“Oh, no. No, Kash, he wouldn’t have done that. He, he encouraged me to write to you. Said it would help me deal with my feelings if I went off on you. I—I cried when I didn’t hear from you and he comforted me. In his way. Told me you weren’t shit to begin with and I didn’t need to be crying over you.”
Still Kash said nothing. I’d forgotten how patient he could be when I was thinking something through out loud. He’d always been like that. He used to get straight As in algebra and I always struggled with it. He’d tutored me by asking me questions and letting me argue with him until I figured it out. I used to hate that he wouldn’t just give me the solution, but now I was beginning to see the merit. If he’d just told me what he suspected I would have rejected it outright.
“Why would he do that?” I asked. “Why would he tell me to write to you and then not send the letters?”
“Why do you think he did?” Kash asked.
I shook my head. “There is no answer. And I’m not gonna accept that he did it to protect me, Kash. Because having me think you didn’t write back…that wasn’t protecting me. That was downright torture. You’re wrong, Kash. You’re wrong.”
“Okay.”
I looked at him sharply. His tone and expression hadn’t changed at all, which meant he wasn’t actually accepting that as an answer.
“Why are you letting me win?”
Kash sighed. “Because he’s your Dad. You know him better than I do. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You never admit to being wrong.”
“A lot can change in six years. I’ve been wrong before. I was wrong about you.”
My spine stiffened defensively. “What were you wrong about?”
He clenched and unclenched his fists and took a deep breath. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
It knocked the air out of me. The urge to reassure him and beg forgiveness rushed up inside me, pressing against my tongue. All that psychology I’d read whizzed through my head in an instant, shoring me up against the feelings. He was manipulating me. That was all. All I had to do was not let it work.
“Well I wasn’t,” I said. “I’m—I’m not.” It was half a lie and it came out rocky. “And you can’t make me feel bad about that. I have every right to be pissed off at the person who killed my brother.”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “Yes, you damn well do. You should be pissed at that person. You should be violently furious at that person. If you know who did it, you should beat them to death and spit on their grave for taking your twin away.”
I was shaking again. “Why are you saying that?”
“Because it’s true. And no, I don’t have a death wish, Daisy. I have a mystery to solve and a debt to settle. When I find the person who did it, I can’t promise I’ll save you a piece of the action. He was your brother, but he was the closest thing I ever had to family.”
Kash’s eyes burned with an intensity I’d never seen. If he wasn’t telling the truth then he’d taken some damn good acting classes in prison. But anger had been my comfort and constant companion for far too long. I couldn’t let it go. I pulled it close to me and let it fill me all the way up.
“Why should I believe a word you’re saying?”
A deep hurt shattered the mask he’d built over his features, striking me in my heart. That old, stale anger held its own against it. He’d have to work a lot harder than that.
“Because I’ve never lied to you.” He said it so matter-of-factly it almost shook my foundation.
“How would I know if you did?”
He lifted his hands and let them drop again. “Because you know me.”
I shook my head. “I knew you. I don’t know you anymore, though. It’s like you said. A lot can change in six years. You sure have. So have I. You don’t know me at all, Kash. And I certainly don’t know you. So try again. Why should I believe you?”
He looked away from me. Resolve spread over his profile, a thick, dead sort of resolve.
“I’m not going to argue with you, Daisy,” he said blankly. “But I am going to ask you for a favor. Just one, and then I’ll leave you alone forever if that’s what you really want.”
I scoffed and shook my head. “You are unbelievable. What favor?”
He looked back at me, eyes burning. “I want to say goodbye to Hunter.”