But Tanya didn’t take me up on my exit strategy. She said, “It was more than that. I just… I thought we were working toward something. Something bigger. You know?”
I had tried so many times to gently explain to Tanya that there would never be “something bigger” between her and me. I liked her as a person, and I liked her as a sexual partner, but she wanted a commitment from me that I just couldn’t make. There was nothing wrong with her. She was a fine woman, when she wasn’t out of her mind with jealousy. It was me. It was always me. But no matter what I said or how many tears she cried, we always ended up back in the same position. We were at an impasse. It was time to be blunt.
“I don’t know why you thought that,” I said, my tone firm but far from cruel. “Seriously, how many times have we been over this? You want something I can’t give you. You want a relationship. You want marriage.”
“I don’t! I mean, not right now…”
“Right, but down the line. You’re looking for a partner, Tanya. Someone you can settle down with. And that ain’t me. It’s never been me.”
“I don’t get it, Ash. I just… we’re perfect together. Everybody thinks so.”
“Whoever ‘everybody’ is, they’re not me. I’m the one whose opinion matters. And I’m telling you it won’t work. No, it’s… it’s more than that.” I steeled myself for the hornet’s nest I was about to kick. “I don’t even want to try.”
“But you felt it. Didn’t you?” She paused, but I didn’t answer her. There was no point. Tanya would only hear what she wanted to hear. “Don’t lie to me, Ash. I know you did. I know you felt something real with me.”
“Don’t make me do this, Tanya,” I said, weary already. “Please. Don’t make me be the bad guy.” That really was the last thing I wanted to be. I’d tried so hard to avoid being that for most of my adult life. But Tanya… she was going to make me do it. I knew she was. She was going to make me be Ash Brody, the asshole. Well, why not? I’d tried everything else. Exhausted every other avenue. Some people just need a clean, brutal cut in order for them to move on, I guess. Tanya seemed to be one of them.
“Don’t make you be the bad guy?” she echoed. “Don’t make you be the bad guy?! You already are the bad guy, Ash! You left me hanging for weeks. Forgot all about me, like… like I was some toy you were done playing with, so that made it okay for you to just drop me. Discard me. Like trash! And then you invite me out, tell me you’re going to show me something really special, and I get there and you’re… you’re…” Her voice rose to a fevered pitch. “I find you fucking that bitch!”
“Her name is not ‘that bitch!’” I snarled back at her, finally losing my temper. This was what she wanted. What she was after. Let her have it, then. Didn’t I always give people what they wanted, even at my own expense? “Her fucking name is Hannah, and the shit you pulled with her is not okay, Tanya! You made a complete ass out of yourself the other night, acting the way you did. You were like a fucking toddler, throwing a tantrum for the whole world to see. God, it was embarrassing. Pitiful. I was ashamed for you, because clearly, shame isn’t something you’ve got a lot of access to these days.” I was shaking, and that can be dangerous on a bike. I did my best to steady myself. “Believe whatever you have to believe about me. Whatever lies you have to tell yourself to make it through this. You wanna believe I led you on? Fine by me. You wanna believe there was something deeper there I just couldn’t see? Who the hell cares! Tell yourself you were too good for me—it’s probably the truth. But you get in one of those moods again, Tanya—you get it into your pretty little head that you can go around trying to assault people ‘cause you’ve had a bad day—you make sure you leave me and mine out of it. Am I fucking clear?”
Silence. Internally, I thanked God. Maybe Tanya was finally starting to get it. Maybe she’d realized poking a bear with a stick wasn’t such a good idea. I could still hear her on the other end of the line, breathing hard. Making little sounds like she was struggling not to cry. I was about to hang up on her when she said, “So… she’s more than just a fuck to you. She means something. Not me.”
At a red light, I closed my eyes. “She needs my help, Tanya. That’s all.” I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince more—her, or me. “In the end… it’s just another relationship of convenience for everyone involved.”
“Your… help?” Tanya asked, and a pit opened in my stomach at the sparkle of hope in her voice. “Help with what, Ash?”
No. I’d already said too much. And it was clear to me now that whatever else came out of my mouth, Tanya would find a way to keep believing we could make it work. I disconnected the call.
You’ve got a long day ahead of you, Bea had said to me. And she was right. Because of course she was.
I needed a shower now more than ever. I needed to scrub the gore of ripping Tanya a new one off my body and my soul. I needed to wash off Hannah’s scent and stop deluding myself into thinking there was anything more than fucking between us. I’d seen firsthand what kind of road false hope led to. I didn’t want to end up like Tanya, trying to lay claim to someone who wasn’t mine. Someone who never was.
I had my keepsakes. Hannah’s panties. Some dirty pictures, some dirty texts. Memories I knew I’d carry with me to my grave. Those would be the things she left behind when this was all over—when her sisters were safe. When my contract was done. They were little pieces of her, and even though I knew it wasn’t enough—not really—I also knew it had to be. ‘Cause it was all I was gonna get.
She really was too good for me. Just like all the others.
But goddamn if that stupid story about the dogs wasn’t stuck in my head. The idea that maybe if I sat with her, if I talked with her, if I showed her who I really was… maybe she’d come around. Maybe she’d like me, the actual me, not the mask I put on whenever I left my apartment. Maybe that was the key to breaking the pattern. Maybe I had to let her in, give her the ability to hurt me, and then hope like hell she didn’t use it. And then, once that was done… once I’d proven there was more to me than just a good fuck… maybe she’d let me in, too.
Fuck, what was I thinking? This girl really had me head over heels.
But I wasn’t done suffering. Oh, no. And a shower would have to wait. Because the moment I made it up the stairs to my apartment, yet another nasty surprise was there waiting for me.
The first thing that tipped me off was the busted lock.
“What the fuck?”
I touched my front door and it swung open, revealing the place where someone had straight-up splintered the doorjamb. Whoever it was had used raw force to get in here. There was no finesse. No subtlety. Just brute strength used to gain access to my home.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I muttered, stepping inside. I kept my guard up. If the dude was still in here…
But all I found were overturned dressers. Slashed couch cushions. Papers scattered across the floor like a deck of cards—fifty-two pickup. Holes in the walls, probably from fists. My fridge had been emptied, tipped right over onto its side. Everything was a mess. Everything had been… desecrated. Violated. No stone left unturned.
I set my helmet down on the kitchen counter and rubbed my face with my hands. This couldn’t be a coincidence. It had to be something involving Hannah and her sisters. She was holding something back from me, something that made it clear the threat they faced was even greater than I’d imagined it could be. No matter what I thought of the idea—no matter how hard I tried to convince myself it was stupid and it wouldn’t work—I knew I needed to try to get through to Hannah. I needed her to open up. To trust me.
But how?
Isolation. When we were alone… Hannah was such a different person. When she wasn’t guarding her sisters with her very life, maybe even literally, she could be so tender with me. So… intimate, on some levels. Reid and Sarah would be gone for the next couple days, which meant Beth was the only one under her watchful eye now. And with a phone call, that co
uld be mitigated. I was sure Wyatt would leap at the chance to get Beth alone.
This time, I didn’t ask Hannah’s permission. I just called Wyatt and made the arrangements. This “contract,” this “job”—it had just become personal.
13
Hannah
Does “empty nest syndrome” apply to getting your sisters the hell out of your apartment? If so, I suppose that would explain the sudden loneliness I felt at their departure—even though I’d been instrumental in arranging it.
Or at least, I had with Sarah. Beth leaving kind of took me by surprise.
Wyatt had called me on my cell phone the previous night, asking to speak to her. After she got off the phone, she told me he wanted to take her on a little getaway—nothing fancy, he’d said, but someplace that meant a lot to him. He thought since Reid and Sarah were getting to know each other a little better, it might make sense for him and Beth to try and do that, too.
Fair enough, I supposed. But I made sure to give Beth pretty much the same speech I’d given Sarah. Do it if you want to, not because he wants you to want to. And then I’d supplied her with a condom from my stash, answered a few of her burning questions, and sent her to bed wondering what the next day might bring.
Now that it was here, I found I had trouble letting my sisters go. It wasn’t because I feared for their safety. It was just…
Well, I’d just found them again. After two years of passing illicit notes between my world and theirs, they’d finally crossed over to be with me. But now they were going off on their own adventures, and as much as that elated me, it saddened me too. I would miss them, even though I knew they’d be back soon. Even though it was my idea to get them hooked up with these brothers.
My God, I hoped I was doing the right thing.
“Here,” I said, handing each of them an old cell phone. They were nothing fancy—prepaid mobiles that only included my contact number. I showed my sisters how to use them. Thankfully, since they were so low-tech—they still flipped open, for Christ’s sakes—there wasn’t much of a learning curve for the girls. “You call me if anything gets weird. Okay? I mean it. I don’t care what time it is or where you are. If Wyatt or Reid make you uncomfortable in any way, call me and I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
Beth smiled up at me. She’d been doing a little exploring with her phone and had found an old game installed on it called Snake. From what I could see, she was still figuring out what the objective could be—as well as its controls. “Thank you, Hannah. But I really don’t think I’ll need to use it.”
Sarah, on the other hand, looked far less convinced. She kept flipping her phone open and closed, as if soothed by the rhythm of its click-clack, click-clack. Her gaze was a little distant, a little muddled. I frowned. She was definitely the sister I was the most worried about.
They both needed to stretch their wings. Abandon the nest. Beth would learn to fly, if she did—I was certain of it. But Sarah? The way she looked right now, she reminded me more of a featherless chick who’d fallen from the nest, vulnerable to any predator who might stumble upon her; utterly defenseless in the face of the big, bad world.
“You’re going to be okay, Sarah,” I told her, looking into her eyes. “And if you’re not…”
“I’ll call you,” she finished, closing the phone one last time. “I know. Thank you.”
I sighed. And I swore to myself that if Reid did anything to hurt her, anything at all, I would end him. No hesitation. I’d find a way. I could be damn resourceful, when it counted.
After the boys picked them up, I sat for a while on my couch, part of me reveling in my sisters’ absence. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have the place to myself. Before they’d left the village, I’d gotten used to living alone. I had no one but myself to rely on, and at first that had been incredibly lonely, but over time it became routine. I hadn’t accounted for what havoc breaking that routine might bring to my life, or to my apartment.
The girls picked up after themselves, of course, and they were always happy to help with whatever needed doing. It was almost like having two live-in maids. But it was also exhausting, explaining every minute detail of my life and the modern world to them. Microwaves were especially an issue. “It heats up food” proved a woefully inadequate description of its function, and I had to stop Sarah from putting aluminum-wrapped leftovers in it.
And yet with all traces of their calamity gone, the apartment felt… empty. The quietude was almost unnerving. I discovered that, for the first time in two years, I really didn’t want to be alone.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through it. I’d accumulated a lot of names and numbers. I had a lot of acquaintances. I wouldn’t really call any of them “friends,” though. That just wasn’t true. The level of trust and intimacy necessary for me to call someone a friend just wasn’t something I extended anymore. Friends were great, sure, but they also required maintenance. Commitment. Sharing. If you couldn’t open up to a friend, they felt slighted. Accused you of keeping them at arm’s length. And that opened up a schism between you, and then you weren’t friends anymore.
I’ve heard people say things like, “It’s better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.” But honestly? I think that’s bullshit. I think it’s harder to know exactly what you’ve lost, to wonder about what could have been if you’d just been… I don’t know. Better, somehow. But if you don’t try, you have no frame of reference. You never gave yourself anything to lose. Maybe sometimes you’ll lie awake at night wondering about what it would be like to have someone you were close to, but at least you can comfort yourself with the fact that you came out of that day carrying exactly the same things you started out with. And sometimes, that can be victory enough.
It doesn’t keep your heart or your bed warm. But it doesn’t make it any colder, either.
And that can be enough, too. Sometimes it has to be.
Acquaintances were safe. They wouldn’t expect too much. The downside, though, is that you can’t really rely on an acquaintance to be there when it counts. And there wasn’t a damn person in my contacts list I wanted to call on for that purpose, anyway.
Except for Ash.
I sighed. Was I coming to rely on him too much? Probably yes. I had him pegged as a player, and it seemed to me that there was no reason I should look for him to cure my loneliness, however sudden and acute the onset was. The only language a guy like that spoke was Ye Olde Booty Call. I wrinkled my nose in frustration.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like fucking Ash. On the contrary—I loved it. But tonight, I needed something else. Companionship. Honest-to-God company. But was I allowed to ask for it? And from him, of all people?
I guessed I wouldn’t know until I tried. I composed a text message and hit send, making sure to keep it casual.
Hey. What’re you up to?
His reply didn’t take long. Not a damn thing. You?
Same. I bit my lip. You wanna come by later tonight? Girls are out. We’d have the place to ourselves.
I knew how that sounded. It was intentional. I had to bait the hook somehow. I knew I was setting myself up, tacitly implying we’d be having sex sometime tonight, but it was better than admitting I wanted to see him just to see him, and then having him balk. I didn’t want to scare him off.
Besides… there was no point in denying how Ash and I got along best. And it wasn’t like I didn’t get something out of the bargain. It served as a reminder that I should use him as much as he used me. The past few days had been pretty stressful, and providing myself with a sexual outlet for that stress wasn’t the worst idea in the world.
Sounds good. Should I bring anything? he asked.
I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. Wine and dinner would be nice.
This time, his reply took a little longer. What, like a date night?? You going soft on me, Miller?
I sank back into the couch. The thing about texting is that it’s hard to tell someone’s tone
from words on a screen. It left so much up to interpretation. I found myself staring at the words, trying to discern whether Ash was being Ash, or if he was seriously disturbed by the idea. If he was just kidding, why hadn’t he included an emoji or something? A winking face? Ugh, I felt so stupid applying such meaning to the configuration of a series of parentheses and semicolons.
After wasting way too much time thinking about it, I settled on the safest reply I could think of. Whatever, Brody. Do you want to see me or not?
Then I tried not to count the seconds until my phone blinked again. I tried really, really hard. It was a valiant effort, really. But in the end…
Ninety-two. It took ninety-two seconds.
I do. Be there around seven.
I smiled. This time, he included an emoticon wearing a big grin.
Seven p.m. That gave me plenty of time to get ready. I could relax for a little while, even. Enjoy my moment of respite, knowing that it wouldn’t last forever—that in a matter of hours, I’d have someone by my side again. A very sexy someone who made me laugh. Someone who always left me satisfied, but desperately wanting more.
I hummed a Heart classic as I lay down on the couch, sighing in relief. Oh, try to understand… try to understand…
He’s a magic man.
14
Ash
Seven p.m. couldn’t come fast enough.
I’d already played the whole “I remember your fast food order from months ago” card the last time I’d come over to Hannah’s house, so I knew I couldn’t try to pull the same trick twice. She wasn’t specific, but I’d seen her eat often enough that I had a vague sense of what she liked and what she didn’t. I grabbed some Italian from an authentic little place downtown, knotted the bags around my handlebars, and drove real careful the rest of the way to Hannah’s. Last thing I needed was to take a turn at the wrong speed ‘cause I hadn’t accounted for the weight change. Or to show up at her door wearing marinara sauce.
LUST: A Bad Boy and Amish Girl Romance (The Brody Bunch Book 2) Page 12
