I shook my head. “We’re both on your side, sister. I’m just trying to show you that you have options. I’m trying to convince you to look past the gruesome tales you’ve been told about the English world and enjoy your time here. Live a little. And when it’s time to go back, if you want to stay instead… I’m here for you. Okay? You have a choice.”
“I know,” Sarah replied, avoiding my gaze again. “I just think you’re trying to tell me what to choose.”
“I’m not sure you fully understand what you could have here.”
“And I’m not sure I see our village—our way of life—as the burden you clearly do.”
I snorted. “That’s because you’ve lived your whole life around people who would never tell you otherwise. Why do you think our Father banned Rumspringa? Why do you think you had to come here under the cover of night, just to claim a right that should have always been yours?”
“Because you never came home,” Sarah snapped, and suddenly it was like my Toyota’s A/C had kicked up on high. “And that changed a lot for us, Hannah. That changed everything.”
My knuckles strained around the steering wheel. I felt like they might burst through my skin at any moment with how hard I was clenching. “Why are you defending the man who has kept me from you for the past two years? Who has, I’m sure, erased all evidence of my very existence from your lives?”
“Because you knew the consequences when you left, sister,” Sarah said to me in Dutch. She was practically spitting the words. “Why are you pushing so hard?”
“Because I care about you!” I screamed, making even Beth shrink back against her seat. “I care about you more than he ever will!”
I had been trying so hard not to give in to the rage building inside me. I thought I could get through this conversation without yelling, without fighting, without losing my cool. I’d been bottling these feelings up inside myself for years, and the force with which they now came spilling out made my vision blur.
Violently, I pulled the car up onto the shoulder of the road and threw it into park, slamming my head against the steering wheel. Pain bloomed in my chest. My throat was tight. Every cell in my body was screaming on a frequency nobody else could hear. I felt so alone in my fury, so isolated—the only one of us who knew the truth about our “simple lives.” I carried that burden for all three of us, and it was becoming too much to bear.
“My fault,” I murmured to myself. “It’s my fault.”
And it was. This separation from my sisters—it was self-imposed. Nothing was keeping me from telling them the truth. Nothing but myself and my fear of what would happen if I said it out loud. The last person I’d tried to tell had insisted I was mistaken. Lying. Making things up. These were just the imaginings of a teenage girl. Young Hannah Miller, stirring up trouble.
“Sister?” Beth said in such a quiet voice it broke my heart. Still leaning against the wheel I gave a little shake of my head. No. I needed a moment. I needed to breathe.
Both Sarah and Beth remained silent, giving me the space I needed. My little car felt stifling, but my legs were shaking too badly for me to get up and get out. I rolled the windows down instead, letting in some fresh air. Well, fresh was a strong word for it. It smelled mostly like asphalt and car exhaust.
But it was something. Enough to fill my lungs and remind me that I wasn’t back there in the village. The village smelled like grass and hay, firewood and animals. The air was clear and the sky was too, the stars not occluded by the city’s ambient light. When I glanced up through my windshield, I could see the difference. That brought me back into the moment, back into my car, where I’d allowed an argument with Sarah to get out of hand.
Of course she blamed me for Father’s cruelty. To her, it must have seemed like common sense. I’d run off and never come back. Mother had surely mourned me. Father had obviously imposed greater restrictions as a result. Certainly, my leaving was only an excuse for that, but the truth was that when I’d abandoned the Amish life, I’d abandoned my sisters too.
They had a right to be angry. In fact, I was a little surprised that it hadn’t come up sooner.
Minutes ticked by. Maybe ten of them before I could sit up again and not feel like I might faint, or my head would explode. From behind me, I felt Sarah’s hand brush my shoulder. My nerves were still fried and part of me wanted to shrug her off, until she said, “I’m sorry, Hannah. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I met her eyes in the rearview mirror. They were so earnest. So pleading. So devoid of the fire I’d seen in them a moment ago. My stomach dropped. I knew she was genuinely sorry, but I also knew part of it was because she’d been raised to kowtow to whoever was angriest—to apologize first, just as long as it would make everyone else happy.
Folding my lips, I reached up and put my hand over hers. I still couldn’t tell her everything. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But there was something I could tell Sarah that she so desperately needed to hear.
“It’s not you,” I whispered, my gaze never faltering. I didn’t even blink. I just stared into her eyes, making sure she knew. “It was never you.”
And then, before she could answer, I took my car out of park and pulled back onto the road that would take us home.
8
Ash
It was well past midnight, and I was lying awake in bed, alone. This was not a sensation I was used to. Usually I’d have a woman or two at my side, and we’d either be deep in the throes of passion, or have passed out just after.
Not tonight, though. Tonight, after everything that happened, I’d come back to my apartment after leaving Hannah without so much as a kiss on the cheek. She was still pissed. I could tell. Even if she wouldn’t say it out loud.
But somehow, that just made her more beautiful.
I rolled onto my back with a sigh, giving the ceiling a hard stare. I was exhausted. Hannah had given me a run for my money back in the funhouse, and the spat with Tanya afterward had drained me too, just not in the same way. You’d think being mentally depleted would make it easier for my brain to shut down, but all I could see when I closed my eyes was the look of utter disappointment on Hannah’s face. Her cold fury stole my ability to doze off, and some time ago I’d realized it wasn’t sheep I was counting, but sins I’d committed against her.
Groping my nightstand in the dark, I found my phone and turned it on, squinting against the oppressive brightness of the screen. I’d called Tanya as soon as I left the fairgrounds, hoping to apologize in earnest, and she hadn’t returned that call. But she had sent a text, apparently. There was one word in the message.
Asshole.
I frowned, staring at it. Well… she wasn’t wrong.
But that meant she was okay, right? At least, in the physical sense. She was home safe. And though that gave me some peace of mind, I knew my checking up on her didn’t absolve me of what I’d done.
I’d been selfish. Thoughtless. And I was still being those things, because although I was relieved to hear from her, Tanya wasn’t the one I’d hoped would text me tonight. I had hoped it would be Hannah.
“Why?” I muttered out loud as I opened and reread a few of the texts Hannah had sent me before this whole debacle had gone down. “Why can’t I get you out of my head?”
There was nothing but silence to answer me.
I wasn’t heartless. It’s not that I didn’t care about the women that I slept with. I just… didn’t get attached. I didn’t see any reason to. They were expecting certain behavior from me, and I was looking for a night of validation from them. It was a symbiotic relationship. I cared about them and their well-being. I cared whether or not they had a good time. When I saw them on the street days or weeks later, we’d smile at each other, maybe say “hello.” There were no hard feelings, until Hannah came along. No angry exes until tonight.
Which reminded me that, although I’d tried to get in touch with Tanya to ensure she’d gotten home safe, I’d never extended the same courtesy to Hannah. N
o, my dumb ass had just been lying here mooning over her this whole time instead of doing something productive. Something the Ash Brody I was before I met her would’ve done. Fuck’s sakes, she had me all tangled up, and I barely knew a thing about her.
Replying to Hannah’s last text, I asked her, You make it home okay, love? Part of me felt bad about calling her that still, after saying it reflexively to Tanya in front of her, proving that it wasn’t exactly meaningful. Not in the way most women wanted to hear it. But it was intimate, sort of. Better than “babe” or “darlin’,” anyway.
And it still meant something different when I said it to Hannah than to anyone else. Even if she didn’t know it. Even if I couldn’t quite quantify what the difference was.
My text was intentionally simple and to the point. That was the kind of thing Ash Brody would do. That was the considerate, yet not overly protective behavior women loved. It wasn’t a soliloquy. It wasn’t a demand for an update. It was a courtesy, one that let us both keep our distance.
It took several minutes for Hannah to respond, and all the while I stared at the screen, occasionally closing my messages and then reopening them to make sure I didn’t just need to refresh. It was pathetic, but at least I was doing it in private. All my other fuck-ups so far had been very public, and I wanted to hold on to whatever scrap of dignity I had left.
So much for keeping my distance.
Just as I was about to give up—and by that, I mean turn up the volume on my system notifications and sleep with the phone in the damn bed, in case she changed her mind—Hannah texted back. She said, Yeah. Beth and Sarah said they had a good time. I only wished Hannah could say the same for herself.
I was sure she’d at least enjoyed some of it—namely the part that came after we entered the funhouse and before Tanya showed up. She’d made all the right noises, whimpered all the right curses, for me to think she’d fallen in love with my cock and tongue. I licked my lips, eager to see if there was some remnant of her flavor on my mouth. No dice. Now that was a damn shame.
The memory of her pussy on my face was all I had left of our encounter. It wasn’t like the panties I’d stolen that first night, the ones I’d taken home with me without Hannah’s knowledge. Those were a memento I intended to keep, a tangible reminder of how she’d looked in them just before I’d ripped them off. Now I felt bereft, denied a token of what had thus far been some of the most exciting sex of my life. I wasn’t sure exactly what I expected, or what I wanted from her to keep with me, but it was driving me nuts not having it.
I texted her again. Sorry things didn’t end better with us. Awkward, right? I wanted to bash myself in the face with my own phone. Fuck, why was I being such an idiot? I’d reduced my misstep to what practically amounted to a meme.
But what was I supposed to say? What would mend the damage I’d done? There was no erasing it. And I’d never found myself in this kind of situation with a woman before.
She replied almost instantly. It’s cool. And then in a separate message, almost like it was an afterthought: We’re just keeping things light. Right?
To my surprise, I wasn’t really sure how to answer.
I didn’t want to marry the girl or anything, but damn, did I miss her. I couldn’t deny how she was stuck running through my brain at what seemed like all hours of the night and day. I couldn’t say that I didn’t feel something with her, some spark, that kept me coming back for more. She was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and garnished with a dash of intrigue. And yet she was effortless, too. She hardly asked me for anything beyond our initial agreement.
And that… kinda made me feel bad, in a way.
It was like she knew she couldn’t depend on me, like she’d written me off as some careless player from the start. In her eyes, I wasn’t worth the effort of getting to know. She made no demands of me, other than me and my brothers keeping an eye on her sisters. I saw now that there just might be a more serious reason for that then I initially suspected, but still, she wouldn’t fill me in. I was barely more than a tool to her. And tonight, I’d sure as hell acted like one.
Fuck. This wasn’t keeping things light and simple. This wasn’t the way I did things at all. Rubbing my face with my free hand, I finally responded to Hannah. Sounds good.
It was lame. Forced. Definitely not my most shining moment in the land of text messages. But she replied with a smiley face all the same, and then a question that took me by surprise. What are you wearing?
I laughed. Nothing much.
Good, came her reply. Me either. Wanna see?
Dear God, did I ever.
The second my phone buzzed again, I tapped the screen, anticipating a picture of Hannah’s tits, or maybe that tight pussy I could still feel clenched around my cock, if I thought about it hard enough. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a picture message. It was a call—and not from Hannah.
Reid’s gruff voice greeted me instead, and I tried not to groan in frustration. “Damn, that was quick. Were you sittin’ by the phone, bro?”
“Goddammit, Reid,” I hissed, “it’s almost one in the morning. What the hell do you want?”
“What?” Reid said in a tone I was sure he’d designed solely to annoy me. “Can’t your little brother give you a call just to check in? Does everything have to be so transactional with you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes.” It wasn’t true, but I was aching to see what Hannah had certainly sent me by now. I was sure if I took too long to answer, she’d read something into it. The last thing I needed now was to re-offend her. “So, what do you want?”
“Actually, I wanted to know if you had any plans for the cabin,” he said, drawing every word out. Christ, it was like he knew I was in a hurry to get off the phone. “I was thinking maybe I could take Sarah out there. You know… get her away from the hustle and bustle of the city for a while.”
“That cabin’s only got one bedroom, Reid,” I said, but I was sure he knew. “You’re gonna scare the girl half to death that way. It’s not a good idea…”
Wasn’t it, though? The thought occurred to me suddenly—Sarah had gone through something monumentally unpleasant tonight, and taking her somewhere out of the way might actually work to his benefit—she might be more interested in him if she wasn’t constantly bombarded with all things English… including drunk assholes with grabby hands. I leaned back against my pillow. Well, I’ll be damned. Reid might just have had a good idea.
He didn’t need to know that, though.
“If she doesn’t like the idea, she’ll tell me and we won’t go,” he was saying, an edge to his voice. “Look, do you have plans for it or not?”
“Hmm. I dunno, man. Hang on. Let me check my schedule.” And I hit the mute button on my phone and checked my text messages, content to let Reid stew for a while.
Nope. Nothing yet. Hannah was probably trying to get the lighting and angle right. Christ, it wasn’t like it was going up on Instagram. But it did make me smile to think she might care what I thought of her, even if the truth was that I thought she was stunning no matter the light.
When I picked up again, I caught the tail end of what seemed like a pretty epic rant on Reid’s part. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d sounded so pissed. “…for fuck’s sakes, all I wanted was a goddamn straight answer, but of course your dainty mouth can’t do anything straight…”
“What was that?” I asked him. ““It’s hard to understand you, what with your busted jaw. I was just about to say looks like my plans for it are clear, but if you had something to add to that…”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Reid replied, and I grinned.
“Kind of hard not to be, when I know how much it pisses you off,” I told him.
“Whatever, man. If it’s all clear with you, then I’m gonna ask her if she wants to go up. I’ll come by tomorrow or the next day to grab the keys from you.”
“Sounds good. But hey, if you make a mess, you clean it up. Don’t just leave it for me to find the next time I b
ring a girl up there.” I wondered if Hannah liked luxury cabins in the woods. The one our grandfather had left me was a beauty, and the thought of taking her in front of the fireplace was starting to turn me on.
Reid chuckled darkly. “Well, I hadn’t thought much about it, but yeah… I guess that would be a hell of a way to piss you off, wouldn’t it? Anyway, I’m getting off the phone now. My jaw really is fuckin’ killing me.”
“I meant to ask…” I began. “Beth said it was some guy got a little too excited to see a pretty redhead. That how it went down?”
“Yeah,” Reid said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced. “I dunno, man. There were a lot of people acting like douchebags tonight. Alcohol just does that to some people.”
“And yet you manage it sober,” I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. There was no real reason for me to believe anything other than what Reid and Beth said was true. Still, it nagged at me. Something just seemed… off.
“Fuck you, Ash,” he said. A snappy comeback if there ever was one.
I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, I gotta go. Have a good one.”
“You too,” Reid replied. It kind of bothered me that he managed to seem sincere about it.
I opened my text messages again, ready to let Hannah know about Reid’s plans for Sarah, when her picture message finally came through. I drew my fist to my mouth and bit into it. Fuck, the way she was grabbing her tits…
Well, I’d wanted a memento, hadn’t I? And I’d finally gotten one.
My dick desperately wanted me to text her something sexy in return, to cultivate the rapport we’d returned to so easily after our fight, but Reid’s words were ringing in my mind. I knew there was no way I could really enjoy this unless I got rid of them. Reluctantly, I composed a much longer message than I’d intended.
You’re fucking sexy, love. But before we get into it… Reid called. He wants to take Sarah up to my cabin in the woods. Thought it might be a good idea. Get her somewhere she feels more comfortable. What do you think?
LUST: A Bad Boy and Amish Girl Romance (The Brody Bunch Book 2) Page 8
