Page 24 of His Custody

She nodded, her heart not in it. It didn’t feel like it was going to be fine. But she wouldn’t disappoint him. She’d be brave and get on with her life.

Walking up the big marble steps was as bad as she’d imagined it would be. Most people stared and the ones who didn’t looked away so purposefully she wanted to cause a scene so they’d have to look away harder. They’d break their fucking necks.

She closed her eyes before swinging open the heavy wooden door.

***

A blur of plaid and wild red hair tumbled into the car. He’d been worried about her all day, checking his phone obsessively, looking at any messages that came in no matter what he was doing. But she hadn’t called, texted or emailed. He knew it was from sheer strength of will on her part, not because it’d been a cake walk. Even though he’d imagined how she’d fared, he was still unprepared for how ragged she looked. As if her soul had been worn threadbare.

She sat rigid next to him, knees and ankles together, hugging her overstuffed tote bag to her chest, looking straight ahead. How long was she going to last holding herself together? But as soon as they pulled away from the curb, she started to sob.

He took her bag from her lap, placed it on the floor and pulled her under his arm, grateful Edwin had been free to drive today, and that he’d had the foresight to ask. It had been a while since Keyne had cried this hard, since her whole body shook with the strength of her emotions.

There was no way he was going to let on how much it hurt him to see her this way, because that was his problem and not hers. So he didn’t hush her but held her close, aching for her. He wished more than anything there was something he could do. He’d take this anguish away from her, suffer it himself if he could but the best he could offer was to bury his own pain deep so she wouldn’t have to bear that burden, too. When they pulled up to the house, she was still crying so they sat in the driveway until she stopped. Thank goodness for Edwin and his ability to render himself essentially invisible. A useful skill for a driver to have.

Keyne was sniffling now, so he offered her a handkerchief. His mother used to get them for him year after year. Prissy monogrammed things he’d never had much use for until Keyne came to stay with him. Since then, they’d been constant companions in his pockets.

Not saying anything, he waited for her, because that’s usually how he got her to talk. After she’d scrubbed her eyes and blown her nose, sounding like a wounded goose, she crumpled the linen in her hand. “It was awful.”

He waited, wondering if there was more, if she’d give him details now or later. She sighed and shuddered and he thought she might start crying again, but she didn’t.

“I missed him so much.”

Gavin. With all the worry he’d done about how people would behave toward her, he’d forgotten how alone she’d feel. She and Gavin had been in every class together since they started nursery school.

“They wouldn’t sit in his seat. No one would sit in his seat.”

She was getting worked up, and he felt like a moron. Gavin’s seat? Was this information he should have? He didn’t get it and meanwhile she was vibrating with frustration.Figure it out, Andersson. Don’t make this any harder on her.

“All day I felt like I was missing the left side of my body. He was supposed to be there and he wasn’t. And no one would sit there. Maybe they thought it was like some goddamn memorial or something, but all fucking day there’s been an empty desk to my left. He was always there, Jas, always.”

The thought that he ought to chastise her for her language crossed his mind, but who was he kidding? He’d regularly sworn in front of her before the yacht had sunk, and he hadn’t managed to clean up his act much since becoming her guardian. Eh, she was old enough to know when it was okay and when it wasn’t, and that’s all that mattered.

Her hands were in her lap and she was rubbing the star between her fingers, worrying the metal so hard he wondered if she’d eventually wear the inscription down. If she did he’d get her another one. And then another and another until she didn’t hurt so goddamn much.

“And now he’s not.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He couldn’t sit next to her all day, although it was tempting. Though to be honest, with how little work he’d managed to do today while he’d been thinking about her, he may as well. At least he’d know she was safe.

“Can I stay home tomorrow?”

“You can, but I doubt Wednesday’s going to be easier than Tuesday.”

“How about never?” Her light eyebrows twitched up in a gesture of not-terribly-optimistic hope. With good reason.

“You have to go to school. But if you can’t stand it, I’m sure we could get you transferred somewhere else. They wouldn’t leave an empty desk, but I’m sure there’d be a lot of questions. Up to you if you think that’d be easier.”

For the rest of her life, she was going to be the poor little rich girl who lost everything. It was different for him. He was a grown man. People offered him short condolences if that. She sniffed again, her small shoulders hitching. “Can I have a snack?”

“Of course. Ada must’ve been making you something special. Whole house smelled good when I left. Let’s go see what she cooked up for you. Think you can spare some of whatever it is for me?”

She sent him a narrow-eyed glare and it made the corner of his mouth curl up. There she was. If she felt up to putting on a brave face, he’d let her. Especially because he was pretty sure she was doing it for him, which was heartbreaking in its dogged and determined sweetness. He wanted to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but if she felt up to trying to do something for him, then he was there for that.

And if she fell apart again later, he’d be there for that too. But in the meantime, she opened the car door and bolted out, shouting over her shoulder. “We’ll see.”

Chapter Nine

September

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