Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
AISLING
“Oh… my… God…” I say, my hand coming to my mouth in shock.
My place is trashed.
Completely fucking trashed.
Why?
What did I do to deserve this?
I need new everything. Cabinets, a couch… a fucking door.
My mind is numb as I watch Cyrus vacuum up all the glass that’s shattered on the floor.
“You doing okay?” Hash asks, breaking me from my thoughts.
Am I doing okay?
What a loaded question.
“I’m doing okay in the sense that we’re all okay, but I’m not doing okay that my stuff is destroyed.
” I let out a bitter laugh as I place my hands on my hips and tilt my head up.
“That sounds so stupid. I should be grateful. It’s just stuff at the end of the day.
All of this can be replaced.” I wave my hand around, trying to keep the tears at bay. Sniffling still makes my face hurt.
The swelling has gone down drastically from my icing and the pain pills Doc and Hash gave me, but the bruise is no less faded.
“It’s not fucking stupid. This is your place that you worked your ass off for, and some piece of shit came and took part of that. You’re allowed to be upset,” Hash says as he opens up a trash bag. “And mark my words, baby doll, that piece of shit's days are numbered.”
I know they are, and it feels like a double-edged sword. I want him to get what’s coming his way because karma is a bitch, but I don’t want that bitch to be Hash’s hands. I can’t lose him again.
“Let’s just clean this up. I don’t want to look at it anymore,” I tell him as I grab handfuls of stuffing that’s scattered across the living room from the couch cushions being cut open and putting it into the trash bag Hash is holding open.
“Whatever you want,” Hash says as he helps me.
I’d like to say it didn’t take us long to pick everything up, but it did. I just zoned out through most of it. Cyrus brought a speaker and turned on some music, allowing me to escape into my head.
By the time mid-afternoon rolls around, Cyrus, Hash, and I have the living room, dining room, and kitchen cleaned up.
The guys took the cabinet doors off completely since most of them were holding on by a hinge, anyway.
Hash told me he would sand them down to get the scratches and dents out, and I wouldn’t even be able to tell they were messed up.
I was okay with that because I’ve been wanting to change the color of the cabinets since I bought the place. It just hadn’t been in the budget. The orangey-brown stain just wasn’t my vibe.
The couch is a lost cause, unfortunately.
I can’t go through my homeowner’s insurance because we didn’t report the break in so I can’t claim it because it would start a whole investigation that me or the club doesn’t need.
And two, my deductible is two thousand dollars.
I would rather pay that money toward a new couch and not have my rates go up.
I’m also thinking of telling Frankie I need to go furniture shopping and she can help me pick out everything, which will help butter her up for me not telling her immediately about this entire ordeal.
“Knock, knock,” a deep voice calls out in the backyard, making all our heads turn.
Scotch and Cain are walking through my backyard carrying a sliding glass door, heading toward the patio.
“You didn’t.” I gasp, turning to Hash, who is looking at me with a suspicious innocent look on his face.
“I don’t know where they got that.” He shrugs.
I arch my eyebrow at him, not believing him for a second. “I’m sure you don’t.”
“You needed a door, Aisling.”
“I did,” I agree. “But I didn’t mean for you to buy it. A sliding glass door costs a lot of money, Hash! That one doesn’t look cheap.”
I eye the door. There’s no denying that it’s fucking gorgeous, but it looks like a lot more than I wanted to spend.
“Don’t worry about it.” He shrugs again.
Don’t worry about it?
“It’s a lot of money, Hash. More than I wanted to spend,” I admit as I watch Cain and Scotch rest the door up against the side of the house.
Normally, I would be embarrassed saying I can’t afford something, but I’m all out of fucks to give.
“What are we doing here?” Hash asks unexpectedly, making me turn my attention to him.
“Cleaning up my house…” I answer slowly, unsure of where he’s going with this.
“Right. I’m talking about you and me, baby doll. Are we doing this?” Hash asks, his green eyes staring into my soul.
“Doing what exactly?” I ask, slightly confused. I think I know where he’s going with this, but I need the words to come straight from his mouth.
“You and me.”
“Am I missing something here? We already have a kid together so, yeah, I’d say we’re doing this.”
“Then let me do my part. Things have moved pretty fast, and I haven’t had a chance to bring it up yet, but I don’t want you and my son sleeping under a roof without me. I know you worked hard for this place and made it yours, but it’d be appreciated if you let me make it ours.”
Holy shit.
Everything I’ve ever wanted is at my fingertips. All I need to do is reach out and let him take the lead.
“Okay.” I swallow. Hash’s eyes widened in surprise.
“But if you and I are going to be a we,” I point between us, “we need to have a discussion before one of us just goes out and blows a bunch of money.” Hash opens his mouth to interject.
“No.” I hold up my finger to silence him.
He playfully leans down and nips at it, making me smile.
“I understand money isn’t an issue for you, but it’s been an issue for me.
I don’t want to blow everything we have saved.
It’s okay not to buy the top-of-the-line thing every time. Okay?”
“Are you saying you don’t like the door?”
I playfully groan. “You know I love it. That’s not the point.”
Hash’s lip tips up as his arm wraps around the back of neck, pulling me in against his chest. “I know what you mean. I promise to sometimes talk about expensive purchases with you.”
“Sometimes?” I ask as I look up at him, my brow arching.
“Some stuff is nonnegotiable. Like the couch. I’m not parking my ass on an uncomfortable couch.”
I roll my eyes. “We can’t have that.”
Hash releases his hold on me. “Why don’t you see what we need to do in your room while I help the guys put this door in? Cormac’s room is good except that it needs a new door.”
Ugh, my room.
I blocked it from my brain because thinking about more than just the main living area of the house was enough to almost send me spiraling.
Growing up, I was a room child, which then transferred into adulthood even though I live alone. It’s my comfort space, and I can’t kick the habit of retreating there when I feel the need to chill out or take a break.
So yeah, knowing that my comfort space got trashed too made me a little bit more than upset.
“It’ll be okay,” Hash tells me, his voice low. “Remember, anything that’s fucked up can be replaced. You can’t be.”
“I know,” I say on an exhale.
Hash gives my shoulder a squeeze before placing a quick kiss on the top of my head before leaving to go help the guys. I grab a new trash bag and head down the hall, stopping in the doorway of my room.
It’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be.
Yeah, all of my drawers are out of my dresser with the clothes scattered across the floor as well as everything on the random floating shelves I had on the walls. My full-body mirror is the only thing that seems to be actually broken.
I decided instead of putting all the clothes away, I’m going to wash everything because I don’t know where that sicko’s hands have been.
I shudder at the thought.
After loading up the washer and shoving the rest in the hamper, I borrow the shop vac Cyrus had to vacuum up the broken glass and throw away the frame of the mirror.
The comforter has a slash across the top of it as well, but I’m not upset about it. I have a spare one in the hall closet, and I’ve been wanting to replace this one for a while; I just hadn’t had the push I needed to spend the extra money on it.
Why is bedding so expensive for literally no reason?
I smile to myself as I notice the missing pillows on my bed. It’s little things like that that make me so grateful for him because he’s paying attention even when I don’t think he is.
I poke my head into Cormac’s room, not that I don’t believe Hash, but I need to see with my own two eyes that my baby’s room is okay.
I breathe out a sigh of relief at seeing that it is.
My eyes linger on the spot I stood shielding Cormac from the man, the memory not fading anytime soon.
Maybe I need to redo his room as well. Kind of like a new start for everyone.
“You ready to head out?” Hash asks, coming up behind me.
“Yeah,” I answer, turning around to face him. “Let me just grab the bag of trash out of my room and I’m good to go.”
“You doing okay?” Hash asks, checking in on me again.
“Yeah,” I tell him, and it’s the truth. “I think I built up the damage more in my head with everything that happened. Knowing that I can finally redo everything I’ve wanted to change is making me feel better about the whole thing.
A fresh start will help with me not seeing him standing over me every time I look in Cormac’s room. ”
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Hash mumbles under his breath as we walk out into the living room.
Everything is already packed up, and the new door is installed.
“You guys work fast.”
“It’s easier when you have more hands.”
“That’s true.”
“Let’s go get our boy,” Hash says as he wraps his arm around me.