Chapter 44 Asha
ASHA
Ididn’t stay long at the party. Just long enough to down the double shot of whiskey Orla had pressed into my hand to calm my nerves. After that, I asked Finn to take me home.
I didn’t know how long Rook and Aidan would be gone. Maybe an hour. Maybe all night. Maybe forever if something went wrong.
So I showered, spending far too long scrubbing the bruise where Greg had grabbed me, as if I could wash it away.
I pulled on a soft pair of sweats and a cami, then went digging through Rook’s closet.
I had no business wearing his clothes. But my fingers found one of his big Red Hand MMA hoodies, and I tugged it over my head anyway.
When I put my nose to it and inhaled, it smelled like him—clean, spicy, masculine.
He must’ve worn it once and returned it to the hanger.
I told myself I wore it for comfort.
Not because I wanted Rook wrapped around me.
Not because I missed him.
Finn and I sat on the sofa rewatching episodes of Schitt’s Creek. Well, he watched. I picked at the skin around my nails until it was ragged, staring at the screen but not seeing any of it.
“How long do you think they’ll be?” I asked.
Finn shrugged. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“If they’re making a deposit into the Delaware or somewhere out of town.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
I hadn’t thought about that part. What happened after.
“It’s taking a while, though,” I said. “Do you think they’re okay? Maybe we should call and—”
Finn cut me a look. “Are you worried about Rook?”
“No.” I glanced at the ring on my finger and tugged the sleeves of Rook’s hoodie down over my knuckles. “Maybe a little bit.”
He snorted. “Your man’s the most lethal bastard in Philly, matched only by Aidan, who’s right beside him. Those two can handle one gobshite journalist with their eyes closed and hands tied behind their backs.”
“But what if they get caught?”
“Caught by who?” He lifted a brow.
“I don’t know. The Feds?”
“Nah.” He shook his head. “We’ve got people in every agency. DEA, ATF, Homeland Security. Even a bloke at the IRS. We’re covered.”
The tightness in my shoulders eased. Somehow, the idea of my criminal husband being above the law was…reassuring.
What kind of person did that make me?
Finn shifted on the sofa to face me. “I’ll admit, I was kinda worried that you and the boss had rushed into getting married. Thought maybe you were a strange match. But it’s obvious you care deeply about each other.”
I let out a dry laugh. “It is?”
“Aye. He’s mad about you. And you”—he gave me a knowing look—“you act like you’re not, but you’re just as gone for him. That’s all that matters. If there’s love, the rest is noise.”
Love.
I wanted to scoff, to tear Finn’s deluded fairy tale apart with every ounce of my cynicism.
But the truth was…I didn’t know what this was anymore.
All I knew was that a man I should hate had gone off to commit murder for me, and I was sitting here wearing his hoodie like a Rook blanket, anxious for him to return.
Finn’s phone chimed.
“Is that them?” I scooched over to get a look at the screen.
“No.” He pulled the phone away and pressed it to his chest, but not before I caught a glimpse of a selfie. Plunging neckline, dark red lips, stunning smile. “Do ye mind?”
“Sorry.” What had him all sensitive? “Finn, do you have a girlfriend?”
He’d never mentioned it, but I’d never asked, either. Finn always seemed so busy with fight training and working for Rook that I figured he didn’t have time for a relationship.
“No.”
“Who was that, then?”
“None of your business. And don’t go tellin’ the boss. He needs to know I’m focused on my job.”
“So you do have a girlfriend.”
“Jaysus, no. She’s just a friend.”
“A very pretty friend.”
Finn scraped a hand down his face. “Christ almighty.”
Before I could tease him more, the elevator dinged.
I stood, heartbeat wild. And then he appeared.
Rook.
A little ruffled, a little tired, but in one piece, and that was all I cared about.
Seeing him like that snapped everything into focus.
Oh God.
I had feelings for Rook. Real feelings. The kind that led you to make dumb choices and risk getting your heart shredded.
But…me? Falling for a gangster? My stalker? Hell, falling for anyone? What warped alternate universe were we living in?
Maybe it didn’t matter that we’d gotten here through his manipulation, deceit, and coercion. Maybe all that mattered was that I wanted Rook. Not just his body. Not just his mind-blowing orgasms. But him.
The selfless, protective, generous parts. Even the bossy, violent, maddening parts.
Because Rook was never just one of those things.
He was my devil and my guardian angel. He was my tormentor and the one who made everything better. He was the most dangerous man I knew and the only one I wanted keeping me safe.
He made me question every moral I stood for.
But I was so sick of guilt-tripping myself over my feelings for Rook.
Maybe it was time to embrace my villain era.
Or maybe I just needed to embrace my villain.
We stared at each other for a beat before Rook said, “Get your arse over here.”
I didn’t hesitate. I ran to him and wrapped my arms tight around his torso. He caught me with equal force, one hand gripping the back of my head, the other pressing flat against my spine as if he needed me close to breathe.
He pulled back just enough to search my face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You?”
“Better now.”
Why did that make my chest ache?
I glanced down. “You have blood on you.”
“Not mine.” His hand smoothed over my back. “He can never hurt you again.”
Something inside me broke at those words. A knot in my chest that had been wound tight for years finally unraveled.
Greg Holbrook was gone.
I would never have to see his smirk, feel his hands on my skin, or hear his voice again. And no other woman would, either.
“Thank you,” I whispered, throat thick with emotion.
“It was my pleasure to make that useless shite bleed. He cried and begged for mercy. I showed him none. Your name on my lips was the last thing he heard before he fell twenty-three floors.”
“That’s fucked-up.”
“Aye. It is.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “I’ll be your monster, Asha. I’ll do all the terrible things to bring you peace. You don’t have to fight your battles alone anymore.”
Most people talked a big game about what they’d do for the people they cared about. How far they’d go, what lines they’d cross.
Rook didn’t just talk. He acted.
And what he’d done for me? You could go a lifetime and never meet someone who’d make that kind of sacrifice.
My protector. My criminal.
My dark knight in a bloodstained suit.
He cupped my face in his hands, eyes burning intensely. “Finn. Go home,” he called out without taking his gaze from me.
“Aye, Boss.” My bodyguard wasted no time in reaching the waiting elevator.
And then we were alone.
Rook brushed my hair behind my ear. “I missed you.”
I licked my dry lips. “I was worried about you.”
He gave me a crooked smile. “I’m both insulted and pleased to hear you say that. But don’t ever worry about me, love. The truth is, you’re the only one who can hurt me.” He took my hand and placed my palm over his pounding heart.
He didn’t need to explain why he’d put it there.
I studied him. The struggle in his composure. The tenderness buried beneath all that armor.
“Say it,” he demanded.
“Say what?”
“At the party, you called me your husband.” He closed his eyes. “You don’t know what hearing that did to me. So say it again, Asha. Tell me what I am to you, even if it’s a lie.”
I hesitated.
They were simple words. I could say them, and they didn’t have to mean anything.
But they did. More than I cared to admit.
And while I was having this inner moment of brutal honesty, maybe it was time to admit that some fucked-up part of me wanted this to be real.
The marriage. The relationship. The ring.
All of it.
But that was crazy.
With the roller coaster of a night I’d had, I couldn’t trust my emotions right now. Logic would prevail tomorrow, surely.
But for this moment, I could pretend. Maybe I wanted to role-play this just as much as Rook did.
I slid my fingers through his hair. “You’re my husband.”
A deep, satisfied groan came from his chest. “Aye. Keep going.”
“And I’m your wife. I’m yours. Only yours.”
His eyes flashed with something dark, something primal. “That’s right, Wildfire. You’re fucking mine. And I’m never letting you go.”
Then his lips rushed to meet my own.