by J. L. Perry
“I… umm… I don’t want to interrupt your family time,” I reply when I notice Aubrey rise from the blanket she was sitting on, lifting their son into her arms. Pixy, the goat, is grazing on a patch of grass nearby. “I was just wondering if we could talk when you’re free.”
“Sound’s heavy.”
I shrug. “I fucked up with Emma.”
“Man, I warned you.”
“I know. Feel free to mess up my face if it will make you feel better,” I say, chuckling and remembering the threat he made if I ever hurt her.
“Come sit.” His gaze moves to his wife. “Princess, could you grab us two beers?”
“Of course, babe.” Aubrey smiles at her husband before looking at me. “Hi, Ashton.”
“Hey,” I say, flicking my head.
“Where’s your shadow?” Chance asks as we take a seat on the step.
“Grayson?”
“Yeah, you two are usually attached at the hip?”
“He’s hating on me, too. He hasn’t spoken to me for two weeks.”
“Wow. So, I’m your rebound friend then? That’s a bit fucking rude.”
“What can I say, I’m desperate.”
We both laugh.
“You guys are in business together, how’s that working for you?”
“He communicates with me via my PA, Amber, even when we’re in the same room.” So childish. I get that he’s mad, and I know that he cares, but I’m trying to make amends. If he stopped fighting with me, maybe he could help. “It’s been shit, it’s the longest we’ve ever gone without speaking.”
“And I gather Emma is ignoring you, too?”
I run my fingers through my hair. “That about sums it up. I’ve tried everything. She won’t return any of my texts, and I’ve sent her fucking hundreds. All my calls go to voicemail. I don’t know if she’s listened to any of the messages, but I’ve left a ton. I went around to her apartment, and Carla intercepted me in the hallway, threatening to rip off my balls and shove them down my throat.”
“Carla babes is feisty when it comes to the people she cares about. You don’t want to mess with her. Those two are tight.”
I roll my eyes. “She claims to have ninja skills.”
“Fucking ninja skills,” he says, laughing. “I wouldn’t doubt it, though. She’s pretty kick-ass.”
“She doesn’t scare me.”
“Well, why haven’t you been back then?”
“I went back the following day… waited for Emma to get home from work.”
“And?”
“As soon as she saw me parked outside her building, she drove off. Ten minutes later, the cops turned up. She called them and said there was a suspicious vehicle hanging around outside her building. I think they thought I was a drug dealer because they even searched my car.”
Chance throws back his head and roars laughing. “What did you do to make her so mad?”
“She told me she was falling in love with me, so I asked her to leave.”
“Ouch. Man, you’re lucky to have someone as great as Emma love you.”
“I know, I’m a fucking idiot.”
“I’ve seen the way you look at her. I know you like her, too.”
“I do… a lot.”
He shakes his head. “Have you tried going to her work?”
“Yes, but she had security escort me from the building… twice. I even sent her flowers, and she refused to sign for them.”
“Fuck. She sounds worse than my Aubrey was when I was trying to win her back.” He pauses for a moment. “I don’t know what to tell you, except it’s going to take time.”
“I can’t even get close enough to talk to her.”
“Write her a fucking letter then.”
“I did. It was returned to sender… unopened. I’ve even stopped by the shelter a few times, but she wasn’t there.”
“She hasn’t been back to the shelter since Duke.”
I sigh. “I don’t know what else to do.”
“If she means that much to you, don’t give up. Persistence wins out in the end, trust me.”
“I fucking miss her.”
“Poor bastard,” he says. “I know that feeling well.”
“I just want a chance to explain. As fucked up as this may sound, I had the best of intentions doing what I did.”
“And what were they?”
“I was protecting her.”
“From what?”
“From me.”
“Why?”
“I’m no good for her. Since Anastasia… I don’t know… I’m messed up inside.”
“The model?”
“Yes.”
“Is she still in the picture?”
I scrub my hand over my face. “No, she killed herself six years ago.”
“Fuck. I didn’t know.”
I bury my face in my hands. “I let her down when she needed me most, and I’m afraid I’ll do the same to Emma.”
“Christ,” he says, running his fingers through his hair.
My phone dings in my pocket, so I pull it out. With Grayson and Emma both ghosting me, I haven’t been getting many messages lately.
I inwardly sigh when I see my mother’s name on the screen. Although in my heart, I knew it wasn’t Emma reaching out, I was still wishfully hoping it was her.
Mother: The jet will be ready for take-off within the hour, darling.
I read over her message again. I have no clue what she’s talking about.
Ashton: The jet?
Mother: Yes, to take Emma home.
Emma home?
She’s leaving.
“Hold on a second, man,” I say. “I’ve got to make a quick call.”
Standing, I walk a short distance away as I dial my mother’s number.
“Ashton, darling,” she says as soon as she answers.
“What’s going on with Emma?”
“You don’t know?”
“No. If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you, would I?”
“Did you two fight?”
“Something like that.”
“I thought it was unusual that Grayson was contacting me instead of you.”
“Mom, why is Emma going home?”
“She’s going to see her father. He had a massive heart attack this morning.”
A heart attack, fuck.
“The earliest available flight isn’t until later tonight, so Grayson asked if she could use the jet.”
My head is spinning as my mother’s words sink in. Poor Emma, she’d be devastated. I know how close they are. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Anything, darling.”
“Text Grayson and let him know when the plane will be ready, but don’t let on that you’ve spoken with me. Make sure the pilot doesn’t leave until I get there.”
“You’re going with her?”
“I’m not letting her go through this alone.”
“That’s my boy,” she says. “I’ll make all the arrangements.”
“Thank you.”
“Give Emma my love, and I’ll say a special prayer to Saint Peregrine Laziosi, the patron saint of illnesses, and Saint John of God, the patron saint of the heart.”
Say one to Saint John of God for me while you’re at it.
My mother had a very religious, traditional Italian upbringing. Hence, why she’s such a devout Catholic. Her faith is everything. My father, on the other hand, is an atheist—a nonbeliever. Just another reason why those two never should’ve gotten married.
I slide my phone back into my pocket as I approach Chance. “Sorry, man, I’ve got to go.”
“Everything all right?”
“Emma’s father had a heart attack.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
EMMA
I’m numb—dead inside.
They say bad things happen in threes—Duke, Ashton, and now my dad. It’s been years since I’ve felt so broken.
There’s a heavy silence in the air as Grayson pulls up alongside
a black town car parked on the tarmac. I glance out my window at the Barclay’s fancy-looking jet. I’m still stunned his family has their own plane.
Ashton’s like a real-life Richie Rich.
There’s a lady and a man both dressed in full uniform standing beside the aircraft’s steps waiting for me to board. I’m so appreciative of Valentina allowing me to use their jet, but if it were under any other circumstances, I would’ve refused. But my father needs me, and it’s imperative I get to him. I only hope I make it in time. Life without him is unfathomable.
I refuse to let my mind go there.
He’s my only family.
All I have left.
He has to be okay.
I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience as Grayson exits the car, coming around to my side and opening the door. I don’t think I could take another loss.
“We’re here,” he says, pulling me out of my haze.
Looking up at him, I force out a smile. Words will never be enough to thank Grayson for what’s he’s done for me over the past few weeks. He’s such a stand-up guy, which is more than I can say for his best friend.
I was with him and Carla when the phone call came in from Mrs. Sinclair, my father’s neighbor. Carla helped me frantically pack while Grayson called the airlines, trying to get me on a flight. Hence, how we ended up here.
My father is in the Critical Care Unit being stabilized and prepped for bypass surgery as we speak, there’s no way I could’ve waited until later tonight to fly out.
Every second counts.
I’d give anything to be able to see him before the operation, but I didn’t even ask if they could wait until I got there. I just want him fixed.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay on your own?” Grayson asks after retrieving my small suitcase from the car. Both he and Carla offered to come with me.
“Yes. I’ll get an Uber to the hospital once I land.”
“No need, I’ve organized a car to pick you up and drive you there.”
I let out a huge breath. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to make it as stress-free as possible. You know Carla and I are here for you if you need anything.”
I’m yet to cry, I know it’s due to shock, but I can slowly feel myself unraveling inside as each minute passes.
“I know. I appreciate it.”
“Keep us updated.”
He pulls me in for a quick hug before stepping back.
“I will,” I say, reaching for the handle of my suitcase. “And thanks again for everything.”
As I go to walk away, Grayson’s brows pinch together as he eyes something over my shoulder. I turn to look, and my breath hitches in my throat when I see Ashton stepping out of the town car.
Not here, not now.
I’ve spent the last few weeks avoiding him like the plague. It’s been hard, but a necessity. I’m running on empty and barely coping as it is. I can’t deal with his shit today.
My heart races as the driver retrieves a bag from the trunk, handing it to him. His eyes are fixed on me as he walks toward us.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Grayson asks when he stops a few feet away.
Ashton looks tired and stressed, and the heart-wrenching sadness that flashes through his eyes at Grayson’s harsh words makes the heavy weight in my chest intensify. It hurts me to think that what’s happened between us has affected their friendship.
Ashton’s eyes move from his to mine. “I’m sorry about your dad, Em.”
“Thank you,” I reply as my gaze drops to the ground.
I can’t look at him.
I just can’t.
“I’m going with her,” he tells Grayson.
Oh God.
“That’s not necessary,” I say, raising my head.
Ashton reaches for my hand, and as much as I want to jerk away from his touch, I don’t. A tiny smile tugs at his lips as his thumb brushes over my palm. It sends tingles rocketing up my arm. I hate that after everything that’s happened, my traitorous body still reacts to him.
“I’m not letting you face this, or the fucking people in that town, on your own.”
My body stiffens. “I’m a big girl, I don’t need your protection. I’m stronger than you think.”
I survived them.
I survived him.
Although they are the sole reason I’ve stayed away—the reason I haven’t been to visit my father in over six months. My heart constricts at the thought.
“Irrelevant, sweet-thing. I’m still coming.”
My eyes dart to Grayson, and I find him grinning. Ugh! He’s happy Ashton’s coming with me.
Snatching my hand from Ashton’s, I reach for the handle on my suitcase and march toward the plane.
“Take care of her,” I hear Grayson say as I walk away.
“You know I will.” Right, like the time you fucked me and kicked me out of your house. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’m going to stay as long as she needs me. You’ll be okay at the office without me, right?”
“Of course.”
I glance over my shoulder and see them hug. Gah. I guess all is forgiven, and their bromance is back on.
“Miss Phoenix,” the female says when I reach the plane. She smiles pleasantly as she takes my luggage.
She’s beautiful.
“Please call me Emma.”
“My name is Jasmin, and I’ll be your hostess during the flight. This is Captain Johnson, the pilot.”
“Hello.” My eyes move between them.
My body starts to hum the moment Ashton comes to stand beside me. “Jasmin… Dale,” he says, and the hostess’ face lights up like a damn Christmas tree. His mere presence seems to have that effect on the female population. My eyes dart to him, the grin he returns her is huge. He has a smile that steals hearts for a living.
Manwhore.
He’s probably fucked her too.
“Mr. Barclay,” they reply in unison.
“Come, Em.” He places his hand on the small of my back and ushers me up the stairs.
“It’s Emma to you,” I mumble. We’re not friends anymore, so he doesn’t have the right to call me that.
I gasp when we enter the cabin. I’m not sure what I expected to see, but it wasn’t this. Plush cream leather seats, not in rows like what you’d find on a normal plane. They’re divided into sections and sporadically placed throughout. A curved wooden, well-stocked bar sits at the far end, there’s a long leather couch down one side, and the letter ‘B’ is monogrammed into the fabric.
B for Barclay.
B for Bossy.
B for Bastard.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he says, gesturing his hand toward the seats in front of us. I don’t want to sit near him.
Turning, I head toward the back of the plane, but he reaches for me. “Em, please.”
“I said…” I grit through my teeth, “… stop calling me that.”
Ashton tugs my body to him, sliding his arms around my waist holding me there. My back is pressed against his chest while he buries his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply. “I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he says.
Tears rise to my eyes, but I try to blink them away. I’m not falling for his lies. I won’t be fooled again.
“I’m miserable without you, Em. I can’t sleep… I can’t think straight. Tell me how to fix this… please, tell me how I can fix this.”
“You can’t. It’s unfixable.”
You killed my trust in you.
“Emma.”
“Ashton.”
“Have you missed me? Please tell me you have?” He turns me in his arms, and I see the desperation in his eyes as they search mine.
“I haven’t missed you at all,” I lie.
Hurt mars his features as his forehead comes to rest against mine. I clench my eyes closed as I struggle to take air into my lungs.
He’s too close.
His fingertips caress my cheek,
and my skin tingles from his touch, my body awakening for the first time in weeks. He’s the only one who can do that.
“Kiss me.”
“No!”
I want to kiss him so much.
“Kiss me, Emma,” he repeats.
“I said… no.”
Drawing back, he cocks an eyebrow. “It wasn’t a question.”
Of course, it wasn’t. It was an order.
Bossy Bastard.
I gulp when he pulls me closer. His delicious scent envelops me, making me lightheaded. I’ve missed his smell, his touch. Him.
“I won’t ask again.”
“Stop bossing me around. You have no right to demand anything from me. You threw me away, remember?”
That’s it, Emma, stay strong.
Before I have a chance to protest further, he takes the initiative, placing his traitorous lips to mine. I resist for a millisecond, maybe two, but that’s about as long as my resolve lasts around him. I’ve missed the way he makes my body feel, his companionship, his laugh, the sweet things he used to do and say, even his authoritarianism. There’s something sexy about his domineering side. But, I refuse to tell him any of that. He hurt me, and I can’t let him do it again.
His kiss is hungry, possessive even—I hate and love it with equal measure. He’s like a drug, I crave him. I shouldn’t want him as much as I do, especially after what happened.
My hands fist in the front of his shirt as my legs quickly turn to jelly. Nobody has ever kissed me like he does. Nobody. And I doubt anyone ever will again.
My tongue meets his, matching it stroke for stroke. His hand moves down to my hair, gripping it. Ashton groans into my mouth as he tilts my head further, gaining better access. He’s dangerous to my heart, and despite my apparent weakness where he’s concerned, I need to remember that.
There’s a smug smile of victory on his face when he finally draws back, leaving me breathless. I want to punch him or kiss him again. I’m not sure. I’m conflicted.
“I knew you missed me, sweet-thing. And that kiss just proved it.”
“You know what, you’re so cocky it’s almost sexy.”
“Almost?”
“Uh-huh… almost. You’re not quite there yet. So, don’t let it go to your head, Barclay.”
He’s all the way there, but I’m not telling him that.
