Page 79 of His Custody

So standing there on the side of the road as the expensive cars whizzed past, he made an emergency appointment with his therapist, and he looked up the closest and soonest AA meeting. When he was through, he felt calmer, clearer. Plans always stopped the boat of his mind from rocking so damn hard. He’d get his shit together with some much needed help, and then he’d wait.

Chapter Twenty-eight

October

He’d been trying to sort this business plan out all day. It was one of the do-gooder firms he’d been looking into acquiring since Keyne ripped him a new one about his investments in the clothing manufacturing sector. He’d promised her and he wanted to be worthy of her. If she ever came back.

Jasper swore at the screen and slammed his laptop shut. Maybe he should go to the gym. Or maybe out for a run. He was going to be in awfully good shape for her when she came back. If he didn’t run and/or starve himself to death first. If she came back. The thought of that gel-headed fuckwad putting his slimy paws all over her...

Yeah he needed to get out. Desperately.

He threw his clothes on the bed and bent down to tie on his running shoe. His phone buzzed and he nearly left it until he got back—business could wait—but the pathetic hope it was Keyne calling to apologize or even to yell at him more made him dig it out of his pocket. It wasn’t Keyne, but it was Alice.

Hesitating, he stared at the blinking screen. Alice didn’t usually call him. He saw her at the gym almost every day now, so it must be something that couldn’t wait. Which meant trouble. Maybe at the gym, maybe at the club, but wherever she needed him, he’d be there. She’d done so much for Keyne, and, grudgingly, he had to admit for him as well. He could at least answer the damn phone.

“Alice, darling, what is it?”

An hour later, Alice and Leisl were on his doorstep with a very sorry-looking Keyne between them. The apologetic, abject kind of sorry, because otherwise she looked... mouthwatering. Over the knee black boots with a strip of pale thigh between the edge of the leather and black sequined tap pants. Over that was a military drab jacket embroidered with bright flowers he recognized as Leisl’s, but he could only imagine what was under it. Plus her hair was blown out, teased up and she’d refreshed the pink streak.

If he weren’t so concerned, he’d want to fling her over his shoulder and drag her back to his bedroom. But Alice and Leisl hadn’t escorted Keyne home after a few too many at a bar. No, Alice had called him from a kink club two towns over from New Haven where she’d been summoned to get Keyne, who’d tried to weasel her way into the club by dropping Alice and Leisl’s names. They hadn’t let her in, not being convinced by her fake ID or her story, but they had called Alice. And now the lot of them were standing out in the chilly fall air.

“Come on in, ladies.”

Alice shook her head as she nudged Keyne forward. “We’re actually going to head out.”

Emotions rioted in his head. He’d counted on having a buffer of some sort because he wasn’t sure what the fuck he should do with Keyne. Tangle was not a nice club and he didn’t know enough of their membership to feel good about her having gone there. At least they’d had the sense to call Alice instead of letting her in. But what if they hadn’t? What if she’d walked in there looking like she did?

He trusted her, knew she could take care of herself, and she should wear whatever the fuck she wanted, but he also knew how overwhelmed a person could get. Club culture took some getting used to, and if you were doing your best to fit in... it could feel like there was pressure. Pressure to talk to people, pressure to play. Or play harder. And they wouldn’t know her the way he did. Her triggers or her hot buttons, her unspoken signals, or how when she said “keep me,” she needed to be loved right away and without reservation. No one else would know that.

“Thanks, Alice. Leisl.” They offered small waves as they headed back to Alice’s car, and he slung an arm around Keyne shoulder to lead her into the house. Once inside, she ducked out of his hold and stood there with her hands knotted in front of her, fingers white with wringing.

She looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth pinched with guilt. “Are you mad at me?”

Was he? No, anger wasn’t what was souring his stomach, making him wish he could puke and be rid of the sick, churning sensation. “I’m not mad, Keyne. Just... worried. What were you thinking?”

Her jaw flexed and she scowled. “I was thinking that I was following your instructions. I broke up with Tyler because it wasn’t working.”

The caveman in the back of his brain was doing a victory dance, which was downright absurd, but he managed to keep a straight face. He definitely couldn’t say he was sorry about that, although he ought to be.

“I—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry, because you’re not.”

“No, I can’t honestly say that I am. But I am sorry it didn’t work out. I truly, with everything I am, with everything I have, want you to be happy. And if Tyler wasn’t going to do that, then it was probably good for you to end things.”

“But that’s the thing, Jasper. I know what would make me happy. It’s standing right in front of me. And I know you have all these fancy rationales as to why I shouldn’t have you, but...”

Her chin wrinkled and he realized she was shaking. “Sweetheart, are you cold?”

She nodded, hugging herself. “This isn’t exactly the warmest outfit. Or the most comfortable shoes.”

No, he couldn’t imagine they were, not with a heel like that. “Why don’t we go get you changed, then?”

“‘Kay.”

***

Though she wanted desperately for him to undress and dress her himself, he didn’t. Just shooed her into the bathroom to take a shower. He did however lay out some clothes for her in the closet. Leggings, fuzzy socks, a tank top and hoodie. She pulled them on, feeling held by him, relishing the feel of the fabric on her skin if this was the only thing he’d give her.

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