Chapter 5
Ashia
Leanne Hartley
I’m sorry, Ashia. I really tried to keep him here, but he’s already halfway out the door and threatening doctors. It looks like we’re headed to the house.
I read Leanne’s text, and a wave of disappointment floods me.
A sigh escapes my lips before I can stop it.
I haven’t had the chance to talk to Damien yet.
There’s so much that he doesn’t know, and I knew this would happen from the moment I told his parents we found him.
I should’ve waited longer, but right after I came back inside and saw her worried texts, I knew I couldn’t keep it from them anymore.
There’s no way to know how Damien will react to the news.
I mean, he thinks his dad is dead. How can I gently tell him that he isn’t?
Over the past couple of days, I’ve forced Victoria to tell me everything.
Every tear. Every scream. Every cut. Every.
Little. Thing. Any act that they committed against him, I forced her to tell me—even the things that he doesn’t know happened.
When I wasn’t soothing Damien through his pain and hallucinations, I was talking to her.
Well, threatening is a more accurate description, but it’s close enough.
I never thought I could know hatred like this.
The moment I even think of her name, I want to start slashing out at her again.
I want to reenact every single thing they put him through, only on her.
The urge to make her pay for what he endured is bubbling just under the surface of my skin, and I don’t know how long I can hold back.
The moment I’m able to move as freely as I want, all bets are off.
She better be so far away from me that I’ll never be able to find her, because she won’t like the hell that I’ll rain down upon her once I’m able to.
All I want to do is kill her, and he asked to see her.
He—my husband, Damien Alexander Hartley—asked to see her.
Not me. He woke up, snuck past me, and then asked for her.
That alone made me want to stab her in the throat, just to prove a point.
He’s fucking mine. I’m horrible, and I know it.
There’s no reason to be jealous. She knows firsthand what he went through, and there are a million platonic reasons that he would ask for her attention.
He would never look at anyone else the way he looks at me, and deep down, I know that.
Just like I understand that Damien will come to me when he’s ready, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be okay with her being anywhere near him.
A part of me knows it wasn’t just her, and regardless of if I believe her or not, there is a chance that she truly had no choice.
But the only other people responsible for this are either dead or gone in the wind again, and I have no one else to blame.
Carter ran that phone she keeps through his software, and the photos and messages are all original.
He even dug into the programming and discovered that she was telling the truth about its possible usage as well.
Anything, except for that one phone number, is blocked.
They even disabled the emergency call capabilities, and Carter said that was a difficult feat.
“I don’t like this,” Zeke seethes as he paces the living room and stares out of the windows like an elephant is going to barge through them.
I may not be able to see Victoria very well, but I know that’s exactly where Zeke’s eyes are.
Mine are on Damien. He’s standing so stiffly, like he’s just waiting for one thing to move in a way he doesn’t like, and he’ll freak out.
“I don’t either, but he needs a few minutes,” I argue back, as much as I hate it.
He’s outside talking to her. I shouldn’t let her anywhere near him, but I meant it when I said I would give him whatever he needed.
I just hate that what he needs right now is her.
It almost makes me sick. That, and the baby dancing around in my stomach doesn’t help.
I had no idea babies moved around as much as they do, and while I’m so in love with every twitch, it doesn’t take away from the unsettling feelings Victoria brings.
These feelings of malice, all mixed with my wiggly little worm and the heat weighing me down, might actually cause me to throw up.
Zeke grabbed one of Damien’s long-sleeve shirts out of our closet for me, and it's containing my body heat pretty well. It smells like him, and the fabric is comfortable, but the heavy material that covers my entire upper body might just be my demise. I’m actually sweating.
It’s gross, and I hate the feeling of my hair sticking to my scalp.
My fingers rake through my long strands, trying to get some air between the thickness, but it doesn’t really work.
“You should take that shirt off, Ash. You’re going to give yourself a heatstroke.” Zeke glances over at me before fixing his sights back on her.
“I can’t do that. He’s not stupid, Zeke.”
“I’m not saying he is. Tell him the bruise is from the crash.”
“I’m not even sure if he knows we were in the crash yet.
It’ll be fine. I’ll turn the air conditioning up in a few minutes.
I just didn’t want him getting too cold.
” I settle back against the couch and pick up my hair, desperate for the breeze outside to reach the back of my neck.
Zeke and Serena swore to never tell Damien that he grabbed me during one of his nightmares, and they better keep it that way.
He doesn’t need anything else on his conscience.
DeLuca and Saconne have given him enough to fight through, and while I never want to keep anything from him, I’ll take that one thing to my grave.
“You’re not doing anything. I’ll do it once they come back inside.”
“I can do it, Zeke. The doctor said bed rest for only two days, remember? It’s been two days.”
“You promised you’d make it four with how much you’ve been moving around.”
I roll my eyes at him, but it’s not his fault.
I did promise that, and I regret it now.
As I turn my gaze back to the doorway, I barely notice Daisy whining.
She’s sitting halfway between me and the door, obviously conflicted about where she should go.
It’s clear that she can sense Damien’s agitation, but she’s assigned to me.
“It’s okay, Daisy. He’ll be back inside soon.
” I try to comfort her, but she just turns her head at me and sighs, like I don’t understand her turmoil.
Then her attention is forced past me, and her ears perk up.
Grease and Derek walk in from the back bedroom, carrying out the last of the medical supplies that have to be returned.
Hopefully, the hospital won't notice after Carter and Kade adjusted their inventory, but I suppose we won't know until he goes in later.
Derek has a shift at the hospital, and Grease needs to get back to the MC.
Luckily, the only person Grease has really spoken with is Viking, and it seemed like he was handling things okay while Grease stayed here.
Derek sticks his hand out to me, and I force a grin as I shake it.
“You’ve got my number if you need me to come back, right?” he asks.
“Yeah, Derek. I’ll let you know. Thank you again for everything.”
“Anytime. Just remember to be patient with him and try to keep his environment as calm as possible.”
“Will do.” He grins back at me, and nods lightly to Zeke before making his way to the garage door. Grease steps up to me next and takes my hand as well. This handshake is a little friendlier, and there’s sincerity behind it.
“You’re sure you’re good, mama?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for helping Zeke find him. It means a lot to us,” I say honestly.
“It’s all good. I’m glad he’s doing better. I’ll let you know when I work out the details with the doc, alright?”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Grease.”
He squeezes my hand a little tighter and then steps back to follow Derek.
The three of us had come to an arrangement on ordering medical supplies over the past couple of days.
Grease doesn’t need as much for the MC, obviously, but we’ll order for the Attic in case of medical emergencies.
Apparently, Derek will ‘continue’ his under-the-table work for Grease—which I didn’t even know about.
There’s a lot that goes on around here that I was apparently oblivious to before, and now I’m wondering if Damien even knew about it.
That conversation is definitely going on the backburner, though.
Once Grease shuts the door, and I look back towards Damien, he’s already making his way back inside.
The same worried look is on his face, and even though his features are tight and harsh, he still looks so tired—like he should sleep for the next year.
He storms his way over and stands next to me, but he doesn’t look down at me yet. He’s too busy searching the room.
“Where’s Carter?” he asks angrily and looks over to Zeke.
I sit up a little straighter at the edge in his voice.
The baby starts to do her crazy kicks and flips again, and I lay my hand on my stomach as a calming gesture.
I just want to poke my belly to try and get her to kick hard enough to feel on the surface, but I refrain for now, knowing that Damien needs my undivided attention.
“He’s ups—”
“I’m right here, D.” Carter calls out from the stairs, and I look back just in time to see him trot down the wooden steps with Serena in tow.
She smiles lightly at me and then walks into the kitchen to grab her purse.
I had asked her to run out and grab Victoria some essentials, like a toothbrush and clothes so she wouldn’t have to wear mine anymore.
Now seems like a good time while we help Damien calm down. “What’s up? What do you need?”
“Is Alex here, too?”