The stables were manned every day, so the people who owned the horses could check in and out. Sometimes every man and their dog were there, especially during the week when riding lessons and events were running. But today, this late in the afternoon, it would be pretty quiet since they were getting ready to close.
Asher pulled in by the front doors and parked his ride, letting me climb off the back before he put it on the stand.
“I’ll only be a minute,” I told him, handing over his helmet.
His eyes met mine, this intense look settling over his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I paused for a second, wondering if there was more to those words. Or if my heart was just getting carried away and trying to decipher things without my brain’s permission.
I fought the urge to ask what he meant, and instead, turned and jogged into the building and out through to the back where the stables were located. I knew this place like the back of my hand. I knew exactly where I was going and what stable Camomile would be situated.
Except she wasn’t.
I got to her gate, expecting her head to pop out of the little opening and meet me, but there was nothing.
No horse.
“What the hell?” I questioned, and my nose crinkled as I flicked the latch and stepped inside. There was a little form they hang inside if they’re out with the horse, so we know who’s in and who’s out, and if we needed to be worried about people or horses missing when close-up time came around.
The sheet wasn’t there.
A couple of heavy footsteps out in the corridor had me shaking my head. He just couldn’t stand to wait.
“I told you I’d just be a minu—”
Smack.
A hard blow to the side of my face sent me crashing into the stable door. I couldn’t shake off the pain, my legs giving out beneath me. My body crumbled into the dirty hay with a hard thump, shooting a new, sharp pain straight up my spine.
My head was spinning, my cheek instantly feeling like it was three times the size. I groaned loudly, pressing my hand to the side of my face and blinking past the rush of tears that formed in my eyes.
“Hey, Ophelia.”
Please, no.
Please make it stop.
“Ash—”
He grabbed my face, covering my mouth and digging his fingers into my cheeks. “Your friend can’t come to help right now,” Ethan chuckled loudly, crouching down beside me. He reached out, sweeping my messy hair back from my face.
I slapped at his hand, pushing it away and pulling my fist back.
I was too dazed, my movements too slow and jerky.
He caught my wrist, grabbing my hair with his other hand and tugging hard, forcing my head into an awkward angle. I let out a loud sob, the pain making my head feel like it could break away from my neck at any second.
His laughter was loud and obnoxious, the horses around us even finding it unsettling as I could hear them moving restlessly, their hooves clipping loudly and their heavy breathing pulling me away for a brief second.
“Still that same little girl who couldn’t stand up and have a say, huh?” he taunted, shoving me backward and jolting my head.
He got to his feet, and for the first time, I managed to look up and take him in. The tears blurred my vision a little, but it didn’t matter. He was exactly the way I remembered him, always standing over me, always having to look down on me to assert his damn power.
Clenching my jaw, I pressed my hands to the floor, and even though they shook, I forced my body to climb to my feet. “Fuck you,” I hissed painfully.
He watched on, with his eyes wide but not in shock.
In delight.
“Good girl,” he praised. “Fucking finally! All that time I spent with you, you were always so broken, so unwilling to fight for yourself. Always more worried about everyone else.”
“You killed her,” I accused, my voice breaking right alongside my heart when that manic grin grew wider. “You knew she could prove that baby was yours, and you killed her.” The tears were streaming steadily down my face, the pain in my head and back almost too much to fucking bear.
“You think she wouldn’t have done it herself eventually?” he scoffed, pressing his pointer finger to the center of his thick black-rimmed glasses and pushing them further up his nose. “Anna had problems. She couldn’t be fixed. I tried.”
“It wasn’t your job to fix us,” I screamed, bracing my hand against the wall when my body wobbled. “You were meant to listen. Just listen. And care.”
His eyes flashed for a second, and he clenched his teeth, a sneer curling his top lip. “I helped you girls through hell.”
“You were hell!” I screamed, reaching for the bucket that was balancing on the post close by and tossing it with force at his head. He ducked, the cleaning contents spilling over his head and drenching him.
Shit!
I’d done it.
He came at me, water dripping from his nose and the edges of his glasses as he reached for my throat. His fingers dug in, pinching my throat tightly and making it hard to breathe. “You didn’t deserve the help I gave you,” he growled, forcing me backward, my back suddenly running into something hard. “Neither did she. I gave her that baby, gave her something to live for, and she was going to fucking use it to destroy me? After everything I did for her.”
Each breath was becoming harder, my heart rate growing as my body recognized I wasn’t getting enough air.
I tore at his arm with my nails, but it was like he couldn’t feel anything, so I quickly worked on a new plan. I drew my foot back and kicked, connecting with his fucking balls and drawing a deep, guttural roar from his mouth. His grip released just enough for me to grab at his fingers, twisting and forcing them backward at angles they definitely shouldn’t go.
The cracking sound coming from them was almost better than the fucking air I was breathing.
I shoved him away, and he fell to the ground.
I needed to put some space between us, but he was sitting right in front of the open gate, and I didn’t know what the hell he would do if I turned my back to climb the railing behind me.
“It doesn’t matter,” he muttered, his hands shaking as he reached inside his jacket.
My head shook back and forth as he pulled the small handgun from inside, admiring it as he spoke, “You loved her, right?” My mouth was dry, my throat screaming and raw every time I inhaled. “Right?”
“Yes,” I whispered, the sound barely audible.
He nodded. “You’ll see her again soon. I left plenty of room to bury you right beside them.”
10
Asher/Rein
“Fuck you, asshole,” I spat.
Ethan turned just in time to see the shovel in my hands meet his fucking face.
I’d only played golf a couple of times, but I swore that swing was a fucking hole in one.
Or maybe it was more like a tennis swing? The backside of the shovel connected with the side of his face. His body slumped to the side, the gun dropping from his fingers.
I leaped forward, snatching it from the ground and tucking it into my pants before I reached for Phee. “Come on,” I urged, pulling her forward so hard she stumbled into my arms. She was in shock, her body shaking. “Fuck.”
Wrapping my body around her while I shuffled the both of us down the middle of the stables, past the smear of blood on the concrete outside where the fucker had caught me off guard with the exact weapon I’d possibly just killed him with.
Fucking idiot.
I just needed to get Phee the hell out of here, then I needed to make sure this shit was fucking over so she could move on. We got to my bike, and I sat her at the edge, holding her body there. She looked up at me, her eyes a little dazed and the side of her face looking three times the size it should have been. “It’s okay,” I murmured, leaning forward and gently pressing my forehead against hers, just offering that much without pushing her too far. She was rattled, and I knew
she was probably about to crawl in on herself, and every bit of fucking hard work she’d done to break free of those chains he had around her, was going to be undone.
She was losing the battle.
I just couldn’t watch her sink back.
But first, I needed to fix this.
A black SUV roared into the parking lot, jerking to a stop beside us. Heath jumped out of the driver’s side while Fable rushed around to meet us.
“What the fuck happened?” Heath roared. His fists were clenched like he was praying for a reason to smack me in the fucking face.
“He came back, didn’t he?” Fable questioned, stepping right in beside me and gingerly sweeping her thumb across Phee’s swollen cheek.
“Dammit,” Heath cursed, his eyes sparkling with the kind of sharpness you didn’t find in many teens. The kind that sought out violence and retribution. But if it hurt the people he loved, that’s exactly what he’d do.
“I need you to take her down to the pier. Look after her. Give me a little bit of time to finish things up here.” I held Heath’s gaze as I spoke, allowing Fable to slip in and wrap her arms around her friend. Phee reached out for me, shaking her head and ducking out of Fable’s arms, stumbling back toward me. I cradled her to my chest, one arm around her, careful of any injuries she could have, while the other softly swept her hair back from her face. “I’m gonna fix this, okay?” I murmured.
“Ash—”
“Go with Fable,” I told her, this time my voice a little harder, but I needed her to listen. “Trust me, okay?”
She tilted her head up, catching my eyes. “Okay.”
I watched her walk away, Fable helping her climb into the backseat before hefting herself in beside her. Heath came around the front of the car to meet me, his dark gaze staring straight ahead. “You need some help?”
Shaking my head, I backed away. “You don’t need to get involved in this shit. Just look after her. I’ll meet you in an hour.”
He didn’t answer, just a simple nod in reply. Things may have been tense between us, but I knew he’d do this—not for me but for her.
The second they were gone, I took off running.
Bandit was already on his way.
Shake and my brothers would be following soon.
I had to get rid of this shit before someone saw something they shouldn’t and called the cops. This, it wasn’t a fucking matter for the cops. This was an attack on a club member’s family, and the club took that fucking personally.
We handled these matters in our own way.
I was practically sprinting by the time I found the open stable, grabbing the door frame to hold me up while I caught my breath. “No… fucking… way,” I cursed, slamming my fist hard against the wall and throwing my head back. “Fuck!”
Some bloody handprints and a dented shovel, and that was it.
The little bastard was fucking gone.
“Goddammit!” I kicked the bucket on the ground, sending it flying, and the horse in the next stable reared up in fright. “Shit! Gotta clean this up.”
I grabbed another cleaning bucket and filled it with hot water, using it to scrub the bloody prints from the walls and anything else I could find that looked like it could resemble fucking evidence. I couldn’t have the cops come in and take this shit.
If they caught him first, he was simply going back to jail.
And for Phee to get any peace of mind, the only place I was sending this bastard was to hell.
Bandit rolled in just as I was leaving the stables. I didn’t like it. There was something I was fucking missing, and my head was so focused on Phee and getting to her to make sure she was okay that I just couldn’t fucking put my finger on it.
“He’s not here,” I told Bandit when he rolled down his window. “Thought he was out cold… but went back in, and he, the asshole, was fucking gone.”
“Shit!” he cursed, strumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “You clean up?”
“Yeah, cleaned up, and found the horse that was meant to be in that stable, put it back in with a fresh load of fucking hay to cover anything I missed.”
But there was still something.
“I need to go check on her,” I told him, my feet itching to get moving.
Bandit waited a beat. I could see him questioning whether I was good, whether he needed to step in and fucking take over, but after a few seconds, he just nodded. “I’ll follow you.”
11
Phee
“Phee, stop, goddammit!” Asher growled as he made his way down the sand, pulling his shoes off and tossing them to the side.
The waves splashed around me, throwing me off balance.
Or maybe that was the vodka.
I lifted the bottle to eye level.
Is half of it really missing?
I’d found it in the backseat of Heath’s car, and one sip to calm my nerves and soothe the pain in my face had become a few more sips.
Shrugging, I waded out a little further, the water soaking through my jeans. It was at this point when I probably should have been feeling the chill, or at least maybe considering whether this was a good idea.
Instead, I raised the bottle to my lips, throwing it back and filling my mouth with the toxic liquid as I took a step further into the surf. I sucked in a sharp breath as the saltwater splashed up into my face, making the split in my lip sting like hell.
I blinked back the tears, trying to focus on something else. The storm clouds that had rolled in overhead had destroyed the sunset and forced darkness to settle a lot faster than usual. My gaze was pulled to the lights from the pier. They danced across the dark water, sparkling, swirling, and creating the most beautiful patterns. I knew this was a bad idea. I could feel it in my bones. It was stupid, it was dangerous, but I just didn’t care.
At least it was something.
And that was all I wanted.
To feel something other than my skin and the way it was itching, feeling like I’d been burned by acid where his hands had touched me. It was taking every ounce of strength I had to fight the cyclone of self-hatred that was swirling around me, threatening to tear me to shreds, thread by thread.
I was stronger than this.
Yet, the second I saw his face, that confidence, defiance, and power I’d spent so many years building up, was suddenly nothing. I was back to that fourteen-year-old girl who was too scared to fight back and who didn’t stand up and say something to protect someone she loved.
The water was making its way up to my waist. It was icy, but it felt good like maybe that was the only thing keeping me awake. I lifted the bottle again, but before I could press it to my mouth, a hand grabbed my wrist, stalling it in mid-air. A second later, another hand ripped the bottle from my grip.
I opened my eyes just in time to see it fly through the air and land with a splash.
“What the—”
A wave hit me, throwing me completely off my feet, but before it could swallow me completely, Asher yanked me toward him, one of his arms wrapping tightly around my waist. “Jesus fucking Christ, Phee. What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m trying to get drunk,” I snapped while swiping hair back from my face.
“You’re gonna fucking drown,” he growled, the harsh tone to his voice echoing in the fading light and making me shiver.
Maybe that was the plan.
Tears burned in the back of my throat. “So, you’re suddenly captain responsible?” I yelled at him, pushing his body away, but he just held me tighter, his eyes narrowing.
“Someone fucking has to be. And it’s obviously not you.”
“You have no idea what I am right now,” I answered, wondering if the words even made sense.
Water dripped down the side of his face, my hand itching to reach out and swipe it away. He was drenched because he’d come in here to rescue my dumb ass.
“I know you’re on this fucking mission of self-destruction,” he threw back confidently, pressing a cold hand to
the side of my cheek. It felt good, like an icepack on an injury, and I found myself leaning into it. “And I know I’m not gonna let you do it.”
I shook my head, and it threw my body off balance. Reaching out, I wrapped my hands in his shirt. “I’m just done,” I huffed, manic laughter following. “I’m done, Ash. Every time I take a step forward, someone shoves me back ten.”
“I get it.”
I laughed louder. “Do you? Do you get what it feels like to have your entire family torn away from you? Do you get what it feels like to have someone you despise touch you, hurt you, and threaten to destroy you if you ever turned on them?”
The tears poured now.
My soul was hurting. It was angry. It was broken.
And all I wanted was for the pain to stop.
“You aren’t defined by what he did to you. He doesn’t fucking own you,” he growled, pulling my face closer to his as we fought to stay on our feet. Pain shot through my jaw, but I didn’t even care. It didn’t matter anymore.
“But sometimes it feels like he does,” I cried, my entire body shaking with anger. “How many years has it been, and I still don’t have the strength to fight back. I still let him win.”
“And yet, you haven’t. He didn’t stop you from surviving hell. He didn’t stop you from getting a job you love. He didn’t stop you from being a good fucking person. He did not break you.” He spoke with conviction. It surprised me, but I felt drawn to the power in his words. I sometimes forgot just how strong he was and the strength that his presence gave me.
Suddenly, he dipped his head, pressing his cold, wet forehead to mine, our noses brushing.
“Fight back, Phee,” he growled. “This isn’t you. This isn’t the girl I met a few weeks ago who broke some rich kid’s nose. This isn’t the girl who took a damn chance and climbed on the back of my bike. You’re stronger than he makes you feel.”
I lurched forward, pressing my lips against his. He tasted like the ocean, the saltwater tickling my tongue as I swiped it across his lips. His arms lifted my body, and instinctively, I threw my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist.
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