Chapter 16—
Mace
I roll onto my side, hugging my knees into my chest and curling inward.
“They’re going to pay,” Ash growls in a whisper. “For every punch… for every kick… for every—”
He doesn’t finish that last thought.
His voice sounds so far away, but I know he’s right behind me on the floor instead of in his own bed across the room. I don’t know why. I don’t want him anywhere near me.
Thomas and Johnathan dropped us off at home. We’re back in our parents’ shitty apartment. But with an abusive father who has sick friends and even worse enemies he owes money to, and a mother who drinks to escape, we’re not much better off here. We’re no more than a means of payment.
No one will protect us. No one cares.
I blink and wipe the tear that runs down the side of my face before it can soak into the pillow.
“We’re going to make them pay for everything,” Ash resumes. “We’re in this together, Mace. You and I.”
He doesn’t reach out his hand—doesn’t try to touch me. And I’m glad. Because in that moment, I don’t know what I’d do. In that moment, I hate him.
—
I hate my brother.
For no other reason than them picking me out of the two of us.
Of course I hate them, too, for what they put us through, but they’re no longer breathing, so that only leaves him.
The resentment toward Ash is always there. Slumbering. Some days, the hatred flares so hot I can’t even look at him.
Like today.
We sit in the break room at lunchtime, but I’m not hungry. I can’t even stand the thought of food right now.
His phone buzzes where it lies face down beside him on the table. It’s been going off all morning, and he didn’t say anything, but I just know it’s her.
It’s Ash’s turn to pick Em up from the diner—his turn to have her to himself—and it makes my stomach ache. I’m nauseous thinking of the two of them alone.
Glaring at my lunch, I catch the sound of the keys as he replies to the text.
Elbows propped on the table in front of me, I brace my forehead on my hands.
The fingers of my right hand are stretched around a clenched fist, flexing every so often as images of my brother’s paws on her form in my mind.
Of her on his bike, her thighs spread around him.
“You okay?” he mumbles around his sandwich.
Before I’m forced to respond, the door swings open .
My head lifts to see Isaac walking in, the travel mug in his hand his only source of sustenance at the shop. He usually goes home for lunch.
Acknowledging us with a curt nod, he pivots toward the counter to get a refill from the fresh coffee I put on. It’s all I can keep down.
My eyes follow his motions, ignoring Ash’s obnoxious chewing in my periphery. Isaac sets the glass pot down, fastens the lid then swings around.
I’m not surprised when he pulls out the empty chair to my left and joins us at the small round table that really only seats three. Even though he doesn’t eat here, we use this time to chat.
I push my sandwich away and cross my arms on the table, facing him. “Have you found a replacement for Tatum yet?”
His daughter has made plans to move away with her fiancé after their wedding in a few months. Other than managing sales, she has no interest in running the shop, which is why he’s considering leaving it to Ash and me.
Isaac lowers his mug, stretching his legs out as he leans back in the chair. “I got a couple of applications, but no one feels right yet.”
“I offered,” Ash cuts in. “You know I can multitask.”
Isaac arches a brow, tipping his travel mug toward him. “I’d prefer someone with better people skills than you.”
Ash shrinks back. “What’s wrong with my people skills?” He throws up his palms in defense.
Isaac shakes his head and laughs. “I know you’re good at charming your way into a girl’s pants, but I require some professionalism in the storefront. 99% of our clients are male.”
“And you don’t think I can charm my way into a guy’s pants? I bet I could have them eating out of my hand.”
“I’d almost pay to see that,” Isaac mutters, raising the mug back to his lips. “Almost.”
Just then the door handle dips again, and Tatum pokes her head in.
“Oh, hey guy,” she chirps in her usual, carefree tone. A soft smile stretches her lips, finding its way to her golden brown eyes. “Sorry to bother you on your break, Dad, but can I borrow you for a moment?”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
Isaac rises and follows her out, leaving Ash and me alone.
The man isn’t wrong about her being hard to replace.
Besides being great at her job, she’s the first person to make contact with customers entering the shop, and she leaves quite the impression.
Blonde curls frame her face, and as far as I’ve seen, she always carries a positive attitude. It’s infectious.
“Hey man,” I poke at Ash, “maybe you can rekindle things with Tate and get her to dump her fiancé for you. That would take care of our replacement issue.”
She had a casual thing with him a little while back. Before she met Mr. Right .
The last bit of his sandwich pauses midair. His eyes narrow into slits, and he glares at me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Stifling a grin, I challenge him with a shrug .
I know there’s no way, and I’m happy Tate found someone to get serious with, but I still like poking at my brother. ‘You don’t screw the boss’s daughter.’
But that’s Ash, putting his dick where it doesn’t belong, breaking rules, changing deals. And Isaac doesn’t know about the fling either. He treats us like sons. For 10 years we’ve worked here.
Ash takes a swig of his water bottle while I continue burning a hole into his forehead. He thinks he’s so slick he can get away with anything. Just someday I wish his shit would catch up with him.
He crushes the sandwich wrapper into a ball and shoots it in a high arch from where he’s sitting into the trash bin by the door.
His phone buzzed again.
He tips it up to give the screen a glance, then refocuses on me. Crossing his arms on the table, he mirrors my pose and smirks, a glint in his eyes.
“I’m taking her out after work.”
Heat shoots up my neck. “Taking her out?” I parrot, knowing he’s talking about Emily now.
“Yeah. Like a date.”
A date? Something snaps inside me hearing that word, and then I remember it’s her night off.
My lips twitch under the friction of my teeth as every muscle in my body flexes. I draw heavy breaths. I want to explode. I want to rip Ash across the table and fight it out with him right here .
But I know whether she does or doesn’t give it up to him tonight isn’t up to me. It’s her choice, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Bracing my palms on the table, I push to my feet, swiping my lunch up as I turn to leave.
Or at least not much , I think, balling the paper around the sub and dumping it into the trash on my way out.