ASHER (The Beckett Boys, Book Three)

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ASHER (The Beckett Boys, Book Three) Page 7

by Olivia Chase


  I told Mom where I was staying, until I figured out what I wanted to do or when I was ready to come home, and she said she understood. She told me when Dad was out of the house so I could swing by and get belongings and toiletries, plus my car keys.

  Asher was beside me the whole time.

  We’ve settled into a regular routine. It’s…cozy. A girl could get used to sleeping beside him, waking up in his arms, passionate sex with orgasm after orgasm. The man loves to go down on me.

  The more time I spend with him, the more I crave him. It’s become my goal to make him smile and laugh. To see the spark in his eyes as he looks at me. I’m addicted to Asher Bennett, no denying it. Addicted and falling for him big-time.

  How does he feel about me? I just don’t know. We haven’t discussed anything romantic, haven’t clarified our relationship at all.

  But after what happened with my dad, I’m doubly determined to go to school in January. I just gotta get through the rest of fall and finish this year off, and then I’ll be good to go. I’m even gonna work out where I can stay during summer break so I don’t have to move back home.

  I’m done with that shit.

  I reach into my bag and dig out my work uniform. Since we’re moving into colder months, we’re allowed to wear tight black pants instead of the tiny shorts. So I slip mine on and put on my top.

  Asher comes up behind me and cups the undersides of my breasts. Squeezes gently. “Fuck, kitten. This shirt makes your tits look insanely hot.”

  I close my eyes and lean back against him, savoring the feel of his hands on me. “I’ll wear it every day if you keep doing that.”

  His growl and the small nip at my ear tells me he’s getting turned on. I press my ass against his crotch and wiggle a little, and he grips my waist. “You’re playing with fire. Keep doing that, and you’ll be late for work.”

  God, I’d love to be. I’d love to cut work and stay in bed with Asher, who doesn’t have to be at Outlaws until later this evening. But I need all the money I can save up, now more than ever.

  I spin around and give him a hot kiss. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

  He slides his hands down to my ass, then presses openmouthed kisses to my throat. Licks the flesh there. My skin comes alive under his ministrations. “Mmmmm.” He edges away, his eyes heavy-lidded. “You’d better go before I start undressing you.”

  I drive to work, then start my shift. Customers are the same as they always are. Some are cool, and some are jerks. But the day goes fast. I take my break, sagging against the brick wall outside, drawing in the cool October air.

  Halloween is coming soon. Asher told me some of his friends are having a party…and that he wants me to come with him. I close my eyes for a moment and smile. If we are dating, this might make me his longest-running whatever the hell we are. I don’t remember any previous girls lasting more than a month.

  And we’re getting closer with each passing day.

  I check the time on my phone then head back in to finish my shift. My feet are throbbing by the time I’m ready to call it a day. I finish up and tell everyone bye, then head to my car.

  And stop.

  My dad is leaning against it, hands shoved into his jeans, a crease across his brow. He looks tired. Sad. His eyes are wary as he looks at me.

  I sigh. I don’t want to deal with this right now, but I guess I’ve been running from it long enough. I grab my keys from my purse.

  “Hey,” he says in his low voice.

  “Hi.” My own voice is flat in response. I can’t help but remember what happened the last time I saw him. The hateful things he said to me and Mom. It was messed up, and I won’t be forgetting it anytime soon.

  “Whitney, I’m sorry.” Dad sucks in a slow breath and exhales hard. “I…” He looks away, staring off into the distance. “I hit rock bottom that night. And I’m ashamed of myself. I drank so much, I don’t remember everything I said to you and your mom.”

  I want to snark at him and say I’m not surprised, but I’m also afraid to start an argument. “I don’t want to do this here,” I tell him instead.

  “I’m not trying to force you to talk. I just wanted you to know…I’m going a way for a little bit.”

  My heart heaves. “You and Mom are splitting up?” I don’t know how I feel about that, to be honest.

  “No, I’m going to a rehab center.” He scrubs the back of his neck and looks at me. “I messed up big-time. I’ve got a problem, and I’m the only one who can fix it. You guys deserve better than this. And once I get out, I’ll find a new job. Start all over again. Your mom and I talked for a long time, and she’s glad I’m doing this.” He sighs again, a weary sound, and his eyes ache with sadness. “I treated you both so wrongly. Not just that night, but other times. And I’m so sorry.” He’s stiff as he steps away from my car toward me.

  I bite my lower lip, emotion surging through me. “You hurt me. You were so cruel.” My voice breaks on the last word.

  “God, I’m so sorry for everything,” Dad says, wrapping me in his arms.

  I can’t remember the last time my dad hugged me. He’s not a physically affectionate man. To have him doing so right now, to hear him sniffling with his own unshed tears, breaks my heart, and I hug him back.

  We stay like that for several long moments, then pull away.

  “It’ll be good for you to do this,” I tell him. “They can help you.”

  “I know. I can’t do this on my own. I accept that.” Dad’s face looks resolute, his chin tilted up as he stares at the sky. “I’m ready to fix myself. Things can’t keep going this way, for any of us.” He peers back down to me and moves away. “I’ll be gone for a month, and when I get back, there will be more outpatient work for me to do. But this will get me started on the right path.” He pauses. “I may not remember everything I said, but your mom told me the worst of it. And just so you know—I don’t think you’re a nag. You’re a good person, and I love you.” These last words are whispered, his voice strained with emotion.

  I nod, tears sliding down my cheeks. I sniffle and wipe them away.

  Dad smiles and heads to his car, driving off. I watch him go and stand there for another minute, then get in my own car. Time to collect my stuff from Asher’s place and get back to my house.

  Asher

  The next couple of weeks fly by in a flutter of busyness. Jax and Brooklyn spend all their spare time planning their wedding, which will be the week before Christmas. Smith and Aubrey continue working on renovating Outlaws, hiring more employees and expanding the menu. Word has gotten out about the change in our place, and people are flocking to the bar.

  Instead of the parking lot being filled with mostly motorcycles or beat-up rides, there are family cars there now, sports cars. Fucking SUVs.

  It’s insane. Dad’s probably rolling over in his grave at the drastic difference. Then again, as Smith has said before, he’s more likely happy that the bar is still alive and thriving instead of barely making it every month.

  Also, Jax and Smith aren’t on me anymore about quitting school. In fact, they both are asking me to carry more of the load at the bar. Smith’s even cracked a few jokes with me. The tension that has been between us for weeks has faded away.

  It’s good to be back with my brothers. Life is starting to feel stable, comfortable, normal.

  When I’m not working my ass off, I’m with Whitney. She moved back into her home after her dad left for rehab. I’m glad she’s doing okay—while I may not be crazy about the rehab concept, having seen enough people in my life try it and fail, it makes her family feel better about his earnestness in changing.

  I key the door to Outlaws and flick on the lights. Time to get the show rolling—it’s Halloween week, and Rock Bridge takes the holiday seriously with weeklong celebrating. Every bar and restaurant in the area is gonna have good profit.

  As long as we do better than Foley’s, I’m good. Old rivalries die hard. I keep trying to sweet-talk Whitney into
giving me company secrets or info, but she just rolls her eyes and slugs me.

  I’m checking inventory when I hear Smith’s footsteps thudding down the stairs. He opens the door that leads from the bar to the hallway of his upstairs apartment, then comes inside, wearing a black T-shirt and faded jeans.

  “’Sup, brother?” I say, opening the register to count the money.

  “My dick.” Smith smirks and walks back to the office.

  “I can totally tell what Aubrey sees in you. You’re charming,” I say to his back, laughing as his middle finger shoots up over his shoulder at me without him turning to look at me. I return my attention to the register.

  A few minutes later, Jax strolls in. “Well, look who’s running on time and being responsible.”

  I ignore him, count the change, and compare it to last night’s ending numbers to ensure we’re starting with the right amount. When I finish, I clang the register shut and roll my eyes at him. “Maybe if you’d stop humping your fiancée right before coming to work, you could be here on time too.”

  Jax smirks. “But if I got here on time, I wouldn’t be giving Brooklyn the extra attention she needs,” he says. “Like, this one thing I do with my tongue—“

  “Okay, that’s enough.” I pick up a dishrag and toss it at his face.

  He laughs and catches it before it falls to the ground. “You used to love tales of my sexual prowess. Lightweight.”

  A knock on the door draws both of our attention. We turn to see it crack open, and a woman in her mid-forties peeks her head in, then steps inside. She has on a pair of old jeans and a faded Metallica T-shirt, her long hair pulled back into a ponytail.

  When she sees us, she stops in place, presses a hand to her mouth. Her eyes are wide and fixed on us.

  “Uh, we’re not open yet,” I tell her, uncomfortable with her blatant staring. “Come back in an hour.” I start to tell Jax he should have locked the door behind us when she clears her throat and wipes at tears in her eyes.

  “Oh my God, it’s really you. Jax. Asher, oh God…you’re so big.” She chokes on her words and moves toward us.

  Uneasiness makes my chest tight, my lungs squeezing to the size of grapes. I’m getting an uncomfortable feeling I know who she is.

  “Who are you?” Jax asks in his usual blunt matter.

  “Boys, I’m…” She swallows. “I’m your mom.”

  Jax and I stand there in shocked silence, staring at her. I can’t move, can’t speak.

  It is her. My mom.

  In the flesh.

  She isn’t dead. She’s alive and here in Outlaws and as I look closer to her, I can see the resemblance to me, to my brothers. The same eye shape, the shape of our chin, the dirty blond hair.

  We look like her.

  Like our fucking mother.

  “Smith!” Jax bellows, not tearing his gaze away from the woman claiming to be our mom. “You need to get your ass out here now.”

  He must hear the urgency in Jax’s voice, because he doesn’t just shoot back a smart-assed reply. He emerges from the office quickly and eyes me and Jax, and when his gaze lands on the woman, he pauses, gasps, walks over to her. Clutches her shoulders and peers down at her face for several painfully long seconds.

  “Holy shit. It can’t be,” he breathes.

  She nods and a sob bursts from her chest, and Smith draws her into a tight hug. She folds her arms around him. “My babies. I missed you so much. Oh God, I missed you.”

  Jax walks over to her side, and she gives him a tearful hug as he wraps his arms around her.

  I can’t seem to move yet. Can’t wrap my head around what’s happening. My brain is a maelstrom, and I feel like I’ve been tossed into the deep end of the pool with a concrete block tied to my back.

  Mom talks with Smith and Jax for a couple of minutes, their voices a confused cacophony. They’re asking her a million questions—where she was, what happened, why she’s here now.

  Jax goes behind the bar and pours four beers, then tugs the seats down at one table. “I think we need a drink. You have a lot to explain, Mom.”

  The excitement of the moment fades away for them too, and I’m sure the serious questions that are hammering through my head are now in theirs.

  Why she was gone for twenty years without one word. Where she was.

  My brothers and my mom sit down. She looks over at me, her eyes wary; clearly she can sense my negative feelings.

  “I’ll explain it all to you,” she says. “I know you’re probably upset and confused and angry.”

  “You have no idea how I feel,” I finally manage to say.

  She nods, not taking offense at my sharp tone. “That’s fair. It’s okay that you’re angry. And if you decide you don’t want to see me again after this, I’ll understand. I can’t expect anything from you, despite what I want. But I’d just like the opportunity to tell you what happened to me.”

  I make myself take the seat opposite of her, both drawn to and repulsed by her at the same time. I ignore the beer on the table in front of me. Jax and Smith take swallows of theirs; Mom doesn’t drink her beer, either. She crosses her hands on the table and fiddles with her fingers.

  “Twenty years ago…” She clears her throat, and I can see a telltale sheen in her eyes. “God, I’ve repeated this in my head a million times. The things I’d say when I finally saw you boys. And now I’m just so overwhelmed.” She presses a hand to her chest and draws in several deep breaths. Mom turns her gaze to the table and says in halting words, “I don’t know what your father told you, but from what I understand, he said that I left you guys. I asked him to say that because…I was ashamed of what actually happened.”

  “Go on,” Smith urges. He takes a gulp of beer.

  “We were so poor back in those days—most of the time we lived on ramen noodles and whatever food stamps would buy us. I was always worried we would end up on the street—but perhaps I should’ve worried more about where I actually did end up.” Mom’s tired laugh holds no mirth. “One day, about a year after you were born, Asher, I got an opportunity to make a lot of money. We were so desperate, and I thought it wouldn’t be so bad—I just had to drive a getaway car. A lot of money for a couple of hours’ work.” She shrugs. “I was a fool. The people I was with robbed a bank, but they screwed up and someone got shot.”

  “They murdered someone?” I ask, feeling blood rise to my face.

  “No, it was an accident and the person lived,” she says, shaking her head. “But it easily could have been murder. As it was, we all got arrested and charged, prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

  Her words sit heavy on me. Fuck. Out of everything she could have said, Mom being in jail was the last thing I would have expected.

  “And Dad?” Smith says. “Did he give you the okay to help rob a fucking bank?”

  “No,” she says, shaking her head violently side to side. “He never wanted me involved in any rough stuff. And I never was up until that point, but I thought that if I could just get this money, maybe we would have a little breathing room…it was so wrong, and so stupid of me.”

  “Wow, that’s some crazy shit,” Jax murmurs, his beer forgotten.

  “I asked your father to not tell you what really happened to me. But we wrote each other every week, and he kept me up to date on everything you were all doing. Those stories kept me going even when I thought I couldn’t go on anymore.”

  Smith shakes his head. “It doesn’t make sense, though. The whole town should know what really happened. You going away for robbing a bank would be big news around these parts.”

  “It didn’t happen here, baby.” She smiles sadly. “I did the job out of state. If you want to go and check the newspapers from that year, you should check the ones in New Hampshire.”

  “And the funeral?” I ask, my heart pounding.

  “I don’t know,” she says. “I never asked for details like that.”

  “It was a fake,” Smith says, his voice flat. �
��Dad held a small service, acted like she wanted to be cremated. It was all a lie.”

  “I wanted to protect you from all of this,” she says, “but I know that it was wrong. All of it. And I’m sorry, please, you have to believe me.” Her voice breaks yet again. “All I ever thought about was you three.”

  “That’s not the same as you being there to raise us,” I say coldly. “And letting us think you were dead? That’s shitty of you, and Dad.” I can’t believe he would do that. This woman shows up and she’s our long-lost mom, and now she’s telling me things about my dad that sullies his memory.

  Anger fills my chest again, replacing the bewilderment and shock.

  Smith’s jaw tightens. “Asher’s right. Why would you trick us that way? And why are you here now?”

  Mom’s mouth turns down. “I don’t fault you for being angry. But I wasn’t trying to trick you. I was humiliated and I knew I’d be away for a very long time. I thought it would be worse for the three of you to know I was rotting in a cell all these years. And then when your dad died, I wasn’t up for parole yet and I had to wait. I was just released last week. I came straight here to find you.” She sighs and looks down at the table, her frail shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry. I don’t blame you if you want to kick me out and never see me again. If I could go back and redo everything, I would. Spending the last five years only getting little pieces of information about you guys was killing me. And living all that time without your father, without you…” A wet sob bursts from her, and she claps a hand over her mouth.

  Jax’s eyes fill with concern. “Fuck, you can see how this kinda pulls the rug out from under us, right? What is it you want now?”

  “I just…” She sniffs and attempts to calm her ragged breathing. I can’t help but study her, try to see if I can remember anything. But I’ve got nothing. I was so young when she left that the woman before me is a stranger. A stranger with my features. “I want to know you guys. I want some kind of relationship, anything you’re comfortable with. I’ve been set up with an apartment, and I got a job. I’m not here to ask for any money or for anything other than your time. If you want to give it to me.”

 

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