Holding Out for You

by Anna Paige

  I didn’t go to him, didn’t acknowledge him in the slightest, opting instead to take the chair directly beside the desk, which put my back to him.

  Bonnie, the clerk, came in a second later, holding a steaming cup of coffee. She waved me off with a pleasant smile. “Oh, honey. You’re good to go. You don’t have to hang out back here. I know this place isn’t exactly a barrel of fun.”

  “If it’s okay, I’d like to wait here for my brother,” I said as evenly as possible as I gave her a pointed look, imploring her to understand.

  Her gaze darted from me to Ash and back before she nodded. “Sit right there as long as you want, sweetie.” She stood and gave me the sincerest, ‘us girls gotta stick together’ smile as she asked, “How do you take your coffee?”

  “Cream, two sugars. Thank you, Miss Bonnie.”

  “You’re certainly welcome.” She looked toward Ash and asked, “Coffee, sir?”

  “No, thank you,” he muttered.

  She was back in less than a minute with my coffee—and a cheese Danish—but it felt like an eternity. Twice while she was gone, Ash had quietly called my name, but I kept my back to him and shook my head.

  Bonnie set the coffee and Danish down on the corner of the desk nearest me and settled back into her chair, giving me a sideways glance. “Jake’s wife made the Danish. I think she’s trying to get me fat. Jake says she’s nesting with the new baby due any time now and all she does is bake and clean the house over and over.”

  I tore off a corner of the pastry and popped it in my mouth, though I had zero desire to eat. Bonnie had been so nice to share it, I couldn’t exactly say no. I chewed slowly, expecting that anything I ate just then would taste like sawdust in my mouth. Far from it, as it turned out.

  “Holy crap,” I muttered, reaching for another bite. “This is amazing.”

  “You think that’s good? You should have been here when she sent in a giant tray of Dolly Madison’s. I swear, I put on ten pounds in the last month. If she doesn’t have that baby soon, I’m gonna be busting out of my jeans.”

  I chuckled and continued nibbling on my food while Bonnie typed furiously on the computer. How she talked and typed that fast at the same time was beyond me.

  Beck came down the hall after a few minutes, his eyes locking on me as he made his way toward the lobby. “You good, Blair-bear?”

  “Of course she is. She’s got Miss Bonnie looking after her,” Bonnie cut in before I could answer, winking at me and then very slowly looking my brother up and down.

  Oh, crap.

  He glanced over at her and smiled. “Well, thank you. I’m glad to know she’s been in good hands.”

  Bonnie tore her gaze away from my brother’s chest long enough to grin at him and wink, this time in a slow, deliberate way that made obvious what she thought of him. “Not just good hands, great ones.”

  Lord, help me.

  Why was I always present when women hit on my brother?

  He cleared his throat awkwardly, and I heard Ash chuckle from his spot against the wall.

  “Ashton Hunter,” Luther called, seemingly coming out of nowhere as he stepped around my brother and waved Ash through.

  I turned my head as he passed, intent on my pastry and flat out refusing to look at him.

  Maybe I was being childish, it probably would seem that way to an outsider, but the truth of it was, if I looked at him, if I met his eyes, I was either going to cry or claw his goddamn eyes out. Neither of those things were appropriate in public, and the latter was a particularly bad idea in the middle of the police station. So, if anyone thought me childish, too fucking bad.

  I was doing what I needed to do to protect myself.

  I wasn’t letting Ashton Hunter humiliate me any more than he already had.

  We ended up having to wait around half an hour for Ash to finish up. I was on the verge of asking Beck to drive me and Charli home, figuring he could be back at the station in twenty minutes or so to pick up Ash, who could just fucking wait if he finished while Beck was gone.

  Before I could find a way to ask without giving Beck any reason to be suspicious, Ash finished up and we were soon on our way.

  Everyone was quiet on the way to the truck, but Beck started talking the moment he fired up the engine. “So, I asked Luther what happens next, what Tommy is being charged with, and what the likelihood of bail would be.”

  “And?” I asked.

  He turned sideways in his seat, directing his answer at me and Charli. Ash didn’t turn, didn’t flip his visor down to look at me, didn’t move in the slightest.

  “Felony sexual battery, felony sexual assault, felony use of a firearm in the commission of a crime, two misdemeanors as far as the gun itself—one for it not being registered and one for carrying concealed without a permit. The wallets could have brought another felony charge because of the total value—Cody’s alone was almost enough for a felony—but they’re citing them as separate offenses instead of lumping them together, so that brings them down to a misdemeanor.”

  “So, what does that mean for bail?”

  Beck faltered a second. “Even with all that, Luther thinks bail is still possible, maybe even likely.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Charli retorted, her face contorting in anger.

  I could relate. “How the hell is that possible? I could roll through a stop sign and get denied bail for it.”

  Beck shook his head. “Damn if I know. Apparently, he had no priors and that factors in. Doesn’t mean he’ll have the funds to post bail even if he does get it. I can’t imagine it will be cheap and the guy picks pockets and busses tables for a living. He’s not going to have the money.”

  “When is his arraignment?”

  Beck winced. “Tuesday.”

  I knew what that wince meant. “They’re gonna let him out, aren’t they?”

  “It’s possible,” he confirmed, looking distinctly unhappy to have to tell us this.

  “Fuck.”

  “What she said,” Charli muttered, looking out the window even as her hand reached for mine.

  Beck seemed to be at a loss, but I could tell by the look on his face that he was desperate to help. There was just nothing he could do.

  Nothing any of us could do.

  Except wait.

  And worry.

  Ash kept staring straight ahead as he finally spoke. “Beck, can you drop me at my mom’s place? I have to take care of some stuff. I’ll be back tonight, though.” His voice was empty of emotion, not angry or remorseful, not anything. Monotone. Like mine during my statement.

  I could only imagine what—or whom—he had to “take care of.”

  Fucker.

  Beck righted himself in his seat and shifted into drive. “Whatever you say, Ash.” My brother didn’t sound like he cared one way or the other if he came back. And I knew exactly how that felt.

  The idea of spending another night in Ash’s presence might just be enough to help me overcome my fear of that big, empty apartment Charli and I shared.

  Tommy was securely behind bars until Tuesday, not that it would keep me from jumping at every noise, irrationally expecting him to dart out of every shadow, but that was just me overreacting.

  Even after they let him out, there was no reason to assume he’d come after any of us. Not after the beating Beck and Ash had given him. As far as threats, my rational self kept saying that he probably wasn’t one.

  Ash, on the other hand . . .

  Yeah, I might just talk to Charli about heading back to the apartment this afternoon, before Ash has a chance to return.

  Better to be where I might be hurt than to go where I was certain to be.

  Ashton

  I got out of the truck with the promise that I’d see everyone later. Not one of them seemed excited at the prospect.

  I didn’t know whether to be pissed or hurt by that, so I decided to be neither.

  Not right now.

  I had to keep my head down and do what
needed to be done so I could get back and sort this shit out.

  My truck was in the driveway, which meant my mom was home. I’d told her to use it for her errands or whatever she planned to do this weekend, but she apparently hadn’t listened.

  Because she was lying in wait for me.

  I knew she’d want to talk, and just the thought of having to rehash it all again made me want to break something. It didn’t matter that I’d already told her everything, she’d want to hear it all again while she looked me over in search of the tiniest scratch or the barest hint that I was downplaying the whole thing.

  She was protective as hell, my mom.

  Probably where I got it from, since my dad was . . .

  I shook my head.

  There was enough shit rattling around in my mind already without that bastard putting in an appearance.

  With a deep breath in my lungs and as much patience as I could muster, I walked into the house and went in search of my mom so I could get the inquisition over and call Marin.

  I couldn’t wait until tonight.

  I needed to see her as soon as possible.

  Blair

  After we dropped Ash at his mom’s, Beck drove us back to my parents’ house in relative silence. He offered twice to stop off for food, but Charli declined, and I was still overly stuffed after the big breakfast Ash and I had cooked for everyone. Plus, I’d had the super-rich Danish at the police station, not that I had a single regret about that.

  Jake’s wife sure knew her way around a pastry.

  When we pulled up, Beck held the door open for Charli and I slid over to exit out the same side. As soon as my feet hit the ground, my brother crushed me against his chest and kissed the top of my head.

  I squeezed him back, torn between the urge to cry and wondering what brought this on.

  I wasn’t about to give in to the tears, not ever if I could help it, but definitely not in front of Beck. Stepping out of the embrace, I smiled up at him. “What was that for?”

  He looked to be on the verge of saying something else when he sighed and shrugged. “I just figured you might need it. I know you weren’t looking forward to going to the station today.”

  I nodded. “I’m just glad it’s over. I can’t rewind the last forty-eight hours and undo it, but at least now I can move on and pretend it never happened.”

  That applied to a few things, not that I could tell him that.

  He gave me a sad smile and put his arm around my shoulders. “Well, if you find yourself struggling to do that, you know you have me, right?”

  “And me,” Charli added as Beck threw his other arm around her shoulders.

  Beck may not have known everything I was going to be fighting to forget, but Charli did. And the look she gave me had my eyes welling up. “Thanks, guys. I know. And I love you both.”

  Beck squeezed my shoulder and Charli reached around his waist to rub my back as we walked.

  Who needed Ashton Hunter, anyway? As long as I had Beck and Charli on my side, nothing and no one else mattered.

  Beck argued when I told him I was thinking about going back home today. He said one more night wouldn’t hurt. It was only Sunday, and campus was closed tomorrow for some planning thing, so it wasn’t like Charli and I had classes to worry about. He sounded so concerned but oddly enough, he watched Charli the most as he pleaded with me not to go.

  She’d been less than enthusiastic about leaving, but I think she gave in because she knew I didn’t want to be around Ash.

  Was I being selfish?

  I watched my brother as he walked over to where she was sitting on the couch, looking down at her with concern in his eyes. “Are you absolutely sure you want to go back tonight?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at me, hesitating. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

  I’m such a selfish bitch.

  Beck looked up at me, clearly torn between wanting to help her and wanting to respect my wishes.

  Maybe he could do both.

  “Beck,” I began, thinking this would be a great solution, as long as he didn’t think too hard about my motives. “What if you came and stayed with us tonight? You’d be able to keep an eye on us, serve as sort of an insurance policy in case we need you, and we’d be getting back to normal as much as possible. You don’t have any interviews scheduled, right?” He shook his head, looking intrigued by the idea. Charli looked relieved at the thought, so I continued with my proposition. “Plus, our couch is a thousand times more comfortable than these, so you won’t suffer permanent spinal misalignment for your troubles.”

  He thought about it for a second. “That could work. I mean, Ash won’t be able to go with us since you only have one couch, but he’ll be fine.”

  “Sounds like he has other things to attend to anyway,” I commented, barely managing not to roll my eyes.

  Beck shook his head. “He’s . . . I just don’t get him sometimes.”

  “Anyway, what do you think about that plan, Charli?”

  She turned toward me, already nodding enthusiastically. “I’m totally on board with that.”

  “Good, because I can’t take another night of you snoring,” I teased.

  She flipped me off. “I didn’t snore last night, heifer. You know that only happens when I drink red wine.”

  “Uh-huh. I thought you were going to inhale your pillow.”

  “Bitch,” she snorted, laughing. “Although I think I may have come close. Dreamed about eating a giant marshmallow.”

  Beck just shook his head at us. “When you two are done with your comedy act, how about getting your stuff together? We can stop off at the market and pick up something amazing for dinner.”

  “As long as there’s no red wine involved.” I chuckled and ducked down the hall as Charli tossed a throw pillow at me.

  I just had to keep this up, the playful, joking, light-hearted Blair who had—at least outwardly—shaken off all the drama.

  I could be broken-hearted Blair once I was safely in my bed, without the concerned eyes of my brother and bestie constantly flitting my way. And certainly without Ashton Hunter’s lying ass there next to me.

  My phone didn’t ring all afternoon. Not once. Not a single text. Nothing.

  What could he have possibly said anyway? He was busted and he knew it. What point would there be in continuing the charade?

  If my phone was eerily silent, Beck’s was about to vibrate off the coffee table. Every few minutes it went off again, but he would pick it up, glance at it for a second, and then place it right back where it was; face down on the table.

  He didn’t comment on who was burning up his phone, and there was no reason to assume all the calls and texts were from Ash, given how small our town was and how everyone loved to be informed of all the latest gossip.

  I was betting the vast majority of the buzzing was attributed to the nosiness of the town. Hell, maybe it was all gossip mill related. Knowing Beck, he’d already put the word out that I was to be left alone, which would explain my complete lack of calls and texts asking about the drama.

  I had no idea what the dynamic currently was between Ash and my brother, but there was definite tension between them. Maybe that was part of the reason Beck was so willing to crash with us for the night. Distance from Ash.

  I knew that needing to not see Ash’s face or hear his smooth, lying voice was the reason I’d suggested it in the first place.

  The way he’d so quietly called my name at the police station nagged at me. There was something about him choosing not to be his usual assertive-bordering-on-aggressive self that kept me going back and replaying it in my head.

  He’d sounded . . . sad somehow.

  Yeah, sad he didn’t get to bang me before I found out the truth.

  My pissed off inner voice wasn’t having it, wasn’t about to feel a shred of concern for him after what he’d done. Or tried to do.

  I should send Cody Blake a thank you card.

  If he hadn’t blabbed, I shud
der to think how long I might have bought into Ashton’s bullshit.

  Charli seemed much more relaxed once we got back to the apartment. After taking a while to get acclimated, we grabbed our stuff, tossed our laundry in the wash, unpacked our toiletry bags, and flopped down on the couch while Beck was in the kitchen sorting out dinner.

  For a guy in his mid-twenties, Beck was surprisingly domestic. Probably because our dad was. Mom said Dad couldn’t boil water when they met, but she dragged him in the kitchen every time she cooked, chatting and asking him to help with small things as she prepped their meals. Before she knew it, Dad was the one asking her to do the small jobs while he created amazing dishes of his own.

  And she’d done the same with me and Beck.

  I could still remember standing on a stool helping her make cookies and fudge at Christmastime. I bet I was four the first time she let me stir the fudge—until my little arm was so tired I begged off and let her take over.

  Shit, now I want fudge.

  I shook off the sugar craving—that giant Danish was enough—and called out to my brother, “You need help, Beck?”

  “Nah. You sit your butt right there. I got this.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t offering. I was going to make Charli assist.” I was stretched out on the couch, while she sat on the love seat off to my right. “She just loves to cook, don’t ya, Charli?”

  “Um, no.” She gave me the stink eye, speaking loud enough so Beck could hear in the kitchen. “I’m more of a consumer of delicious food than a creator. I’ll be great as a taste tester, but beyond that, I stay out of the kitchen.”

  Beck chuckled and called out, “I bet I could teach you some basic stuff in no time.”

  “I know how to use a knife and fork, which as far as I’m concerned is all I need to know.”

  My brother’s phone was still on the coffee table and once again, it began to vibrate. And vibrate. And vibrate.

  Oh, for the love of Pete.