Chapter 5 #2
“I’d rather not talk about last night, since it’s never going to happen again.”
“Lily, I really do hate seeing you lie to yourself.”
His mocking tone almost sends my gaze in his direction, but I hold strong, sucking in a deep breath as I shift the car into reverse.
“I’m not lying to myself,” I snap, reversing out onto the road, and shifting the car into drive.
“We both know it’s a lie,” he calls me out on my bullshit so easily. “But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll pretend to go along with it.”
I roll my eyes, accelerating the car forward faster than needed, and he chuckles.
It’s at that moment that his phone rings, and Asher takes it out of his pocket, answering the call… from my son.
For Christ’s sake.
It’s a reminder of who he is. Jude and Ronan’s best mate.
What the hell was I thinking last night?
Yes, he’s extremely attractive and unbelievably good at turning me on. And yes, I find myself extremely comfortable in his presence, even with what happened between us last night. But it doesn’t change who we are to each other. It doesn’t change the fact that what we did last night was wrong.
The drive to the salon is easy once Asher is distracted by Ronan on the phone. I zone out from listening to their discussion and force myself to calm the hell down and prepare for a busy day of clients.
Once at the salon, I park the car, dashing from the confined space and telling Asher quietly that I’ll see him later, before practically running inside The Chic Strand like a coward.
No, not like a coward. I am a coward.
A coward who’s terrified of her sons’ best mate.
How the hell did I get myself in this position?
It takes everything in me to force my thoughts away from Asher Scott to focus on my job, but somehow, I manage to do it.
My morning is busy with foiling, a full bleach and treatment, and a couple of haircuts. I use my apprentices to assist me so I can fit it all in, and by the time I take a break at lunch, I’ve only thought about Asher about a thousand times, as opposed to ten thousand.
“You feeling okay today, Lily?”
I glance up from my phone, watching Bonnie flop into the chair across from me in the staff room, her blue eyes raking over me in concern.
“I’m fine.” I smile, and she narrows her eyes.
“Liar. Has Tamara been giving you more grief?”
Tamara. Alexander’s side piece. Well, at least that’s what she was for our entire marriage, until I found out that he knocked her up and had a kid with her. It explained the large sums of money that would go missing from our bank accounts over the last few years of our marriage.
Alexander and Tamara had a thing together back in the day.
Then I came along, an Aussie tourist travelling the UK on a gap year and looking for a good time.
The arsehole cheated on Tamara with me, which I didn’t know at the time, and when I realised I was pregnant and went to him for help, his family found out, and three days later we were married and my life as I knew it was over.
Well, there was a little more to it, like the lack of assistance from my family, and basically being cast aside, but I tend to avoid thinking about that too much these days.
Nothing good ever comes from thinking about the Marx family and the man that rules over them all.
When I found out I was Alexander’s side piece at the time, I was so upset.
I ran off to the airport, trying to buy a ticket to head home despite the fact my family demanded I abort the pregnancy.
But then Alexander showed up, falling to his knees and begging me to stay.
He seemed sincere at the time. Hell, he drew a crowd and people cheered when I accepted his hand.
What a fool I’d been. So young and na?ve.
I was too dumb and caught up in the romance of it all to see that Alexander’s proposal was forced. His mother put him up to it, wanting to save the family’s reputation. That was something I didn’t find out until the twins were five years old.
It was then that I realised my marriage was a load of bullshit. Alexander had never stopped seeing Tamara. He may have come home to me most nights, but any true love and passion he saved for her.
Now, they live together, and although the twins know about her, they don’t know they have a little sister, Melanie. That’s a secret I hate carrying. One I’ve asked Alexander to reveal to them numerous times, yet the coward still remains tight-lipped about it to his sons.
Fucker!
Shaking my head at Bonnie’s question, I pick at the salad I’m pretending to eat. “I haven’t been harassed by Tamara for at least a week.”
“Then what has my Lily flower so distracted?”
I’d love to tell her about Asher. She’s always trying to find me new dates, telling me I need to get laid more. She’s especially on my case about finding a date to bring to her wedding later this year. I told her that I’m coming solo, but she refuses to accept it.
“Oh, you know… missing my boys, I guess.” It’s not a lie. I do miss them. It’s just not what has me in a state today.
Her face falls into a sympathetic smile. “I know you miss them. How about a girls’ night? I’ll be your wing woman. We can get totally sloshed.”
I laugh. “No thanks. I can’t handle hangovers like I used to. You’re too young for me to keep up with.”
“Don’t be daft.” Bonnie rolls her eyes, waving a dismissive hand at me. “There’s only seven years between us.”
“Yes, and I’m closer to forty, where you are closer to your twenties.” I grin, shaking my head. “I’m going to step out and make a call. Can you hold down the fort?”
“Deflecting won’t change my mind, Lily flower. I’m going to arrange a bevvy session. How’s this weekend?”
“I’m busy.” I beam, dashing from the table as she curses under her breath at me.
As soon as I’m out in the alley behind the salon, I open up my phone and call my cousin, Barrett.
“Lilian. How are you?”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be so damn formal.” I snicker and he chuckles.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I received another envelope,” I rush out, and Barrett remains silent for a moment before he speaks again.
“The same as usual?”
“Yes.”
“Any footage of the deliverer?” he asks, and even though he can’t see me, I shake my head.
“No. Nothing this time.”
“When did you get it?” he asks.
“Yesterday morning. It was waiting for me at the salon,” I offer, and he growls.
“And why are you only just calling me about it now?”
I roll my eyes. “I was busy yesterday. And besides, there’s nothing you can do. This arsehole has both of us stumped.”
“Hmmm. Even so.” He sighs. “Any more text messages?”
“No,” I sigh, “nothing for a few days.”
Barrett grunts at that, and I can just imagine him sitting in the dark, somewhere in the world, dressed in one of his fine suits with a glass of whisky in hand.
“I know you think the two are related, Lil, but they seem like different people to me.”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me.
“I know I haven’t had the best luck in my life, but two obsessive stalkers in the same decade is a little far-fetched.”
“The pictures have only ever hinted that they know you are the infamous killer that has local traffickers shaking in their boots,” Barrett reminds me.
“The text messages, however, are more personal, Lily. They know you’re a Marx.
They know about our family. But they haven’t once mentioned your extracurricular activities.
I’m convinced you now have two fucking stalkers.
I wish you’d let me tell your brothers. They’d—”
“No!” I snap. “Do not tell Devon or Warrick! I’ve been doing fine without them for twenty years. I don’t need them now.”
For a long moment, my cousin remains silent.
This is a constant argument we have, despite whether I have bloody stalkers.
My siblings ask about me often, apparently.
My sisters, Jen and Ell miss their big sister, and my brothers…
well, they are probably overbearing oafs like our father by now.
I can’t help but think their requests to see me are nothing more than an attempt to suck me back into the fucked up family business.
I shiver at that thought, my uncle Ewan coming to mind.
He’s such a cold, ruthless prick. It was his demand that I abort my pregnancy, which turned my parents against the idea of me keeping it. That man tries to control everything. Even the personal lives of his children, brothers, and their families.
I hate that man, and nothing will make me return to Aussie soil.
Nothing.
“Fine, but if things get worse, I’m bringing Devon over here. I don’t care if you hate me for the rest of our lives.”
“Whatever!” I snap, acting like a damn teenager and not a thirty-seven-year-old woman.
What did my therapist say all those years ago?
Oh, yeah… Trigger regression. Apparently when I get triggered, I revert back to the age I was when my trauma happened, and my brain bypasses logical adult reasoning.
That’s just great.
“You pissy at me now, Lil?” Barrett’s deep, gravelly tone eases me back to the here and now.
“No. I’m sorry. You know how I get when we discuss family.”
“I know,” he sighs. “I’ll be by later this week to take a look at the new picture.”
“You’re in the country?”
Barrett, like me, is from Australia, but he spends most of his time travelling internationally, networking and arranging business for the family.
He and my brother, Devon, taught me everything I know.
The Marx family makes sure their own can protect themselves at all costs, although there’s a bigger focus on the men doing that than the women.
“I’m nearby. I have some people I need to catch up with in the area, anyway,” Barrett states, and I momentarily worry about him coming by the house and finding Asher there.
I don’t know why. It’s not like he hasn’t seen Asher at my house before.
It’s just different now because the twins aren’t there.
And also, maybe I’m worried he’ll be able to tell that I secretly drool over my sons’ best mate.
“Have you checked out the new job I sent you?” Barrett asks when I don’t respond, so I shake myself out of my head.
“Not yet. I will after work. Is it what I hope it is?”
“It is.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
He’s sent information on Omar Bertini, the man who plays a very big part in a sex trafficking ring in the area.
“That was quick,” I state. “Is it going to be easy or hard?”
“Depends on how you want to approach it.”
“Oh, you know me,” I say flippantly. “I’ll probably go for hard.”
Barrett chuckles. “Probably.”
For a while, my mind stays away from thinking about the dark-haired, toned, and tatted man who invaded my dreams last night, my thoughts shifting to my newest job.
But then I remember that Asher is living with me, and slipping out to do my extracurricular activities is going to be harder now that he’s there.
Especially because he seems so infatuated by me.
Last night, I told him to find someone to go on a date with. It’s the right thing for him to do, but shit, jealousy courses through my veins at the thought of his hands on someone else.
I shouldn’t want his hands on me. I shouldn’t want my hands on him, but in a matter of hours they will be… when he comes in for his haircut.