Asa (Marked Men #6)

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Asa (Marked Men #6) Page 4

by Jay Crownover


  My mother was a stunner, so I came by my good looks naturally. She was also an habitual adulterer and had been through so many marriages and relationships that I stopped counting before I got out of my teens. When I was younger I thought it was embarrassing and it made me uncomfortable. As I got older I realized she simply wasn’t happy, had never been happy, and as much as she loved me and doted on me, I was never going to be enough to fill the void she had in her heart. I learned to accept the relationship we had, not ask questions, and just tried to support her like she had always supported me. Even if the majority of her decisions when it came to the opposite sex made me squirm in my seat, I loved the mom I had, every flighty, flirty inch of her.

  It was because of Dom and not my mother that I excelled. I strove for greatness and I had reached every goal I had ever set for myself. And now, because of me, he was laid up, full of holes and broken. It was absolutely unfair to him and I had no clue how I was supposed to ever make it up to him.

  The hospital parking lot felt like it was a million miles wide as I trudged across it in the cold. By the time I hit the sliding doors my fingers were numb and my uncovered ears were burning from the wind. I felt like an idiot because I didn’t even know what floor Dom was on or what room he was in. Some best friend I turned out to be. Shame settled heavy and thick on my shoulders and I really had to fight the urge to turn around and go back home and bury my head under the covers.

  The person at the reception desk found Dom’s information for me and I took the elevator up to the correct floor. I didn’t have to worry about finding his room because both of his sisters were lingering in the hallway as if they were waiting specifically for me.

  All the Vosses had beautiful dark hair and eyes in various shades of green. Ariella was the youngest of the three siblings and she was a firecracker. Greer, the oldest and the most reserved of the group, snatched me up in a hug that shocked me into stillness as soon as I reached them.

  “We’ve been so worried about you. You haven’t called or shown your face. No one knew what happened to you or how you were handling the investigation. I thought Ari was going to have to sit on Dom to keep him in that hospital bed after the first week when you were a no-show.”

  I groaned and hugged her back. I couldn’t believe how selfish and thoughtless I was behaving.

  “I just …” I trailed off as Ari rolled her eyes at me.

  “You were being an asshole.”

  Greer snapped her sister’s name, but I squeezed her hand and nodded at Ari. “I was. I’ve never let Dom down before and I was having a hard time with it.” Was implied I had moved past it, but they didn’t need to know that was a big fat lie.

  Ari gave me a hard look but inclined her head toward the open door a few steps down the hallway. “He’s been waiting to see you for forever. We’re going run to his apartment and make sure it’s all ready for him. He’s gonna be wheelchair-bound for the next three or four weeks. Greer and I are going to alternate weeks with him until he’s okay to be on his own.”

  I blinked dumbly. Dom was a big hunk of beefcake. He was tall and powerful, in amazing shape, and had always been the most capable man I had ever known. The idea of him in a wheelchair and needing help with day-to-day living made the cement block that lived in my guts now get five times heavier.

  “I can help. Just let me know what you need.” I sounded kind of strangled and strained to my own ears.

  “You’ll be back to work soon. Ari and I got it. Besides it’s payback for all the times he took care of us growing up.”

  Dom’s dad had been on the job when they were growing up. He was a patrol cop until a confrontation with an armed robber had gone awry and the Vosses had suddenly found themselves burying the patriarch of the family well before his time. Dom had instantly stepped in to fill his old man’s shoes like any good son was bound to do. The fact that he had taken it as far as going into law enforcement just like his dad was still a sore spot for his mom.

  I cleared my throat and fought the urge to fiddle with my hair nervously. “Dom has always taken care of me, too.”

  Greer sighed, grabbed my shoulders, and turned me so I was facing the room.

  “Right, he has, and we both know what he wants is for you to go back to work. He’s not going to be able to for Lord knows how long, so he’s going to have to live vicariously through you for a while, Royal. What he’s always wanted for you is for you to live up to your full potential. Don’t let this knock you down after how hard you’ve worked to build yourself up.”

  If only it was that easy. I inhaled deeply and took the step I had been avoiding for two weeks.

  He was propped up in the bed, dark hair mussed all over his head. His green eyes were locked on the doorway, obviously watching for me. His big body was all wrapped up in plaster and bandages. His handsome face was dark with irritation and a scruff of beard that was pretty impressive. He looked terrible and wonderful all at the same time. I was so lucky that he was still alive and I wasn’t the one having to tell his family that they had lost another person they loved to the job.

  I couldn’t help it, the waterworks started up. I really wasn’t much of a crier, but something inside of me was wrong, off, or not working right. The tears leaked out and Dom reached out his uninjured arm slowly, the small movement obviously hurting him.

  I bolted to the side of the bed and let him tug me softly to his side. I felt his lips touch the top of my head and his broad chest rumbled as he told me, “’Bout damn time.”

  All I could do was whisper back, “I know.”

  I should have been here all along, or even more accurately, I should have been the one lying in this hospital bed all along. How was Dom ever going to forgive me if I knew there was never going to be a time when I could forgive myself?

  CHAPTER 3

  Asa

  The following weekend came and went without any kind of incident. I wasn’t sure if that was because Royal had taken my warning to heart and stayed home, or because Rome’s friend Dashel—Dash—Churchill was officially on the payroll. There was no way anyone would be stupid enough to tangle with the massive wall of muscle that hardly spoke but glowered like a pro. The guy’s scowl was enough to shut down even the slightest bit of misbehavior, and while the break in having to be the bad guy was nice, I was worried the guy’s dark and brooding demeanor could scare off potential customers.

  Rome was fairly hulking, and on the quiet side as well, but there was something about this other ex-soldier that indicated, loud and clear, that at some point in time not too long ago, the man had been a stone-cold killer and was not to be messed with. Even Dixie, who could get along with anyone and everyone, was giving the new recruit a wide berth, even if she was also giving the brute an interested side eye when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. All the ladies in the bar seemed to think the caramel-skinned behemoth with his mixed ancestry and impenetrable dark gaze was easy on the eyes—not that he seemed to give a rat’s ass about the female attention.

  It was slow for a Monday night, so I had sent both of them home early and let Avett close down the kitchen. There was no sense in paying them to hang around when there was only one person at the bar. I knew Zeb Fuller pretty well. He was friends with my brother-in-law and the rest of the crew I spent most of my time with, and he was a regular at the Bar. He was another beast of a man that emanated a whole lot of don’t-fuck-with-me. It must be something about the clean mountain air that allowed the men in the state to grow into giants. I wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination, but more often than not, I found myself eye to eye or having to look up at most of the guys that made up my social circle. It was just one more incentive to keep my ass in line. There were way too many guys around that were very capable of kicking my ass six ways to Sunday if I screwed up again.

  Zeb had a pensive look on his face and was absently stroking his beard. Since moving to Denver, I had learned quickly that the three B’s ruled all—beards, beer, and babes. The mile-high
had a plethora of all those things, and when in doubt a conversation could always be started by picking one of the holy trinity. In a pinch, the Broncos always worked as a substitute B as well. Zeb had the beard, he didn’t drink beer, and I knew, since he was at the Bar spilling his guts all the time, that his current babe situation was stuck in neutral because the girl he was hung up on seemed clueless to how he felt about her. She was also the older sister of one of his best friends, Rowdy, who wasn’t exactly thrilled with Zeb’s interest in his sibling.

  I was finishing wiping down the bar and restocking the cooler while Zeb sulked into his almost empty glass of Jack and Coke. I never thought I would be the guy that others went to with their problems. I wasn’t exactly sympathetic or patient with things that I thought were obvious, but ever since I stepped foot behind that bar, I felt more like a therapist than a drink slinger. What was even more shocking was that I liked it. I liked being able to see the situation from the outside and point out things from my own unique perspective. After all, I had screwed up enough for an entire army of people, so I figured I might as well put those hard lessons learned to good use.

  “Why don’t you just ask her out on a date?” I tossed the bar towel onto the dirty-rag pile and picked up the remote to turn off the TVs. I was going to shut it all down at midnight since Zeb was the only customer and I knew enough to know he just wanted to talk, not to drink.

  He looked up at me and frowned. “You’ve met Sayer. Does she strike you as the type to go on a date with a guy like me?”

  Sayer Cole was a bit of a mystery. She was a lawyer, beautiful in a really elegant and refined way, and she had surprised our little group of misfits by coming to Denver and claiming one of us as her own blood. Rowdy never knew he had a sister after growing up in foster care, so the reunion had been rocky at best. Only now she fit in seamlessly with the rest of the wayward souls that made up the tight-knit unit my little sister, Ayden, had been so fortunate to marry into. I was also lucky that they all took me into the fold based entirely on the fact that Ayden wasn’t going to give me up. She might not like me very much all of the time, but she loved me unconditionally, and that was enough for the rest of the group to welcome me with open arms.

  “She’s nice. She seems pretty cool with whatever comes her way.”

  Zeb pushed his empty glass at me and ran his hands through his unruly hair. The guy was a contractor, built things for a living, so it kind of fit that he reminded me of a modern-day lumberjack.

  “I’ve been flirting with her, teasing her and dropping hints since the day we met. She’s smart. If she was interested she would pick up on what I’m laying down.”

  “Maybe.” I braced my arms on the bar and leaned across from him. I gave him a steady look and asked seriously, “But don’t you think she’s probably a little more used to formal invitations from someone that wants to take her out? Everything about Sayer screams country club and formality. Maybe she just doesn’t get what you’re after.”

  He blinked at me for a second and then leaned back on his stool. “You think?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. She hired you to work on her house even after you told her you served time. She let you be around Salem’s sister when we all know she’s protecting that girl like a mama bear, so she obviously trusts you and is comfortable around you. Maybe she’s waiting for you to up your game. Not all ladies are gonna start pulling off their clothes and crawl between the covers because you smile at them. I heard you tell Rowdy once that you weren’t afraid of doing the work if the lady is worth it. Sayer is worth it.”

  She really was. She had helped me out of a hard spot not too long ago, and when Rowdy’s girlfriend had needed a safe place for her little sister to recover from a really terrible situation, Sayer hadn’t hesitated to take the girl in. She was as kind and generous as she was lovely. She deserved a guy that was willing to go the extra mile for her even if that guy kinda resembled a tattooed Paul Bunyan.

  Zeb pushed up off the bar and lifted both of his dark eyebrows at me. “I question taking romantic advice from a guy that’s repeatedly turning down the hottest piece of ass I’ve ever seen. That’s just wasteful, man.”

  I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. “That’s the whole point: she’s not a piece of ass, and I don’t know why she’s suddenly acting like she is. Besides, any chick that can throw me in jail when I piss her off is off the table.” What I really meant but didn’t say was that I knew I was bound to screw up and piss her off. That was just what I did.

  Zeb grunted. “I think I’d risk a night in lockup for her. Saying no to all of that is like a Herculean feat. Someone should nominate you for sainthood.”

  I laughed drily and followed him to the front door so I could lock it behind him. “The halo would burst into flames if they got it anywhere near my head.”

  He gave me a hard look. “You know I don’t think you’re half as bad as you seem to think you are, Asa. Trust me, I know better than most about screwing up on an epic level, but I’ve never let that define who I was going to be for the rest of my life.”

  I might have bounced in and out of jail since I was a teenager, but I had never had to spend more than a few weeks at a time locked down. Zeb, though, had served several years behind bars for his mistake. The difference between us was that Zeb had broken the law because he felt like he didn’t have any other choice. I broke the law because I wanted to. The law got in my way, prevented me from getting what I wanted or what I thought I needed, so I ignored it and pretended like it didn’t matter.

  “Some people screw up, and then some people are screw-ups. I fall firmly into the second category.”

  There was no other explanation as to how Ayden and I could have half of the same genetic makeup and be so vastly different. Granted there was a good chance I absolutely took after my scumbag of a father, a father we didn’t share. Yet we were so opposite I often had to wonder how we had been brought up in the same house and lived the same hard-knock childhood. I had no clue how she could be as together, as composed and steady, as she was. I don’t know how she had found a space in her new life for me or how she had stayed by my side when I was dying. I knew she had every reason to walk away from me, but instead she had done everything in her power to save me and she had given me a new life of my own. One I was terrified I was going to rip to shreds any second now.

  Zeb shook his head a little and yanked the door open. “I think you need to cut yourself some slack.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  I shoved him on his shoulder out the door and closed it in his face. I liked Zeb. We had a lot in common, but he didn’t know the whole story, didn’t know some of the really terrible things I had done. He didn’t know that when I died, when everything went black and I knew I wasn’t coming back to rejoin the mortal coil, every single, terrible, awful, horrible thing I had ever done in my life floated before me live in vivid color.

  The way I used Ayden. The way I had never stopped her from doing what she was doing, which I did so that I could get what I wanted. The sex, the drugs, all of it a kaleidoscope of regret so hard and heavy I was sure it was dragging me to hell. I loved my sister more than anything in the world and yet I hadn’t ever been able to stop myself from treating her like a pawn in one of my games. Watching what I did to Ayden, what I allowed her to do for me, was worse than every blow from the baseball bats the bikers had wielded. Seeing the heartbreak in her whiskey-colored eyes when I finally caught up to her after years apart was enough to make me glad I wouldn’t ever be opening my own eyes again.

  On top of that, there were the old ladies I scammed and the bikers I ripped off. There were the cars I stole and the men I knew my mom was sleeping with to pay our rent while I did nothing to stop it or help the family out. There was the debutante I had charmed into giving me her college fund, which I promptly wasted on a backroom poker game. There was the elderly gentleman looking for a companion that I had convinced not only that I was gay, but that I was inte
rested in him, convinced him just enough to get him to write me a check so I could pursue my passion for photography; needless to say, I wasn’t gay or a photographer, but his ten grand had gone a long way in funding my next scam. The number of people I had screwed over was endless, and as their faces rolled like a movie behind my eyes as life leached out of me, I knew I was getting what I deserved.

  When I had woken up, had seen Ayden looking down at me while I struggled to realize that even the devil in hell didn’t want me, I realized something bright, sharp, and clear. I was an asshole. I was a bad man that had done bad things and I was always going to be that guy, but I never, never wanted to hurt my sister again. I never wanted her to have to worry about me, never wanted her to have to suffer for me or lose anything because of me ever again. I was always going to be a screw-up, but I was going to actively try to avoid causing any more damage, and so far it had been going pretty well. I just had to hold on to those memories, those regrets and that remorse, tight enough that my hands would be too full to ever do the devil’s work again.

  I pulled the cash drawer out and put it and the sales receipts in the safe that was in Rome’s office. I made sure all the cameras were on, especially the ones in the parking lot that he had recently installed. I got jumped one night after work by a bunch of kids with a vendetta that had actually led to my arrest and a legal headache that had taken longer to deal with than it should have because of my past. So now I was hypervigilant and always made sure the eye in the sky was watching my every move.

  It was a little after one in the morning. The parking lot was mostly empty except for a few cars that were left over from people that hadn’t wanted to drive home after drinking or local neighborhood cars that Rome let borrow a slot. The Bar wasn’t in a terrible part of town and I was now pretty used to keeping odd hours since I didn’t get out of work until well after most of the world went to bed. I kind of liked the quiet of it all.

 

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