by M.A. Stacie
Blinking rapidly, Asher pushed the thoughts away. He wasn’t prepared to revisit those times. He’d moved on. “I should take you home. You’re too stressed to drive your own car home. We’ll come and collect it later. When you’ve calmed down a bit.”
Emma didn’t protest.
“Sometimes it feels like the job I do is utterly futile,” she said, oblivious to Asher’s mental anguish. “We try to help them but we hit so many roadblocks. The doctors usually understand but they have rules they have to adhere to. It makes me feel useless.”
“You’re not. You know you’re not.” She finally turned her head to make eye contact with him. “And I’m not saying I agree. Not at all, but I guess it’s all there to protect the kid.”
“How does it? I’m here for him—to help him. I can’t do anything for him though, can I? I’m not allowed. I have to wait for his social worker. Or for him to run back to it all.”
“Without question, visiting him helps and knowing that you are actually there for him. From what you’ve told me he has no one else.”
“He has someone.” She sneered. “Someone he keeps going back to. Someone that uses him for target practice!”
Asher hung his head and muttered his response. “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love them.”
Her gasp didn’t surprise him. He couldn’t explain why anyone would care for the very person who hurt them. And he’d lived it. So how was Emma going to understand? In her world there were good and bad people; she was helping the ones who had suffered. To him, life was way more complicated.
Slowly, he raised his head, noting the way her eyes had grown wide. Her mouth was open, and her shock was evident in her features. He wished he’d kept his dumb mouth shut. By commenting, even that small amount, he revealed far too much to her about his past.
Panic had nausea rising in his gullet. He needed to defuse her oncoming questions because once she started to ask about his past, he knew she wouldn’t stop. Asher couldn’t lie to her. Something about her got to him. Something about her made him want to tell her everything and have her say that he’d be okay now.
Confused by his feelings, Asher tore his hand away from hers and started the engine. He could hear her spluttering, clearly trying to work out what had just occurred and what he’d said. Asher fixed his gaze on the windscreen and drove, unable to look at her.
They remained silent—eerily so. Every sound the engine made appeared to be far louder than it should, and the bustle from outside was as clear as it would be if he had the window lowered. He was aware of every move Emma made, each time she shuffled, combed her fingers through her hair or sighed. Her little noises were driving him insane, leaving him gritting his teeth so tightly it made his jaw ache.
He didn’t like this reaction. Not one bit.
“Um, thanks again for coming to help me. I should have really called my dad, but my fingers just pressed away and then I was talking to you. Guess my subconscious knew you were the best person to talk to.”
“Maybe,” he said curtly, gripping the steering wheel that bit tighter.
“Meagan would have been useless. That’s if she’d arrived at all.”
Asher scowled, quickly diverting his gaze toward her for a second. Anger laced his next question. “Why are you friends with her? She sounds so shitty.”
Emma’s brows rose, taken aback by his abruptness. He hadn’t meant to be so rude, but his body’s reaction to her was irritating him so he snapped. There was no doubt he wanted to be friends with her. However that would be where it had to end. He was not a good bet. Not at all.
She blushed, reaching up to toy with the key pendant on her necklace. Her brow furrowed, creases forming in the usually smooth skin, and her eyes boring into his until he couldn’t take it anymore. He looked away. Either that or crash the damn car.
The voice inside of his head told him to apologize. It wasn’t fair to react the way he had done, or for him to label her friend as shitty when he was the one being horrid.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, turning the car to the left far too late. He received a chorus of horns from other road users. Still irritated he flipped them off and let rip a curse or two.
“Jesus, Asher, what’s wrong?”
“Not a goddamn thing.” He pulled to a halt at a set of lights.
His blood started to boil, his knuckles turning white from the strangle hold he had on the wheel. It was all his fault. Right now, he was just winding himself up further, the other road users only fuelling his fire of aggression. Nevertheless, he couldn’t back down. He spiralled, the more he thought about how he reacted to Emma the more irritated he got, leading him to think about the way he’d shouted at her. That reaction just had him hating himself further.
Christ, he was an emotional mess and not used to the sensations that swirled within him at all. All of it could have stopped because there had been no huge cause. He had wound himself up to this level.
Maybe he was more like his family than he’d ever imagined.
Asher’s heart virtually stopped beating at that thought. The cold sweat he’d experienced earlier now bursting out again across his heated flesh. He took long, slow breaths, focusing on keeping each one steady. He needed to calm himself down and make things right with Emma.
As soon as the traffic lights changed he pulled away, searching for somewhere safe to stop. He couldn’t let this carry on. He was probably scaring the life out of her.
Finding a side street, Asher slowed the car and stopped. He fumbled, unbuckling his seatbelt and eventually turned to face her. She still toyed with her necklace and her eyes shot all over the car, refusing to meet his.
“Em,” he croaked out, feeling like the biggest bastard ever. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I got angry and lost it.”
“I don’t understand. We were okay—you came to the hospital for me, and then I blinked, opening my eyes to this.” She gestured toward him. “What the hell happened?”
Asher screwed his eyes shut; hating the horrified look she was shooting him. It didn’t matter though. He could still see it, as if it was burned into his retinas, reminding him what an idiot he’d been. A ridiculous amount of self-hate had oozed just because he didn’t want to like her. The emotions had been futile.
He did like her. And what he was feeling was something far more than friendship.
Forcing himself to open his eyes, Asher swallowed the huge ball of guilt that had lodged in his throat. “I can’t really explain it.”
“Try.”
“My head got a bit messed up.”
“That’s not an explanation, Asher.”
He tried to grasp her hands but she pulled away. Her withdrawal sliced at his heart, leaving him doubting what she had started to mean to him.
“It will sound ridiculous and rather childish.”
“What will? Look, you’re confusing me. Just spit it out!” she demanded, raising her voice.
Reacting quickly to her raised pitch, he blurted out, “I like you, okay? I really like you.”
She stilled as his heart began to crash frantically against his chest. It didn’t even register with him completely what he’d declared until her eyes began to soften and a smile slowly swept across her lips.
“Do you want to have sex with me, Asher?” When he snorted at her joke, she continued. “I like you too, though your actions tell me that isn’t a good thing.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Enjoy it?”
“How? Emma, I don’t date. I don’t even have friends. I should be left alone.”
“We’ve covered the friends thing.” She stroked her hand down his forearm, tilting her head so that he couldn’t divert his eyes from hers. “Ben is your friend, and I bet you had others in that house at the party. You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re a nice guy, Ash.”
“You call my little outburst just then nice?”
“I don’t mean that, but you should really explain what that w
as all about. That was one hell of a mood swing. One minute you were with me, the next you were driving the car like someone hell-bent on destruction.”
He shrugged. “I snapped. No biggie.”
“You think I’m buying that blasé attitude? Truthfully, it only pisses me off that bit more.”
Asher couldn’t stop the smile that formed in response to her cursing. It was so out of character. Like a small child repeating the big words she’d heard her mummy say.
“What’s so funny?” Her spine pulling rigid.
Without analysing, he lifted his hand to cup her face. He took a moment, enjoying the soft texture of her skin and revelling in his body’s reaction. One simple touch had his skin tingling and his pulse skipping into overdrive. He wanted and hated the reaction in equal measures. She turned him upside down so much he didn’t know what to think or to do next.
“Nothing.”
Pulling her head from his hand she glared at him, her pupils dilating. She blinked once before letting her irritation loose on him.
“Nothing?” Her pitch was somewhat hysterical. “Nothing? Are you serious? Asher, I don’t know what’s going on with you, or for that matter what you’ve taken, but whatever it is you tell me now.”
“Huh? Taken? I—”
“Don’t give me that. I called you for help and was so thankful when you came. You supported me when I thought I might fall, offered me a hand to steady me but as soon as we get into the car you change. You flip out, yelling at me and every other road user out there. What I don’t get is why. I honestly thought we were doing okay, so you can understand my confusion.” He opened his mouth to speak but it appeared Emma wasn’t ready to let him have his say. She continued, “You were fine at the hospital. In fact, your tantrum only appeared after we left. That’s why I wonder what you took, because you changed one eighty in the space of about twenty minutes. So are you going to tell me?”
“You think I’m on drugs?” he asked, disbelief causing him to smirk.
“Maybe,” she responded, this time not as confident.
“And what caused that assumption? My past? Those little facts that you know about me? Or maybe it’s just that I warned you off me. I warned you to stay away so that means I’m using? Really?”
“In my head, it was a way of rationalising your actions. You turned into someone aggressive and scary within seconds. I don’t understand it.”
Something lodged in his throat in response to her words. It became difficult to speak, and he swallowed repeatedly, trying to shift it. “You’re scared of me?”
Emma shook her head, her hand moving up to touch her key pendant. “No! I didn’t mean that. I said you were scary, not that you scared me. Asher, this is out of control. Can we both take a breath and calm down?”
Asher twisted in his seat, facing forward as he restarted the engine.
“What are you doing?” she asked, buckling herself back up.
“Driving you home.”
He was being an arsehole, he knew it. There was no need to be so abrupt with her. He had the problem, not her. It wasn’t Emma fault.
“I called you because I thought you’d understand. I thought you’d help me.” She spoke so low he could barely hear her over the sound of the engine and his angry blood roaring through his pulsing veins.
“I do understand.” He sighed heavily, giving in to temptation as he placed his hand on her knee but kept his eyes on the road ahead. “The situation with Gabe? It’s a bit much for me—too close to home.”
Asher felt her body slump. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me asking you to help. I wasn’t thinking straight. All I could focus on was Gabe and the blood.”
Nodding, he turned the corner. He wished he could tell her the truth, not that his explanation had been a lie because it wasn’t. It was a half-truth and it would have to suffice. He was in no rush to bear his soul to her, no matter how she made him feel.
“Can we drop it for now? I mean, the more we talk the more we go around in circles.”
“And the more irritated you get?”
He ignored her comment, turning the car onto her street. He hated this area. It smelled different. It smelled of something he couldn’t afford and made him feel like he was fourteen again. He despised that weakness—the fact that he could never forget where he came from. Ike had rescued him but he couldn’t delete what was already installed. The dirt of his past was more than skin deep.
“You can stop here,” Emma said abruptly, unfastening her seatbelt.
“What? There aren’t any houses around her.”
He stopped the car, turning to scowl at her. She clutched her bag, looking over his shoulder rather than making eye contact. His aggression and mood swings were scaring her no matter what she said. He was being a prize dickhead.
Riled with himself, he slammed his fist against the dashboard. The pain was a sick kind of relief. It zipped up from his knuckles, stinging the skin and jarring the bone. The dashboard creaked but thankfully held up to his hostility. Her yelp of horror was lost in the roar of his blood as it pounded in her ears.
Gritting his teeth, he welcomed the discomfort, feeling the ache as it pulsed in unison with his heartbeat. The internal torment he felt was replaced by the physical torture, and it calmed him enough to deal with Emma.
“I’m sorry,” he started but swiftly comprehended he was talking to himself.
He was alone in the car.
Emma had walked out on him.
“Fuck!” he snarled, slamming his fist back into the dashboard.
Chapter 9
“What do you think would be best?” Asher asked the woman in front of him. “What types of flowers are usually given for an apology?”
The woman winked. “Ah, I see. You in the dog house? What did you do?”
Embarrassed, Asher looked at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh, dear, isn’t it always?” She began picking random flowers from the numerous pots on the floor, grouping them in her hand. “If I had a pound for every man that walked into here and told me it was complicated.”
“You wouldn’t need the shop?”
The florist tapped him on the nose with the petals. “Correct. Now, how big does this apology need to be? I can tell from the blush in your cheeks this isn’t for your mum. So how big of an idiot were you?” He was about to speak when she continued. “Don’t you go telling me this is a cheater’s apology!”
Asher spluttered, wondering if it would have been easier to buy the flowers from a supermarket. This woman was a bit too forward for his liking. “I…it…There was no cheating.”
The woman grinned, her pink glossed lips spreading wide to reveal her teeth. “Then I’m happy to help. What flowers does she like?”
Shrugging, Asher glanced at the tubs lining the floor. He hadn’t bought anyone flowers before, and except for roses, he had no idea what any of them were called. He liked the purple ones, so pointed toward them and nodded.
“Iris. A great choice. Do you want a bouquet of just those, or shall I add a bit of flair?”
Asher frowned. “If you think flair would look nice, yeah.”
Her laughter burst free, echoing around the shop. “Oh, you’re funny. Flair isn’t a flower, honey. I was just asking if you wanted me to pretty it up or keep it simple.”
His skin heated again as embarrassment flooded his system. Well, how the hell was he supposed to know something like that? He sold books not flowers. “Um, sorry. Yeah,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Knock yourself out. Do whatever you think will work.”
“You mean whatever will make her forgive you. I can’t promise that, but I’ll make sure you get a smile out of it.”
Asher grinned. “Deal.” He watched her as she pulled more stems from the tubs, collecting a good handful before she began to arrange them. She interspersed little white flowers throughout the bouquet and finished it off with a large leaf at the back. “Ribbon or rope?
”
“Um, I don’t have a preference.”
Clicking her tongue, the woman began to bind the stems with a lilac ribbon. “So what did you do? You have me curious.”
“I lost my temper,” he replied, scowling as soon as the words left his lips. Why had he said that? And why had he suddenly become so talkative since Emma had entered his life? He was confessing all kinds of shit to anyone who asked now.
“Are we talking in a bad way here? Am I going to have to tell you to leave?”
Realizing how his confession could be construed, Asher shook his head quickly. “No! No, not like that. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Emma is…well, she’s…I just shouted. I lost it when I really had no reason to. I got frustrated.”
“You scared her.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I think so.” He stared at the tiled floor, scrubbing his jaw with his hand. “I’m not too good at this friends thing. Communication isn’t a strong point.”
“I can see that, though you are talking to me.” She raised an eyebrow. “Would you like a card with them?”
It took a second for Asher to grasp her change of subject. “Um, no. I think it would be better if I took them to her myself.”
She tapped him on the nose again with the flowers. “Very wise.”
After placing the wrapped flowers on the counter, she entered the price into the till. Asher handed her his card and waited for her to process the payment. He hadn’t even heard how much the bouquet was. Not that it mattered to him. He’d pay whatever he had to as long as she accepted his apology. He was trying not to focus on why it was important to him, but the question reverberated around in his brain. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her in years, and now he was prepared to grovel to keep her around. It didn’t make any sense to him. He relied on himself, rarely looked for attention, or affection, elsewhere. And yet he was seeking Emma out.
