16. Jade
Jade
Two weeks have gone by since I saw… him.
Two weeks since I’ve stayed at the dorms. I’m just… I don’t know what I want to do yet. Every night I say I’m going to make a plan, and every day I get swept up in other things.
I’ve been sleeping at Asher’s. It’s close enough to campus that it’s a brisk twenty-minute walk back to the apartment or ten minutes to the shop. Not that Asher has ever let me walk alone; he is always driving me or walking with me. He’s been overprotective these days, but I’m very grateful.
Asher’s amazing, and he has done nothing to suggest he feels like I’ve overstayed my welcome. I feel like I am, though; like I’m taking advantage of my boyfriend’s generosity. But he hasn’t asked me to leave or even hinted at it. Every afternoon when I’m done with classes, I walk to the shop and get the apartment keys from him, and every time he smiles brightly and gladly hands them over.
It’s very domestic, and I’m quickly getting addicted to it.
Sometimes I take the keys and head back to the apartment so I can study in silence, and sometimes I hang out at the shop. Roxie’s always asking my opinion on her designs and chats with me about everything and anything. Ty is still warming up to me, but I’ve learned that being standoffish to anyone but Roxie is part of his personality.
I’m seated at the front desk, my sketchbook under my fingers for the first time in a long time, and I’m letting my feelings dictate my artwork. My pictures always have floral undertones, depth beneath the flowers. Pain under the beauty.
Each stroke of my pencil feels like another string of stress being released and burned from my system.
Why did I ever stop this?
I’m so focused, so lost in my piece, I hardly register that there’s someone standing in front of me until a hand comes down, smacking the counter.
“Hello?” a guy snaps rudely. “I’ve been standing here for five minutes and you haven’t even had the decency to look up. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize…” I apologize, but I should’ve known this kind of guy wouldn’t let it go. He’s probably a few years older than me, but younger than Asher. A real wannabe-looking guy who’s trying too hard to look effortless. He’s got a gold hoop in one ear and a toothpick hanging from the corner of his mouth like he’s some kind of knock-off mafia gangster. And his attitude matches. Unfortunately.
“You’re damn right you didn’t realize. I’ve been coming here for years and you just ignore me? How dare you.” He looks past me and points at someone. “Ty, man. Help me out over here.”
A grunt tells me that Ty’s already not okay with the interruption, and the whole situation makes me nervous. “Ty, I didn’t see him, I’m sorry,” I stutter.
“It’s not your fault, Jade,” he says flatly, putting a hand on my shoulder before turning to look at the customer. “Yes, Sean?”
“I want her dealt with. She’s obviously not very good at her job.” The mafia-wannabe leans forward and grabs my arm roughly. I freeze.
Ty immediately grabs Sean’s hand and twists his wrist—hard—in a way that looks painful. Sean’s head hits the counter as he tries to lessen the angle that’s causing the pain.
Ty looks down on him, his eyebrows raised, and he growls more fiercely than I’ve ever heard him speak. “You piece of shit, you think you can touch her?”
I cover my mouth to stifle my whimpers as Sean cries out in pain while Ty twists his arm more. But Sean sticks to his guns.
“You heard me!” He hollers. “She ignored a customer and she should be dealt with. Where’s the owner?”
“I’m a co-owner and I say get the fuck out!” Ty snaps angrily. Sean’s eyes widen and his mouth opens in shock as he realizes what he’s done.
Asher comes up behind me, crosses his arms over his chest and sounds very professional to meet Ty’s aggressiveness. “I’m the other owner. What the fuck is going on?”
Ty releases Sean’s arm and I’m still frozen in fear.
Why do men keep aggressively grabbing me? Why do men think they can do this shit to me? How do I make it so they never think it’s okay again?
“Throw him out, Ashe,” Ty growls and cusses at him in Spanish.
“What the fuck, Ty? We have a session in twenty-five minutes, I’ve already paid my deposit!” Sean snaps angrily, which makes me step backward, hitting Asher’s chest.
“I’m going to ask one more time. What the fuck is going on?” Asher’s voice booms as he notices my reaction, and I shrink. His hands go to my hips, moving me gently behind him so I’m not at the forefront of this conversation.
“I’ve been standing here, waiting for that bitch to notice, so I can check in and sign the paperwork. But she was too involved with her stupid little sketches. She ignored me. I want her to be talked to,” Sean sneers and looks between Asher and Ty, then looks me in the eye with all the hate in the world. How does someone hate another person they don’t even know?
“Ah,” Asher says, nodding. “I see.”
“Yeah, you have some dumbass employee who can’t even do the bare minimum. You should drop the dead weight.” Sean keeps talking, like it's common knowledge I’m an idiot.
Maybe I am.
“Although, I can see why you both would want to keep her around.” His eyes snake down over my body and I step closer into Asher’s back. “She’s easy on the eyes. Especially in that shirt of hers.”
I look down and fiddle with the end of Asher’s oversized shirt I’d borrowed, realizing it’s so long it’s covering the shorts I’m wearing. Sean’s eyes linger at the hemline and he bites his lower lip, like he’s considering changing his mind and hitting on me instead of complaining.
And people think women are ruled by their emotions. Jesus Christ.
“If you don’t do something about him, I will,” Ty hisses darkly. His chest heaves with anger, and it’s obvious he wants to handle this. With his fists. I don’t think Sean would survive.
Asher takes a moment. His back tenses and his hand curls into a fist at his side. I can feel the struggle within him on how he wants to react versus how he should.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
“As co-owner of From The Ashes , I want to say I’ve heard your complaint and I apologize for any dissatisfaction in service. However, Ms. Henderson is not an employee and was simply sitting at the front desk, minding her own business. Something I suggest you do in the future.” Asher takes a step closer to the counter. “That being said, you are barred from coming to this shop ever again. I will refund 50% of the paid deposit, as per the contract you signed. We will keep the other 50% for the lost time in our schedule due to your cancellation.”
“I’m not fucking cancelling! I already said that!” Sean shouts, his fist hitting the counter and causing me to cry out in fear and jump. Asher puts his hand out to shield me, almost unconsciously, because once he realized I was okay, all the professionalism dropped from his face, his tone, and his energy.
“I believe that’s the most polite way of saying what is about to happen, though.” Asher’s voice is calm—eerily so. And Ty has a big, knowing smile on his face. “Now, like I said, as the owner, I’m asking you only one more time to leave.”
“This is fucking ridiculous. I’m not leaving, damn it. I paid for this tattoo, motherfucker, I’m getting it,” Sean grumbles and complains, trying to talk over Asher, but Asher simply raises his voice.
“Now, as her boyfriend ,” Asher’s words linger. Sean’s face pales and his jaw drops slightly as he realizes the mistake he made. “I’m going to do this,” Asher finishes. Reaching over the counter quickly, he grabs a handful of Sean’s shirt and punches him once. My hands fly to my mouth in shock and I hear yelling all around me.
Asher jumps over the counter and holds Sean to the ground, punching him again.
“Don’t you ever touch my girl again, do you understand me?” Asher snarls. “You piece of shit, motherfucker!” Another punch. Sean’s eyes are wide with fear as he tries to defend himself. He manages to get a punch in himself, but Asher’s too strong. Too angry.
“Stop!” I cry out, but it’s like no one can hear me. Roxie grabs my arms and helps me stay upright, but I can feel myself hyperventilating.
Asher must look back and see me close to breaking because he drops Sean’s shirt and wipes his bloody knuckles on his own shirt. “Don’t you even think about coming back here or you’ll be met with the same.” Asher spits at Sean and stands up.
“Ty, get him out of here.”
“You got it, Ashe.” Ty leans over and pulls Sean up, sneering at him the whole time. “You’re lucky it was him that popped you first. If it was me, I’d hit you so fucking hard you wouldn’t get back up.”
“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Asher comes over and holds my face in his hands gently. The same hands that were so angry and violent are now sweet and soft with me.
“You’re going to be in so much trouble,” I say, but my voice stutters. The air is starting to become harder to take in.
That guy could sue; could ruin the shop's reputation. That would affect everyone’s lives and livelihood. All because Asher felt he needed to stand up for me.
Shit. I’ve got to fix this somehow. My anxiety is racing.
I’ve got to fix this.
“I’m going to apologize,” I say, walking out of Roxie and Asher’s hold.
Asher steps in front of me, growling, “The fuck you are.” I can tell he wants to grab me to stop me from going, but he’s aware of how it might affect me after what just happened. “He said unspeakable things about you. He grabbed you. If anything, he should be crawling on his hands and knees back in here to apologize to you .”
“Asher, if he sues?—”
“He’ll be hit with a lawsuit from me, saying he was sexually harassing someone in my shop. I was defending my girlfriend from the hands of some unknown creep who got too aggressive. I have cameras and all the footage. He has no case, so don’t worry about that.” Asher takes my hands in his. “Not only that, but that fucker knows now that if he comes after me or mine, I’ll beat him up again. But he won’t be walking this time when he leaves.”
That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
“But your reputation…” I protest weakly, guilt gnawing at my throat.
Asher nods in understanding. “It might be affected. It might not. I really couldn't care less, Jade.” He looks so genuine, so sincere. But how can he feel that way when, because of me, this shop that he’s worked so hard for might be in danger? His finger curls under my chin and he lifts my face to look at his.
“I care about you. I care about how you feel. How you’re treated. Fuck everyone else.” His light eyes shine with his truth.
“Are you sure?” I whisper shakily.
“I’m more than sure.” He kisses me quickly, pulling me in for a tight hug before leaning back and holding my arm gently. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, I don’t think so.” I twist my arm to show him, and low-and-below, there’s a few bruises starting to form from that asshole’s fingertips. “Or maybe he held on tighter than I thought,” I admit meekly.
Asher’s jaw juts to the side and his eyes narrow in regret. “I should’ve taken him outside and killed him.”
“You can’t say that,” I scold quietly.
“I should’ve. But I’m sure Ty’s getting his anger out as well,” Asher says with a reserved look, and pulls me towards the backroom. He looks over his shoulder, and I see Ty walking in with an avenged look on his face as he tries to discreetly wipe red off his hand.
Asher nods to him and Ty nods back. Asher walks over to his station where there’s a male client lying on his table, his pant leg rolled up to show off where half a Captain America’s shield is tattooed on his calf. The guy pulls out one of his headphones, looking at Asher.
“Andrew, my man, I’ll be right back. I just have to get some ice for her arm,” Asher tells him and points to the backroom, all while keeping a tight grip on my hand.
“No problem, man. I saw the whole thing.” He looks at me and frowns. “I’m really sorry that happened to you.”
I give him a small nod but don’t say anything.
“I’ll be right back,” Asher tells him and we walk to the backroom. My anxiety and embarrassment are so loud that it feels like the whole shop is whispering and chatting about what happened, and my cheeks only grow redder, the guilt gnawing at me a little more.
“Sit here,” Asher says, pulling out one of the chairs for me before going to the freezer. This all feels very déjà vu from when he saved me all those weeks ago. I place my head in my hands, embarrassed and hurt again from a man who felt it was okay to touch me without my permission.
“Is it me?” I snap, my anger with how this continues to happen to me bubbling to the surface. My hands bang on the table in frustration. “Is there something about me that men can fucking pick up on that makes me an easy target? Do I need to have you tattoo ‘fuck off’ on my forehead for guys to get the picture?” Pushing away from the table, the chair under me knocks over. “Is this shit always going to happen? Seriously, Asher, what is it about me that men look at and say ‘She looks like a fucking weakling and I’d like to hurt her ’?”
“Jade,” Asher says softly, walking over to where I’m pacing with an ice pack in hand. “Stop,” he tells me gently, touching my shoulder kindly and turning me to face him.
“What’s wrong with me?” I brokenly ask him.
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, darlin’. Not a single thing.” He puts the ice pack on the spot where the bruises mark my skin. “I can tell you right now that those guys, they’re not real men. Real men will stand up for those who need it. Real men protect others. Real men are respectful and fucking kind. This stuff, it has nothing to do with you and it’s more about their character. I’m just sorry that they’ve taken it out on you.” Asher cups my chin and tips my face up to his. “I’m so sorry, Jade.”
“What do you have to be sorry for? You’re the only, the only , good man I’ve ever met in my life,” I whisper. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t stop him before he ever got close to you. He should never have had the time to.” Asher looks down, guilt clear to see.
“That is not your fault.”
“I promised you this kind of shit wouldn’t ever happen again. And here it happened, in my own shop, with me not ten feet from you. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” His head hangs heavily and his voice cracks. Putting the ice pack down, I cup his face with my hands this time.
“Asher, do you even realize what you did for me?” I say breathlessly. “You… You punched a guy out for me. You threw him out of your shop without a second thought. You put your shop’s, and your own, reputation at stake. For me. That… You chose me first. You put me first.” I rise on my tiptoes and kiss his lips softly, chastely. But full of the love I’m feeling for him. “No one has ever put me first like that. No one. And you’ve done it since day one.” I tip my mouth up in a shy grin. I know right then that I love him. I’m in love with him.
Asher nods, the guilt still present in his eyes and I know it’s going to take a while for him to forgive himself, even if I don’t think there’s anything to forgive.
“I’ll always choose you. I’ll always put you first. I swear it.”
The way he says those words, it’s like a vow and I gasp under my breath.
“I know,” I say, because I do. I trust him. He’s my person, my safe place, my new home. I take a deep breath and move my hands from his face to his hands, threading our fingers together. “It’s one of the reasons why I love you.”
Asher’s eyes widen almost comically, his mouth opening with shock. When he doesn’t immediately say anything, I cringe.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck, fuckity-fuck fuck. Goddamn it!
I said it too soon. He doesn’t feel the same way. I fucked this all up.
How quickly can I get out of here?
Where’s the door?