Chapter 37
LILY
My lids are heavy as I drag them open, slowly blinking away the grogginess.
It takes a few tries for my vision to clear, my eyes a mixture of sand and water.
I’m not expecting to find myself in a hospital room, lying in a bed with a drip running from the back of my hand up to an IV bag with clear fluid.
“Lily.”
Asher.
Turning my head slowly in the other direction, my eyes lock onto him, and a grin tugs at my lips. There he is.
His lips kick up a little at the corners in a soft grin, but it looks strained.
Something is wrong.
Frowning, I blink to see him better, noticing a smear of blood on his cheek, right under the black eye he’s sporting, as well as his puffy lip.
Was that from his fight at The Rough House? I don’t remember it being that bad.
“What happened?” I ask nervously, before movement behind Asher draws my attention, and I notice Barrett leaning against the wall.
Shit. What the hell…
“Why am I here?” I rush out, glancing down to see if my legs are still there, and relieved to see them under the sheets.
I move them to test them out, and relax when I not only feel them move, but see them move.
Shit. Why are they acting like something really bad happened to me? If it’s not my ability to walk, then what the hell is it?
“Asher?” I squeak, needing one of them to answer me.
“You don’t remember?” he asks, and I shake my head, wracking my brain.
All I find is fog.
“Why don’t you refresh her memory?” Barrett hisses to Asher, who stiffens.
“Asher?”
He straightens in his chair, clearing his throat.
“You were led into a trap,” he explains quietly, his eyes laser focused on mine. “At the old church on Shepard and Dayble. Do you remember going there?”
The old church…
Suddenly memories slam into the forefront of my mind, making me gasp.
“There were four of them,” I whisper, remembering the man at the front of the church who was not one of the MacKenzie brothers. And there were another three behind me, closing me in.
“That’s right.” Asher nods. “At least three men and maybe one woman. They wore masks over their faces.”
“Wait,” I rasp, my throat scratchy. “What do you mean, it was a trap? How do you know that?” My eyes flick from Asher to Barrett to gauge his reaction, and he looks livid.
“I know because… I was there.”
Lightning fast, my eyes are back on Asher. “What?”
“I saved you, Lil.” He leans forward on his seat. “Do you remember that?”
I glance down at his chest where there are smears of blood on his shirt as I try to search my memories. There were four of them. One I killed, but then I… got shot.
Shit, that’s right. I got shot and then they were beating me… I thought I was going to die. I was sure I was.
But then… Someone else was there.
“That was you?” I whisper, my eyes locking with his again, and he nods. “But how? Why were you there? How did you fight them off?”
Asher shifts in his chair, darting a glance over his shoulder at Barrett before returning his uneasy gaze to me.
“You wanna tell her, or shall I?” Barrett snaps, his deep voice loud in the small space.
“Tell me what?” I breathe, almost too scared to find out, given the anger lacing Barrett’s tone.
“Fuck, Lily. It was me,” Asher blurts. “I’m the one who’s been stalking your kills and sending you the pictures.”
My brow creases so intensely that it almost hurts, and I have to assume the pain doesn’t come because of the meds that are pumping through my veins.
“What?” I whisper, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.
“I sent you the envelopes, Lil.”
I shake my head, so fucking confused.
Asher is the one who sent me the envelopes containing pictures of me killing… I shake my head.
“How is that possible?”
“I’ve been following you for years, watching you kill,” he admits quietly, standing and starting to pace with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, something I haven’t seen him do since he was sixteen.
“I started taking pictures of you killing when I realised how fucking beautiful it was.” He stops pacing and faces me, his intense gaze locking back with mine.
“How fucking beautiful you are when you torture and end your victims’ lives. There’s nothing like it.”
The room falls silent for a few long beats before Asher clears his throat, his gaze locked on my expression. I can’t even control it. It morphs quickly from confused to angry with each passing second.
“I took the photos for myself at first,” he continues.
“But then, as I got older, I wanted to show you how breathtaking you are like that. I wanted you to know that I knew…” He shakes his head, his eyes dropping to the bed as he frowns.
“But how could I possibly tell you that I stumbled upon your secret? That was never going to go well. I was hoping I’d have more time to show you how good we are together before revealing that I’ve known you were the Crimson Angel for years. ”
He’s known… for years?
“But… I don’t understand. You were in prison. Who delivered the envelopes?” I ask, my head hurting from Asher’s revelation.
“My mate Gordy delivered them for me until I got out. I had them ready to go, already sealed. He never looked. Never knew what he was delivering, only that he had to remain out of sight and not get caught.” He gives his head a shake, his eyes looking distant for a moment.
“You caught me with one at your house just last week, and I pretended I found it, but really, I was about to leave it for you.”
“For the record,” Barrett butts in, moving away from the wall and coming to the end of my bed, glaring at Asher. “I don’t fucking believe you. This is too much of a coincidence. You have something to do with the hit on Lily, don’t you?”
Asher rolls his eyes. “I fucking love her. Why would I want her dead? I fucking saved her.”
Barrett shakes his head. “Did someone hire you?”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Asher snarls, his hands shooting from his pockets as they ball into fists at his sides.
“I should kill you right fucking now!” Barrett looms closer to Asher, and I tense, knowing this could turn into a bloodbath.
“Stop it!” I snap, despite the fact I’m so bloody confused.
Why would Asher do this? I just don’t understand.
“Why?” I ask him. “Why would you think sending me pictures of my kills and writing a message saying you know who I am on the back would be a good idea?” I squeak. “It was creepy, Asher. It freaked me out.”
“I… just wanted you to see what I see,” he whispers, the fight falling from his expression as his shoulders slump.
Shit. He looks so disappointed, and it fractures my heart to see him like that, but I can’t wrap my head around why he thinks that’s okay.
“So you followed me to the church?” I ask. “And single-handedly took out three of the assassins?”
He shakes his head. “Only two. One got away.”
“It’s still too much of a coincidence,” Barrett mutters, and I… I…
Shit. I don’t know what to believe. This is all just… too much.
“You need to leave,” I whisper, as tears prick the backs of my eyes and Asher’s gaze darts to mine, his brow hitching.
“Lily—”
Shaking my head, I force the words out. “Please, just leave. I need you to move out of my house.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Please be gone before I get home, or I won’t be able to stop Barrett from doing what he wants to do to you.”
“Lily, please,” he pleads, taking a step forward but stopping when Barrett’s hand whips out to stop him from getting any closer. “I have nothing to do with the hit on you, Lily. I would never do anything to hurt you. In case you missed it before… I love you.”
Tears well in my eyes as I see how much he believes his words, but he can’t love me.
Infatuated with me? Yes. But love? No.
I know this because if he knows my darkest secret, then there’s no way he can possibly love me. I’m a monster. I literally gut people for a living and enjoy it.
I am not lovable.
So he must’ve been playing me. Taunting me on purpose. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
“Please leave,” I whisper again, a tear popping free and tumbling down my cheek as I feel a stab of betrayal.
“No,” he shakes his head. “Don’t do this. I know you can feel this thing we have. We are made for each other.”
“She asked you to leave. You’d best do that before I fucking make you!” Barrett hisses, stepping between me and Asher.
With pain in his eyes, he stares at me past my cousin for a long moment before holding his hands up in surrender and takes a step back. And then another. And another.
“I’m not giving up, Angel,” he says with conviction, the word angel now hitting hard as he tugs up his shirt and slaps his hand over the tattoo of the red-haired… angel.
Shit. Why didn’t I put that together sooner?
Angel. He’s been calling me that since he got out of prison.
“I’ll show you,” he continues as he drops his shirt. “Prove we are meant to be.” And then to Barrett, he directs his next words.
“Since you’re forcing me away, you’d better fucking protect her with your life.” He stabs a finger towards my cousin. “Unlike a few hours ago, when I was the only one there to protect her.”
As Asher gives me his back, leaving as I asked him to, no amount of pain meds can take away the agony that slams into my chest and rips it wide open.
Holy shit… I’m pretty sure my heart just walked out the door.