Chapter 42 Asha
ASHA
As soon as Torin left, I scanned the crowd for Rook.
Since my arrival, the crowd had grown, and I had to peer through gaps between people to spot him talking to Orla and Aidan near the bar.
“Well, if it isn’t little Miss Sparks,” a man called out behind me.
Every nerve ending screamed before my brain caught up. The scent of cigarette smoke and beer, the too-loud TV in the motel room next door, a faded duvet.
Greg Holbrook.
My blood turned to ice.
He stepped in front of me. “I don’t believe it. Of all the places to run into you.”
I hadn’t seen him in years, but my body remembered everything.
His rough, greedy hands shoving under my skirt and yanking at my panties, him forcing himself inside me.
I’d told him to stop. Tried to push him away. But he’d been too strong, and I’d panicked.
Once I’d realized I couldn’t escape, I’d just…quit fighting. Shut my eyes. Gone someplace else until he was done with me.
“What are you doing here?” I hated how scared I sounded. I needed to toughen the fuck up.
He ran his tongue across his upper lip, and a shiver of revulsion crawled down my spine. “Used my connections to land an invite. I heard Torin Lynch himself is supposed to make an appearance. He’s a tough man to pin down for a quote.”
I chose not to throw Torin under the bus by telling Greg he’d missed him by twenty seconds. But if it would make Greg leave, maybe I should.
“Why are you here?” he asked, as if I were the last person who belonged on this rooftop.
All words left my already scrambled brain as I stumbled over what to say.
Greg carried on without waiting for an answer. “You’re not back in journalism, are you? I didn’t think anyone would touch you after you ruined your chances.”
This son of a bitch. How dare he?
Something snapped inside me.
“Ruined my chances?” I sneered. “You assaulted me.”
“Keep your voice down.” Greg’s expression turned menacing.
“I gave you an opportunity, and you blew it. We could’ve been friends.
I could’ve introduced you to the right people and boosted your career.
All you had to do was spread your legs for five goddamn minutes.
But no. You had to run away after and threaten to tattle like a little girl.
A reporter needs to be made of stronger stuff than that. ”
My stomach turned at his tone, his aggression. At his complete lack of remorse.
I hadn’t gone to the police. I’d already seen too many victims chewed up by the system. Their sex lives paraded through court. Their motives questioned. Their clothing blamed.
I’d planned to talk to HR. Instead, they’d hauled me in first and fired me. That bastard Holbrook had made me out to be a manipulator by telling HR I was going to accuse him of rape if he didn’t help me get a promotion.
No one believed me over The Inquirer’s superstar reporter with a trophy case full of awards.
It sickened me to this day that he’d gotten away with it.
“Still targeting young female colleagues, Greg?”
He stepped closer, and I inched back, but not before his sour whiskey breath slammed into me. “Only ones smart enough to keep their mouths shut.”
His words hit me like a punch. For years, I’d hoped I’d been his only victim, but deep down, I’d known that wasn’t the case. And now, I saw his behavior for what it was. A tested routine. A sickening hunt.
Every woman who thought being noticed by him was a compliment. Every intern who assumed his mentoring was a boon. The thought of him doing to them what he’d done to me had bile rising up my throat.
I folded my arms and forced my voice to stay steady. “I’m sure the world would love to know all about that.”
He only laughed at my threat. “You think I’m intimidated by some washed-up has-been? No, Asha. Your name is mud.” He stared me down. “And hasn’t anyone told you? Me Too is dead. No one cares what happened to you in that motel room, and no one’s going to do anything about it.”
My skin crawled. He was right about one thing. The system hadn’t cared then, and it sure as hell didn’t care now. That familiar helplessness rose like prickles underneath my skin, the same panic I’d buried years ago.
But I wasn’t that girl anymore.
My lip curled. “You disgust me. Fuck off before I make you regret we ever crossed paths.”
I turned to leave.
“Cunt,” Greg barked, and grabbed my wrist. His fingers dug into my skin as he spun me to face him. “Don’t turn your back on me.”
“Take your hand off my wife or lose your fucking arm.”
Rook’s voice cut through the air behind me, low and lethal. The moment I felt his warmth at my back, the panic in my chest loosened its grip.
It wasn’t just fury in Rook’s tone. It was devotion. A vow that I wasn’t alone in this anymore.
And, God help me, I’d never been happier to have an Irish mobster for a husband.
“Wife?” Greg’s eyes went wide, aimed high at the wall of wrath behind me. He let go of my wrist as if it’d burned him. “I didn’t know.”
Rook’s arm curled around my waist, palm splayed over my stomach. “I can see that. Not that it should matter. What gives you the right to touch any woman like that?”
“You’re right. My mistake. I think it’s best I leave.”
“Aye, you will.” Rook’s voice turned ice-cold. “My cousin here will help you with that.”
Aidan appeared behind Greg like a vengeful shadow, a full head taller and twice as broad. He clasped the back of Greg’s neck with one tattooed hand in a way that could almost look friendly if it weren’t for my abuser’s terrified expression.
“Red.” Aidan nodded and gave me a smile that was equal parts serial killer and panty melting. “Thanks for giving me a friend to play with. I was getting bored.”
“Before you take him away, he has an apology to make,” Rook said.
“If we can just talk about this. There’s been a misunder—” Greg’s face twisted in pain, and Aidan grinned. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he sputtered.
Rook bristled behind me, and his chest expanded against me with the deep breath he inhaled. “Not to me, you fucking prick. To my wife.”
Greg didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Asha—”
“That’s Mrs. O’Connell to you, asshole,” I snapped. “Show my husband and me some respect.”
Rook’s hand tightened on my belly in approval.
I’d never thought I’d wear that name with pride. But if it made Greg piss himself, I’d wear it like a crown.
Greg’s hands shook. “I’m sorry, Mrs. O’Connell. It won’t happen again.”
“Get him out of here,” Rook said. “I’ll be with you soon.”
Aidan winked at me, looking far too entertained by what was about to happen, then led Greg off the terrace.
Rook turned me gently and cupped my face in his palm while one thumb traced a path over my cheek.
Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his waist, craving him nearer. The weight of his support undid me. I’d never felt safer, more protected.
He tilted my chin up. “Are you okay?”
“I am now.”
“How do you know him?”
“From when I worked at The Inquirer.”
A murderous growl rumbled in his chest. “I’m going to ask you something important, and I need you to be honest.” His eyes searched mine. “Aside from what that bastard did to you tonight, has he hurt you before?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
Rook’s lips thinned like he understood. “I thought so.”
Maybe my trauma was written all over my face, or maybe he’d seen enough predators to recognize one.
“Stay with Orla and Finn while I handle this, okay?”
“Okay.”
He dipped low and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. “You’ve been brave tonight. I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” I hesitated. “What are you going to do to him?”
“You know the answer.”
“You don’t have to do that for me.”
“Let me make this clear, love. I already know where I’m putting his body. The only thing left is deciding how much pain I put him through before he spends eternity in hell.”
Greg had two ex-wives but no kids. Maybe someone would mourn him, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that the world would be a better place without him in it.
When I thought about the torment Greg had caused me, the humiliation, the sleepless nights, and the years of self-loathing over letting him get away with it, rage coiled tight inside me.
What angered me most was his entitlement. Like women’s bodies were his to take, and there wasn’t a damn thing we could do about it.
Until now.
I met Rook’s gaze. “Make him suffer.”
His mouth curved, beautiful and deadly. “I was hoping you’d say that.”