Page 107 of Unsuitable

Even if he weren’t there, he knew Haley, and she was murdered.

Kas’s harsh, abrasive, angry ways are starting to make sense in my mind now. Because, if he witnessed what happened…and was hurt…

I close my eyes against the horrific thoughts.

I should talk to him about this. But what the hell would I say? I mean, how in the hell do you bring something like that up?

And, also, I shouldn’t know about Haley. That picture was among his private things, and I snooped.

Snooping aside, how in the world would I explain Googling her because I was jealous and curious?

I’d sound like a bloody stalker.

I should just pretend like I don’t know.

But how the hell am I supposed to look him in the eye and pretend like I don’t know that something terrible happened to someone he cared about?

And, if he were the other person there…then the terrible things happened to him, too.

I can’t bear to think of him hurt and in pain.

Opening my eyes, I close out the opened windows, clearing my screen of the news stories.

I can’t think about it now.

Right now, I just need to look up the train times for tomorrow. I need to focus on Jesse. He’s what matters.

And Kas…he matters, but I just don’t know how to handle this.

It’s my own fault for snooping, but now, I know, and I don’t know what to do.

I should ask Cece for her advice. But I feel like, if I told her, then I’d be betraying his confidence. Technically, I wouldn’t be, but I’ve invaded his privacy enough. I have to keep this to myself.

I’ll just have to figure out what to do.

Maybe, when I see him next, I’ll just know.

But, right now, keeping it to myself seems like the safest option.

I type in the train website and start to look up the train times. I focus my mind on that and the fun I’ll have with Jesse tomorrow, keeping my thoughts off of anything related to Kastor Matis.

Twenty-Five

Kas is here again, outside the station, waiting for me. I don’t even bother to fight it. I just walk over to his car and get inside.

“Hi,” I say quietly as I click my seat belt in.

“How was your weekend?” he asks, pulling the car away from the curb.

“I saw Jesse.” I chance a glance at him.

He meets my eyes, a softness in his. “How did it go?”

“It was good.” I smile at the memory of my day spent with Jesse. It was the best day I’d had in a long time. “We went to Brighton for the day. Hung out on the beach, ate ice cream, rode rides at the fair.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It really was.”