Chapter 2 #2
“All things considered, huh?” Widow repeats slowly, setting aside the bag of ice and revealing the bloody bandage underneath.
With a huff and a slam of his wineglass against the counter, Alexei stands up.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Lawless, but I cannot bear the sight of your rotting wound a moment longer.
” Alexei moves around the countertop and pauses beside Widow, both of them wary and standoffish for different reasons.
Widow is tiptoeing around Alexei’s BJ trauma.
Alexei is grossed-out by the blood. “If you’d allow me to clean and disinfect it, I’d be enormously grateful. ”
Alexei and I definitely have different defs of the word ‘rotting’.
“Grateful?” Widow repeats as Alexei sighs and snaps the latex of his glove against his skin. I’ve been wondering if he’ll go back to wearing leather gloves or if he’s partial to the latex. Too early yet to tell. Maybe a little of both?
“We’re sharing a bed, aren’t we? I’d rather not have…bacteria in my sheets.” Alexei is deadpan. Widow seems torn between telling the man to piss off and possibly letting him do as he’s requesting. Trauma bonding. Can’t underestimate it, can ya?
“Fine.” Widow meets my eyes and I grin, putting my hand on the back of his neck and lifting up on my toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.
His hands lock on my hips and he tugs me in, holding me against his warmth.
The sight of him coming apart in the woods like that, baring his entire fucking naked soul to me, it’s a memory I’ll lock away in my subconscious for the rest of eternity.
Alexei exhales, gloved fingers twitching with impatience.
“Follow me.” He takes off down the hallway with a sweep of red silk robe, leaving me and Widow tangled up in the kitchen.
“Thank you,” I whisper to him, pressing another kiss on the side of his jaw. Just by looking at him, I can tell we’re not out of the woods yet.
See, Bohnes thinks of this house as his and mine, the spoils of this war. Alexei and I are married, legal co-owners of this property. Ash can adjust to any scenario if it means escaping his father and living as himself instead of as Aspen.
But Widow? He’s struggling. I have a few ideas of how to fix that. I won’t say anything now or he’ll fight me on it.
“Yeah, you’re welcome.” He tousles my hair before striding away, and my heart jumps. My stomach swoops. I’m having all of these…these…girl feelings and grossing myself the fuck out.
“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Ash says with exaggerated cheer, leaving his precious sword leaned up against the counter beside him so that he can cut the chicken.
This is the same man who shoved a shrivelled dick into a rapist’s throat and executed him.
The man who killed my sister. The man who made sashimi out of Maryanne with an antique sword.
He looks up at me and he smiles again, that sweet, boyish smile that I hadn’t seen until after we kidnapped him.
Something gentle and loving and all-encompassing.
That obsession in him isn’t ugly. No, it’s beautiful.
It’s the same sort of obsession I know is reflected in my own eyes when I smile back at him.
“I’ve always wanted a househusband,” I tease, giving Ash a quick hug around the middle, my eyes meeting Bohnes’. He wants to talk. I know he does. This is the perfect moment for us to have some private space as a couple.
Ash can’t hug me back with raw chicken on his hands. Instead, he kisses the top of my head and I tighten my arms, nearly spilling the rest of my soda down his back.
“If I have to live like I’m dead, I can at least contribute.
” He chuckles, the sound of the knife chop-chop-chopping on the cutting board.
A peaceful sound. A sound that reminds me of Gram.
I tense up and Ash goes still, sensing the shift in my emotion.
He doesn’t need to know that Grandma is coming here. Not yet. It’ll just stress him out.
“We need to get your frog,” I say instead and then, as an afterthought, “oh, and Trish.”
I untangle my arms from Ash’s warm body, finding his dark eyes on mine and the kitchen knife buried halfway in the cutting board. Ah. I reach up, swiping some of that gorgeous ebony hair from his forehead.
“You did good today, Doki-Doki Boy. Real good. Remember what I said? You aren’t in charge anymore and that’s a good thing.
” I stroke my hand over his cheek and he shudders, a full-body tremble that says I’m not used to casual, affectionate touch.
He wants to touch me back, but he can’t, not with raw chicken on his hands. He’s trapped.
“If Alexei’s dick is good enough for your mouth, then it’s more than good enough for mine,” he whispers, standing perfectly still for several, quiet moments.
Just existing together. Each moment we have is one more than Ash expected.
I haven’t forgotten his father’s threats or the way he talks about Ash like a lost wallet. The dead maids. The blow job video.
This right here? Makes it all worth it.
Ash opens his eyes and picks up the knife, redirecting his attention to the chicken. He attacks the raw meat with such vigor and zeal that I can’t help but ask.
“So cooking is a yes, huh? As far as hobbies go?” I pull back from him, dropping my arms to my sides. “Or are you just fantasizing that those breasts are Jonas’ face?”
Ash’s lips twitch but his knife-work never slows. He’s good with a blade, no doubt about that.
“Can I say hai to both things?” he replies, and then we both laugh. I clap him on the shoulder and give it a strong squeeze, the smile sliding off my face as I meet his eyes.
“I’m going to step out with Bohnes for a few minutes. If you even think about leaving this room, this house, or—Goddess forbid—this property, I’ll know about it. You pull a stupid stunt like that and Jonas will be the least of your worries. Understood?”
“Yes, your majesty,” Ash replies with a little bow, and he sounds so properly British that I decide not to take it as sarcasm. I slap him on the ass and he moans so beautifully that I end up gettin’ real handsy and cupping some taut cheek.
“Good boy.”
Bohnes takes my arm in gentle fingers, steering me away from the kitchen and into the overwhelming foyer.
Into our overwhelming foyer.
You know what they say: home is where the fuckboys are. Err, where the heart is. In my case, same damn thing.
Home.
Tonight, I am home.