“I mean, it sounds like it was an interesting situation,” Asher added, as if to justify or soften his previous comment.
“It was rough. The whole experience was rough,” she admitted. Then, with a pause, she gave him a knowing look. “But truth be told, the Pseudosphere wasn’t the lowest point of my life.”
Asher seemed puzzled. “Really? But that place was awful. It’s like a constant stream of pain, pain, and more pain. Just when you think the worst of it is over, it throws something even more detestable at you.”
“Yep. I’ve experienced worse,” she said with a sly smile.
“Do you mean...” He cleared his throat. “If it was anything I did, then I’m real sorry, Mara.”
“Mhm,” she said in a careless tone. “Things happen.”
“No. Certain things are never supposed to happen,” he argued.
“Until they do.”
There was a long, silent pause as Amara glanced over at the magazines thoughtfully.
66 Reasons You Shouldn’t Take Him Back
“Maybe this is out of line, but I really miss you, Mara,” he said softly. “I said some harsh things…”
“Don’t. Don’t do that.”
“Mara…”
She closed her eyes and shook her head.
“You should hear this,” he said firmly. “I need you to know that being with you was the most meaningful thing in the world to me. I didn’t need anything else.”
Amara tried to shut out all the romantic and loving thoughts swimming in his mind; they were intoxicating. She found herself suddenly confused and unable to differentiate between what he was saying and thinking. Was he finally addressing what had happened between them? Finally ready to confront his own guilt? Could they finally move past it all?
“I know you probably don’t believe this, especially with the way I acted,” Asher said hesitantly. “I doubt you even want to hear an explanation…”
“No,” she answered softly. “I want to hear it.”
“You do?” he asked in surprise.
She snapped her head around to glare at him. “Yeah. I want you to tell me what the fuck you were thinking when you treated me like that.”
He sighed and leaned his forehead against her shoulder. “Look, I was really overwhelmed at that point in time. I know there’s absolutely no excuse, and I don't even hope for your forgiveness, or even that you will listen to my reasons. It’s just that between all the pressure I was getting from my mother, and the things Thorn was saying to me—he’d just had that blowout with Pax and he was going a bit crazy—all of that pressure combined with the personal insecurities I had…”
Amara leaned her head against his, without really intending to. She felt her hand going to rest on his leg as she glanced over at the magazines.
Still Thinking About Him? Tips on How to Move on Today.
He continued to talk and to explain himself, but Amara found it difficult to listen to his words when his thoughts were so much louder in her mind. He kept thinking how much he loved her. How much he missed her. How much he wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her and make love to her right this moment. How much he never wanted to ever let her go again. How much he wanted to spend his life apologizing and making up for his mistake, and how he didn’t believe he really deserved the chance. He was thinking that she was his princess, and as much as he wanted to be the one to treat her that way, he didn’t think he could do as great a job of it as she deserved.
But he wasn’t saying all this.
A confused expression transformed Amara’s features as she listened to his explanations, his reasons, his fears, his hopes. But all she really wanted to hear was that he still loved her. She wanted to hear him say it, out loud. To reassure her vocally that he still loved her, wanted her, and would stay with her if they got back together.
Because the truth was, she really wanted him back.
“…And I just wasn’t myself. It was a really rough time for me, and I took it out on you. Can you ever forgive me?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you saying, Ash?”
“Just that… that I’m sorry. More sorry than you can ever imagine. And I really didn’t mean any of those terrible things that I said.”
“What things?” she prodded.
Asher sucked in a breath, not really wanting to revisit that awful evening. “I don’t know. I didn’t mean that it was all a mistake. I didn’t mean that I really felt any pressure from you to get married. I mean, I know you were ready and I wasn’t—but I also know you were cool about me basically being a child trapped in a man’s body. I didn’t mean to say that ‘now or never’ crap, and…”
“What did you mean then?” she asked. Just tell me you love me, Ash. Things are simple. You either want to revive this relationship, or you don’t.
“I… Sakra, Amara! I don’t know what the fuck I meant, I was out of my goddamn mind!” Asher ripped himself away from her and stood up.
Amara hadn’t realized that they had been sitting so close, with their bodies so warmly intertwined until she felt the cold air beside her where Asher had been a moment ago. It reminded her of how abruptly he had pulled away after they had had sex on that final night together. She closed her eyes.
He reached up and ran his hands through his hair. “I just can’t take this anymore! I can’t take not speaking to you. I can’t take those hateful, callous looks you keep giving me! I can’t take this silence. I can’t take this coldness!”
“So what are you saying? What are you asking me?” she demanded. Just say the words! It’s easy.
“I just want us to be cool again. I’m asking you to please forget for a millisecond that you’re Vincent’s daughter, and have some mercy on my poor damned soul.”
Amara was silent and still for a several seconds, before a small smile crept onto her face. “There are a lot of things in this life that I can forget, my love. But I am my father’s daughter, in every possible sense.” She stood up too, and faced him squarely before cupping his face and planting a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. She let her mouth linger near his for a moment.
“I can give you just about anything you ask me for, Ash Burnson,” she whispered, gazing at him lustily through half-lidded eyes, “but mercy is not on the menu.”
She turned around to leave, but Asher blurred in front of her. He grasped her shoulders firmly.
“Mara…”
“Yes?”
“I just wish…” Asher sighed and dropped his arms to his sides. “Never mind. I’m being selfish.”
Amara nudged him gently. “Hey. Tell me. We probably won’t talk again for a while.” Just tell me exactly what you’re thinking, Asher. Tell me you love me. Do it, and we can get back together, and I can hold off on using Para to make you miserable. Because I will, and it is going to suck. For you.
“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard about some of the media crap that Thorn’s been through. Those hounds don’t know about our separation yet. Do you want to… maybe go to the ball as dates just to keep up appearances?”
“Appearances?”
“Yeah. Just so we’re not scandalized like Thorn and Pax were. There are crazy people out there. Some psycho creeps actually shot the new girl Thorn is dating. I don’t want you to be in any danger when the media finds out you’re single…”
“That’s really kind of you, Ash. But I can take care of myself now, remember?”
“There are other types of danger that physical strength can’t protect you against,” Asher said firmly. Like every fucking creep from here to Nantucket wanting to sleep with you. Where is Nantucket, anyway? It doesn’t matter, I bet there are creeps there. And you will have your normal bad judgment with men, and date all the wrong ones—like me.
“So you want to take me to the ball just to keep up appearances?” she asked. She prayed silently that he would just say the words she needed to hear.
No. I want to take you to the ball because I love you, and I want to
spend time with you and dance with you when you're wearing a beautiful gown… “Yeah. Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”
“A good idea,” she repeated, through gritted teeth, “to lie like that? How many years are you going to be my date, just to keep up appearances? Are you going to be my date next year? In five years? How long do we fake it for the public?”
“As long as…”
She glared at him, and decided to give him one last chance. “Ash, do you think things can ever be fixed between us?”
He looked defeated. “No, Mara. I’m sorry. I screwed things up for good. I just wanted to be of some small use to you.”
I’m going to regret this, she thought. “Thanks! It’s a really good idea. There’s only one problem: I already have a date.”
“You… what?”
“Yeah! He’s a really nice guy.”
“Who?”
“Just someone I used to date years ago. An ex.”
“Who?” Asher asked again with a frown. All of the guys she used to date were assholes after her money. I wonder if it’s the same guy that’s taking her to Monaco? I bet it’s some douchebag with a motorcycle and tattoos…
“You’ll just have to see at the ball, won’t you?” Amara said with a laugh.
“Yeah. I guess so,” Asher answered sourly. “Well, thanks again for making sure I got healed up. Bye, Amara.”
“See you later, Ash.” She smiled as she watched him walk away in a huff. He was definitely jealous, she observed as she read his thoughts. As soon as she was sure that he was out of earshot, flying a decent distance away from the building, she cursed softly.
Amara flipped out her phone and began to scan through the contacts rapidly. “Sakra, who should I call? Who would make it with me on such short notice? I always shove my foot in my mouth, don’t I?”
Then she saw the name on her phone. The one person from her past whom Asher hated the most, mainly because there was no reason to hate him:
Cliff.
* * *
She felt herself being gently shaken.
“You don’t need to work so hard, Paxie,” Thornton said softly to the half-awake girl. He brushed her dark bangs out of her eyes. “We’re all here, and we’ll face whatever comes together. You don’t need to do everything all alone.”
Pax mumbled something softly and Thornton smiled, rubbing her cheek.
“When you’re sleeping, you always seem so serene. So peaceful. Who would believe that you’re a killer?”
“I’m what?” asked Pax, stirring slightly. She opened her eyes and was surprised to see a pair of sea-blue orbs gazing back into hers. He was so close that she could feel his warm breath on her face. His hands were also resting on her abdomen and wrist.
Pax was taken aback by the proximity and she managed to croak out a surprised, “Hi.”
“Hi,” he responded softly. “My sister sent me. She said you could use a hand.”
She opened her mouth to protest and then she closed it again. She realized that his hands were only on her body to feel her very weak pulse. She could still barely move. There was still an intense throbbing in her head. She looked around, squinting in the fluorescent white lights to acknowledge that she was in the infirmary. She wasn’t completely healed? They must have run out of Sakra’s water. The searing explosions in her head intensified, and she shut her lips tightly, holding her breath until the attack passed.
She didn’t wince or display pain, but Thornton knew her well enough to see that she was suffering, and he reached out to place his fingers in her hair, stroking her scalp. After a few minutes of blinding pain, the throbbing in her head began to ease a little. It had been so severe that she hadn’t even noticed how intimately Thornton was leaning over her. She was content to lie still until her breathing calmed down. “Thanks for coming. Amara was right; I really needed you.”
“Paxie, will you tell me exactly what’s going on here?”
She remained in silence for a few seconds, as everything came rushing back to her. She turned to climb off the hospital bed and move away from him, but he held her fast. “Shhh, relax.”
He was right, for the sudden jerky motion caused her pain to flare up again, even stronger. She did moan this time. “It hurts. Sweet Sakra, why does it hurt so much?”
“Rate your pain on a scale of one to ten?”
“This isn’t funny, Thorn. I don’t need hospital humor right now.”
“I’m serious, Paxie.”
“I don’t… know…” she reached up and clutched at her head in an effort to soothe the pain.
“Come on, scale of one to ten! One being no pain and a smiley face, five being a slightly sad face but not totally frowny yet, and ten being…”
“Thirty. Thirty. Thirty. I’m suffering because of what I’ve done. This is karma, isn’t it? Agh.”
“You’re not making sense, now, Paxie.”
“Fucking karma,” she gasped. The world spun around her for several minutes before she was able to speak again. “Is Mara okay?”
“Yes. She’s with Ash.”
“Why? Those two shouldn’t go near each other.”
“They’ll be fine,” he said, reassuringly. He kissed her forehead. “I’m more concerned about my woman right now.”
Pax froze. “Uh, did you just call me your woman?”
He reached down and pulled the blanket that was covering her legs up around her neck. “Sure did.”
“What year is this?” Pax asked, rubbing her sore head. She felt that her skin was covered in a thin film of sweat. “Have I travelled back in time to the days when it was normal for you to take care of me and call me your woman?”
“No,” he said, gently massaging her scalp at the back of her neck. “You’ll just always be my woman. Regardless of the year or how mad at me you are. Or how many times we break up, or how many men you prefer over me.”
Pax stared at him for a moment and then she snapped her fingers. “I get it now. This is a dream. I’m dreaming, right? I know I’m dreaming, because this feels like a dream! Except for the pain and sickness.”
“It isn’t a dream…”
“No, I’m pretty sure it is. And if it is, I can do anything I want.”
“Uh…”
“Thorn, listen. I’m sorry about Para.”
“Who or what is Para?”
Pax gasped as her vision spun. She reached up and grabbed his shirt collar, yanking his torso down toward her until his forehead collided with hers. “Sakra. I love you, Thorn. I love you, and someday maybe I’ll fix all of this. If I get a chance. If I’m dying in my dream, am I going to die in reality too?”
“You need to get it together, Paxie. You’re not thinking straight.”
“Thorn.” She exhaled sharply in pain, clutching his shoulder so tightly that she saw a kaleidoscope of colors which couldn’t be blinked away. “Sakra, Thorn, I’m so sorry.”
“Easy there,” he said, prying her hand away from his shoulder and ignoring the fact that she had drawn some blood. He slipped down from his standing position over her hospital bed, and lay down next to her, pulling her body against his. It was partly to soothe her with a hug, and partly to restrain her. He rubbed her back firmly, feeling her body convulse against his.
“Wow,” he remarked. “What have you done to yourself this time, Pax?”
Her hands clutched great big handfuls of his shirt as she mashed her forehead against his chest. “I’m sorry that I hurt you,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Well, I did... but I never meant to mean to. I never thought I would be so angry and do such awful things. You’ll never forgive me.”
“What on earth are you talking about, Pax?”
“I made Medea. I made her.”
“What? You mean her career as a doctor? Is she someone you hired?”
“No. Yes! I am her. I made her. I destroyed her. I’m sorry, Thorn.”
“You’re not making any sense.” He placed the back of his hand
on her forehead. “You’re burning up with fever. You’re just delirious, that’s all.”
“I didn’t mean to. I just wanted you to see how it felt. It felt so terrible.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know that you hate me,” she whispered.
“I could never...”
“But once I started I couldn’t stop. You know that right? I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh, Pax. I think you should get some rest.”
“I couldn’t stop,” she kept repeating, over and over. “I’m sorry, Thorn. I love you. I love you. I love you so much, how could I do this to you?”
“Hey, hey! Just try to get some rest, hot stuff. You’re not being yourself right now.”
“No! I’m me now!” she all but screamed. “I wasn’t myself then! Please don’t let me go back. Keep her away from me. I don’t want to do this anymore. I love you, Thorn...”
“Wow, you must be in so much pain that you really believe you’re dying if you’re telling me you love me this much.”
Pax was quiet for a while, and her breathing slowed down to a normal pace. The tension in her body eased away. As her pain began to dissipate, Pax realized what she had said. What if it really wasn't a dream? Then she had practically confessed everything. And if it was a dream, and it was predicting the future, would everything happen the same way since she had recognized it and interfered?
“I missed you, kiddo,” Thornton said quietly. “Just focus on getting better, then later, we’ll talk.”
She looked up at him, to see whether he had understood any of her rambling about Para and Medea and—when her eyes locked with his, she saw only one thing: his desire for her. She felt inexplicably drawn in as his lips descended on hers, giving her a comforting, nurturing kiss.
His lips were warm and moist, while hers were dry and cold—the kiss felt too real for this to be a dream. She thought she should panic about this, but the sensations of the kiss had overwhelmed her body, which had been immobilized and overpowered with pain just moments before. Nonetheless, his touch infused her with warmth, and she felt her soul stirring to life. She moved her hand to rest on his chest as he began to kiss her neck and collarbone.
Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak Box Set (Books 1-3) Page 80
