Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
IVY
Thirty thousand feet above nothing, and if I fell from it right now it still wouldn’t match the constant spiral in my belly every time my eyes catch Asher.
Even now, asleep with his hood pulled low enough to hide his face, he’s got my organs on free-fall.
Stupid. Contaminated.
His breathing is in sync with mine. It used to be comforting to fall asleep on his chest, but now all I can think of is the bullet I put there.
I scroll my phone, switching between playlists I’ll never actually open, thumb hovering over one titled “For When You Fuck Everything Up.”
Seems appropriate.
Outside the window, clouds spread flat. We’re somewhere over the Atlantic, heading toward Désamour, toward Nonna, and my stomach knots over how he’s going to behave.
Will she get the Asher who took care of me, or the one who looks through me like I’m not even there?
I pull my knees to my chest in the leather seat, and there it is, the faint kickback of my gun. Smell the wet-iron reek of it. See his blood on my hands.
Why the fuck couldn’t I remember that I loved him.
Spotify blurs through the burn of my vision, but I fight the tears that threaten to spill.
Asher shifts in his sleep, jaw going tight. Even unconscious he’s violence-ready, and that’s because of me. I did this. Turned him from prince to villain.
The pilot hits the cabin intercom. “Beginning our descent into Désamour. Twenty minutes to landing.”
He peels his eyes open, that blue-white stare on mine across the cabin, and my ribs lock.
Minutes pass, or maybe seconds, then the jolt of landing breaks the stare-down.
Désamour’s airstrip runs gray and wet under February drizzle.
Home.
Only, when the word passes through me, I feel nothing.
Daniel and Sinead are already posted at the cars as we slow to a stop.
Why the fuck is he still looking at me like that?
His thumb skims over his lower lip, focus still on me. “You look worried.”
I dig my nails into my palms. “I am.”
“Well don’t be.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “My performance will be almost as good as yours.”
My mouth drops open. “Asher.”
Swinging a duffle over his shoulder, he stands to his full height. “What? Isn’t that what we do now?”
He kicks the door open. “Perform. Play our parts.” A rough laugh slips out of him. “Since we’re both such good fucking actors.”
He gives me no room to answer, already heading out the exit.
My performance will be almost as good as yours.
We turn onto a dirt road, and I feel myself slowly relax. Vines wind up the weathered walls, the house rising from the roll of mountains. We stop outside, and Daniel heads straight for the trunk.
I shove my door open.
Gravel crunches under my boots as I step into the old driveway. It’s been years since I’ve been back here, yet it feels like yesterday that I left.
Shivers wrack through me and I run my hands up and down my arms. Colder than I remember, yet warmth still exists here and I’m guessing it has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with who’s inside.
Asher closes his door with a thud and rounds my side, his face completely blank.
Daniel lifts my duffel. “You good?”
“I’ll be fine,” I say, but my smile falls a second too early.
The front door swings open before we reach it, and Nonna steps out with a bright smile. “Ma petite!”
I walk straight into her arms. “Nonna,” I breathe.
She smells of jasmine and silver. Like home.
Her hands cup my cheeks, her hazel eyes softening as she studies me. “You look tired, chérie.”
I sigh, squeezing her grip. “I’m fine.”
She kisses my forehead, smiling like she knows better. “Liar.”
Turning, she looks at the stranger I dragged to her door. “And you must be...”
“Asher.” He dips his head, kissing her knuckles with a small smirk. “Enchanté, Madame.”
Bastard. I see what he’s doing.
She clicks her tongue. “Un vrai gentleman.” Waving us toward the hall, she adds, “Come, come inside.”
Asher follows her in, his shoulders stiff as he scans the room. The place is old, but Nonna keeps it tidy. Ornate frames with chipped edges cover the walls, and the floors are in desperate need of a fresh coat of varnish.
My stomach grumbles as the smell of braised meat drifts through from the kitchen.
“Ah.” Nonna catches my look as Asher moves around the room. “Food will come, but first. Wine.”
She steers us to the kitchen, clay pots stacked beneath bundles of dried herbs hung from beams. This has always been Nonna’s home base. I wonder why none of us thought to come back here more often.
Nonna stirs the largest pot on the stove. “Asher. Grab us down some glasses.”
He flips the first cabinet open and does as he’s told, placing them on the counter.
She pops a cork off a bottle of Pinot, eying Asher with a smirk. “You’re rather impressive on a snowboard, Mr. Jameson. Tell me, is that a family trait?”
He hesitates, and I swirl the liquid around the glass.
“I guess you could say that.” His mouth splits into a wide smile.
All the air leaves my lungs. I hadn’t realized how badly I missed that smile until now.
I swallow a gulp of wine to drown the butterflies in my belly.
He leans forward and locks onto Nonna like she’s the only person in the room. Asher is good at that. At making you feel like you mean something to someone. The thought hollows me out.
More wine.
“You watched me?” Asher blinks, darkness lifting from his shoulders for the first time in… forever.
They must’ve been talking Winter Games while I was off ruining my own life in my head.
Nonna chuckles. “Of course. When Ivy told me who she was...” The corner of her mouth tilts up. “...smitten with. Well. I had to pay very close attention.”
I grip the stem of my glass. “Nonna!”
Nonna pats my cheek, completely unbothered. “What? Now, now. You and I both know that’s the least I could do.”
She’s playing right into Asher’s hands, and he has no idea she’s doing it on purpose.
He laughs, settling against the counter like his body already knows it belongs there.
Nonna winks at him. Fucking winks.
“He makes physics his bitch, Ivanya, that is impressive.”
I scrub a hand over my face and try not to smile. “Jesus, Nonna.”
She refills our glasses and turns back to Asher. “Tell me about the switch method. I don’t understand how you generate that rotation.”
He plants one palm on the counter and breaks down edge control and weight distribution. When his arm stretches over my chair, I freeze, the hairs along my neck lifting.
Nonna asks smart questions, cutting straight to the parts that matter. He meets her there, voice steady, hands moving, the stiffness in him loosening with every answer.
This is who he was, who he could have stayed if I hadn’t fucked him.
Nonna taps my wrist with a spoon and drags me back. “Ivy? Show Asher to your room, ma petite. You both need rest before dinner.”
He nods toward the stairs. “Lead the way, Venom.”
I step onto the narrow staircase with his heat at my back as I direct us up to my childhood bedroom.
It’s like walking through time. Pink and teal paint is chipped over the walls from where I’d rip down old posters I outgrew, leaving only the pressed flowers hanging in frames. They were my constant reminder to care for things after they die.
My feet carry me to the wooden bench seat below the large window.
Random quotes from the Codex are carved into the wood. Mainly the ones I struggled to learn.
The body keeps score of violence. Learn its language before you speak it.
Memories flash through my head.
Jord quizzing me and throwing chocolate in my mouth every time I got it right.
Leon teaching me how to break someone without touching them. He’d stay patient, making me do it again until my eyes stopped giving me away.
Asher sets down the bags and takes in the room, his fingers dragging over the photos tucked into my mirror. Jord and me at sixteen. Luce and me shooting. Leon and Punk laughing at something dumb.
Neither of us speaks.
“Funny.” I drag my thumb over the grooves carved into my bedpost. “The thought of ever bringing a boy into this room never crossed my mind.”
He glances over, brows lifted slightly. His jaw loosens as he starts to speak, then he clamps his mouth shut.
I keep moving, letting the room settle my head.
Tracing the edge of the picture frame, I whisper, “Nonna saved me. After...”
The words fade in my mouth.
I turn to meet his stare. “Asher.”
He steps past me, reaching for the door. “Don’t.”
He stops with his hand on the frame. “I need to shower before dinner.” Keeping his back to me, he lifts his chin. “She’s exactly what I pictured, by the way. When you talked about her.”
Then he’s gone.
I stare at the empty space and the ground shifts under my feet. I know how we got to this point, but it doesn’t make it sting any less.
The old pipes groan when he finally turns on the shower.
Focus. Stay focused. I need to distract myself with something before I go in there and make him hate fuck me until he forgives me, so I start unpacking.
By the time I make it downstairs, Nonna is at full speed. Pots clatter, garlic and rosemary thickening the air.
She points a wooden spoon at the cutting board without looking up. “Chop.”
Reaching for the knife, I chop without rhythm.
Her hip bumps mine as she grabs the olive oil. “Tu es impossible.”
I let the French come easy, nudging her back with my elbow. “Non, tu es impossible.”
Switching to English, she grabs carrots.
“You were such a pain in the ass growing up.” She side-eyes me.
“Every new member that walked through that door, you refused to listen to their introductions. Even if it came from me. You would say ‘I don’t believe words, I believe silence, because silence doesn’t care who is listening. ’”
I snort and drag the peeler along a potato. “I still believe that.”
“Oh, I know.” Pride warms her face as she drops the carrots into the pot, but her smile slips a little. “I definitely know that.”
Asher leans against the doorframe at the edge of my vision, watching me.
I suck in a breath.