by Amy Patrick
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me. Whatever you want.”
“What I want is to see a smile on that pretty face. You okay? You sure you don’t want to go by the apartment and get your stuff?”
I shook my head. “I’m sure.”
And no, I wasn’t okay. Asher was probably right. I thought I could trust Culley, but I didn’t want to take any chances—not with Asher’s life. If Culley were to change his mind and mention my defection to his father, there could be someone, or many someones, waiting for us at his apartment. Thanks to Audun’s stipend I had cash—I could buy a change of clothes and a toothbrush somewhere along the way. Beyond that, I didn’t really need anything.
A police car with flashing lights and blaring siren passed us, making me think of the police detective. I wouldn’t be paying him a visit either. Would that be a bad thing for him? Put his life at risk? If Audun couldn’t make him forget what he knew, would he make the man disappear? I couldn’t think about that right now.
I glanced over at the adorable boy who’d driven more than a thousand miles to come and get me, who’d showed up exactly when I needed him and, with no questions asked, was helping me get away from the man who’d surely kill me on sight when he learned I’d defied him—who’d delight in killing Asher on sight. I could not allow that. I felt terrible for Detective Ballard, but when it came down to a choice between his life and Asher’s, there was no choice.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Asher asked.
“About you. Why did you come? How did you know I’d leave with you?”
“I didn’t know. I hoped you’d want to come with me. I could tell from Ryann’s answers to my questions you weren’t real happy with your situation up here.” He grinned. “I thought you might be having a problem.”
“You and your problem-solving. There are lots of people with problems in the world. Why me? Why do you even like me in the first place? I’m a mess.”
Asher chuckled. “Show me one person who isn’t a mess, and I’ll show you a good liar.” He paused for a moment, rolling his lips in and back out as if deciding whether to say something. “You know, when I met you, my girlfriend had broken up with me a few days earlier. I’d been walking around in kind of a fog since, and then I saw your car in the Food Star lot there, and the California plates. I’d always wanted to go to California—to go anywhere exciting—I knew I had to meet you.”
I laughed. “So it was my license plate you were interested in.”
“At first. And the Corvette. And then you rolled down the window, and I got a look at what was inside the Corvette.” He stretched out his arm and lay his hand on the seat face up in a clear invitation. I placed my hand on top of his palm. He wrapped his strong fingers around it. “You were so pretty I could hardly breathe looking at you. And you looked so sad. Why were you cryin’ that day?”
“It’s a long story. I was talking to my mom on the phone. And thinking about my dad.”
“Divorced, huh?”
“No... he’s dead. He died when I was little.”
His fingers squeezed mine. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” I paused but decided to go ahead and ask the question burning in my mind. “Why did she break up with you?”
“She said she needed a hero. And that I wasn’t hero material.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve never met anyone more heroic in my life.”
He shrugged. “Not really. She said she needed someone who was ready to commit, to be there for her forever. I was... not really ready for all that, and she could tell. Katelynn broke up with me after I finally manned up and was honest with her.”
My insides tightened at the statement. What truth had he told that would make his girlfriend break up with him? “About what?”
“I told her I wouldn’t be sticking around after graduation. She never wants to leave Deep River. It was kind of a deal breaker.”
“Oh. I thought you liked it there. You seem like you’re the mayor of that little town or something.”
He waved a hand through the air in a dismissive gesture. “It’s not that hard to know everyone when there aren’t that many people to know. I mean, it’s a great town, the people are great, but you know, I want to do something with my life.”
“Wouldn’t you miss the farm? And your family?”
Now he slid a questioning look over at me. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to change my mind about getting out of there. I would have thought a big-city girl like you would look down your nose at a nowhere hick town in Mississippi.”
“Not at all. I loved it there. It’s... cozy.” I didn’t mention my fetish for land and growing things. This wasn’t going to be one of those soul-baring road trips. This was going to be a get-me-to-the-Light-Court-so-I-can-report-back-and-then-get-lost kind of trips. “I think you’re lucky to have grown up in a place like that, with people like that.”
Asher laughed and shook his head. “You are one weird chick, you know that?”
My laughter joined his. “You have no idea. Hey, how’s your granddaddy doing—you know—after the explosion?”
“He’s good. Tough old goat. They kept him in the hospital a couple of days after his concussion because of his age, but then I think the nurses were probably begging for mercy, and they sent him home. He’s got a limp where he took a piece of stained glass to the knee, but he’s already back out working the farm.” He gave me a mischievous grin. “He’s dying to meet you—told him and Momma all about you.”
“Oh, you did, huh?” I wouldn’t be meeting his family. For some reason the thought made me sad. “I’m sure they were super-impressed with my tower-climbing skills.”
“Well, maybe I didn’t tell them everything about you. But I told them you’re special—especially to me.” Asher cast a long look over at me. His smile was so sweet it was like tiny invisible hook lines had been thrown at my heart and were busily reeling in their catch.
For a long moment I stared at him, filled with a sense of wonder. What was going on here? Was I swaying him unintentionally? I didn’t think so. Or maybe this was how it worked—you met someone, and the connection defied all reason. Never having been in a real relationship I couldn’t say.
“I don’t understand this,” I murmured, more to myself than to Asher.
He let out a deep laugh, reaching over to caress my cheek. “Me either. But I’m going with it anyway.”
Chapter Twenty
Backstage Access
Asher stuck to his plan of keeping to the back roads. We made our way through Pennsylvania, Maryland, and into Virginia, watching the rocky hills and rolling pastures turn into long stretches of green mountainous terrain as we listened to the radio and talked about anything and everything that came to mind.
He told me about his life, how he loved sports but had stopped playing football, basketball, and baseball in tenth grade because his mom and granddaddy needed his help on the farm, how he loved Marvel movies and vanilla shakes and hated cold weather and sitcoms. How he planned to live in a high rise in a giant city someday and make enough money to have a second home on a beach somewhere.
“You seem older than eighteen to me,” I said.
“Well, I’ve been working on the farm since I was twelve. It’s a lot of responsibility. Granddaddy says a heavy load makes a strong man.”
Sneaking a glimpse at the large, tanned hands gripping the steering wheel and the muscular arms attached to them, I had to agree. He was curious about my life, too, and I shared as much as I dared about my modeling career and growing up in New York and California.
“It’s nice there for sure,” I said. “But there’s so much natural beauty here.” I sighed, staring out the window at the rolling hills and non-stop greenery.
Asher chuckled. “I guess it’s true what they say—we always want what we don’t have. Here you are, all ga-ga over the sticks while I’m dreaming of getting the hell out of them.�
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“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, you know? City living—it can be lonely. And without someone to share it with, lots of money means nothing.”
“Yeah, I figured you for a rich girl—fancy car, fancy clothes. Plus... only rich people say money means nothing.”
“It’s true—if money could buy happiness, my mom would be the happiest person on earth. She’s bought it all at one time or another, and she’s still miserable.”
“Is that why you’re running away?”
My head snapped over to face him. “I’m not running away.”
“Aww now, don’t lie to your old friend, Asher. You’re pretty eager to get away from something, or I wouldn’t be lucky enough to have you here in the cab of my truck. Maybe it’s not your mom, then. Maybe it’s your ex-fiancé? I assume this is not just some lovers’ spat?”
“No. It’s over with him—for good. And no, it’s not him I’m running away from exactly. I... it’s complicated. I can’t really explain it.”
I couldn’t tell him about Audun and the Dark Court and its plot against the human race—all of it was strictly forbidden to discuss with a human, and it was too dangerous for him to know anyway. Besides, if I did tell him about the Fae world, he’d think I was lying. Or insane.
I felt bad—he’d been so kind to me. I didn’t like deceiving him about who I really was and what I was really doing here. It was like a reverse picture of the road trip I’d shared with Culley, when I’d been so angry with him for not being completely honest with me. Now here I was, treating Asher the same way. Was that what Culley had been doing all along—protecting me? It didn’t matter. He’d sent me away. I’d never see him again, and I didn’t want to—not after what he’d admitted to.
“I think you could explain it, but obviously you don’t want to. Which is okay—for now. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.” Asher flipped through the radio stations, searching for one that would come in clearly until he landed on a song by Aiden Ray. He put his hands back on the wheel and started nodding his head with the techno-dance beat.
“Ugh.” I reached for the buttons to change the station. “I can’t stand that little worm.”
I’d had to leave New York without confronting him, if he was even in the city anymore. Hearing his voice was an unwanted reminder of the things I’d had to do to protect that monster from prosecution.
“Hold on,” Asher said, grabbing my hand. “I kind of like that one.”
“I take back every nice thing I’ve ever said about you,” I joked. “Your terrible taste in pop music negates it all.”
Asher laughed. “You’ve never said anything nice about me. But now of course, I’ll have to assume you’ve been thinking nice things. So I’ll let you choose the next song.”
“Thank you, I said, attempting once again to change the station. But before my finger reached the button, the song ended, and the DJ’s voice came on.
“That was Aiden Ray’s latest hit ‘Mock Me, Make Me.’ And I’ve still got one more pair of tickets for his sold-out concert tour to give away to one lucky fan. Be my tenth caller, and you’re going to see Aiden tonight in concert at the Verizon center in Washington, D.C.”
My heart skipped a beat then resumed pumping only now much harder and faster. I turned in my seat to face Asher. “I want to go.”
“Go? Go where?”
“To Washington D.C.—to the concert. Tonight.”
His face screwed up in a comical scowl. “What? That’s at least an hour and a half east of here. We’d barely make it by show time. And we don’t have tickets. Besides, I thought you hated the guy.”
“I... changed my mind. I need to see him.”
Asher blew out a long breath, tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. “Ooookay.” He entered the address of the concert venue into his GPS. “What are you planning to do about tickets? Get ’em from a scalper? I hope you really are rich, or that’s not happening. I didn’t bring that much cash.”
“Let me worry about getting us in—you just get us there.”
“It’s a deal,” he said and took the exit toward the city.
* * *
We arrived at the Verizon Center about a half hour before the show was scheduled to start. The two closest parking garages we passed had their FULL placards out.
“I have an idea,” I said. “Let me out here—I’ll see if I can find some tickets, and you can find a place to park. Just come back and meet me out front.”
As I climbed out at the curb Asher called, “Hey wait—what’s your cell number?”
I told him, and he punched it into his phone so he could call me and make sure we found each other again after he parked.
Oh—my phone. It had come from Audun. I shouldn’t be using it anymore. I probably shouldn’t even have it on me. No doubt Audun could use it to track me down, which he’d surely do when he found out I’d skipped town without doing the job he’d assigned me. Maybe he already knew. That thought scared me—for myself, but more so for Asher. I definitely didn’t want him calling this number. That would tie him to me and put him on Audun’s radar. I had to destroy this phone—now.
It was easy enough to do. I went to the curb and tossed it into the street and waited approximately five minutes. At least four cars rolled directly over it, leaving the phone in pieces strewn across the pavement.
Was it enough? Now that I thought about it, it might be wisest to separate from Asher now. I’d have to leave him eventually. This was probably the perfect time and place for it, before we got any more involved.
Except... he’d worry about me. If I disappeared, he’d be sure I’d been kidnapped and go to the police. He’d search for me himself and feel guilty he’d left me alone. He’d be convinced that stupid girl who’d broken up with him and told him he wasn’t hero material was right. No. I couldn’t do that to him. Audun wasn’t aware of Asher’s existence, and for now, we were both safe.
I headed toward the entrance of the arena, not bothering with the scalpers waving tickets in my face. My plan was to find Aiden, do what I’d come to do, and get out of here. I wouldn’t need a ticket—scalped or otherwise—for that. He’d be waiting in the green room backstage. Having grown up the daughter of an entertainment attorney, I’d been to my share of concerts and had my share of backstage access. I’d never been to this particular arena, but the setup at these places was usually pretty similar.
Getting past the ticket-taker was easy—a bit of Sway while I pretended to dig around in my purse for a lost ticket, and he waved me through. Then I made my way to the VIP area. The corridor to get there, was of course, roped off.
“Hey—hey there—you. You can’t go in there.” A beefy bodyguard moved toward me as I ducked under the rope.
“It’s okay,” I called back to him. “I’m with Aiden.”
Naturally, the guy chased me down. More Sway. And to the green room I went. Finding it, I encountered a couple more bodyguards, dispatched them, and went inside.
Aiden was alone in the room, scarfing down corn chips by the fistful. His eyes flew open at the sight of me.
“Pre-show energy?” I asked in a flirty tone. I was still wearing my commercial shoot wardrobe and makeup from this morning, so maybe I didn’t look too different from the girls who no doubt showed up backstage at his shows. Of course, if his tastes ran to fourteen year olds, I was about five years too old for him.
He stood up and smiled. “Oh yeah. Carb-loading. Who are you? Did Raul send you back?”
I smiled and nodded as the singer moved toward me wearing a lusty, expectant expression. So... a girl—or girls—coming back to the green room before the show wasn’t unheard of. I wondered who Raul was. An assistant I guessed. Or a pimp.
He took my hand and led me toward a leather couch. “Why don’t you come over here? Wow, you’re pretty. Are you a model?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly. I’m also your worst nightmare.
I needed skin-to-skin contact for my glamour
to work on him, so I allowed Aiden to keep holding my hand. That quickly turned into rubbing my arm then my shoulder and neck. I’d need to work fast if I wanted to avoid a full-body Swedish massage from this handsy little creep.
“Aiden... how do you remember all those words to all your songs?” I cooed.
He gave me a tolerant I’m-just-humoring-you-to-get-in-your-pants smile. “It’s not so hard. I rehearse a lot, and I wrote some of them. Now I have a question for you... what have you got on under that dress?” His hand on my leg slid upward.
I gave him a tolerant I’m-just-humoring-you-to-get-in-your-brain smile as I gripped his wrist, stopping him. “You’ll never know.” And now I turned up my glamour full-steam. “And you’ll never be able to remember your lyrics either—ever again—to any of your songs, old or new. Every time you get up on stage or in the recording studio, your mind will go blank.”
“Wh... what?” His eyes were glazed, his forehead knitted into worry lines.
“Here’s what you will remember. Every girl you’ve taken advantage of. Every woman you’ve forced yourself on when she’d had too much to drink or after she said ‘no.’ Remember Crystal in New York City? Yeah. That’s right. I know about her. I bet you thought you were going to get away with that one when you wrote a big check to the Maggios. Wrong. It’s going to haunt you day and night until you turn yourself in and get some counseling. You’ll be lucky if you can even look at a woman without being overwhelmed with guilt for what a scumbag you’ve been.”
Plucking his dead-weight arm off my shoulder and dropping it to the couch cushion, I stood and faced him. “Okay, we’re all done here.” Then I nearly skipped toward the door, feeling a hundred pounds lighter. Before leaving, I looked back over my shoulder for a parting shot. “Have a great show tonight.”
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I headed for the arena’s Exit signs. It was almost too bad we wouldn’t be hanging around for the show—it was sure to be entertaining. But that wouldn’t be smart. After leaving the building, I had another moment of indecision. Asher wasn’t here yet. I could still walk away. I probably should walk away.
