His eyes nervously dart around.
It serves to remind me that Cece is only a few floors up, and she might hear. I don’t want to pull her into this. If she finds out Jason is here…God help him. And I don’t want Cece going to prison for murder.
Looking at the pavement, I pull in a few calming breaths, clenching my fists in and out.
I look up and stare at his pitiful face.
I can’t see the Jason I knew.
God, I used to care about this man. I trusted him. And, right now, I can’t see one single reason why that ever was.
“I shouldn’t have come,” he whispers. “It was a mistake.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I snap.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles as he starts to back away.
“Yeah, and I’m sorry I ever met you.”
He pauses, lifting guilt-ridden eyes to mine. “I’m sorry you met me, too, Daisy. You were the best thing that ever happened to me—”
“So, why?” I bang my hand to my chest. “You ruined my life, Jason. I went to prison because of you.”
“I’m sorry—”
“You keep saying that, but you’re not sorry. If you were, then you’d tell me the truth. You’d admit that you set me up. You’d tell me who else was involved.”
“I…Jesus…” He drives his hands into his hair, gripping the strands. “I didn’t have a choice, okay? I never wanted to hurt you.”
He didn’t have a choice?
“What do you mean, you didn’t have a choice?”
His eyes dart away from me. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“No.” I step closer to him. “Who?” He says nothing, so I decide to push further. “Was it…Damien?”
I know I’ve hit the nail on the head because haunted, panicked eyes flash to mine.
Anger floods my veins.
I always knew it was the both of them, and seeing the confirmation on Jason’s face…it makes me want to slap him again and again and again. And then haul his drunken, pathetic arse to the police station and force him to tell them the truth.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” I take another step closer, fury urging me on. “It was Damien. He had you take that key from my bag while I was sleeping, and you gave it to him. He robbed the jewelry store, and then he brought the key back to you. You put it back in my bag and planted the jewelry in my apartment, so the cops would find it. God, I’m right, aren’t I? Just admit it, Jason. For once in your miserable little life, tell the truth!”
I know I’ve pushed too far and too hard when I see the fury hit his eyes. A look passes over his face that makes my heart putter to a stop.
Jason’s not built like Kas. He’s actually a lot skinnier than he was when we were together, but he’s still a hell of a lot bigger than me.
And, now, I’m quickly calculating the distance to see if I can make it back into my building before he can catch me.
He’s drunk. I might make it.
And it’s like he’s read my mind because he catches hold of my upper arm, gripping tightly, his fingers biting into my skin.
He was never violent with me while we were together, but I’m not feeling so sure that he wouldn’t be that way now.
He steps up into my space, so close that I can smell the rank stench of the alcohol he drank on his breath.
“Let me go,” I grind out, teeth clenched.
But he doesn’t let go. I try to pull my arm free, but it doesn’t work. It’s like he doesn’t even feel me right now.
“God, I loved you, Daisy. So much. You were so good. So pure. Too good for the likes of me, but I wanted you anyway. And the way you used to look at me…”
“Love?” I give a bitter laugh. “You don’t know the meaning of the word. And, honestly, I’d have rather had your hate because look what your so-called love gave me—a six-by-eight room in a prison block.”
Guilt flashes in his eyes. He draws his gaze away from me. “I did the best I could for you.”
I laugh another hollow laugh. “Screw you, Jason. You did the best for yourself.” I run my eyes up and down him. “God, you’re pathetic. A drunk, pathetic excuse for a man.”
I know I shouldn’t keep pushing his buttons, but I can’t stop myself.
“You and your bastard of a brother stole my freedom from me!” I bite. “You set me up for that robbery and then just walked away clean. And you came here for, what? To say you’re sorry? Well, fuck you. If you’re as sorry as you say you are, then you’ll go to the police station, and you’ll tell them the truth. Go to the police right now, and tell them that it was you and Damien. That you both set me up. That you robbed the store.”
His eyes flare with danger, and his grip on my arm increases, making me whimper in pain.
He leans in close to my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Daisy.” His voice is low but calm and steady. “My brother and I had nothing to do with what happened that night. All I know is what everyone else knows—that you did the robbery. Your access card was used to get in the store. You were the one who had some of the stolen jewelry found in your apartment.”
Finding strength, I push him away from me, shoving him back. “Fuck you!” I seethe. “I fucking hate you, you bastard!”
“You should hate me,” he says calmly. “And you should be afraid, too. Fear keeps people quiet, and you should be quiet, Daisy.”