Chapter 20
ASH
B eing holed up at Scott’s mansion in Coynston for two days is just what I need. I bring Irina and Makayla Stroviak over for a playdate with my adorable nephews, Sean and Finn, so I’m surrounded and distracted by the four kids.
We play board and video games, have story hour, do very messy craft projects, including making slime, and when the weather warms up randomly to fifty-four degrees, go outside and play tag. It’s the best medicine to help me forget Granthorpe and its random collection of violent assholes.
When I’ve just settled in with my nephews to watch Wreck It Ralph , Finn’s favorite, my phone rings, causing my head to jerk.
No one calls me at random without a text first. Lifting the phone, I clock that it’s an unknown number.
I let it go to voicemail, thinking it’s spam.
But when I play the message, I recognize War’s deep voice. “It’s me. Call me back.”
The boys immediately want to know who it is. I don’t answer but instead give four-year-old Sean the bowl of buttered popcorn to hold, warning him not to spill it. Distracting them is key, and I’m good at it .
After I leave the room, I jog up the stairs and glance around to be sure Scott isn’t nearby to overhear me. When I’m alone in my guest room, I close the door and call War back on the burn phone he must be using. Does Scott still have War’s phone? That’s crazy.
Instead of a greeting, when War picks up, he says, “Where are you?”
“Scott’s house in Coins.”
“I figured. I’m headed that way to pick you up.”
My brows rise in surprise. “Right now? For the thing I agreed to when we were underground?”
“Affirmative. I’m driving a rented Suburban, and I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
Oh, wow. Fast. And a rented truck?
Going still, I ask, “Why a rental?”
“Because this isn’t Crue business. It’s between you and me. See you soon.”
Before I can say anything else, he ends the call. My breath hitches in my chest. I don’t know what to tell Scott and Laurelyn about where I’m suddenly going after I said I’d be having a movie night with the kids.
On the other hand, it’s not like I wasn’t constantly anticipating this.
It’s stamped on the inside of my skull, and every time I close my eyes or slow down long enough for the memories to catch up, it’s all I can think about.
The debt, the promise, the favor I owe for not allowing myself to remain trapped in an underground dungeon.
Half of me is excited by the prospect of a night alone with War, so I can see where we really stand with each other now. The other half just wants to clear the debt, so I don’t have to worry about it anymore.
After I toss my duffle bag on the low platform bed, I fill it with a couple of outfits and my personal items.
Catching sight of myself in the mirror, I frown. I’m wearing sweats and yesterday’s underwear. No makeup. Hair in a sloppy braid.
I could go like this, which would be a silent F- off to War for the extorted promise. But since I want the night to be about more than paying off a debt, I won’t.
I’m attracted to him. At least physically. And there is some kind of undeniable fucked-up chemistry between us. I literally can’t resist some sort of interaction with him when he’s around. Even if it’s just to fight, I have to engage. That means something, right?
My hands are sticky, slicked with fear and something more. I wipe them on my pants before grabbing some clothes from the closet and rushing into the attached bathroom.
It’s the fastest shower on record. I partially dry my hair and put it up in a clip. There’s no time for makeup, so I just put on some skin lotion and lip balm. Then I slide into a sky-blue bra and panty set, navy leggings and a cream-colored sweater dress.
When the phone rings again, I jump. Man, I’m keyed up. Gotta manage that.
Taking a couple of slow breaths, I will myself to calm down.
Answering the phone, I say, “Yes?”
“I’m downstairs. Come now.”
Rolling my eyes, I get my shakiness under control. “I need a minute, but I’ll come soon.”
I tap the screen to end the call. He gave me almost no warning, so he can wait.
After I get a gun from one of the three gun safes on the upper floors, I slip it into my duffel and shoulder the bag.
Jogging down the steps, I look around. No Scott and no Laurelyn.
Shit, are they in their bedroom? There’s no way I’m knocking on their door, interrupting whatever they’re doing, just to announce I’m gonna drive off with War and don’t know when I’ll be back.
Scott’s going to be pissed .
Chewing on my lip, I formulate my play. It’s a coward’s move, but I write a handwritten note and attach it to the fridge.
Going out to talk with War. We may have dinner in Boston. If so, I’ll go to Mom’s afterward.
Adding a giant heart at the end, I chew on my lip.
The note isn’t a total lie. I’m sure at some point I will be talking to War, and that we’ll eat something.
I’m also betting he’ll take me away from Coynston, which is fully Crue territory.
If we checked into a hotel here, it would be known within hours, if not immediately.
I also can’t see War taking me all the way back to GU to a house where my cousin will be.
That would also raise the likelihood of Scott finding out right away that War isn’t just planning to talk to me during this encounter.
So, Boston, a big city with lots of hotels, is the most likely place.
Though my note paints a casual picture, I expect a call from Scott as soon as he emerges from his bedroom and finds it. Possibly sooner, since there are Crue guys stationed on the street and they may report my exit via text.
After shutting off the house’s security alarm long enough to open the front door so I can leave, I reset it and step out. Taking a long breath of chilly, night air, I brace myself for my reunion with the monster.
The big Suburban idles in the driveway. When the headlights catch me, a Crue guy and friend, Derrick Miller, emerges from a car on the street. War also climbs out of the truck.
The three of us meet on the driveway in front of the rented SUV.
“Thought everyone was in for the night?” Derrick says.
“Yeah, change of plans. Do you know War?”
“Of course.” Derrick nods a greeting at War before returning his attention to me. “Trick didn’t text me about the change of plans. He knows, right? ”
“Yeah, he will soon. I think he and Laurelyn are busy, so I left a note.”
As I start toward the truck’s passenger side, Derrick reaches for my arm. War’s hand shoots out to block Derrick’s from landing.
“No,” War says. “Text Trick if you want, but don’t touch her.”
Derrick’s brows spring up in surprise. “Ash, that was not?—”
“Of course not, no.” I shove at War’s arm, trying to push it away. “Derrick and I are friends. That was just going to be his way of getting my attention to tell me to hold on. Nothing more.”
War’s black gaze changes not one iota. “Text Trick if you want, Miller. Ashling, get in the truck.”
This lands exactly the way anyone with knowledge of the Crue would expect. Derrick’s expression hardens, and he takes a few steps back, so he’s out of War’s considerable reach, then he unzips his jacket, making his gun available to him.
“Skin it, and you’ll regret it.” War’s tone is so flat, it doesn’t jibe with what’s happening.
“Are you kidding?” I whisper at War. Exhaling, I shake my head. “I am not leaving this way. If you want me to come with you, give me a minute.”
War scowls, but he doesn’t interfere when I walk closer to Derrick.
“Sorry, Derrick. Sorry about that.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for. I do think you should head back in the house, though. If McCann needs to talk to you, he can come by tomorrow when Trick knows and okays it.”
“Yeah, I get what you’re saying, but tomorrow’s not gonna be different. Heightened security isn’t ending, and Scott’s still leaning toward lock-down mode for us—his family.”
“All the more reason.” Derrick gestures toward the door, urging me to go inside.
I shake my head. “I need to talk to War. Alone. We let things settle for forty-eight hours. Trick knows I’m okay. Now’s the right time for War and I to meet.”
“You sure this situation is safe? Trick has never once suggested any of us should interfere with your going anywhere you want. If he’s got concerns, seems like you should, too.”
My hand starts to reach out toward Derrick, in a friendly gesture of thanks for his concern, but the sound of War clearing his throat causes me to pull it back.
Derrick’s gaze shifts to him. “What’s your problem, McCann?”
“Maybe nothing. Maybe you.”
“You really aren’t doing yourself any favors.” Derrick raises his phone and makes the call.
Ugh. A call rather than a text.
Derrick puts the phone on speaker, so if my brother picks up, we can all hear what’s said.
War glares at Derrick, and I half expect War to knock the phone to the ground, but he is as still as a statue.
After a few rings, Scott answers. “Yeah, Mill, what’s up?”
“Ash is in your driveway. Wants to take a ride with War McCann. That cool?”
There is a second’s pause, then Scott says, “Let me talk to her.”
“You’re on speaker, Trick.”
“Hey, Scott,” I say.
“Call me from your phone, Ashling. Do not put me on speaker.”
I swallow slowly, drop my duffle to the cement, and take my phone out. War crosses his arms over his chest.
When I call, Scott says, “What the fuck?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to spring this on you. I need to talk to War.”
“No, you really don’t.”
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I promised to give him some time, so we can talk. It won’t take long. ”
“At night? With no heads up? He just shows up and orders you out of my fucking house? Who the fuck does he think he is?”
“He saved my life.”
“And you saved his.”
“Yeah, I did.” I close my eyes, trying to figure out a way to smooth this over. “I won’t be too long. Just need to keep my word.”
“Fuck that. You don’t owe him anything.”
“Gonna go.”
“Ash—”
“I love you. I won’t be too long.”
“Ashling.”
“I’m okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Listen to me, all right?” His voice is firm, commanding but also kind. “Just for a second.”
“Okay.” My voice is shaky with emotion. I never go against my brother’s advice. Not ever. “Go ahead.” I hate being in this position. There is no doubt in my mind he has my best interests at heart. That’s a given.
“I have a job as your older brother. It trumps everything else, even the Crue. If anyone hurts you or Kathleen, ever , I will end them. But that won’t fix the fact that you got hurt. War has some agenda of his own that I haven’t unravelled yet. I don’t trust him. Not with you.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I shudder.
“If anything really bad happened to you, Ash, it would gut me.” His voice is soft now, a raw whisper.
“I want you to think hard. Do that for me. How sure of him, are you? If there’s any doubt, come back inside.
He can wait another day or two to talk to you.
He can do it in daylight, in the backyard, while I’m close by, so if anything goes sideways, I can intervene.
Because if all he wants to do is talk, why not here? Why not daytime?”
When I open my eyes, they lock with War’s, and there’s something in his expression I can’t read .
“I hear you, Scotty.”
War’s lips move, soundlessly, and I read them. Come with me.
“I hear you, and I’ve thought it over. I’m okay.
” My voice is firm and pulled together now as I speak into the phone.
“Jeeze. Can’t believe I let things get so melodramatic.
Sorry for that. I’m okay. Really. Except for freezing my toes off right now.
Talk to you tomorrow.” Ending the call, I drop my phone in my purse and pick up the duffle. “Thanks, Derrick. All good now.”
Derrick’s expression is grim as I round the truck. I hear his phone ring. He picks up without hesitation as I get in. After War closes my door, he rounds the truck and climbs into the driver’s seat.
My hand slides into my purse, and I finger the gun. “War, answer something for me.”
“What?” he asks as he puts the truck in reverse.
“Are you here for me? Or is this some kind of pissing contest between you and the Crue bosses?”
“You,” he says emphatically.
My hand closes around the handle of the gun more tightly. “Because the way you’re doing things… It feels like it’s about more than that.”
“They aren’t in charge of what I do in my off hours. If I want to see you, I’m not gonna clear it with Trick or any of them.”
“Did Trick do something to make you angry? Sometimes when he jokes, he’s sarcastic, and it pushes people’s buttons.”
War exhales a derisive sound. “I don’t give a shit about your brother one way or the other. My skin is about five inches thick and made of rawhide. Nothing he says is gonna get under it.”
“How about me? Are you angry at me?”
“Why would I be angry at you?”
“I don’t know. You seem angry in general. You have since the first time I met you.”
After pulling out of the driveway, he shifts into drive and rolls forward to the stop sign. “On the day we met, I was pissed you and those four little helium balloons with legs woke me up. But only a psychopath would hold onto something like that.”
“And you’re not one?”
That causes him to chuckle. “If you need to ask, why did you get in the truck?”
“I don’t know.”
When that makes him laugh again, I shake my head, mostly at myself. “Honestly,” I say softly. “I don’t know why I’m here.”
He glances over, his expression serious again. “Want me to tell you?”
I cock my head, assessing him coolly. “You don’t know. How could you if I don’t?”
“Because I’ve had the same problem. Don’t know whether I can’t stand you or wanna stay locked in a dirt-floor dungeon with you indefinitely.”
That finally pushes me into a smile. “Indefinitely? Yeah, right. And by the way, if you’re taking me to a sex dungeon or a cell of any kind, I will call game over instantly. I am not going into a cage. Not for you or anyone.”
“Nah. I know that wouldn’t fly. And I’ve got no taste for dungeons right now, either.”
Studying his handsome profile, I nod. His tone is a lot less terse than usual, which is reassuring. “Are you planning to be nice for once?”
“Let’s not get carried away. I want you to remember who you’re with.”
That causes me to smirk. Feeling better, I finally melt back against the seat. “As if I could forget. Your shadow’s bigger than the John Hancock Tower.”