CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ASHTON
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ASHTON
“Goddammit, Walden.”
Jess was seething when I got upstairs. That was her greeting as I came through the door.
Trace was at the bar, pouring himself a drink, and he slid one across the counter for me. I picked it up, taking a sip before focusing on the love of his life.
“Trace explained to you that Molly Easter is my business. He told you the situation. I was told you agreed to step back because of it. What is your issue?”
“My issue?” Her hands went to her hips, and her eyes narrowed, and she looked like she was daydreaming about pulling her weapon on me. “My issue is that you look like you’re fucking her. Are you?”
“You were at my place. You saw that we get along.” I was lying then, and I was lying now, or ... somewhat. “Why are you pissed about this now?”
“Because despite what you wanted me to think at your place, I knew you hadn’t fucked her. She just got out of the hospital.”
“She’s my business.”
“A cruel business.” Her hands went in the air, and she twisted around, her back rigid. “I’m aware of that. God, I’m aware of this Mafia-business bullshit.”
Trace came to stand next to me, taking a pull of his own drink. We were both watching his woman. I raised an eyebrow at him. “You want to step in here? Help out?”
He shook his head. “Not one bit. You both know the situation, and you’re both pissed.
You’re pissed she’s wading in because she cares about someone.
She’s pissed because she cares about someone she thinks you’re going to fuck over.
And she’s pissed about what you did to her, which I’m still pissed about.
You’re not as apologetic as you should be.
” He turned, his back to his woman, and he faced me squarely, his eyes glittering.
“Yet.” Then he smiled before he took a second drag from his drink.
“But unlike Jess, I’m cluing in to the real situation, and you’ll be sorry for what you did to Jess. You’ll be real sorry about it.”
I frowned at him. “I already am.”
“No. Not quite, not until you imagine someone doing to someone you love what you did to mine. Then you’ll get it.” His eyes flashed. He was finding this amusing, but there was a hardness to him too. “I’m looking forward to that day.”
I quieted, but dammit. I turned fully toward her. “I am sorry, Jess. I am truly sorry for what I put you through. I thought I was doing the right thing for my best friend and for our family—”
“That’s not good enough.” Jess stepped forward, her hands back on her hips, her chin up in the air. She was staring at me, almost challenging me. “That’s not fucking good enough. I’m aware of why you did it, but apologize and leave the last part off.”
Goddamn!
I was being forced to swallow my fucking pride. It tasted like battery acid. “I’m sorry for torturing you.” I took a step toward her, my eyes narrowing. My voice went soft.
Trace growled next to me.
I ignored him. “I’m sorry for doing it for hours.”
I was challenging her right back, but I’d already apologized. I’d already had my ass beaten and put in the hospital because of it, by my best friend, and how many times did I need to apologize?
“You are such a fucking dick.” Jess was shaking her head, but some blood drained from her face, leaving her looking ashen.
Guilt moved into my chest.
I lowered my head. “I am sorry.” I looked up because I was. I truly was, but it was hard to take back damage that you inflicted.
Jess shook her head again, and a hollow laugh came from her.
“The thing is—you’re not sorry you hurt me .
You’re sorry you hurt someone Trace loves, and that I wasn’t the traitor.
That’s what you’re sorry about. There’s a difference, and this, you and me—we’ll never get along until you’re actually sorry that you hurt me . ”
She started to leave, but I blocked her. Or I started to, until Trace growled. “Think about that, brother.”
I threw him a look, but I didn’t move. Not when he just called me brother again.
She started to leave again.
“Jess,” I called after her.
She reached for the doorknob, but she didn’t pull the door open. Her hand on it, she looked back at me. Some of the fight had left her. “Do not hurt my friend. You do, I will shoot you.” She let out a soft breath of air. “And you know Trace will let me.”
I threw him a sideways look. He only smirked at me before finishing his drink.
She left, and we heard the elevator arriving not long after.
I watched Trace as he went to the windowed wall and looked down. We both knew who he was watching.
“You’re not going to say anything?” I asked, moving to stand alongside him.
“About what?”
I looked down, seeing what he was seeing.
Molly was laughing with her friends. The bartender seemed infatuated with her.
I wasn’t liking the bartender and made a mental note to see if he really needed to have his job or not.
Trace shook his head. “I’ve said enough on the matter of you and Jess. It’ll get worked out. I’m seeing that now. It’s just a matter of time.”
I frowned as he went back to the bar, pouring himself another drink.
Jess had been one of our last bartenders up here, and since then, neither he nor I had let anyone else take her place behind the bar.
Him, because he didn’t want anyone else up here.
Me, it wasn’t for sentimental reasons like him.
I just liked the extra privacy. I began enjoying making my own drinks when I came here.
“You’re seeing what now?”
Trace just grinned, holding up a bottle of vodka. “You’ll see. Want another one?”
I looked at my drink. I had half in there but tossed it back.
Life was crazy right now, but if my brother was offering to make me a drink, I was going to take him up on it. Jess wasn’t the only one I was still trying to make things right with.
I handed him my empty glass. “I am sorry for what I did.”
He took it, somber, before he nodded. “I know.”
Then, he made us both drinks.