Page 138 of Keeping Kasey
“First, I’ll let her do what she loves most.”
James lifted his brow.
“Fight me.”
The only good thing about Kasey’s confession was the blush flooding her cheeks as she yelled at me. I didn’t even care that she was calling me a monster—a vile, cruel monster—all I could focus on was the spark ignited in her glare.
Kasey doesn’t need my pity. It wouldn’t make her feel better or make up for anything I’ve done.
But I can let her fight me—let her hate me.
“Then I’ll offer her the only thing she really wants,” I told James with a hollow smile, “to get away from me.”
A car horn blares, snapping me back to the present. I clench the steering wheel, forcing myself to focus on the road instead of the memories that haunt me. The past is inescapable. All I can do now is move forward.
Thick silence chokes me with more emotion than I knew I had the capacity for.
Dread. Guilt. Regret.
Feelings I’ve never given thought to before are suddenly smothering me, and every second the silence goes on, it gets harder to breathe.
“Where were you?” I ask, needing anything to distract me.
She stiffens in her seat, but doesn’t say a word.
“You weren’t in Payson for four months,” I say. “Where did you spend the rest of the time?”
She scoffs, shaking her head and leaning back, but my eyes fall to her hands, where she picks at her nails.
I’ve never seen her do that before.
“You’re really going to ignore me?” I ask, studying her for any other physical reactions.
“You didn’t mind my silence yesterday,” she mutters.
Wrong.
I hated her silence—even as I threatened her life for it.
I pull into a parking spot at the hotel James picked. It’s less than a ten-minute drive to the base and has several exits if we need to make a run for it.
“Well, I mind it now,” I say, watching her hands.
“Too bad.”
Something about her reaction is nagging at me, so I push again. “Where did you—”
“When I said you’re past the point of forgiveness, I wasn’t only talking about the last twenty-four hours. Questions about while I was gone areoff the table,” she says, then opens the door to climb out of the car.
So, something else happened while she was gone. Is it possible that her apathy isn’t only because of me?
Her adamance makes me want to push, but I know it won’t get me anything—except maybe another gash in my arm.
I check us into the hotel with strict instructions for the staff to forgo daily cleanings, then give Kasey her key card.
“Second floor. You’re 216, I’m 218.”
“They didn’t have anything further away from you?”
