Chapter 21
MIA
I round the corner into the kitchen, rubbing a tired hand over my face, and nearly collide with Asher. His hands barely brush my arms before he steps back, leaving space between us.
“We really have to stop meeting like this,” I try to joke.
His lips twitch, but there’s something guarded in his expression. “Guess it’s our thing.”
The kitchen is dim, the soft glow from the under-cabinet lights making it feel smaller than usual. Outside, the lake is still, reflecting the moonlight in an unbroken sheet of silver.
I move to the counter, grabbing a mug and filling it from the still-warm coffee pot. My fingers curl around the ceramic, needing the comfort of something solid. “What are you doing up?”
“Could ask you the same thing,” Asher says, crossing his arms as he leans against the fridge.
I shrug, taking a slow sip. “Hard to sleep.”
He nods like he understands. Maybe he does. Maybe that’s why he’s here, too.
We fall into a familiar silence, the kind that used to feel easy but now holds something else. Something unspoken, pressing in from all sides. I hate it. I hate that things feel different now, like we’re all waiting for something to snap.
I take a breath. “Are you still leaving?”
It’s a simple question. He could just say yes, and we’d move on. But the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers flex against his biceps like he’s bracing for impact—it tells me the answer isn’t simple at all.
“Yeah,” he finally says.
The word lands heavier than I expect. I swallow against the lump forming in my throat and force a small smile.
“Okay,” I say. “Then I free you.”
His brows knit together. “What?”
I gesture vaguely between us. “Whatever this is. I free you from it.”
He doesn’t say anything.
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “It’s ridiculous, anyway. What do I even know about you? What do you know about me?”
Asher’s eyes flicker with something unreadable before he straightens.
His voice is quiet but firm. “You like your coffee with too much sugar. You sleep with the window cracked open, even when it’s freezing.
You count things when you’re nervous—steps, cracks in the sidewalk, how many times the twins say your name.
And you hum when you cook, but only when you think no one’s listening. ”
I stop breathing for a second.
His eyes don’t leave mine. “And I know you want to let people in, but you don’t know how.”
I tighten my grip on the mug, the warmth barely reaching my fingertips.
“And you?” My voice is softer now, almost hesitant.
“You drink black coffee, but only because you think sugar is a weakness. You carry that damn coin in your pocket and roll it over your knuckles when you’re overthinking something.
You don’t talk about your parents, but I see it in your face when the girls do something that reminds you of what you lost. And you hate goodbyes. ”
Asher’s breath catches. For a second, something shifts between us, breaking open.
Then suddenly, he’s right there, his forehead pressing against mine, his exhale warm against my skin. My pulse stutters, the moment too fragile, too real. I close my eyes, letting the silence stretch between us. Letting myself feel this, whatever this is.
I can’t remember the last time something felt this intense, this raw.
His breath warms my lips, and a tremor runs through me. I look up, finding his eyes locked on mine with a hunger that makes my stomach flip. We don’t speak. There’s no need. We both know what we’re about to do.
He tilts his head, mouth brushing against mine in a kiss that starts slow—gentle, even—but the dam breaks fast. My fingers grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, and he answers with a low sound that vibrates through my chest.
I press up on my toes, deepening the kiss, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing, setting me on the edge of the kitchen countertop.
The cool surface contrasts with the heat coursing through me, and I gasp. My legs part to make room for him, and his arms cage around me, strong biceps flexing under my palms. The closeness is dizzying. I can feel every breath he takes, every soft rumble in his chest when he lets out a low groan.
“You sure?” he murmurs, voice rough, eyes hooded with need.
I answer by tugging him in, capturing his mouth again.
There’s no hesitation left in me. My heart thuds so loudly, I’m sure he can hear it.
His hands slide under my shirt, fingertips grazing my waist, my ribs.
I arch into his touch, hungry for more, letting the tension and frustration of the last few days boil over into something fierce and undeniable.
We kiss like we might lose each other tomorrow. Because we might.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to yank my shirt over my head, and I shiver at the sudden rush of air against my skin.
Without waiting, he palms my breasts, his large hands rough against my sensitive skin.
I moan, letting my head fall back as he dips down to run his mouth along my neck, his breath hot and ragged.
“God,” he murmurs, lips grazing the hollow of my throat. “You feel so damn good.”
I arch into him, a whimper escaping me when his thumbs brush over my nipples. The friction sends a bolt of pleasure low in my belly, and I tug at his shirt, urging him to shed it, needing to feel his bare skin.
He complies, tossing the fabric aside. My eyes trace over his torso, the sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen, the faint scars that tell stories of a past he rarely discusses. I swallow hard, excitement and a little fear swirling in my veins.
“Tell me if—” he starts, voice husky.
I shake my head. “I want this,” I whisper, reaching for his belt. My fingers fumble as I tug it free, the clink of the buckle snapping.
Asher growls low in his throat, pulling me in for another fierce kiss. The taste of him is intoxicating—coffee and something purely masculine. My heart hammers wildly when he undoes my pants, sliding them down until I can kick them off.
I’m aching, every nerve aflame, as he settles between my thighs.
His cock strains against his underwear, thick and insistent.
I bite my lip at the sight, a rush of heat flooding me.
He tugs off the last of his clothes, and for a moment, we just look at each other—me perched on the counter, him standing there, tall, powerful.
His erection proof of just how badly he wants this.
Slowly, he runs his palm up the inside of my thigh, his gaze never leaving mine. I part my legs for him, pulse roaring in my ears, and the moment he touches my center, a gasp tears from my throat. My fingers dig into his shoulders, urging him closer.
“Please,” I manage, voice trembling.
He answers me by leaning in, capturing one of my breasts in his mouth, sucking gently. I moan, bracing my hands on the countertop behind me for support. Electricity zips down my spine as his tongue teases my nipple, and I feel his cock press against my entrance.
“Damn,” he mutters, lifting his head. “You’re so wet.”
There’s no space for embarrassment. Only need. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him in. He grips my ass, lifting me slightly so he can line himself up. His first push steals my breath, and we both groan at the stretch, at the sensation of him sliding inside me.
He gives a quick thrust, burying himself fully, and I cry out, clinging to him. Pleasure washes over me in waves, each one more intense than the last. Asher braces one hand on the counter beside me, the other on my hip, guiding me as he starts to move, each stroke slow and deliberate.
I can’t form words, only moans that he swallows with a deep kiss.
My back digs into the counter as his cock, his cock pumps in and out of me, my breasts bouncing with every thrust. He leans down, capturing one nipple between his lips again, and the sensation of his mouth on my breast while he’s buried deep inside me nearly undoes me.
“God, Mia,” he groans, voice thick with desire. His pace picks up, his grip shifting to my thigh to angle me better for each thrust. “You feel—fuck.”
The friction grows, heat building at the base of my spine. My head falls back, eyes sliding shut. I’m vaguely aware of the sounds we’re making—our ragged breathing, my whimpers, the slap of skin on skin. He’s so big, so powerful, and yet, I’ve never felt safer.
The knot of pleasure coils tighter and tighter until it snaps, and I jerk against him, a strangled cry escaping as I clench around his cock. He moans my name through gritted teeth, hips faltering as he finds his own release, buried so deep I can practically feel his heartbeat inside me.
We stay like that for what feels like forever—his forehead on my shoulder, my legs still wrapped around him. Our chests rise and fall in staggered unison, hearts hammering. Slowly, he lifts his head, brushing sweaty strands of my hair out of my face, his gaze searching mine.
I open my mouth, not sure what I’m about to say, but he kisses me again. Softer this time, full of a tenderness that sends warmth flooding back into me.
Asher zips up his jeans and puts his shirt back on, his movements slow and almost hesitant. I tug my shirt back over my head, my body still thrumming in the aftermath. The kitchen is quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator and our unsteady breaths.
I don’t know what to say. What this means.
I glance at him, and he’s already looking at me, something raw and unguarded in his expression. Then he exhales, raking a hand through his hair before letting it drop to his side.
“I love you, Mia.”
The words land like a shockwave. My fingers freeze on the hem of my shirt, and my breath catches.
“What?”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t take it back.
“I love you,” he repeats, more certain this time.
“I don’t know when it happened. Maybe from the moment you told me I wasn’t as charming as I thought.
Maybe when I saw you fighting for your girls like nothing else in the world mattered.
Or maybe it was when I realized I didn’t want to leave. ”
My stomach twists painfully. “But you are leaving.”
His throat works as he swallows. “Yeah.” His voice is thick, strained. “But that doesn’t change what I feel.”
I stare at him, my heart hammering. I don’t know what I expected tonight, but it wasn’t this.
“Asher…” I start, but I don’t even know how to finish the sentence.
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to say anything.” His mouth twitches into something that isn’t quite a smile. “I just needed you to know.”
Before I can say anything, the soft patter of little feet reaches us. I turn just as Emma appears in the doorway, rubbing her sleepy eyes.
“Princess,” I say, forcing my voice to stay calm. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
Emma yawns, clutching her stuffed unicorn. “I was looking for Ella.”
Something sharp lances through my chest. I straighten. “What do you mean? She’s not in bed?”
Emma shakes her head. “No. She went out to look for Super Agent Zane.”
The air is sucked out of my lungs. Every muscle in my body locks.
Asher stiffens beside me. “Out where?” he asks Emma, already moving.
“I dunno.” Emma shrugs. “She woke me up and said she wanted to help on patrol, like real secret agents.”
My heart thunders so loud, it drowns out everything else. Ella. Outside. Alone.
I drop to my knees, gripping Emma’s shoulders, trying to keep my panic in check. “Sweetheart, how long ago did she leave?”
Emma shrugs again, her lower lip trembling. “I dunno. I fell back asleep.”
Oh, God.
Asher is already at the door, grabbing his gun. “I’m going out.”
“We’re coming with you,” I say.
His lips seal together, but he nods. “That’s probably a good idea.”
I nod, scooping Emma into my arms, my hands shaking. “Okay, baby,” I whisper. “We’re going to find her together.”
I clutch Emma close as we step onto the porch, my pulse roaring in my ears. The night is too quiet, too still. Asher moves ahead, scanning the perimeter with quick, efficient motions.
“Ella!” My voice cracks, but I force it out again, louder. “Ella, baby, where are you?”
Nothing.
Asher curses under his breath. “Zane should’ve been back by now.”
The weight of that realization slams into me. No Ella. No Zane.
Dread coils in my stomach. I move forward blindly, my bare feet crunching over the cool earth as I push ahead toward the tree line. "Ella!" My throat is raw, my fingers white-knuckled around Emma, who clings to me now, fear finally setting in.
Then I see it.
Dark patches of red smeared across the ground near the lake’s edge.
A strangled noise rips from my throat as my knees buckle. Blood. Too much of it.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, barely able to breathe. “No. No.”
Asher’s grip on my arm tightens as he pulls me back from the blood-stained earth. “Mia, listen to me,” he says, his voice calm but urgent. “This isn’t what you think. A hunter shot a deer out here yesterday. I ran into him while checking the perimeter.”
My breath shudders out of me as I stare at the dark, wet stains in the grass. “A hunter? Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Asher’s eyes flicker with something, hesitation maybe. “He was just a local. He didn’t even know we were here.”
Emma’s scream splits the night, high and terrified, before she bolts away from me.
“Emma!” I shout, heart slamming against my ribs as I take off after her.
She’s running blindly, her little feet kicking up dirt and leaves, her sobs lost in the rush of wind. I push my legs harder, my breath coming in ragged gasps. She shouldn’t be seeing this. She shouldn’t be seeing any of this.
The trees blur past, and I barely notice the uneven ground beneath me. I don’t stop running until I break through the tree line and reach the deserted road.
A blinding light pierces my vision. I flinch, throwing an arm up as headlights flood the road, burning against the dark. The rumble of an approaching engine sends a sick wave of déjà vu down my spine. I swallow hard, blinking against the glare.
Damon. It has to be Damon. He left hours ago. He’s coming back.
The tires crunch against gravel, slowing, then stopping completely. Relief floods me for just one second—
The driver’s door opens.
And Jason steps out.
Everything inside me freezes.
A slow, easy smile spreads across his face, his eyes gleaming in the headlights. “Now, now,” he murmurs. “Running off into the night like this? That’s not very safe, is it, sweetheart?”
“Jason,” I breathe.
He points to the car, and I see the outline of a man holding something up.
Ella! My baby!
Jason grins at me. “It’s time to go home, sweetheart.”