Chapter 12
Ashia
Four Days Later
This could go very badly. Damien has already woken up twice, and I can't tell if anyone else is awake. Not only do I have to worry about my husband catching me, but I have to worry about my brother, too. Carter is so scared of them that it took a lot of convincing, and some bribing, to get him to help me. It didn’t take much.
I just have to get him a date with Ser. She’s totally going to kill me for it, but meddling in their relationship was necessary.
They need the push, and I need eyes tonight.
After everything that’s happened, I’m not stupid enough to go completely alone.
I’m also not na?ve enough to ask someone to go with me—especially not Damien.
He will never have to see that place again after tonight.
Zeke would help me, of course, but by ‘help,’ I mean do it for me.
There are a lot of reasons I’m doing this—most of them are for Damien, but I have a few of my own, and I don’t want anyone to know those details.
Hell, Carter doesn’t even know. He’s just aware that I’m going to burn it down.
Thank God Serena convinced me to buy some maternity leggings with pockets.
I don’t know how I could adjust the utility belt around my belly, and none of my jeans fit.
So, a knife, Damien’s lighter, and a flashlight in the pockets is about all I can manage.
Everyone is supposed to be dead, so I shouldn’t need anything else.
The new tracker in the Traverse is working, and I’ll be talking to Carter the entire time through the ear-com.
It’s a bad idea to go out alone, but it’s imperative that I take care of this—for Damien’s sake.
I grab my shoes as quietly as I can, trying like hell not to wake him up.
He’s finally in a deep sleep, with his mouth slightly parted and his arm laid out lazily across the bed.
His chest rises and falls steadily, drawing my eyes to his new tattoo.
I really shouldn’t keep thinking of it that way.
It’s not new anymore, but it’s like it is.
Every time I look at it, it hits me like he just got it done.
It’s everything. He’s always been so open about his feelings for me, and now he etched it into the sincerest part of his body. It’s hard for me not to awe over it.
“I’ll be right back, baby,” I whisper softly, barely even hearing myself.
My steps are quiet as I walk out of the bedroom, and I’m thankful that the stairs don’t creak.
The com is a little too big for my ear, so it’s a little uncomfortable when I press the button, but it’s probably best to test it out before I walk out to the car.
“Carter? Can you hear me?” I sit down in one of the armchairs and quickly attempt to put my shoes on.
“Yeah, loud and clear, Ash. Are you sure we should be doing this? D and Zeke are going to lose their shit when they find out.”
“If… You mean if.” I have to scoot to the edge of the chair and spread my legs apart just so I can bend down and slip the first shoe onto my foot.
The baby kicks and wiggles, and I chuckle to myself.
“How am I going to survive the next seventeen weeks, huh?” I ask and poke my belly, shaking my head as she kicks back.
“What are you doing?” a not-so-familiar voice asks, and I whip my head around, my heart sinking to my feet.
Victoria stands in the kitchen, with her wild hair looking even more out of place, and she’s wearing a pair of the pajamas Serena picked out for her.
She’s woken up recently, and the grogginess in her eyes only makes that more apparent.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I retort, trying to flip the conversation.
“Shit, who is that?” Carter’s tone doesn’t hide any of his paranoia.
“I woke up and wanted water. Are you going somewhere?” Victoria pinches her brows, and I snarl just a little, unwilling to hide my annoyance.
“That’s not really any of your business,” I seethe.
“Oh, shit. That’s Victoria, isn’t it? Oh, God. We're so fucked.” Carter is clearly keeping his composure very well.
“Chill out,” I whisper back to him, but don't allow my stare to wander. She narrows her eyes, like she thinks I'm losing my mind because I'm talking to myself, but I just match her expression—showing my stubbornness.
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her water before she walks back towards the stairs.
It would be a huge problem if she ran her mouth, and with how often her and Damien have been speaking, she would have plenty of chances.
That thought alone pisses me off. They have gotten friendlier over the past couple of weeks, and I hate it.
I get it, she was there. She saw what happened.
That probably gives him a sense of familiarity, as much as that sucks.
She was the one that delivered part of his pain.
Why the fuck does she just get to roam around our home? !
Wait a minute.
She’s seen it… She was the one that told me what they did to him in the first place. If I made her lead me around that old hospital, then this would go a lot smoother.
God, I hate myself for this.
“Victoria?” I call out for her as quietly as I can, only partially hoping she hears me. When she gets to the landing and turns around, the agitation on her face is still there.
“What, Ashia?”
“What are you doing, Ash?” Carter asks worriedly.
“I’m going down there.” She tenses a little at my declaration, obviously knowing what I mean, and her grip tightens around the water bottle. “You and I both know that I have unfinished business in that building, and I’m going to take care of it. It would be a lot easier if you showed me.”
“Ash, what the hell are you talking about?” Carter asks again, but I ignore him. I remain in a staring contest with Victoria, with neither of us daring to look away. There’s a doubt in her eyes, one that’s almost afraid, and I only know that she’s decided what to do by the way she clenches her jaw.
“Let me get my shoes.” She reluctantly walks away, probably knowing she doesn’t have much of a choice.
“What are you hiding?” Carter asks me.
“There’s something possibly inside that old building, and I need to make sure it either isn’t there or destroyed before I burn the place down,” I tell Carter and slip my other shoe on.
“What is it?”
“It’s personal, Carter.”
“I’m helping you sneak out, the least you can do is be honest with me.”
“I am being honest. Please, just trust me.”
Victoria quickly but quietly makes her way down the stairs, still in her pajamas.
“If Damien catches us, he’s going to think this is my fault,” she whispers.
“That would ruin your little friendship, now wouldn’t it?” I snap back at her, and I hate that a part of me feels bad for it. A puff of regret flies out of my mouth, and I have to look away from her. “I’m sorry. Let’s just go.”
I stand up and throw my black hoodie on, knowing that I need to stay as concealed as possible. It’s a little snug, but it's going to have to do. She follows me out to the garage, and my irritation grows when I notice Alex’s car parked behind the Traverse, disappointed that I didn’t think of that.
“Shit,” I whisper, already walking over to the key hooks.
“Okay, here. You move Alex’s car out of the way, and then when we get back, we’ll put them back the way they were.
We shouldn’t be gone for very long.” I throw the keys to Victoria and pocket my key fob.
She catches them, but then looks down at the set like it’ll bite her.
“I’m not sure you want me doing that,” she warns.
“Well, as long as you don’t try to leave or run me over, I think we can work together for an hour.”
“No, I…” She hesitates. “I don’t know how to drive,” she admits quietly, and I stop in my tracks.
How does she not know how to drive? I learned to do that in high school—which she didn’t go to…
If she was barely allowed to leave the house, I’m sure not teaching her to drive was another way to control her.
Even if she managed to defy him, how could she get away?
That really upsets me, and I’m pissed that I’m angry about it. I shouldn’t care about her or what she’s been through. Why do I care if she knows how to drive? She’s not our problem, but the more I tell myself that, the more bitter it tastes. I hate it.
I storm up to her and swipe the keys from her hand, not wanting to look at her anymore. Thankfully, the door doesn’t slam as I walk out to move Alex’s car, and I take a second to breathe before I get in.
“Damn, that’s kind of sad,” Carter says in my ear.
“Don’t start, please,” I beg and back the car up.
“She really doesn’t seem to be all that bad. She’s definitely tough.”
“Seriously, Carter. Enough. I don’t want to think of her in any other way than I already do. Don’t tell me you're starting to feel bad for one of Damien’s captors.”
“Of course not.”
“Then drop it.” I get out of Alex’s car and walk back inside the garage.
The cooler temperatures and breeze outside should feel good, but it doesn't. All I can feel is my anger, and it's heating me from my core.
I don't want to feel bad for her. I don't want to accept her situation.
There's only one way I want to see her, and it's as the enemy.
But once my eyes land on her again, part of that hatred goes right back out the door.
Her arms are crossed and she's standing there awkwardly.
There's a tautness to her stance, like she's trying to appear mad and standoffish, but then there's the defeat in her eyes, telling me she's secretly embarrassed or sad.
Her wild appearance clearly hides a lot, but I haven't been open to figuring that out.