Fatal Vengeance: A Dark Enemies to Lovers Romance

4. Griffin

The rooms are bland and boring, and I think I’m going brain dead the longer I let it all seep into me. The hotel we’re at isn’t anything extravagant; Asher’s emergency fund could only afford us so much and we need enough left over to, you know, survive. I have a bit of cash, and I imagine Creed does too, but not enough to last life in hotels and meals for four. Maybe we should have all roomed together, saved some money. At that thought, I almost laugh. I can’t imagine the four of us shoved into a room with two queen beds. It’d be a massacre.

Prudence and I seem to be on the same page, finally, and clearly things between her and Creed are as strong as ever. She’s spent the entire day in his room and I haven’t been able to see her. Not that I’m complaining because our relationship isn’t as steady as theirs and Creed is a possessive fucker over her. But fuck, having her all but ripped out of my bed this morning after the night we had was brutal and I’m craving her something fierce.

Guilt and confusion eat away at me as I try to think about how I feel about Asher and Prudence. A group thing seems to be fine with her, which is a relief. Asher, though? He’s the thorn in all this, the jagged shard of glass that refuses to fit quite right amongst the rest of us.

I lay back on my bed, freshly showered and my hair soaking into the sheets, as I stress over this situation and how the hell I’m going to fix it.

I’ve been in love with Asher since middle school. Letting him go isn’t an option, especially now that his eyes have been forced open and he’s not just guzzling down his father’s propaganda any longer. The fact that he saved Prudence from certain death and then came on the run with us just to keep her safe? He’s had a shift in the way he’s looking at things, the way he feels about The Celestials, and he’s even softened toward my little flame. But those two will never actually get along, will they?

Which puts me in a mind fuck, because I’m also madly obsessed with Prudence, and losing her would gut me.

Ultimately, I deicide that choosing between them is never going to happen. Gun to my head, someone forcing me to pick, and I’ll just end up dead, because that choice is impossible. I’ve gone through too much — we all have — to settle for anything other than exactly what we want.

And fuck, I want both of them.

Mind made up, I push off the bed, a towel still wrapped around my waist from the shower. I’m going to go talk to Asher. I can’t force him to be on board, but I can at least lay everything at his feet and try to make him see this is the only way I’m happy. I take a deep breath, nodding to myself to try and build up the nerve. Before I can actually put on clothes and barge into his room, though, there’s a knock at my door, and I know immediately that it’s just the man I was going to find.

Prudence would knock softly, hesitantly due to the weird space we’re still in. And I don’t blame her at all. I fucked up massively and I hurt her, so I know that my job moving forward is proving my devotion and building our trust back up. And Creed, as he’s already proven, would just jimmy his way through the lock as if he has every right to invade my space. The fucker. Asher, though, knocks like the impatient, bossy asshole he is, like the door has personally offended him and he’s seconds away from kicking it down.

I have a second of panic that I’m only in a towel and the cotton fabric won’t do a single thing to hide my erection if I get hard, but then I remember his lips around my shaft, sucking me down deep and dragging me over the edge, and I decide that I don’t really care if I pitch a tent with this towel. Maybe it’ll cement my attraction to him, just in case he’s not already aware of how badly I want him.

Crossing the room as I push my wet, loose curls off my forehead, I pull open the door. Asher’s eyes drop down to my bare torso and he shifts on his feet a bit, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. When he reaches my eyes again, there’s a little flicker of heat in his gaze that settles the nerves in my chest.

He clears his throat, which is so unlike his usually overly-confident and cocky attitude. “Hey,” he says.

I nod in greeting, stepping aside and pulling the door open wider, a silent invitation for him to come inside. When Asher frowns, peering past me into the room beyond, I roll my eyes. “She’s not here,” I rasp. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the rough, unused quality of my voice. Will that ever go away, smooth out? Or did my year of not speaking ruin my vocal cords or something?

Asher presses his lips together and nods, finally walking forward. As he passes me by, he says, “Wasn’t sure. I saw Creed collect her from your room this morning on my way back from the hotel gym.” He pauses and looks right at me. “I’m guessing you smoothed things over with her and now you’re, what, a couple?”

If I didn’t know him as well as I do, I wouldn’t pick up on the thread of loss that laces his deep voice. If I were a stranger, I’d just assume he’s being an emotionless dick with the way his question tumbled out of him. But since I know Asher — the real him, not the version that got brainwashed by The Celestials — I know he’s hurting at the thought of me choosing Prudence over him when we’ve finally come together again. If I wasn’t sure that he wanted me before, this settles it for good. He may not be able to admit as much out loud yet, and we have a lot to work on, but I feel like this is a step in the right direction.

Instead of answering with words and my fucked up voice, I curl my hand around the back of his neck and pull his face close. I don’t kiss him, not right now. I just drop my forehead to his, close my eyes, and tighten my hold on him, hoping he feels the meaning behind my actions. He should. He spent a good chunk of time learning sign language and how to read my expressions and actions just so we could communicate efficiently. Another reason I couldn’t stop loving him, even when he was spiraling and becoming a fucking dick. But we’ll fix that. I can fix everything.

“Griff,” Asher breathes heavily, lifting his hand and holding the back of my neck in return, keeping us close together. ”Everything is so fucked up. I fucked up, and now that I know— Fuck, I don’t know what to do or if making things right is even possible, but… That’s why I came to you. We need to talk. And if anyone can help me sort through the mess in my fucking mind right now, it’s you.” Fuck me, his voice cracks at that last bit, and I swear, I almost throw my arms around him to try to absorb some of this pain he’s feeling.

I open my eyes to find his green ones searching my face frantically, like he’s lost at sea and in desperate need of a lighthouse to lead him home. I stroke my thumb over his neck as I mutter, “I’m here. We’ll work through whatever this is. We’ll all be okay.” And I don’t just feel that way. I’ll damn well make sure of it.

I won’t lose anyone.

We release each other after he swallows roughly, as if he can’t quite believe my words right now, but he doesn’t want to say it. I follow him inside as he goes, shutting my door and sliding the chain lock in place for good measure. I have a feeling this conversation is going to be hard, and privacy is a must. So even if Creed somehow has an extra keycard to my room, that oughta keep him out.

When Asher sits on the foot of the queen bed, looking like a mess as he glances over at me, I go to him. I’ll always go to him. Sitting next to him, leaving only a few inches between us, so my cock doesn’t get any ideas, I nod for him to start. To just let everything out and spill whatever dark secrets are plaguing him.

Asher sighs heavily, raking his hand through his chocolate locks. “I don’t even know where to start,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze to his feet on the beige carpet.

“Start with the biggest threat to us,” I offer quietly. “We’ll work backward from there.”

He blinks over at me, his brows furrowed with tension and his lips turned down. It’s not so much like he’s angry, just overwhelmed in every sense of the word. “You and Prudence—“

“That’s not a threat. Move on and we can circle back to that later,” I say, cutting him off firmly. I’m still not sure how he’s going to take my confession of wanting to keep both of them, and I don’t want this conversation to get off track before it’s even begun.

Asher raises his brows and blows out a breathy laugh. “You’re fucking bossy, you know that?” he jokes, even through the heaviness weighing on him.

I shrug with a smirk. This time, I just sign rather than say, So are you. Good match.

He smiles a bit at that, nodding and murmuring, “Yeah… I think so too.” Blowing out another heavy breath, he drops my gaze once more and finally divulges what’s on his mind. “When we were all searching for Prudence and I went to my dad’s office to see what I could find… Fuck… My dad has files on all of us. And I read them.” Asher stops, closing his eyes with a disgusted shake of his head. “It’s probably a gross invasion of privacy, reading everything in there about you and Creed and even Prudence, but I did it anyway, and now… I can’t sleep with all that sick shit in my head. I’m fucking haunted by it all, Griffin.”

An ominous shiver rolls over me, goosebumps scattering across my skin.

Fuck. Things are about to get a whole lot worse, aren’t they?