate him, and he wished the judge would get on with it so he’d know how deep the shit pile he was standing in was. Judge Pollard looked up from her notes and shifted her gaze between the O’Connells and Jasper.

She’s mine.He willed her to hear him, and to take the well of loyalty he had for Keyne O’Connell into account when she spoke her next words. If he lost her, there’d be nothing to hold back the flood of grief, nothing to keep him from throwing it all away.

“Given the information gathered by the court, I am awarding custody of the minor Tallulah Keyne O’Connell to Mr. Jasper Andersson.”

There was more legal mumbo jumbo, but Deja would deal with all that. He couldn’t concentrate. His heart had started beating again and he felt faint with relief. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Keyne he’d do whatever it took. He’d already started making arrangements in case they had to flee the country. Forged documents, transferring funds to offshore accounts through a maze, things that would facilitate their escape and make their hideaway bearable. But now it wasn’t necessary. Keyne was his. Legally. And she was as happy as he’d seen her since... Well, it didn’t matter. She’d reached over and grabbed his hand, so he squeezed her hand and she squeezed him back, so hard it hurt. For a skinny little thing, she was so strong. He didn’t miss the judge’s eyes landing on his fingers tangled with Keyne’s.

“Mr. Andersson, please approach the bench.”

He stood, entrusting Keyne to the mother hen clucking of Deja, and approached, not missing the dark look Sean shot him as he made his way to the bench. He knew Sean liked to win—who didn’t?—but his level of discontent seemed out of proportion. He’d never known Sean to be attached to Keyne, and he couldn’t think Jasper would be that horrible of a guardian. Maybe he was upset about disappointing Deborah? But more likely this was about the money.

Sean’s feelings shouldn’t be at the forefront of his mind. Getting out of this courtroom without the judge changing her mind was the most important thing. “Your Honor?”

Judge Pollard made a point to hold his gaze as she turned off the microphone in between them. “I awarded you custody, Mr. Andersson, but don’t you think for a second it can’t be taken away again. She’s a pretty young thing—”

Jasper’s hackles rose and he practically spat at her. “She’s like my little sister.”

“Good. It had best stay that way. If there is a single whiff of impropriety between you and that child, social services will be breaking down your door and taking her away faster than you can call your fancy lawyers. I know you have a lot of money, but I have the full weight and power of the state of Connecticut behind me. If I hear a peep about you laying an inappropriate finger on that girl I will not hesitate to bring its wrath down upon your head. I would strongly suggest you pretend I’m watching a live video feed of every interaction you have with that young woman. Your relationship with Miss O’Connell needs to be beyond reproach. Are we clear?”

He wanted to be insulted, but his affront was dampened by the idea of what this must look like from the outside. “Yes, Your Honor.”

The judge’s features softened. “Good luck, Mr. Andersson. She’s going to need all the help she can get. Now go ahead and take her home. I’ll be watching you.”

The back of his neck crawled but he was also grateful. Judge Pollard hadn’t rubber-stamped this. She clearly cared about the kids who passed through her courtroom. And for some reason, he found himself not wanting to disappoint her. “Yes, Your Honor.”

He strode back to where Keyne was standing dazed, green eyes glazed and round. It was one of those times when she looked fragile, like a stiff breeze might blow her over and she’d shatter. This had been a long frigging day for everyone, but it was over now. Over.

Ninety-eight percent of his focus was on his new ward, but he didn’t miss the furious red of Sean’s face as Jasper tucked a Keyne who looked like she might pass out any second under his arm. “Come on, Keyne. We’re going home.”

Chapter Four

July

Keyne had been living with him for about six weeks when things went off the rails with Sarah.

They’d gone to the movies tonight at Sarah’s insistence. Jasper would’ve rather stayed home and he knew Keyne would’ve as well, but Saturday nights were supposed to be date night with Sarah, no matter what else was going on with either of them. After letting it slide the first few weekends after the accident, Sarah had demanded the practice be reinstated. Saturday nights were sacred. And though he didn’t particularly feel up for it, he gave in. He’d made a promise and he’d keep it.

They’d sat through some summer blockbuster with too many special effects and not enough plot. He didn’t think any of them had enjoyed it, although he’d grant it was nice to get out of the house for a reason other than work or one of the myriad appointments Keyne had during the week.

All he had to do was make sure he showed up with her on time. She was the one who was doing the real work. Sometimes she was snappish with him afterward, and others she was distraught, but she was always tired. The therapist had hinted maybe he should make an appointment to come in himself, but he didn’t have the time for that right now, nor could he afford to dig into his own feelings. Anytime they tried to sneak up on him, he stuffed them away with no small amount of effort. How could he take care of another person if he was busy wallowing in his own grief?

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