Chapter 24
ASH
A fter sleeping soundly, I wake to the sound of room service knocking. Since I’m alone among the fluffy linens, I expect War to open the door.
When the suite’s main door opens, and room service announces itself, I scurry from the bed, crouching low as I pull War’s sweatshirt on. I hide behind the bedroom door, so I don’t flash the room service guy.
After a breathless minute, I hear the other door open and close again. Peeking out, I see there’s a spread of food arranged on the table.
What the?
Once my heart stops pounding, I emerge into the living room with soft steps. Yeah, all alone. Was breakfast a goodbye gift? If so, he’s a lunatic, and we will definitely be talking about that later. But at the moment, I’m super hungry, so first, food.
While I’m scooping eggs and crumbled bacon into a croissant, the main door opens again. I stiffen until I see it’s War in sweat-drenched workout gear .
“Oh, hey,” I say. “I wondered what the hell happened to you. Thought you might’ve bolted, all ‘Cinderella at midnight’ style.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Some guys don’t like to sleep over. Or so I’ve heard.”
“This is my room.”
“True.” Breaking off a piece of iced lemon poundcake, I pop it into my mouth. “Yum. Thanks for ordering breakfast.”
He nods and walks past me into the bedroom.
“But you know, you really should’ve been here to answer the door,” I call out, just to mess with him. Since these words are greeted with silence, I add between bites, “They woke me up. Not cool.” I pause. “‘Cuz I had a long night.”
The continued silence makes me smile. I know he heard me.
Wiping my hands, I hop up to grab my phone. There are several messages, including a couple from my brother at four in the morning.
Scott: ma says u never made it there
Scott: u all right?
I type a quick response.
Ash: yeah, fell asleep while talking. all good here I’ll go to moms or come back to yours in a little while.
After I send the text, I add a single heart as a message so he knows I love him, too.
War emerges from the bedroom, having showered and put on a bathrobe that doesn’t fit since it wasn’t made for a giant. His whole chest is on display, and his junk flashes me several times, especially when he sits down with his knees a couple feet apart.
My phone rings, and I’m surprised to see it’s Crosby. I turn the phone’s screen in War’s direction for him to see, as well.
War pours coffee from a silver server and says, “Answer.”
I swipe and then tap the speaker icon. “Hey, Crosby. ”
“Finally. You all right, beautiful? I heard you had a bad situation.”
My brows rise. Is he really going to pretend he’s concerned? Even if he wasn’t involved in the abduction, he was all about the surly attitude and veiled threats the last time I saw him.
“Heard from who?” I’m not gonna call him out for trying to play me, because I’m interested in what he’s gonna say and whether he’ll incriminate himself.
“Leighton Miller from Lambda House. He said you and that ape McCann came up through the floor?”
“Through a wall, actually.” I eat a chocolate-covered strawberry, which gives me a surreal Valentine’s Day vibe I wasn’t expecting. “Where are you?”
“New York. My grandmother’s in the hospital, so I came home. Tell me what happened. How’d you end up in the tunnels?”
“It’s a long story. And not one for the phone.”
“Hmm.” He waits, which is normally a good tactic with me, since I don’t like awkward silences.
But with the king of the silent treatment staring me down with a dark scowl, I’m busy carrying on a wordless conversation with him, too.
“Listen, Ash, I want to apologize.”
My brows rise. Could Crosby be about to admit to being involved in a kidnapping that went sideways in a seriously deadly way? Surely not.
“I’m listening.”
“Yeah, well… I let my frustration get the best of me at the costume party,” he says.
War sets his coffee cup down, watching the phone with grim intent.
“It’s tough when you hit the brakes on us over and over. I’m?—”
“Hey, let’s not, okay?” I say, feeling heat start to burn my cheeks .
I’m pissed at Crosby, and, if he was involved in the whole kidnapping deal, I won’t stand in the way of the Crue doing whatever the hell it’s gonna do to him.
But if by some crazy turn of events, he wasn’t involved, I don’t want to have a highly personal conversation with him in front of War. That feels wrong.
Crosby clears his throat and rushes on, using his booming voice to drown out my objection.
“Let me just say this. I know I come on strong. And that you thought the ring was too much, but when I want something I go after it. Three dates isn’t many, but we’ve been around each other a lot more than that. And when I don’t see you, I miss it.”
Awkward.
“I keep thinking about the way it was that night you and I played pool the first time at Bruno’s. The things you said to me?—”
War tears into his breakfast sandwich.
“I was drunk, Cros,” I interject. “And that was?—”
“We’ve got great chemistry. You said it yourself. And no one flirts with you better than I do, right?”
War stops chewing, and if his black stare was a hammer, the phone would’ve been smashed to pieces.
“Look—” I say.
“McCann’s trying to force his way in and act like a protector, but he fucking isn’t. He’s a snake. Do you know what Ilya Petrov told me about that prick?”
War reaches across and grabs my phone.
My jaw drops, and I try to grab it back. But War ends the call as Crosby says, “He has a plan?—”
I come out of my chair and reach across, but War blocks me from retrieving my phone. As it starts to ring, he turns it off and shoves it in the pocket of the robe.
“Seriously?” My tone is stunned and incredulous.
Taking a bite of his sandwich, he gives me a flat stare .
“ Seriously? ” My voice is higher than I intend, because I’m feeling a sense of dread and panic.
What the F was Crosby about to tell me?
Did I just sleep with the enemy? Scotty believes War has his own agenda, and my brother is very good at reading people. Better than I am, clearly.
“What do you think that’s going to accomplish, War? I’m gonna talk to Crosby eventually. We all are. Scott is going to find and interrogate him. Also, Scott’s got your phone. So whatever you’ve been up to in secret, he’s going to find.”
“Do I look worried?”
“I doubt you ever look worried. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Bergmann wants to keep you away from me. At all costs. And it’s too early in the fucking morning to deal with whatever lies he was gonna spin. Let him make his allegations to C and Trick when they get a hold of him. They’re experts at sorting fact from fiction.”
“Fine. Give me my phone so I can let my brother know where Crosby is. He can have him picked up for Crue questioning.”
“I’m sure Trick already knows exactly where Bergmann is by now. Your brother’s highly motivated to identify everyone involved in taking you.”
“I know that. And he’ll do it, too.” Dropping back into my chair, I fold my arms across my chest and glare at him.
“I’m just really hoping that your sleeping with me last night wasn’t some last ‘fuck you’ to the Crue before they find out you were involved in something shady and kill you.
” Shaking my head, I whisper, “Was that it? Were you playing us? Playing me?”
“No.”
I study his expression. As usual it gives nothing away.
“Who’s Ilya Petrov?”
“I’m not doing this with you. Not today.” He reaches across the table and closes his big hand around my forearm, pulling on it until it gives way .
I’m forced to lean forward as my arm is tugged across the table into his possession. Trying to pull my arm free only causes his grip to tighten. Damn it. But also, sort of… Good . I want our connection to be real. My heart pounds faster.
He refuses to let go.
“Why did you take my phone, War?” Managing to keep my voice hard, I say, “How am I supposed to trust you after that?”
“You’re not.”
“Give it back. And my arm too, while you’re at it.”
“In a minute.” Daylight streams in through the window, making his damp, dark hair seem as black as sable and the greenish gold flecks in his eyes look feral. “Saw some blood on the sheets. You all right?”
I don’t shy away from the question. As I keep my gaze trained on his face, I say in a matter-of-fact tone, “Little late to ask that, isn’t it?”
His thumb strokes the skin on the inside of my wrist. All kinds of wrong emotions threaten to overtake me.
“Nah, not too late. Last night, we both got what we wanted at the time. Morning after, a virgin fucked by a monster might need something else, though. Do you?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Salve? Numbing gel?”
My brows rise. “Is that a thing?”
His thumb traces a circle over the pulse in my wrist.
“And where would you get those from?” My tone is bewildered, then gives way to teasing with a bite. “Room service?”
He shrugs. “Drug store.”
“Is that something you do? For the girls you tear to pieces?”
Giving me a skeptical look, he shakes his head. “Not most girls.”
“But you would for me?” My brow arches. “Because I’m so special?”
He releases my arm with a roll of his eyes. “Get dressed. I’ll give you your phone back when I drop you off. ”
“Sure. Whatever.” I manage to keep my voice cool, but I’m not all right with the plan. I don’t know what I want, but it’s not for him to toss me on a doorstep like a bag of laundry that needs to be washed and sorted.
Taking my time in an exaggerated fashion, I finish my glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice and all the chocolate strawberries. Having finished his breakfast, he pours himself another cup of coffee into a to-go cup and walks into the bedroom as I glare at his back.
Whispering under my breath, I ask,“Why in the world did I have sex with you when I hate you?” Leaning back in the plush chair, I stare up at the ceiling and take a deep breath. “To hell with this.”
Willing myself to buck up, I frown. I knew what I was getting into. War never said he wanted anything other than one night. And did I have the best orgasms of my life? Definitely. So, no regrets. If I slept with the enemy, at least I enjoyed it at the time.
Standing, I pour a tall cup of coffee into the other to-go cup.
I also put butter and chili- mandarin marmalade on a cranberry-orange scone, wrap it in a napkin, and set it next to my cup.
I might not get to lounge around the gorgeous suite for hours, but I’ll be damned if I miss trying chili-orange jam on fresh-baked scones.
War and I pass each other as he comes out to the living room dressed in jeans and a faded gray band t-shirt for a group I’ve never heard of. The cities listed on the back are all in Europe.
As I dress in jeans and a winking emoji sweatshirt, I plan my day.
I’ll call Scott first, just to check in and let him know I really am okay.
I’ll tell him about Crosby being in New York and what he started to say about War.
Once I’ve done that, it’ll be out of my hands and up to the Crue to sort things out.
With most of the people in my life either working or at school, I’m not gonna want to sit at home alone.
Maybe I’ll get Kat to go shopping with me.
She’s a writer but usually starts in the evening and works late into the night, so afternoons are a decent time to get together with her.
Or I could see if Sawyer wants to skip class to hang out in Boston with me.
The Crue can give us bodyguards if they think we should have them.
Plus, I’ll have a gun, of course. Safe as houses.
I need to think about how I’ll get around while Billie’s with the mechanics. Hopefully, they’ve already got her mostly fixed, and I’ll be able to pick her up soon. Until then, maybe Scott will let me borrow his car or a Crue SUV.
Coming out of the room with my duffle hanging from my shoulder, I rake my gaze over War’s towering form. He’s already got his wool coat on. Taking the duffle from me, he shoulders it with his own before handing me my coat. I put it on and grab my to-go cup and scone.
I make no comment about his carrying the bags or holding the door open for me. It’s too little too late. And also, it feels more like facilitating our departure than actual chivalry.
Sipping the rich, dark roast coffee, I stand silently in the elevator, eyes forward and expressionless.
“To hell with you,” I whisper under my breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.” My tone is pancake flat. To hell with you , I add in my head. That’s gonna be my new mantra where he’s concerned.
War slides mirrored sunglasses on and looks like such a fucking badass, my lady parts clench with longing. There’s a lingering satisfied soreness between my legs that forces me to repeat, “for fuck’s sake” and “to hell with him” in my head about twenty more times.
Is this what drug addiction is like? Where you know something is so bad for you and yet, you want it so fucking much.
We leave the beautiful hotel and walk silently to the parking lot. Totally different vibe today than last night. I’ve got nothing exciting to look forward to anymore.
I toss my empty coffee cup into a trash can before getting into the rented SUV. War sets our duffels in the back .
As he opens the driver’s door, the world starts to swim before my eyes. As though my blood sugar has plummeted, but of course that’s not possible.
What the hell?
I swallow and grab the armrest.
All of a sudden, I’m super dizzy.
War climbs in as the scone falls from my hand and dances to the floorboards. My eyes jump in their sockets like pinballs.
“I’m—something’s weird.” My voice sounds a thousand miles away. “War?—”
He reaches over, buckles my seatbelt, and leans my seat back so I’m staring at the roof’s interior.
What in the actual fuck?
I open my mouth to scream, but nothing happens. My tongue is like a giant gummy bear wedged against the roof of my mouth.
Red. Blue. Irish Stew.
I’m out.