by Codi Gary
“Neither did you and Asher.”
Her jaw tightened. She didn’t want to talk about Asher with Dustin, but he didn’t take her silent hint.
“How long have you two been together?”
“Three years.”
“Long time. You two talk about getting married?”
A sour taste rose in the back of her throat. Once upon a time, she’d thought she’d marry Asher. Their first year together had been great, for the most part. The more she thought back on it, she had probably been so surprised that the guy she’d had a major crush on in high school, who she’d thought was totally out of her league, had asked her out, and she’d ignored some obvious issues.
By the time they’d moved in together a year later, she’d been shocked the first time he’d lost his temper and shoved her into a wall. She’d stared at him in horror for several moments before she’d walked into the bedroom and started packing. He’d come in, begging her forgiveness, and trying to hold her. He’d cried and she’d told herself that it was a mistake.
And she’d warned him that it was the only chance he’d have.
Then her dad had died suddenly and she’d been lost. It had been the two of them against the world; with him gone, there was no one who loved her, except Asher. The money in her dad’s bank account went toward funeral costs and the medical bills insurance wouldn’t cover. When she hadn’t been able to cover everything, Asher had paid the remaining bills, and told her she didn’t have to pay him back. She’d gotten the job at Something Borrowed so she could save up and eventually finish culinary school.
But without her dad, she’d relied on Asher more, and although it had started small, he’d slowly started tearing her down. Telling her she had stupid taste in movies. That she should stop baking so much because she was just going to get fat again. Accusing her of working at Something Borrowed so she could meet other guys. He’d become controlling, condescending, and she’d just let it go on. Somewhere along the way, she’d stopped fighting back.
It was only now that she’d realized how far she’d let things go. And that she needed to find a way out.
“No, we don’t talk about getting married.”
He pulled in front of the house she shared with Asher, and when he got out with her, she shook her head. “You should wait here.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “I can’t use your bathroom?”
“Of course, you can. Sorry.” God, she was acting like an idiot. There was nothing wrong with having her coworker use the bathroom while she changed. She wasn’t doing anything wrong.
They walked up the path to the porch, the clip of his fancy shoes on the cement making her heart jump with every tap.
She unlocked the front door and she waved him toward the hallway. “Bathroom is that way. I won’t be a minute.”
He disappeared and Rylie went past the laundry room to the master bedroom.
She pulled out a pair of slacks, an off-the-shoulder floral blouse, and her black Skechers from the closet. The slacks would be scorching in the 103 degree heat, but they would cover the shiny black sneakers. It was disgusting how hot Nor Cal was in late September.
She was just pulling her blouse on when she heard the unmistakable rumble of Asher’s truck.
Oh, no.
* * * *
Dustin wandered around the living room of Rylie’s place, surprised at how bare it seemed. One picture of Rylie with her father sat on a bookshelf filled with paperback books. Another of Marley, Rylie, and Kelly dressed to the nines and smiling was set on the second shelf down along with a few of those silly Funko Pop! figures.
The walls of the house held pictures of Asher catching a fish when he was a kid. A framed article about him playing football. One after another of the man’s achievements were hung up. The leather chair and couch, big screen TV, and tacky neon It’s Beer O’Clock sign screamed bachelor pad.
Besides that one bookshelf, Dustin wouldn’t even have guessed that Rylie lived here. There was no color, no flair that said, “Rylie.” Meanwhile, her desk at work held a hot pink cat-shaped cup with funny pens in it and more of those Funko Pop! figures.
Something was definitely off. The way that Rylie had reacted to him suggesting they go to her house for shoes and wanting to use the bathroom… She’d seemed almost afraid.
The door slammed behind him, and he turned to find Asher standing by the entrance, scowling at him. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, black grease stains covering both. Dustin noticed that even though his arms and shoulders were still muscular, there was evidence of a beer gut.
“The fuck are you doing in my house?” he growled.
Before he could answer, Rylie came running out of the bedroom, breathing hard. “Hey, babe. Dustin just brought me by so I could change. We’re going to scout a couple of properties for a wedding and I forgot to pack my sneakers this morning. I almost broke my ankle in the heels I was wearing.”
Asher glowered at Rylie and Dustin bristled as he sneered. “You actually expect me to believe that?”
Dustin didn’t like all that anger directed at Rylie, who was pale and shaking. He moved between them, bringing Asher’s focus back on him. “Hey, man, it’s true. I just came in to use your bathroom.”
Asher stepped into him, and Dustin held his breath. The guy smelled like he’d bathed in a brewery and rolled in motor oil afterward. Was he day drinking when he was supposed to be working?
Classy.
“Was I talking to you, shithead?”
“Asher, stop it!” Rylie’s voice trembled. “We weren’t doing anything.”
Asher turned his bloodshot gaze on Rylie and stepped around Dustin toward her. “You think I’m stupid, Rys? I know this guy. What happened? He tell you you’re pretty and you just spread your legs—oof.”
Dustin hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed Asher until the other man was pressed up against the wall, Dustin’s arm across his throat. His whole body trembled with barely repressed rage as he said, “You don’t talk to her like that.”
Dustin hadn’t put his hands on another person in years; he preferred to handle disagreements without using his fists, afraid he’d lose control.
But for this douche canoe, he was about to make an exception.
Asher’s eyes popped out of his head as Dustin held him there. He wanted to drag Asher outside and teach him a lesson about bullying, but Rylie was tugging on his arm frantically, bringing him back to himself.
“Dustin, don’t! It’s okay. Put him down and let’s just go back to work.”
He turned in disbelief to look at her over his shoulder. “The hell I will! He’s out of line.”
“Please.”
Her shiny eyes cracked something in him and he let the prick go. As Asher bent over, sucking in air, Dustin stood over him.
“I’ll meet you at the car,” she said.
Every fiber in his body wanted to plant his feet and stay, but he just nodded. There was no convincing her to walk out; how many times had he tried that with his mom when his dad got violent?
It still shocked the hell out of him that Rylie would put up with this asshole though.
It’s none of my business. Just stay the hell out of it.
With a curt nod, he walked out the door.
Chapter 4
Rylie stared at the front door, wishing she could have just walked out with Dustin. To not have to deal with Asher right this second. But he’d made it impossible to ignore this. He’d threatened her coworker, insulted and embarrassed her.
This couldn’t wait.
“I’m going to kill that asshole,” Asher wheezed as he clutched his throat.
Rylie grit her teeth, wanting to tell him not to be an idiot, but it would only make him more belligerent. By the look and smell of him, he was drunk, and probably high. He’d gotten his medical marijuana card a few mon
ths ago to help with the back pain from his football injury and since then, it had become a daily habit.
“Have I ever given you any reason not to trust me?” she asked.
Asher stood up to his full height of six foot three, and his gaze slid over her. “You mean other than the fact that you’re a professional bridesmaid, whose sole job is to flirt and look pretty?”
“That’s not fair or true. I organize most of the event, I am there for the bride, and I do not flirt with anyone.”
He didn’t respond right away. When he went to the fridge, and pulled out a beer, she wanted to say something about him having enough, but she bit her cheek.
“Not going to tell me it’s the middle of the day?”
“What would be the point? I would like to have an adult conversation though. You flew off the handle for no reason, and I want to know why. Why don’t you trust me?”
He popped the top as he sneered at her. “Maybe I’d trust you more if we’d had sex recently.”
Rylie swallowed. It was true that they hadn’t in a while, probably over a month, but it was hard to get excited when all Asher did was grab at her. No romance, no sweet words. Just a hand on her breast or between her legs and his heavy breathing against her neck.
Not the best way to get her in the mood.
“Maybe I’d want to have sex with you more if you weren’t acting like such a jerk.”
He took a long drink before he nodded toward the door. “And what, you think that guy is going to treat you better? That he’s after more than sex?”
Rylie’s cheeks burned. “This has nothing to do with him and everything to do with us. We aren’t happy, Ash. We haven’t been for a long time, and I think maybe we need to take a break.”
He blinked at her, like he couldn’t believe what she was saying. “You’re leaving me?”
Rylie took a strengthening breath, but it came out shaky. “Yes. I’ll come for my stuff after work. I’d appreciate it if you weren’t here.”
Asher set his beer down and turned away from her, gripping the side of the kitchen counter. The sunlight coming through the window hit his tan profile, his chocolate brown hair and strong jaw contoured in shadows and light. He was still handsome, but around his mouth were lines of bitterness. She’d known he’d been disappointed after he’d lost his football scholarship and come home, his back screwed up, but there had still been that charming, sweet guy underneath that first year or so.
As he faced her once more, red faced and wild, all traces of the man she’d fallen for were gone.
“You won’t leave.”
The cold, hard inflection in his tone was like a slap, but she steeled herself. This had been a long time coming, and she wasn’t going to back down or cave now.
She was done being a doormat.
“I am.”
“You have nowhere to go.”
“I’ll find a place.”
“What about the money you owe me?” he asked cruelly.
She reeled back. Asher had helped her with some of the bills for her dad, but when she’d tried to pay him back, he’d told her she didn’t owe him anything. That helping out someone you loved was just part of the gig.
Obviously, that sentiment had only been in effect if they were still in love.
Refusing to let him see her hurt, she gave him a curt nod. “I’ll leave it on the table when I pick up my stuff.” It would eat into her savings, but if it meant a clean break from him, so be it.
As if he finally realized she was serious, his face crumpled and he took a step toward her, reaching out to her. “Babe, I’m sorry. I know I have been a dick, I am a dick, but don’t…don’t leave me. I need you.”
The tears in his eyes didn’t affect her the way they always had. She knew that they were just a manipulation to make her stay; if he was really sorry, if he really cared, he would have changed long before today.
Rylie moved out of his grasp, shaking her head. “No, Asher. It’s over.”
She walked away from him and opened the door, refusing to give him any more time to change her mind, and stepped into the sunshine. Her stride grew lighter the closer she got to Dustin, who was leaning against his car, waiting for her.
Suddenly, Dustin pushed off his car, his face a mask of concern. Before she realized he was moving toward her, her arm was caught in a painful vise grip. She was swung around like a ragdoll, her head snapping at the velocity. When the world finally stopped spinning, she stared up into Asher’s twisted features, too surprised to be afraid.
“You don’t get to walk away from me, bitch!”
His hand was in the air. He was going to hit her.
Asher had never hit her. Shoved her, grabbed her, shook her… He was always sorry afterward, but never had he struck her.
And he never would.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, Rylie’s knee came up, catching Asher in the jewels. She blinked as he fell to the ground, gripping his crotch and groaning.
Dustin gently eased her toward the car, his arm around her shoulder. “I’ll call the sheriff.” She didn’t protest as he pulled his cell out and dialed.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Asher rolling around and cursing her while Dustin talked to the dispatcher. When he finally hung up, she murmured, “I told him I was leaving.”
Dustin’s arm tightened around her. “Good. We’ll get your stuff and get you the hell out of here. The sheriff’s on his way.”
She nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”
Two sheriff cruisers pulled up just as Asher was climbing to his feet several minutes later. They must have been really close to get there that fast. While one of the deputies cuffed him and put him in the back of the car, Deputy Luke Jessup, Marley’s boyfriend, came over. As he passed by the patrol car, his gaze fell on Asher and his expression was rather terrifying.
It made Rylie glad he was on her side.
The big man’s frown was laced with concern as he stopped in front of them. “You okay, Rylie?”
She nodded slowly, watching Asher’s angry face through the patrol car’s window. “I’m okay.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I called Marley,” Luke said.
Rylie winced, just imagining if Asher was still here when Marley arrived. “No, that’s fine. Thanks. I should call Kelly too and let her know I’m not coming back to the office today.”
Dustin shook his head. “I’ll call her and Bill at Short and Sweet Movers. Have them bring over a truck and some boxes.”
Rylie didn’t know what to say. Gone was the smart-ass flirt, or the furious Hulk who had held Asher by the throat.
There were just too many layers to Dustin Kent.
“Thanks.”
Their eyes caught and held, his blue ones so sympathetic that it made her more uncomfortable than his inappropriateness.
Luke broke the spell when he squeezed her shoulder. “I’m going to head back out there. We’ll hold Asher until tomorrow, and it’s up to you on whether you want to press charges.”
“Thanks, Luke.”
He left, and she walked inside, Dustin on her heels, talking on his cell phone. She glanced around the house. There wasn’t much she wanted. Her books, her pictures, her clothes. She had a few things in storage, items from the duplex she’d shared with her dad that Asher hadn’t wanted in the house, but she didn’t even have a bed. And she didn’t have enough money to pay Asher, put down first and last on a new place, and buy furniture. She’d just have to find a rental fully furnished or get used to sleeping on the floor.
Dustin finally got off the phone with the movers, and asked, “You got any trash bags?”
She turned to him, puzzled. “Trash bags? Yeah, in the cupboard, but why?”
“I figured we could at least bag up your clothes until the boxes get here.”
&nbs
p; The realization of all that had happened finally hit her, and her chest tightened as panic set in. “Yeah. Yeah we could. I was just thinking about what I was going to do after I get my stuff. I haven’t even looked into any places, have nothing planned—”
“I’ve got a pool house you can use. Until you find somewhere more permanent.”
Rylie choked on her laughter, until she caught the extremely serious expression on his face.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Why? It’s empty, and you need a place to crash.”
He wasn’t wrong, but staying at his place, even in a separate dwelling?
She’d be absolutely out of her mind to say yes.
Then again, what were her options? Staying on Marley’s couch while Luke and her did it in the next room?
Rylie made a face. “How much is rent?”
“I don’t need your money,” Dustin said firmly.
“Then no way.”
He cocked his head, and shot her a bemused look. “Did it ever occur to you that I’m just a good guy trying to do the right thing?”
He must have inferred by her expression that she did not.
“Fair enough, but the offer still stands.”
Dustin headed toward the back of the house while Rylie was still mulling things over, but when he disappeared into her bedroom, she shouted, “What are you doing?”
“Helping you pack.”
The image of Dustin rummaging through her underwear drawer sent her rushing after him.
* * * *
Dustin hadn’t planned on spending the rest of the afternoon taping boxes and loading a moving truck, but by the time they finished, he was the one relieved. Relieved that Rylie was getting out of there and didn’t have to see Asher again.
Unlike his mother, who spent thirty years with a man who had used her as a physical and verbal punching bag.
Dustin clenched his fist around the handle of the moving van’s door, and slammed it shut. Once it was locked in place, he turned to face Rylie, who was being hugged hard by a distraught Marley. Marley was a tall, leggy blond with expressive green eyes that normally shot daggers his way. He’d never been interested in her, anyway.
