by Jo Raven
Yeah, Johnny has said that before. I scratch the back of my head. “So I guess you’re not out to kill me, then?”
“Kill you?” He sighs. “I wanted to help you. You’re Jake’s boy, and no matter his faults, he was my friend. Look, I’ll make sure Carl doesn’t come after you again.”
I nod. “Thanks.”
“Ash... If you ever want to get into professional fighting, let me know. I’ve got connections. Think about it.”
I want to think about it, but my head’s spinning. Besides, I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back to fighting again. The doctor wasn’t too pleased when he found out I suffered quite a few concussions in the past years. Said it could cause permanent brain damage and that I should avoid violent sports.
Like fighting.
I nevertheless thank Johnny and turn to go.
Options. For the first time, I have options. I’m free to select my own path.
I only hope Audrey will walk it with me.
***
I make it back to the apartment before Audrey and huddle on the couch, trying to warm myself up. My little outing has both shaken and exhausted me. I was so stressed out about talking to Johnny, my hands are still trembling, and walking there and back in the wet cold has leeched out the last of my energy.
Plus, Audrey’s smell’s all over the place—sweet and fruity. I swear it permeates the cushions of the couch. It makes me feel comfortable. Way too comfortable.
My head drops back. My lids feel so heavy, which is ridiculous. I’ve slept most of the day away already, but I can’t keep my eyes open. My body sinks into the sofa and I fall into snatches of dreams—dark corridors, broken windows, and a voice repeating, ‘It’s over, it’s all over’ and I can’t decide if it’s a good or a bad thing.
And then I hear a woman’s voice call my name.
“Asher? Asher Devlin?”
Audrey? No, that’s not her voice. I roll my head and wince at the throb in my temples. I crack one eye open but that cranks my headache up a notch, so I open both and take a look.
Shock jerks me forward in the seat. “Mrs. Morrison.” Audrey’s mom. What is she doing there?
Oh shit. Of course. I’m in her apartment. She has to be asking herself what I am doing here.
“Mrs. Morrison...” I swallow. My throat is so dry it clicks.
“Is Audrey here?” She leans to the side to look into the bedroom.
“No. I... I don’t think she’s here right now.”
Fuck. Funny how I don’t sweat so much when I face seasoned fighters in the cage, but Audrey’s mom... Well, let’s just say I want her to accept me. I don’t want Audrey to clash with her mom because of me.
“Mrs. Morrison, I know you don’t want me here.” She’s looking at me, with those green eyes, so much like her daughter’s. I forge on. “And I respect that. Audrey said I could stay for a while, get back on my feet. But this is your place, and I’ll go if you want me to.” I suck in a deep breath. “Please don’t blame her. I know my dad destroyed your lives and that I’m not who you wish your daughter to be with. But I’ll work hard and finish school and...” And what? I rub my eyes. They burn. “I’d never hurt her. The thing is, I love your daughter.”
Audrey’s mom is staring at me, her gaze so intense I have to look away. Shit. That probably isn’t what she wants to hear. But I’m not backing off this time. I’m done running away. If there’s one thing I’d still fight for, that’s Audrey.
Her mom isn’t saying anything, and that makes me nervous. Okay, more nervous. This is my girl’s mom, for chrissakes. I don’t care if she hates me as long as she doesn’t force her daughter to choose between us. Audrey loves her mom. I’m not sure about many things, but I’m positive Audrey won’t give up on her mom to be with me.
She shouldn’t have to be asked to make that choice.
“Asher,” she says and reluctantly I turn back toward her. “Audrey doesn’t know I’m here. And I’m not staying. I was on my way to visiting friends in Milwaukee where I have a business meeting in a few days’ time.”
Why is she telling me this? My pulse is racing so fast I think I might have a heart attack.
“Do you know what I do in my spare time?”
I can only shake my head, more confused than ever. Is that her way of telling me she isn’t going to let me be near her daughter, not now, nor ever?
“I recently got involved with the National Runaway Switchboard, at the headquarters, in Chicago. Our mission is to keep runaway and at risk young people off the streets and offer them help.”
I open my mouth and close it. “What are you saying?”
“There are programs to help you finish school and find a job. I can get you in touch with the right people.” She folds her hands in her lap. “See, I called Audrey but couldn’t find her, to tell her I was coming over, so I called Tessa, her friend. And Tessa told me what happened. And I want to help.”
I swallow but the knot forming in my throat isn’t going down. “You want to help me.”
Her cheeks flush. “I also wanted to say... I’m sorry, Asher, for the way I treated you. I really am.”
I just sit there, shocked speechless for the second time in one day, and the only thought running in circles inside my head is, what a strange new year this is proving to be, though it’s barely started.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Audrey
I left the others when they decided to go out for drinks. Zane has left Ash alone and I’m worried. Zane assured me Ash looked okay and is probably asleep again, but a weird feeling in my chest won’t let me relax.
I’ve tried to ignore bad premonitions before, and they turned out to be true. Okay, so this time I don’t feel as though Ash is in mortal danger or anything, but still... I have to make sure he’s all right.
As I hurry through the streets, adjusting my scarf around my chilled neck, I tell myself he isn’t a child and that I should probably stop hovering over him the whole time. Heck, after the morning sex we had... Yeah. Definitely not a child.
God, I feel hot just remembering how he touched me, how he held me, how we rocked together.
If it wasn’t so cold outside, I’d be fanning myself at the memory.
But he’s still recovering from the beating from hell. Add to that his dizzy spells and I think I’m perfectly justified in wanting to check on him.
Yeah, okay, so I can admit to myself I have a protective streak when it comes to Ash. That boy needs someone to look after him. Whenever he smiles, he brings me to my knees and melts my heart. He needs to smile more.
I climb up the stairs and unlock the apartment door. I close it behind me quietly, in case he’s asleep, and creep inside.
And stop in my tracks.
Voices. They drift over from the living room. I lean back against the wall to listen.
A woman’s voice. I frown. Mom? I peer around the wall and there she is, sitting on the couch—next to Ash? What’s going on here?
“Please listen to me,” Mom is saying, her voice quiet yet vibrating with emotion. “I’m afraid I did something very stupid, something I told myself I’d never do: I judged without knowing. I judged you. It wasn’t my place to do so.”
Mom is apologizing to Ash? That’s so great, I can’t help but grin.
Ash is hunched over, though—hands on his thighs, dark hair falling in his face, hiding his eyes. What’s going on in his mind?
“I should have trusted Audrey’s opinion of you,” Mom tells him. “I never actually thought about your dad beyond the accident. Didn’t realize he made us both suffer.”
“He...” Ash doesn’t lift his head. “He was my dad. He’s still my dad.”
“Yes. Of course.” Mom gets up. “I’m sorry. For everything. I’ll leave you to rest. I’ll talk to Audrey about the programs I mentioned. As for staying here... This is Audrey’s apartment, and she should do with it as she pleases. My life is in Chicago now. And I have the impression she cares about you very much, Asher D
evlin. Take good care of my daughter.” When he doesn’t answer, she hesitates. “Asher...”
Then she sighs and turns to go.
I step back into the bedroom as quietly as I can, hiding. I don’t want to talk to Mom right now, no matter how glad I am she’ll help Ash and that she’s sorry for how she treated him before.
But I don’t want to spend time on small talk and coffee, not now. Something in Ash’s posture, his bowed head, twists that odd feeling in my chest into something heavier.
I wait until Mom leaves and I hear the click of the door closing before I step into the living room.
It’s only then I see how he’s shaking. Now I think about it, I’ve never seen Ash cry. Not when his dad beat the crap out of him and he ran away, not when my mom sent him off, not even after he learned his dad died and when he was beaten to a pulp and knifed. He’s strong and tough, and I often forget he’s my age—barely eighteen, barely an adult.
“Ash.” I hurry around the sofa and sit, drawing him close. He wraps his arms around me and holds on like a man drowning. I wonder if Mom told him anything nasty before I arrived, but what I heard was positive. “Mom’s right, you know. I do care about you a lot.”
He clutches me harder, crushing my ribs. His head is heavy on my shoulder. “Too much,” he whispers. “It can’t last. This can’t last.”
He’s afraid. And I think I understand why. Good times, in Ash’s life, seem few and fleeting compared to the bad ones.
“We’ll make it last,” I say, inhaling his familiar scent. “You and me, together.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Asher
Dad’s funeral is a quiet affair. Tyler is there, as he said he’d be, but I avoid him afterward and he doesn’t force the issue. He sends me a few sad looks but drives away and I don’t hear from him again.
He came through, though, keeping his word about the bank account. So now I have some money to my name, which is another of those weird new things in my life.
Like having a home again.
Clearing my stuff from Dad’s house, going through his things and deciding what to keep and what to give away is tough. Audrey helped me with that. I don’t think I could have done it alone. Awful as Dad was most of the time, he left a goddamn hole in my life. I’m angry at him, for beating me, for dying, for losing the house. And I’m grieving, too.
Time passes. After the first awkward week when I didn’t know whether I should sleep on the couch or Audrey’s bed, if I was supposed to cook or only wash and help clean and who had the bathroom first in the morning, we settle into a sort of routine.
We sleep in Audrey’s bed. She’s even cleared drawers and shelves for me in her bedroom. Going to sleep with her in my arms is one of the best perks of my new life. It keeps the nightmares at bay—the ones of me running in the streets looking for her. Her sweet smell seems to reach into my subconscious, reassuring me she’s fine.
And, yeah, going to bed is fun. Mostly because the moment she starts to undress I pounce and tackle her to the bed. She never stands a chance, and doesn’t seem to wanna fight it, either.
As for the bathroom, she has first dibs, and the cooking... Well. I did try but after a few disastrous attempts, we’ve decided I’ll keep to the washing and cleaning. Best for everyone’s health.
The stitches came out and my bruised body is starting to heal. The headaches are growing weaker and don’t come on so often. By mid January when Audrey’s classes at college begin, I’m slowly starting to find my old self.
Less stressed, though. Easier in my skin. Not so afraid of the future. Audrey’s mom sent me a few phone numbers and told me which people are in charge of funding and counseling programs and can help me. I might give them a call.
As the month draws to a close, I return to my evening classes, trying to catch up with all I missed the past weeks.
It feels weird not to worry about the basics. To have a safe place to come home to, and my girl waiting for me at the door.
Believing it might all end suddenly is a fear I struggle with. Good thing Audrey seems to have enough faith for both of us.
Tonight I’m the one waiting for her. My lesson was canceled and for the first time in ages I feel good. I feel strong and well, horny. Not my fault; she’s addictive. I’ve never been so into a girl in my whole life. Everything about her turns me on—her wild red curls, her lush lips, her curvy body, her scent, her taste...
Oh fuck. I’m hard just thinking about her.
The lock turns and I walk to the door, waiting for her to come in. Then I grab her in my arms and lift her, whirling her around. She squeals and I laugh, letting her slide down.
I can see the question in her bright eyes, the question that wants to spill out of her mouth, but I swallow it, pressing my lips to hers, letting her know all I feel for her and all I want.
She smiles when I pull back and reach for the hem of my T-shirt. I tear it off and she trails her hand on the dragon tat that curls over my pec and shoulder, up where it touches my neck.
Hell. This girl can bring me to my knees just by a touch of her fingertips.
Grinning, I walk her backward, running my hands down her body. I push her blue coat off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor as I steer her toward the bedroom. Her sweater comes off next, landing in a pile by the bed, followed by her long-sleeved blouse.
God, her lacy underwear drives me crazy. It’s half-transparent—today it’s blue with tiny white flowers—and it reveals more than in hides, hugging her breasts, lifting them. I bend over and kiss the twin mounds, and I hear her breath catch. Then I press my mouth lower, until she moans and buries her fingers in my short hair. I love how her hardening nipples stretch the thin fabric, begging me to lick and nuzzle them.
When I do, her knees buckle and I lower her to the mattress, climbing between her legs to tug down her leggings. I hesitate with her lacy panties, the same color as her bra, looking at her for a long moment in her matching underwear.
So damn hot.
Then I rip the panties off and trace my fingers down the inside of her smooth thigh, to the soft red curls down there. She’s so pretty, from head to toe. I take in her scars, take in all of her. I inhale the scent of her arousal and have to still for a second, because my dick’s dangerously close to bursting.
Take it slow. That’s the plan for tonight. Make sure she enjoys every moment. Her face is alight, her eyes dark with desire. Her lashes lower when I run my thumb between her legs, spreading her open. Then I bend over and flick my tongue over her hard little knot, and she whimpers. She’s delicious, I want to eat her up and that’s what I intend to do.
But she has other ideas. “I want you inside me,” she whispers. “Ash.”
I lift my head to tell her of my plan to draw the pleasure out, make her come until she sees stars, but her expression stops me. It’s solemn; too fucking serious. Shit, something isn’t right.
“Hey.” I place my hands on either side of her head and lean over her, staring into those brilliant green eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Ash.” She threads her fingers through my hair, pulling me down. “Show me.”
I blink down at her, meeting her clear gaze, about to ask what she means—when she draws me down and kisses me. It’s slow, sweet, deep and hot. Her legs wrap around my hips, trapping my cock between our bodies, making me gasp and break the kiss. She rolls her hips in a long, endless movement.
Damn, slow doesn’t seem possible anymore, not when she presses on me like that, turning the tables. My plans for the evening fly out the window. All I want is to pin her to the bed and slam into her.
“Show you what?” I manage, my throat tight.
“I want to see you letting go,” she says. “Taking your pleasure.”
Let go. How can I let go? Raising myself on my arms, I lift my hips, pressing against her, desperately trying not to come in my pants. Trying to restrain myself with all I have. “What if I hurt you?”
“You can’t hurt me
,” she says, certainty in her voice. Her head drops back and the sight of her underneath me, only clad in her blue bra, her red locks fanning around her head, breaks my control.
“Fuck, Auds.” I push down my pants and briefs, toe them off together with my socks, and grab my dick.
Then I freeze, because she’s looking at me under her lashes, a faint smile playing on her lips.
I can’t hold back any longer. I push into her in one thrust, almost passing out from the pleasure. She grips me, clamps around me; silky heat and rippling strength that wring a cry from my throat.
Panting, I shift up, looking down at her delicate face, her parted lips. I pull out of her all the way to the tip, then thrust back inside, growling deep in my throat as liquid fire shoots up my spine. Fuck, she squeezes me until I can hardly breathe. Fuck going slow.
As if reading my mind, she lifts her legs, digging her heels into my thighs, and rocks her hips, somehow taking me deeper than before.
Oh fucking hell. My balls ache, my dick hardens more. I brace myself on my hands and let go, slamming in and out of her. Sweat rolls down my face, stinging my eyes, a counterpoint to the massive pressure rising in my gut, tightening my balls and swelling my junk.
Holding back is near impossible. Dammit, I want to see her writhe in pleasure before I lose all control. Now it’s too late. I’m too close.
“Auds.” I hiss as the pressure rises higher, as my cock starts to twitch. “Christ, Auds...”
Her hips lift, pressing me one last millimeter deeper, and her mouth opens in a silent cry.
My ears are ringing. My body strains, my ass clenches, and white-hot fire fills my dick. The pleasure bursts through every nerve-ending in my body, forcing a strangled moan from my lips.
Jesus. Fuck. I still, then thrust again, my hips snapping. It’s as if my body’s trying to turn itself inside out. I come and come for what feels like forever.
I fall on top of Audrey, all the strength going out of my arms. I pant, doing my best to suck air into my starved lungs and blink the dark spots from my vision. Oh god, I can’t remember ever coming so hard. Ever feeling so good.
