Chapter 20 Asher
Chapter Twenty: Asher
Six months later.
The farmhouse smells like coffee and pancakes and something burning that's probably my fault.
"Asher." Jinx's voice carries from the kitchen, dry and amused. "The bacon."
"Shit." I grab the pan, flip the blackened strips onto a plate. "It's... crispy."
"It's burnt, what the hell."
"It adds character. I did that on purpose."
Lily appears in the doorway, dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, wearing pajamas covered in cartoon dogs. She eyes the bacon with suspicion.
"Dad burned breakfast again."
The word hits me like it does every time. Dad. She started saying it three months ago, casual, like it was nothing. Like it didn't shatter me into pieces every single time.
"Dad did his best," I say. "Dad is not a morning person."
"Papa makes better pancakes." She slides into her chair, reaches for the syrup. "No offense."
"None taken. Papa is a professional."
Jinx comes in with a fresh stack of pancakes, sets them on the table, drops a kiss on the top of Lily's head. He's wearing sweatpants and one of my t-shirts, his hair loose around his shoulders, his feet bare on the kitchen tile.
He looks domestic. Still got the body of a Greek god and hands that can choke a man out, but he looks happy, if the grin on his face is anything to go by.
"School today," he says, sliding into his chair. "Did you finish your homework?"
"Most of it." Lily pours an alarming amount of syrup on her pancakes. "I got stuck on the math."
"Which part?"
"The part with the numbers."
"All of math has numbers."
"Exactly."
Jinx laughs. The sound still startles me sometimes, how free it is. How genuine. Six months ago, I'd never heard him laugh like that.
"I'll help you after breakfast," he says. "We have time."
Lily nods, mouth full of pancakes. Under the table, Biscuit whines hopefully, his tail thumping against the floor.
Biscuit is a disaster of a dog. A golden retriever mix with too much energy and no sense of personal space. He sheds everywhere, steals food off counters, and sleeps at the foot of Lily's bed every night.
She adores him. We all do.
"What's on the schedule today?" Jinx asks, reaching for his coffee.
"Work until three. Conference call with Jagger at four. Marlee's stopping by for dinner." I tick items off on my fingers. "Also, the garden needs weeding."
"The garden always needs weeding."
"That's what gardens do."
"I'll help after school." Lily swallows her pancakes, reaches for more. "If I don't have too much homework."
"You always have too much homework."
"That's what school does."
Jinx snorts. Biscuit whines again. I toss him a piece of burned bacon, which he swallows without chewing.
This is our life now. Burned bacon and homework and a dog named Biscuit. Boring, domestic, ordinary.
It's everything I never knew I wanted.
The day passes in the quiet rhythm we've built.
Lily goes to school. Jinx works in the garden, coaxing potatoes and peppers and things I can't identify out of the dirt. I handle the business side of things: reports, calls, the endless administrative work that comes with rebuilding an empire.
The Silent is different now. Still powerful, still connected, but pointed in new directions. The trafficking operations are dismantled. The Foundry programs are ashes. What remains is a network of influence that Jagger is slowly, methodically, turning toward legitimate ends.
It's not perfect. There are compromises, complications, deals that taste sour in my mouth. But it's better than it was. The children who were rescued are healing. The children who might have been taken are safe.
That has to be enough. For now, anyway.
Lily comes home at three-thirty, bursting through the door with Biscuit at her heels.
"I got an A on my history test." She waves the paper in my face. "Look. An A. The teacher said I have 'exceptional knowledge of global events.'"
"That's because you've actually experienced global events." Jinx comes in from the garden, dirt on his hands, sweat on his forehead. "Most kids learn about war from textbooks."
"Most kids are boring." Lily drops her backpack, heads for the fridge. "Can I have a cookie?"
"After homework."
"But Papa—"
"After homework." He catches my eye, smiles. "House rules."
Lily grumbles but complies, dragging her backpack to the kitchen table. Biscuit follows, collapsing at her feet with a dramatic sigh.
Jinx crosses to me, wraps his arms around my waist from behind.
"Good day?"
"Productive." I lean back into him, let his warmth soak through me. "Jagger says the transition is going smoothly. The Singapore facility is being converted into a rehabilitation center. Christian is handling the European operations."
"And the investigations?"
"Ongoing. Song's exposé opened doors that can't be closed. Some of the old guard are facing charges. Others have... disappeared."
"Good."
I turn in his arms, face him. He looks tired, but it's a good tired.
"How's the garden?"
"Growing. The tomatoes are almost ready. Lily wants to make sauce."
"Does Lily know how to make sauce?"
"No. But she's determined to learn." He grins. "She's stubborn. Wonder where she gets that."
"Definitely from you."
"Definitely."
I kiss him. Slow and easy, with none of the desperation that used to mark our touches. We have time now. All the time in the world.
"Get a room," Lily calls from the kitchen.
"We have a room," Jinx calls back. "Several, actually."
"Then use one of them."
We break apart, laughing. Jinx presses his forehead to mine, his breath warm on my face.
"Later," he murmurs.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Marlee arrives at six, bearing wine and stories.
Dinner is chaos, as always. Lily insisting on helping cook, Biscuit underfoot, the kitchen too small for three adults and a child and a dog who doesn't understand boundaries.
"The children in Geneva are doing well," Marlee reports between bites of pasta. "Most of them have been placed with families. The ones who aren't ready yet are staying at the center, working with the therapists."
"And Marcus?" Lily asks. "The older boy?"
"He's training. Wants to be security for the center. Help protect the new kids." Marlee smiles at Lily. "He asked about you. Says he misses having someone his own age to talk to."
"Can I visit? When school's out?"
"We'll see," Jinx says. "It's a long trip."
"I can handle long trips. I flew from Singapore to Geneva and I didn't even complain."
"You complained the entire time according to Jace."
"I complained about the food. The food was terrible."
Marlee laughs. Biscuit steals a piece of bread from her plate. The evening light slants through the windows, painting everything gold.
"Thiago sends his regards," Marlee adds. "He's been in Dubai, cleaning up the last of Oswald's operations. Should be back next month."
"Good." Jinx reaches for the wine. "It'll be good to have everyone together again."
"Everyone?"
"The whole team. Jace and Elliot. Jonah. Thiago. Jagger, if he can pull himself away from work." Jinx glances at me. "I was thinking a gathering. Here. Celebrate what we've built."
"A party?" Lily perks up. "Can I invite friends from school?"
"Maybe not that kind of party." I ruffle her hair. "More of a family thing."
Lily pumps her fist. Biscuit barks. The kitchen fills with noise and laughter and the particular warmth of people who love each other. “I can’t wait to see my uncles.”
The rest of the afternoon passes far too quickly, but after Marlee leaves and Lily goes to bed, Jinx and I sit on the porch.
The night is warm, stars scattered across a sky that goes on forever.
The fields stretch dark around us, crickets singing, the occasional bark from Biscuit's dreams floating down from Lily's window.
"You're quiet," I say.
"Thinking."
"About?"
He's silent. His hand finds mine in the dark, fingers interlacing.
"A year ago, I didn't believe any of this was possible." His voice is rough, stripped bare. "I was so certain I was going to die. That the violence would catch up eventually. That I'd end on someone's blade or in someone's crosshairs."
"And now?"
"Now I'm thinking about tomato sauce. And homework. And whether we should get another dog." He laughs, quiet and wondering. "I'm thinking about growing old. Actually growing old. With you. With Lily. With this ridiculous life we've built."
"Is that scary?"
"It’s enough to bring me to my knees." He turns to face me, and even in the dark, I can see his eyes shining. "But I want it. I want all of it. The boring days and the hard days and the days where the bacon burns and Lily won't do her homework and Biscuit eats something he shouldn't."
"He ate a sock last week."
"He did. It was disgusting pulling it from his ass." Jinx grins. "I want that. I want every disgusting moment. I want a lifetime of mundane disasters with you."
"That's very romantic."
"I'm a romantic guy."
"You're really not."
"Hey, I’m trying here, let a man try for fucks sake." He cups my face, kisses me soft and slow.
I kiss him back. Let it deepen and let my hands find the hem of his shirt, the warm skin underneath.
"Inside," I murmur against his mouth. "Bedroom."
"Bossy."
"You love it."
"I do."
We make it to the bedroom without waking Lily or alerting Biscuit, which is a minor miracle. The door closes behind us, and Jinx pushes me against it, his mouth hot on my neck, his hands working at my belt.
"Slow," I say. "We have time."
"I know." He pulls back, meets my eyes. "But I want you naked as fast as possible so I can stare at how goddamn perfect you are.”
We undress each other as fast as possible. Shirts over heads, pants kicked away, until we're skin to skin in the dark of our bedroom. Our bedroom, with the quilt Marlee gave us and the lamp from the antique shop in town and the drawer of Jinx's knives that we both pretend isn't there.
Home.
I push him toward the bed, follow him down, cover his body with mine. He's hard against my thigh, his breath coming faster, but his hands are gentle as they trace the lines of my back.
"I love you," he says. The words come easy now, practiced, but they still hit me every time. "I love this. I love who I am when I'm with you."
"Who are you when you're with me?"
"Someone good." His voice cracks.
“Oh, my sweet pea. You are just as good as you are bad. Bad at going slow. Why is your finger already in my ass?” I chuckle as he presses it in further, trying not to moan. “God, Jinx, you’re not gonna make this easy are you? I didn’t say you could dominate me tonight.”
I kiss him before he can argue. Kiss my way down his chest, his stomach, the jut of his hipbone. Take him in my mouth and listen to the sounds he makes, the gasps and groans that still feel like victories.
He tangles his fingers in my hair, not pulling, guiding. His hips roll in tiny movements, restrained, controlled. Even now, after everything, he struggles to let go completely.
I work him slow, drawing it out, bringing him to the edge and backing off. His curses fill the room, creative and desperate, and I smile around his cock.
"Fuck, all I can think about is your cock in my ass.”
I release him, crawl back up his body, reach for the lube on the nightstand.
"I want you inside me," he says. "I want to feel you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
I take my time teasing him because he’s most beautiful when he’s edged. One finger, then two, watching his face, the way his mouth falls open, the way his eyes lose focus. He's fucking perfect like this. Open and wanting and mine.
Lining my cock up, I push slowly, forcing him to relax as I work in. When I finally push inside, we both groan. The heat of him, the pressure, the way he clenches around me like he never wants to let go.
"Fuck, you feel so good.” He squeezes his eyes shut as I snap my hips forward.
I move. Slow at first, finding the rhythm, then faster as he demands it. His nails rake down my back, his moans fill my ears, his body arches beneath me.
This is different from the first times. No desperation, no edge of violence, no fear that it might disappear. This is two people who know each other so intimately, we can love each other before fucking each other like animals.
And I do exactly that. Pulling out and flipping him so his ass is in the air, I drive my cock into his ass and thrust, holding his hips as my balls slap against his. “You’re. So. Fucking. Perfect. For. Me.” I grind out the words as heat shoots through my core.
"Fuck, right there," he gasps. "I'm gonna cum."
I reach between us, wrap my hand around his cock, stroke him with long, steady strokes.
"Cum with me, Jinx, I’m about to flood your ass.” I speed up, hitting that spot deep inside him over and over until he’s a groaning mess. Grabbing his hair, I yank his head back and growl. “Such a good fucking boy.”
He comes with my name on his lips, spilling hot over my hand, his body clenching around me. The sight of him, the feel of him, pushes me over the edge. I bury myself deep and let the orgasm rush through me, wave after wave, until his knees give out and I topple on top of him.
We lie there. Panting. Sweating. Still connected.
"I love you," I say against his neck as he flips us over.
"I love you too." His hand strokes my hair, lazy and content.
"Damn that was one hell of a ride."
"The best one."
He's asleep a moment later, breathing slow and steady, his weight warm against me.
I lie awake a little longer, listening to the house settle around us. The creak of old boards. The distant snore the dog makes when he sleeps on his face. The soft sound of Lily talking in her sleep, words I can't make out but that sound happy.
A year ago, I was a fighter without a future. A man who'd traded his body for survival and called it enough.
Now I have this. A home. A family. A man who loves me and a daughter who calls me Dad and a dog who eats socks and a garden that's somehow growing actual vegetables.
It's not the life I expected.
It's so much fucking better.
I close my eyes and let the darkness take me.
Home.