Chapter 3 #2
Asher snatched his coat off the floor and held it between his palms. “I’ll fight. If I win, you leave with me.”
Sarah immediately shook her head.
At the same time, Jessica gripped his forearm. “Don’t be an ass,” she spurted out. “You don’t own your sister’s choices. You’re better than that.”
Asher let out a heavy breath and stared deep into her eyes, anger pooling in his browns. “Jessica . . .” It was his warning shot, but she wouldn’t stand down. They were a team. They had to have each other’s backs, even if most days she wanted to drop him on his.
“Thank you,” Sarah said from behind, and it had her pivoting to face the woman.
“Don’t thank me.” Jessica’s spine stiffened.
“Your brother’s a good man. A goddamn hero.
” Her stomach muscles tightened as memories breezed through her mind with all the times Asher had come through for the country.
For the team. For her. “If he thinks this place is bad for you, then it is. But you’re an independent woman, and you’ll have to come to that realization on your own. Hopefully, it won’t be too late.”
Sarah dropped her brown eyes to the floor.
“We’re leaving.” Jessica looked back at Asher and pressed her hand to his chest, the heavy beats of his heart like vibrations against her palm.
His gaze cut over her shoulder to his sister and Angelo. “Please,” he tried one more time.
“I’m sorry.” Sarah’s words had his shoulders slumping ever so slightly.
“If anything happens to her, you’re dead,” Asher warned. Then he reached for Jessica’s elbow and motioned toward the exit with his chin.
“I’m proud of you,” Jessica said once they were on the street.
The rain was still falling, but Asher didn’t seem to notice. He kept his jacket clenched between his palms as he stared at the sidewalk in a daze.
“Asher?” She crossed her arms and stood before him, trying to fight the chill from the mix of cold air and rain. “Let’s get in my car. I’ll take you to your hotel.”
He didn’t say anything, so she reached out for him. He caught her wrist and seized her eyes, the water gliding down his face as he stared at her. “I should go back in there.”
“No. You don’t belong in there.”
“Sarah doesn’t belong in there. She’s not supposed to be mixed up with a guy like him.” He dropped his hold and looked up into the night sky as if suddenly noticing it was raining. “You’ll freeze.” He directed her toward her car at the curb.
In the passenger seat, he swiped his hands over his face.
She turned on the heated seats and jacked up the temperature, trying to prevent her teeth from clattering together.
“Maybe he’s changed.” Although throwing illegal fights didn’t exactly paint a rosy picture.
She gripped the wheel but didn’t drive. “His father is the one who got into trouble with your dad?”
Angelo Moretti. She remembered the name from Asher’s file now.
His hands fell to his lap atop his coat, resting on his thighs. “Yeah.”
“How many more years does your dad have?”
He shook his head. “No idea, and I don’t care. He’s a murderer, so . . .” He looked out the tinted window and back at the old factory building.
“Sarah can handle herself.” She forced herself to drive, afraid he’d hop out of the car and head back inside for his sister otherwise.
“My mom’s brother should have never introduced my dad to the life. Dad’s not even Italian.” He faked a laugh and gripped the bridge of his nose. “Dad tried to protect Sarah, to keep her from knowing about all of the illegal shit he was into. He kept her safe and in the Upper East Side with Mom.”
His admission arrested her attention. Her gaze darted to him as they stopped at a red light. “But he didn’t protect you,” she whispered.
Asher pressed back into the seat and closed his eyes.
Their open line of communication was officially closed. She could feel the door slamming in her face. He had a door, though; whereas, she was fairly certain her walls lacked any entranceway.
“What time’s your flight?” he asked as they neared his hotel after a ten-minute bone-chilling silence.
“Early.”
“I’m not a fan of you traveling there alone.”
“It’s Berlin, not Baghdad. And it’s for four days. We need a break from each other.” She pulled up in front of the hotel.
He lifted his shoulders, a smile in his eyes. “I don’t know. Who else will call me on my bullshit while you’re gone?”
“Liam’s pretty good at that.” She looked over at the valet approaching. “Do I need to worry you’ll do something stupid while I’m gone?” Like go back to that fight club?
He unbuckled. “When have you ever not worried about me?”
“True,” she said as the valet opened his door. “But, if you feel the urge to do anything crazy, call me first?” Her heart leaped into her throat when he reached across the gears and touched her thigh.
He lifted his brown eyes to her face. “Define crazy.” He waggled his brows, and like that, the Asher she knew was back. Mask in place.
And that’s what she wanted. To get back to the way things were before Luke went on paternity leave, and she and Asher had become way too damn close.
So close she’d worried she’d break her rules and sleep with him.
It’d nearly happened around Christmas, too.
All because of a carriage ride and some mistletoe.
“Get out of my car,” she said and couldn’t resist the smile stretching her lips.
“You know you love me.” He winked and then stepped out of her car, clutching his coat. “And, Jessica?” He braced a hand atop the Maserati and leaned down to find her eyes as the valet held an umbrella over his head.
“Yeah?” she mouthed, a tight knot forming in her stomach.
“Be safe over there. I, uh, the team needs you.”