by Franca Storm
“Yes,” he said, looking relieved that I was understanding his complicated situation. He softened and slid his hand into my hair, stroking with a tenderness that had my breath catching. “You could never be a meaningless fuck to me. You mean something to me. I care about you, Ashley. I want you in my life. I never would’ve crossed that line with you last night if I wasn’t prepared to own that. But I won’t let you get pulled into my darkness.”
“You have to tread carefully.”
“Exactly.”
“All right,” I conceded.
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “I’ll give you time, but don’t just stand still. Try.”
“Believe me, I am.”
“Okay,” I said, stepping into him and hooking my arms around his neck. He took the cue and leaned down to brush his lips against mine. I relished his soft and sweet kiss, a world away from the wild roughness of last night. It was just another facet to his extremely complicated personality that I enjoyed.
He just needed to see that acceptance from me, to truly believe it.
And I’d help him get there.
Maybe that would then help him to open up without fearing the consequences.
He wanted time, then I’d give it to him.
Hell, with my life currently at a standstill, I had a lot of it.
14
~Wraith~
“I COULD STAY HERE FOREVER.”
She was too cute for words.
I swung my head her way, grinning. “You’d get bored.”
“We’ve been here for a couple of weeks and I’m not bored.”
“Weeks are a lot different to forever.”
She huffed and sat up on the plaid blanket, giving me one of her exasperated looks, the one that let me know I’d pissed her off. I’d become quite familiar with it since I’d known her. “You’re being way too literal, baby.”
Baby.
That was something that had evolved over our time here together. It was sweet when she said it as a loving endearment, yet, somehow also incredibly sexy when it came with that lilting rasp of hers when she was turned on. It floored me that those two things could actually exist as one. But, then again, Ashley was an enigma to begin with. A refreshing, captivating, addictive enigma.
“Well, being straight to the point and logical are kinda my thing.” The direct opposite of her dreaming and creative nature.
Somehow it worked.
It had been working well.
After our blow up and explosion of truths a few days ago, things had shifted.
I felt warm and lighter than I’d ever felt before. She brought a sense of optimism to my life. She exuded hope and possibility. For so long, I’d thought my lot in life had been settled. In some ways, I’d considered it my penance. In others, it had been my prison, keeping the monster contained and away from everyone.
But with Ashley, that irredeemable part of me didn’t seem so prevalent. At times, it was little more than a dying shadow of a memory.
She swung her leg over me, settling herself onto my lap. Rubbing my shoulders, she said, “Don’t you find it romantic, though? You and me being here alone, cut off from the world? These picnics? Our walks through the forest and the mountains?” Lust sparked in her eyes. “Christening every room of the house?”
It’d been almost two weeks since I’d taken her virginity and she’d been insatiable, wanting it all the time. I had more stamina than most, but I was still pushing forty. Her twenty-three-year-old sex drive was more than a little trying. Of course, I’d had an idea of what I’d been getting into with our age difference. But, with the added virgin thing, it’d been even more taxing than I’d predicted. Once a newbie got a taste of what they’d been missing, it’d been known in many cases to spark an addictive need in them. I knew it’d calm down soon. But, for now, it was kicking my ass.
It was a good thing I’d always enjoyed a challenge.
“Yeah, I can see the romance in it,” I admitted.
“Really?” she asked, her whole face lighting up in that beautiful way that did things to me. Jesus. I was smitten as fuck with her.
While it was more than a little unnerving, it also felt really good.
“Don’t you also think that—”
I pressed my finger to her lips. “Uh uh. I know what you’re doing, sweetheart.”
She batted my finger away. “And what is that?”
“You’re procrastinating.” I gestured to her notebook and papers scattered all over the blanket in the area that she’d been sitting on before climbing onto me.
“Fine,” she muttered, sliding off me and returning to her work.
I’d discovered a few days ago when I’d happened upon her working on her tattoo designs, that she had a draft of a business plan for her proposed tattoo parlor, TRUE INK. Apparently, she’d been working on it for the last few months. Owning her own place had been far more than a mere dream far into the future. She’d actually been taking steps to make it a reality. I’d encouraged her to go ahead with it, to finish up the business plan. It had taken some convincing, because she felt everything that had happened lately had stripped it away from her. But I’d reminded her that it was only temporary. It had relit that spark of hope and positivity in her and she’d been working on it ever since. I’d given her some pointers, because I’d had my own business too. But Spartan was the guy she really needed to go to about it. He had been running a successful empire for years via Iron Kings. He was the true expert. She wasn’t ready for that yet, but when things calmed down, maybe she’d realize what a vital resource he was.
When things calmed down?
If they calmed down, was more like it.
The situation with the Rogues had been dragging on for far too long.
From my daily check-in calls with Spartan, it was clear that nothing had been resolved.
He was playing it safe. Too safe.
I got it. There was a lot on the line. Many people depended on him for their livelihoods, as well as their safety.
But there was a point where slow and easy wasn’t good enough.
And I’d brought that home to him during our last call, where I’d also laid out an idea. He was an accomplished strategist and he always weighed things over thoroughly first before making a decision.
I’d just hoped he’d seen things my way.
I couldn’t stand the idea of being cooped up here for as long as I had been when I’d first gone to ground after Hammer’s betrayal.
And the idea of Ashley losing that much of her life wasn’t acceptable to me by any means.
A little grunt of frustration from her had me casting a look her way. She was crossing out something she’d written. Then she sighed, calmed herself, and got back down to it, words flowing out of her and across the pages at a rapid, determined pace.
I smiled to myself and laid back on the blanket, staring up at the clear blue sky overhead.
I let the picturesque surroundings infuse me with a true sense of relaxation that I hadn’t felt in an age. It had me reveling in it, kidding myself into believing that nothing else existed outside of the two of us in our bubble, impenetrable to the outside world.
I’d savor the lie for a little while longer.
I closed my eyes and breathed in the serenity.
***
“FINN?”
My eyes snapped open and I found Ashley grinning at me with amusement. “Wow,” she said with a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, sitting up, feeling dazed.
“I must be wearing you out. You just dozed off for a couple of hours.” She held a mug out to me. “Coffee,” she told me. “Just the way you like it. Strong and bitter.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the mug from her and swallowing a couple of large gulps, hoping it would give me the kick I needed. “Sorry I fell asleep.”
“No worries. This place is insanely secure. Plus, you look cute when you’re sleeping.”
“Cute?” I questioned.
“Yeah?”
“Mmm hmm. Despite all the awfulness surrounding us right now, we’re able to laugh and take some joy in our lives. We’re both haunted by brutal pasts, both struggling to carve out better lives. And, when we’re together, the weight of that seems to disappear. Everything seems brighter. Beneath your hard outer shell, there’s a softer, sweeter side to you that you’ve shown me repeatedly. You make me feel stronger, more capable, lighter.” She grinned salaciously. “Plus, you’ve got some major skills in the sack.”
She was something else. I put my mug down, then wrapped her up in my arms. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
We held each other for a long while in easy silence.
When we finally pulled back, I saw her frowning in thought.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She looked nervous about whatever it was.
“Sweetheart, you can tell me whatever.”
Sucking in a breath, she took a beat, then asked, “The whole innocence thing? You really need that from me, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
She took a moment, then gave a nod. “All right.”
“Yeah?”
“As long as you stop defining yourself by your past and focus on who you are now. You’ve suffered enough, haven’t you? Wouldn’t you rather work towards finding peace?”
She had me grinning. “You’re a little know-it-all. You realize that, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s one of the best things about me. Don’t you agree?”
“Definitely.” I swept her off her feet and she squealed.
“Hey!” she cried. “Where are we going?”
“It’s about damned time we christened the kitchen.”
“Ooh, yes!” she exclaimed excitedly.
Goddamn, she was the most incredible woman I’d ever met.
Mine.
15
~Ashley~
“DINNER!”
I stopped short at the sound of Finn’s voice coming from the patio.
I’d thought he’d been in the kitchen the whole time. About an hour ago, he’d asked me to keep away while he prepared some sort of secret meal. I didn’t know what he was planning, or why he’d wanted to keep it secret, but I’d humored him.
I’d been reading on the couch in the living room ever since.
There was a bookcase stocked full of old, dusty hardcover books, ranging from fairytales and classics to books on war and philosophy. It made sense having a whole collection of reading material here, given that it was an intended safehouse, which meant no internet access or the like. People had to have something to do to pass the time when they were here, so they didn’t go crazy.
I closed my book and placed it down on the coffee table.
“Out here!” he called again, as I got to my feet.
I followed his voice, making my way out of the living room and down the hall that led to the backdoor. The moment I stepped outside, my heart skipped a beat.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
“Oh my God,” I gasped, as I took it all in.
The rectangular six-seater patio table was covered in a tablecloth with a beautiful spread laid out upon it. There were flowers that he’d placed in glasses as makeshift vases, candles that cast a soft glow over the table.
It was all very… romantic.
He grinned at my stunned reaction and pulled out a chair. “Have a seat, sweetheart.”
I walked over and took a seat, smiling to myself as he pushed it in for me.
“What is all this?” I asked.
“This,” he said, gesturing around the table, “Is a safehouse version of a romantic dinner.” He gestured to the nearest plate. “Tuna and crackers.” To a small bowl. “Baked beans, full of protein.” To the rectangular plate, “The classic macaroni and cheese.” Pointing to a square dish, he went on, “Chocolate pudding for dessert with whipped cream on top.” Then, he picked up a large bowl and pushed it toward me. “Raspberry jello with fruit inside, from one of those many cans lining the pantry shelves.”
“Oh my God, you remembered what I told you about the jello?”
“Of course,” he said, taking a seat opposite me.
“But that was over a year and a half ago, Finn.”
He leaned across the table and took my hands in his. “I was still in the early stages of my recovery and I wasn’t able to eat solid foods. You told me you’d make me some jello and I turned my nose up at it, telling you that I didn’t want to be treated like a child.”
I chuckled at the memory. “Yeah, you weren’t the best patient.” I gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s okay, I knew you were just frustrated.”
“I was. In fact, I was downright angry and that was pretty much all I could see. Until you came back in with a bowl of jello that had fruit inside it. Before I could get another snarky word out, you started telling me a story about your mom. You explained that she used to make all kinds off flavors of jello containing your favorite fruits for Christmas, that it was one of her signature dishes. She made you a bowl whenever you were sick or upset too and it always succeeded in putting a smile on your face. Instead of the classic ice cream that people used as comfort foods, yours was always that special kind of jello with the fruit in it.” He kissed my hands in turn and told me, “That story and the heartfelt gesture of trying to cheer me up with the jello dulled my rage and frustration. It helped me.” He winked. “Just like it was meant to. A magic family recipe for sure.”
“That was why you became tolerable then.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Tolerable? That’s all?”
I shook my head and gazed deeply into his eyes. “It was when I first started to fall for you.”
“Well, that makes both of us, little warrior.” Kissing my cheek softly, he pulled away and snatched up two champagne glasses.
I laughed when I realized it wasn’t champagne, but the powdered juice we’d been drinking since we’d been here. “Red grape juice has nothing on champagne,” I said, taking the offered glass and swirling it around. “For a non-perishable, ration-like item, this stuff is actually really good.”
He gestured around the table. “This is the feast of non-perishable, long-lasting, safehouse food.”
“I love it. Thank you for doing this, baby.”
“You mentioned romance the other day. I wanted to at least make an attempt.”
“It’s more than an attempt,” I assured him. “It’s amazing.”
“Well, I’m glad you like it.” He held out his glass for a toast. “To us and many more nights like this to come once we get out of this safehouse.”
“Aww,” I said, clinking my glass against his.
We both took a sip, then started in on our meal.
“Who knew you were such a softie at heart, huh?”
He grinned. “Only with you.”
“I’ll take that,” I said, taking a bite of a tuna cracker. “Mmm. You seasoned this.”
“I had to.”
I laughed. “Such a dedicated cook.”
“I tell you, it was hard, given what there was to work with.”
“You pulled it off in a big way.”
I couldn’t believe he’d done this. It was so thoughtful and unbelievably sweet.
“Hey, how did you get this past me? There’s no backdoor through the kitchen. You would’ve had to come through the living room, right where I was sitting.”
“You were immersed in that Beauty and the Beast volume. Plus, you know, I have the nickname, Wraith, for a reason. I’m incredibly stealth when I want to be.”
I laughed, then shoveled some macaroni and cheese onto my plate. I eyed him looking relaxed and happy. With him in a good mood, I figured this was as good a chance as any to ask him what I’d been holding off with for a while now. “Finn?” I started.
/> His gaze shot to mine. Right away, he noticed the serious look on my face. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“I… uh. During the toast, you mentioned getting out of here.”
“Yeah.”
“Was that just wishful thinking, or do you know something?” I knew he’d been trying to protect me more than just physically. He’d kept me shielded from whatever was going on back at the Iron Kings clubhouse. But I was ready now. I wanted to know. I needed to know.
He put down his cutlery and sat back, giving me his full focus. “No. I’ve run an idea by your father.”
I braced myself. “What is it?”
“For me to become actively involved.”
“Are you talking about becoming a part of Iron Kings?”
“There are things that I can do that your father and his club members can’t, because of my ghost status. To the world, I don’t exist. I can do things without the kind of debilitating restrictions and consequences that they would have to deal with.”
It didn’t escape my notice that he hadn’t directly answered my question about joining my dad’s club. “Finn,” I pressed.
“If there was no suffocating, overbearing interference in your life, would returning to Ridgefield be a viable option for you?”
“I have been thinking about it lately. I love the town, the people, the homely atmosphere that exists there. When I was a kid, I actually wanted to stay there and move into this lovely little house down by the lake on the outskirts of town. It’s beautiful and surrounded by nature, a lot like this place. But then things spiraled out of control when my mom was murdered. My dad became batshit-crazy about protecting me and ensuring the same fate didn’t befall me.”
He nodded, taking my words in.
“There are a couple of good locations for me to set up TRUE INK,” I went on. “So, I guess, my answer is yes. It’s more than just a possibility. But things between me and my dad would have to change and that just seems like too much of a tall order.”
“Maybe not,” he said, cryptically.
“Really? How?”
“Like I said, I’m working on it.”
“Well, I guess we’ll see if it pans out then.”
