Chapter 10
Asher – Present – Age 42
Today had been one thing after another.
We were trying to develop a new route to deliver guns, and one thing after another was wrong with every single route.
I knew that I was growing more grey hairs atop my head and in my beard.
Something had to fucking give.
That was why I slammed my fist down on the table we had in church, locked my eyes on Irish, and said, “Figure this fucking shit out. Pick a goddamned route already. Enough is e-fucking-nough.”
He nodded, “Got it, Pres. Sorry. Maisie has been having these weird dreams about that bitch abandoning her again.”
I nodded, “I got it.” I said, then swept my hand through my hair and said, “You need anything? Just gotta let me know, yeah?”
He jerked his chin.
Looking at the brothers, I said, “Alright, enough fucking heavy shit. Let’s go eat and get drunk.”
Trigger laughed, “And get laid.”
Once I banged the gavel on the table, we all stood up and walked out of the room.
The smells of great food wafted from the kitchen.
Tagging my phone, I pulled it out, knowing it had vibrated a few times.
One of them was from a woman I had a friends-with-benefits thing going on for a bit when Stella was younger.
Word got around that she got married and then divorced again.
Word also got around that she was the one to divorce him.
But I knew better, and I had found out.
He had divorced her because she couldn’t keep her legs closed.
April – Hey, Asher. Been thinking about you lately. I could use your massive cock right now. I need to blow off some steam.
And below that was a picture.
I didn’t even bother to look at it, it was either her tits, which weren’t all that great, or it was a shot of her pussy.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested in getting laid, April was a sure thing.
But... just the thought of letting another woman touch me who wasn’t a certain someone caused my balls to shrivel up.
That was probably why I exited that text thread, went to her number, and blocked it.
Another text was there from Powers.
Powers – Got a dove coming to y’all. Be there late next week.
Me – Got it. We’ll be ready.
Me – Status?
While I waited for him to text me back, I looked at the other messages.
Declan – This motherfucker happens to venture into your area, show him what’s what.
I studied the picture.
Me – What did the fucker do?
Declan – Thought it would be hilarious to stick a sign that read ‘retarded’ on Chelsea’s back at school today.
I nodded, then sent the picture in a group chat, telling them to keep their eyes peeled.
Me – Got it.
My phone vibrated in my hand.
Powers – 8.
That meant that the woman had gotten the hell beaten out of her, and the court system had failed her. Utterly. Rat bastards.
Princess – I’m running late.
Princess – Shit. No, I’m not. I’m good.
Princess – You must be in church. Come find me when you’re done. Love you.
I couldn’t help but snicker at my girl.
Chloe – Total was $47.98. Got your change.
I shook my head at that girl.
If I ever heard of anyone calling Chloe a gold-digger, I was knocking their teeth down their throat.
Me – Keep the change, Chloe.
Chloe – Asher, that’s not right. I really don’t mind.
Me – Chloe, I know you're independent. Admire it. But. Keep. The. Fucking. Cash.
Chloe – Okay. Fine. Thank you. There was a new pair of shorts that caught my eye.
Me – Bring me the change.
That was when I heard her tinkling laughter, and when I looked up, it was to see her pocketing her phone as she carried a dish outside.
The party went off without a hitch.
Beer. Whiskey. Moonshine. You name it, we had it. It flowed into everyone’s cups.
The food was fucking perfect.
And I may or may not have eaten a little bit of the food.
Only to leave plenty of fucking room for the food that Chloe made.
And that was why I was sitting here, beside Stella, watching as Chloe gathered her trash and stood, then walked over to the trash can.
It hadn’t gone unnoticed that she barely talked to Stella or me the entire time we ate.
And it also hadn’t gone unnoticed that the smiles she was usually so frequent to give were hard to pull out.
Once Chloe was far enough away, I looked at Stella, “Chloe, alright?”
She nodded, “Yeah, why?”
“Don’t know. Something ain't right.” I said as I watched Chloe move around the courtyard, moving the empty dishes and making room for more.
Stella looked away from me, then at Chloe, and said, “She said she had a good day at work, so I don’t know. But she has seemed kind of off. I’ll go talk to her.”
I shook my head, “Nah. I got it. You need to finish those videos on that technique you’ve been trying to nail.”
She grinned, “Are you going to let me practice on the boys?”
I stood up and looked down at her, “You want to be visiting me through a plate glass window while I wear nothing but orange because one of them accidentally touched you?”
She giggled, then shook her head, “Nope.”
I tapped her nose, “Didn’t fucking think so.”
Being the kind of man I was... I didn’t delay in walking over to where Chloe was moving the dishes around to make room for more.
Because even though everyone had finished eating, give it half an hour and the food would be attacked once again.
The moment I reached her, my hand snaked out and curled around her bicep.
Electric shocks went up my arm.
Her head whipped around, and for a moment, her gaze softened... then... in the blink of an eye, it was gone, and her expression became guarded.
What the fuck?
That caused me to lift my brow and ask, “Chloe, everything okay?”
She nodded, “Yeah, Pres. All good.”
I lifted a brow at her, “Didn’t know you were a brother.” I teased.
Usually, she would smile at that.
But she didn’t.
“Since when did I stop being Asher to you?” I asked her.
It had taken years, and I mean fucking years, for her to stop calling me Mr. Hendrix.
She shrugged.
Oh no. That wouldn’t fucking do.
“Chloe, what’s going on?” I asked.
My eyes stared intently down into hers.
For the briefest of moments, her cheeks pinkened.
Then she looked away, and in a soft voice I had to strain to hear, she said, “It’s nothing. Please, let it go.”
Like fuck. I wouldn’t let a goddamned thing go when it came to her, “Chloe...”
“Pres. Phone call.” I heard Whit say.
I squeezed her bicep gently, then said, “Chloe, talk to me.”
She shook her head, her eyes coming to mine for a minute, then flickering away, “You need to answer that call, Pres.”
I bit back a growl at her calling me that a-fucking-gain.
“Chloe,” I said.
She didn’t look up at me. She just stood there staring down at the tops of her shoes.
What I wouldn’t give to have the fucking right to place my fingertip underneath her chin, and lift her head, cause fuck, but I wanted to see those mesmerizing green eyes of hers.
It almost felt as though my day didn’t start unless I got a look at those beauties.
Perhaps that was why I had cropped a picture of her and Stella when they were both eighteen.
I cropped it so the only thing I saw was Chloe’s eyes.
Sighing, when she still didn’t look at me nor speak, I said, “I’ll stand here all goddamned day until you tell me what’s wrong. You don’t tell me; I can’t fucking fix it.”
“Asher. Phone, brother.” Whit was at my side now.
Not taking my eyes off Chloe, I said, “I’ll call whoever it is back.”
Whit started to say, “Ash...”
“Whit. Go. The. Fuck. Away.” I growled.
My eyes never once left Chloe’s face.
Fuck, but what I wouldn’t give to throw her over my shoulder and carry her to my office, press her body into the wall, and feel all that softness pressed to my hard body.
But she wasn’t ready for that.
And we weren’t there.
Yet.
“Pres. It’s nothing. Okay. Please. Just let it go.” She said, her temper starting to get the best of her.
She tried to take her arm from my hand, but I held on, still gently, because I would be damned if I ever caused a bruise to form on her skin.
She growled like a cute little tiger cub. Fuck. Me.
And when I didn’t move nor let go of the hold I had on her, her head shot up, her sage green eyes sparking with fire.
“I asked you to let it go. Jesus Christ, can’t I process things in my own dang time?” She snapped.
I hid the grin.
Because I fucking loved when she let her temper loose.
It wasn’t that often, and that was a goddamned shame.
But... then again... maybe it wasn’t.
Because I didn’t want anyone else to see this side of her.
On a bad day, Chloe was a thirteen.
On a good day, she was a twenty-six.
And when her temper was unleashed, that woman was a fucking sixty-eight.
“It’s none of your business. You're not related to me. You’re not fucking me. Therefore, I don’t owe you a freaking thing.” And with that, she tore her arm from my grasp and stomped away from me.
While all that was taking place, Whit came over to my side, “I ever spoke to you that way, you’d chop my balls off.”
I didn’t take my eyes off Chloe’s retreating form when I said, “Then feed them down your throat.”
Stella came over to my side and asked, “What happened? The last time she stormed away from you, you had berated her for wearing those short shorts. Even though it was closing in on a hundred and five degrees that day.”
I shook my head at her, “No clue. She wouldn’t tell me.”
And with that, I walked away and headed to my office to do something that I had no business in doing.
Yes, I had gotten hard when I saw Chloe after I exited church.
And yes, I had stayed hard while we ate.
But I had become rock fucking hard after she flashed that temper at me and then stormed away.
Her hips swayed with every stomp.
Fuck me, but I wanted to take a bite out of her ass.
The moment the door closed behind me, I threw the lock.
Undoing my belt, my button, my fly, I pulled my dick from its confines, wrapped my hand around it, gripped it hard, and then started to stroke.
And all I had to bring to focus was that fucking blush of hers.
I came faster than a virgin kid who was being laid by the top-rated porn star in the nation.
My head was resting against the door as I tried to calm my breathing.
If I came that hard from a hand job from my own fucking hand, how would it feel when I finally thrust my cock into her welcoming heat?
I know... I needed to have a plot picked out and my headstone at the ready.
It was hours later after I cleaned myself up and my mess, that I was sitting in my office chair once I knocked out some paperwork and called Marquez back on an order he wanted to place for weapons and ammo.
That fucking blush.
I couldn’t get it off my mind.
And what was more were the words she had spoken to me.
‘It’s none of your business. You're not related to me. You’re not fucking me. Therefore, I don’t owe you a freaking thing.’
I sat back in my chair, taking a puff off the cigar.
It was a special moment.
The second special moment in my life.
But I had a decision to make.
However, before I made that decision, there was someone I needed to find because I would be damned if I put Chloe through that.
But just like everything regarding Chloe, I didn’t know if I could do that.
And my decision?
I told her I would wait for her.
And I fucking would.
But she didn’t grasp how deep my feelings ran for her.
I had told her a few things that would clue her in... but I didn’t know if I could spend the rest of my days watching her from afar, keeping her safe.... but I knew that I would.
If my feelings weren’t returned, that was exactly what I would be doing.
All I needed was the smallest chance that her heart knew what it truly felt for me.
All he needed was one spark from her.
I could work on the rest.
After all, she was the one who started that spark in me. I wasn’t fucking her.
I’d done a lot of things in his life.
Taken a lot of lives.
And none of them I regretted.
But I knew that nothing in my life, so far, would ever be as hard as fighting for the one woman who was the other part of my soul.
Good thing I was ready for the fight.
And with that, I took one more puff from my cigar and fucking smiled.
Chloe
I knew Asher wouldn’t let me get away with not answering him.
And I hated how smart he was.
But then again, it was one of the things I adored about him.
But I couldn’t tell him about the dream I had a few days ago and everything it entailed.
I just couldn’t.
I’d been secretly in love with that man for years. Almost a decade.
But... I loved Stella more.
She was the best friend a girl could ever ask for.
And there was nothing I would ever do to ruin that friendship.
After that dream, distancing myself wasn’t going to work.
It hadn’t been working.
And since I couldn’t afford to move to the other side of the country... there was only one thing I could do...
Asher
I was fit to be tied.
Had I not gone the way I went, coming back to the clubhouse from grabbing a few things at the store, then I never would have seen what I did.
And I was seeing red.
And I knew everyone saw it.
They were all keeping a wide berth away from me.
Sitting in a chair at the corner table in the clubhouse, I kept my eyes trained on the door.
Waiting.
Because I knew that Stella and Chloe were on their way here.
How dare she allow another man to touch her?
How dare she allow another man in a breathable atmosphere.
Half an hour later, when the door finally opened and I saw her, I stood up and stormed over to her, and without a care, I asked, “Who was that man I saw you at the restaurant with?”
Stella froze while she was digging in her bag for something, and Chloe scrunched her brows, then she asked, “What man?”
And through gritted teeth, I said, “The man you were looking all cozy with at the Backyard Grill.”
Chloe shook her head, then whispered, “I have no idea. Truly, who are you talking about?”
I snapped, “The fucking man in the black polo shirt. The fucking man who had his hand on your shoulder. The fucking man who smiled at you. And the fucking man you gave a certain smile to.”
“Oh,” she said in a hushed whisper and then did something I never thought she would do.
“Oh? Who the fuck was he, Chloe?” I asked.
And I wouldn’t be asking her again.
One way or another, I was going to get the answer out of her.
And if it was what I suspected... then I was going to hunt the bastard down and rip his hand from his body.
The same hand he had used to touch the one person who was untouchable unless it was by me.
And when she opened her mouth and said the words she had, I was on a date ... I had no choice.
Fuck.
I was adding another black mark to my soul.
And I didn’t care. Not one single fucking bit.