Too Late

by Colleen Hoover

  "I need someone to help me lift Asa so I can change my comforter. He threw up everywhere."

  Jon mutters, "Good luck with that," from the couch.

  Carter glares in Jon's direction and then immediately starts to head to the stairs. I can see the disapproval in Dalton's eyes, but he begins to follow Carter as well.

  When we all make it up to the bedroom, the stench is so bad, I'm forced to cover my nose to keep from gagging.

  "Holy shit," Dalton mutters. He walks straight to a window and opens it. We all look down at Asa and I'm a little embarrassed for him that he's naked. But knowing Asa, he wouldn't care. And even if he did, it's no one's fault but his own that he's in this position.

  Carter reaches down and tries to shake him awake. "Asa. Wake up."

  Asa groans, but still doesn't wake up.

  "What the hell did he take?" Carter asks, turning toward Dalton.

  Dalton shrugs. "Hell if I know. I saw him chew a few pills on the way to the casino. Heroin on the way home."

  Carter doesn't even hesitate when he leans forward and hooks Asa under the arms. He lifts him up and then stands, pulling Asa away from the bed.

  I immediately gather the comforter and wad it up. I'm not even going to attempt to wash this one. I set it in the hallway and then change the sheets, just to be safe.

  "Which side does he sleep on?" Carter asks, still holding him up beneath his arms. I point to Asa's side of the bed and Carter drags him over there. Dalton helps lift him back onto the bed and I pull another blanket out of the closet and cover him with it.

  When I'm tucking it around him, Asa opens his eyes and looks up at me. He runs a hand over his face, wincing. "What's that smell?" he grumbles.

  "You threw up on the bed."

  He grimaces. "Did you clean it up?"

  I nod and whisper, "Yeah. I changed the sheets. Go back to sleep."

  He doesn't close his eyes. Instead, he lifts his hand and tugs at a strand of my hair. "You take such good care of me, Sloan."

  I stare at him for a second--at this vulnerable version of him. And somehow, even with Carter standing in the room with me, I feel for him.

  I can't not feel for him.

  Asa isn't the way he is because he chooses to be. I feel like he is who he is because he was never shown how to be anything different.

  For that, he'll always have my sympathy. He'll never have my heart, and he'll likely never even have my forgiveness.

  But I can't help but give him my sympathy.

  I start to stand up, but he reaches out and grabs my wrist, pulling me back down. I lower myself to my knees beside the bed and Asa wraps his hand over mine. His eyes are closed when he whispers, "One time, when I was five...I threw up on my bed. My father made me sleep in it. Said it'd teach me not to do it again." He releases a small laugh, but then his eyes squeeze together even tighter. "Guess the bastard was wrong about that, too," he mutters.

  Oh, God.

  My hand goes to my heart as I ache for the little boy in him.

  I turn and look at Carter and Dalton, and they're looking at Asa with just as much pity as I am. When I turn back toward Asa, he's rolling onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow.

  He grips the pillow in both fists and presses his face against it so hard, I'm convinced he's trying to smother himself. His shoulders begin to shake as they roll forward into the pillow.

  "Asa," I whisper, soothing a hand over his head.

  He becomes a wreck of sobs. It's the kind of cry that is so deep and heart wrenching, it's not even accompanied by a sound.

  Completely silent.

  I've never seen Asa cry. I didn't even know he was capable of real tears.

  He won't remember any of this tomorrow. He won't know if I left him here alone or crawled into bed and held him. I continue to sooth Asa's head as I glance up at Carter. Dalton is no longer in the room. It's just the three of us now.

  Carter walks over to me and I can see equal amounts of sympathy in his eyes. He lifts his hand and runs it over my cheek, then bends forward and kisses me on the forehead.

  He holds his lips there for several seconds before breaking away and walking toward the door. When he reaches the doorway, he turns around and stares at me for a moment. He lifts a hand and slowly runs his thumb over his bottom lip. My heart reaches out for him, but I stay planted on the floor, comforting Asa.

  I lift my hand and pull at a strand of my hair, winding it around my finger. Carter's lips stretch into a ghost of a smile as he watches me for a few seconds longer, then closes the door.

  I climb onto the bed, under the covers, and I wrap myself around Asa, soothing his tears until I'm convinced he's finally asleep.

  But right before I drift off, I hear him whisper, "You better never fucking leave me, Sloan."

  The first thing I see when I open the refrigerator is a bowl of leftover spaghetti. Thank God.

  "See, Dad?" I whisper to no one. "She's a fucking godsend."

  I put the spaghetti in the microwave and then walk over to the sink to splash water on my face. It feels like I slept with my head in the fucking toilet all night. Hell, based on the stench of the bedroom this morning, I probably did.

  I lean over the counter, waiting for the spaghetti to finish heating up. I stare at the bowl as it rotates in circles inside the microwave.

  I wonder if I killed him?

  I doubt it. It's been almost a day since we left the casino. If he died, the police would have been here by now. And if he lived, I'm almost positive he won't press charges. He knows he deserved what I did to him.

  The microwave beeps.

  I pull the spaghetti out and grab a fork, then shove a bite into my mouth. I barely get it swallowed before I have to find the trashcan. I throw up twice, rinse out my mouth, and then force another bite of spaghetti into my mouth.

  I'll push through this withdrawal like a motherfucker, because I am not turning out like that man.

  I eat another bite of spaghetti and swallow it down with my bile.

  Push through it, Asa.

  The front door swings open and Sloan walks inside. I glance at the clock and notice it's barely after two. She's never home from school this early. Either she doesn't notice me standing in the kitchen or it's that time of the month and she's in a pissy mood, because she rushes straight up the stairs and to the bedroom.

  Not a minute later, I hear her making a mess of the bedroom. Stuff falling to the floor. Her feet moving from one side of the room to the other. I stare up at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck she's doing. My head hurts too bad to go up and look for myself.I don't have to, because a few seconds later, she's storming down the stairs.

  When she rounds the corner to the kitchen, my dick twitches in my pants. She's angry as hell and it's hot as fuck. I smile at her as she marches toward me.

  Before I can even get a word out, she's in my face. She shoves a finger in my chest. "Where is the paperwork, Asa?"

  Paperwork?

  What the fuck is she talking about?

  "What the fuck are you talking about?"

  Her chest is heaving, and if she would just step a few inches closer, I would be able to feel it."My brother's file!" she says. "Where is it, Asa?"

  Oh. That paperwork.

  I carefully place the bowl of spaghetti on the counter and then bring my arms up and fold them over my chest. "I don't know what you're talking about, Sloan."

  She inhales a meticulous breath, exhales it with even more precision, and then spins around. She puts her hands on her hips, trying to find the strength to remain calm.

  I knew if she ever found out what I did, she'd be pissed. Even so, I've never really given much thought as to how I'd talk my way out of it.

  "Two years," she says, gritting her teeth. She spins back around and her eyes are full of tears.

  Well, shit. I didn't mean to make her cry.

  "For two years I thought you were paying for his care. You showed me the paperwork, Asa. The letters
the state sent. The check stubs." She begins pacing back and forth. "The social worker thought I was an idiot today when I asked her if his benefits could ever be renewed. Do you know what she said to me, Asa?" She faces me again.

  I shrug.

  She takes a step forward, folding her arms over her chest. "She said, 'The benefits were never cancelled, Sloan. Stephen's care has never been private pay.'"

  Tears are streaming down her cheeks now. For the first time since she walked down here, I start to get a little uncomfortable that maybe I took it too far with this lie. She's angrier than I've ever seen her.

  She can't leave me.

  "Sloan." I take a step forward and put my hands on her shoulders. "Baby, listen. I had to do whatever I could to get you back. You left me. I'm sorry you're upset." I move my hands to her cheeks. "You shouldn't be mad about this, though. It took a lot of fucking effort and money on my part. If anything, you should be flattered that you're that important to me."

  Her hands come up between mine and she pushes me away from her. "You fucking asshole!" she yells. "You forged an entire file to back up your lies, Asa! Monthly letters from the government! Who the fuck does that?"

  She has no idea how much money I had to pay the fucker who sends those or she'd be thanking me right now.

  She points at me from across the kitchen. "You trapped me. This whole time you made me think there was no way out."

  I swallow the anger down. I take a step forward. Did I really just hear her right?

  "I trapped you?"

  She's so worked up, she's inhaling small gasps of breath. She wipes angrily at her tears and nods, lowering her voice. "Yes, Asa. You trapped me. I've been your fucking prisoner for the last two years, thinking my brother was about to have to go back to my worthless mother. All because you knew if you didn't have that to hold over my head, I would have left you."

  She doesn't mean what she's saying. She's angry. She would never leave me. Yes, I lied to her. Yes, I paid a shit ton of money to make it look like her brother's benefits were cancelled. But it was a temporary fix. She would have come crawling back to me eventually if it weren't for that. I just made it easier on her.

  "Is that what you think? That you've been a prisoner here?" I ask. "Do I not give you a place to sleep? Buy your groceries? Give you nice things? Allow you to go to college? Drive my cars?" I walk across the kitchen and don't slow down when I reach her. I walk her backward until she's pressed against the wall, my hands caging her in. "Don't you dare stand here--in my home--and imply that you didn't have every opportunity in the world to walk out that fucking door."

  I push off the wall and point toward the living room. "Go. If you don't love me anymore, fucking leave!"

  She would never leave. I know this, because if she left, that would mean she's been using me for my money these last two years. Using me as a sole means to support her goddamn waste-of-space brother. If that's the case, that would make her a whore by definition.

  And I'm not marrying a fucking whore.

  Sloan glances at the door and then looks back at me. She shakes her head, and I swear she smiles. "Goodbye, Asa. Enjoy your life."

  She begins walking toward the front door. "I do enjoy my life, Sloan. I enjoy it a whole fucking bunch!"

  I allow her to reach the front door before I walk after her. She's not even to the grass before I have my arm wrapped around her waist, my hand over her mouth. I turn her around and walk her back into the goddamn house she's so ungrateful for. I carry her straight up to the bedroom and kick open the door. I toss her onto the bed and she tries to scoot off and run around me.

  How cute.

  I grab her by the hair and swing her back to the bed. She screams, but I put a stop to that with my hand. I climb on top of her, covering her mouth with one hand and holding her wrists down with the other. There's not much I can do about her legs as she does her best to kick her way out from under me, but I have more strength in one finger than she does in her entire body. It feels more like she's tickling me than attempting to hurt me.

  "Listen up, babe," I whisper, staring down at her. "If you try to insinuate that you don't love me, I'm going to be really upset. Really fucking upset. Because that would mean you've been pretending with me since the day you walked back through my door. That would mean you've been faking every orgasm, every kiss, every word you've ever spoken to me--simply for a monthly check. And if that were true, that would make you a whore, Sloan. Do you know what men like me do to whores?"

  Her eyes are wide with fear. Hopefully that means I'm getting through to her. She's no longer attempting to kick her way out from under me, so that's a good sign.

  "That was a question, babe. Do you know what men like me do to whores?"

  A tear falls out of her eye as she shakes her head. I can feel the breath from her nostrils slamming against my hand; she's struggling so hard for more air.

  I lower my mouth to her ear. "Please don't make me show you."

  We lie like this for a few more moments, while I make sure my words are sinking in. I pull back and look down at her. Her expression hasn't changed, but now she's crying so hard against my hand, snot is coming from her nose. It's on my fucking hand now. I pull it away from her mouth and wipe it on the bed. Then I grab the sleeve of my shirt and I wipe her face clean.

  Her lips are quivering. I don't know why I've never noticed how fucking attractive that is. I kiss her softly, closing my eyes while her lips tremble against mine. "Do you love me?" I carefully whisper the words against her mouth. "Or are you a whore?"

  A shaky breath passes her lips. "I love you," she whispers. "I'm sorry. I was just upset, Asa. I don't like it when you lie to me."

  I press my forehead to the side of her head and exhale. In a way, she's right. I probably should have never lied to her about her brother. But if she had been in my shoes, she'd have done the same thing.

  "Don't ever get angry like that with me again, Sloan." I pull back and brush her hair out of her face. It's sweaty and sticks to my hand. I run my fingers through it, smoothing it out with the rest of her hair. "I don't like what it does to me," I say quietly. "What it makes me want to have to do to you."

  She nods. "I don't like it, either," she says.

  Her eyes are full of regret, but I don't feel bad. It's her own fault for coming at me like she did. At least that's out of the way, though. It was becoming tedious to keep up with that lie for so long, I was starting to get sloppy with it.

  I release her wrists and bring my hand to her face, running the backs of my knuckles across her cheek. "Should we kiss and make up now?"

  She nods, and when I press my lips to hers, I exhale with relief. Because for a split second when she was walking toward the front door, I thought maybe she was serious about leaving. I thought maybe I would never get to taste her like this again.

  I'm relieved it was an empty threat. I don't know what I'd do if I ever found out she didn't actually love me. She's the only one who does.

  She turns her head to the side and gives me access to her neck. As I kiss my way down her body, she begins to relax.

  When I finally have all her clothes off, she spreads her legs for me. I press against her. "Do you love me, Sloan?"

  She nods, then says, "Yes, Asa. I love you."

  My tongue dives into her mouth at the same time my dick dives inside her.

  Inside her--where I'm the only man who has ever been. Where I'm the only man who'll ever be.

  "You're mine, Sloan," I whisper, fucking her just like she likes to be fucked. She grips my arms and squeezes her eyes shut.

  She feels it so deeply; she cries the whole time.

  I close my eyes and allow the spray of water to beat down on my face.

  What was I thinking?

  Confronting him alone? Not warning Carter what was about to go down? That was really dumb.

  But in my defense, it's hard to think when you're in a blind rage.

  After I left my doctor's appointment this morning,
I got the call from the social worker. I had been driving toward campus, and when she revealed that my brother's care wasn't private pay, I lost it. Completely lost it. I turned the car around and drove straight to my brother's facility to meet with her. By the time I left, I had never been that angry.

  The only thing I could think about was Asa and how I wanted to kill him. Rage really does blind you. When I walked into the kitchen to confront him, I didn't care that he could hurt me. I just wanted to know if it was true--if he'd somehow been sending me forged letters from the government. I didn't want to believe it, because believing it would mean he is certifiably insane. But the only type of person who could invent a lie like that and keep it up for two years has to be certifiably insane.

  I remember the day he brought over my mail after we broke up the first time. The benefits letter was on top. After I read the letter, I was devastated. The bastard actually comforted me--told me if I ever needed anything, he'd help me in a heartbeat. He said, "That's what you do for the people you love, Sloan. You help them."

  That was back when I believed he actually loved me and it was a heartfelt gesture. Now I think it's more of a psychotic obsession.

  I had nowhere else to go, and thanks to what I thought was about to happen to Stephen, I ended up being forced to ask Asa for help. It was a last resort, for sure. Hell, I even called the number on the form that day to see if I had any other options. Now I realize it was obviously a fake number with one of Asa's friends on the other line, but I didn't realize it at the time.

  The hot water mixes with the tears that are now streaking down my cheeks.

  How could I have fallen for it for so long? All the pieces are still coming together, right down to why he only lets me use his car on Sundays to go visit Stephen.

  The social worker doesn't work on Sundays. There would be no chance I'd ever run into her and strike up a conversation about his benefits.

  I still can't wrap my mind around it and it's been hours since I found out. I try to tell myself it took me so long to find out the truth because I had no reason to think he would do something like that. But I had every reason.

  That's what Asa does.

  He's a liar. A cheat. He sabotages people. He sets people up.

  I'm so angry with myself right now, I scrub my body even harder, wanting to get his smell off me. I'm scrubbing my neck when the shower curtain flies open. I gasp and move so that my back is against the wall and I can better fight him off if it comes down to that.