Chapter 20
Ella
Isqueeze Asher tighter, cuddling him on the bed, my stomach finally settling. I haven’t puked, thank God—that would have been so embarrassing. The ginger ale worked, and my second one is on the nightstand, but Asher’s fingers running through my hair is what’s bringing me back to life.
When I opened the door to him earlier, he’d looked so concerned, and I’m glad he’s here. I like that he worries about me, even when my pain is self-inflicted.
“Remind me never to drink tequila and run.” I sigh.
“Why were you even running?”
Because your brother is a total asshole and hurt my feelings.
“I can’t remember.”
Gable really had hurt my feelings. It’s rare anyone gets under my skin, but it was the way he’d said it.
I know I’m not the most exciting person in the world.
The kind of life I lead could be seen as boring, but I like it, and what the hell is wrong with that?
But my fears that my job have consumed me and turned me into an anti-social bore surfaced and it hit me harder than anything else he’d said.
“I have a surprise for you,” Asher says, kissing my temple.
I look up at him. “You do?”
He smiles and nods excitedly. “If you can stand, drunkard.”
“I can stand,” I say, but I do still feel a little woozy. He takes my hand and leads me to the second bedroom, and when he opens the door, my hand flies to my mouth.
Bookshelves. He’s built my bookshelves. And every one of my books, my babies, that have been kept in dusty boxes for months, are now on full display. My very own library.
“You did this today?” I ask, my voice breaking, and he nods. His smile is so warm. His gesture is so beautiful. And maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s how he’s looking at me, but tears fill my eyes. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and try not to cry, but damn, it’s hard. This man swept into my world less than a month ago and has officially made my life. With bookshelves.
Asher touches my face, and the moment between us feels more real than any we’ve shared before. His mask falls away again, and I see something in his eyes that both frightens me and pulls me in.
His voice is low, his expression soft as he says, “I love you.”
Everything inside me bursts into our memories, from the moment we met until right now, and it seems absurd to hear those words from a man I barely know, but what’s more absurd is that I’m considering saying it, too. Tingles run across my skin and my heart feels full, almost bursting from my chest.
Should I say it back? Am I there? I may have only known him a few weeks, but surely love isn’t measured in time? He’s perfect. Perfect for me, perfect for my life, and I don’t want to lose him.
“I have to tell you something,” he whispers.
I search his eyes, swallowing hard.
Oh, God, he’s married, isn’t he?
“What?” I ask, clinging to him.
Hammering on the door brings us back to reality and I pull from Asher’s arms, answering to a flustered Gable.
“Where’s Asher?” He bursts into the apartment, and I stumble back to let him in.
I’ve never seen Gable like this, and any other time I’d kick him back out or make fun of him, but half of my heart is still in the conversation with Asher.
“I’m here,” Asher says, frowning. “What’s—”
“Our friend Monty,” Gable says, eyes flicking between Gable and me. “That job for our third party. It’s been … increased.”
Asher stares at him, and I cross my arms. “You burst into my apartment to talk about work? Are you a loser?” Gable places his entire hand over my face to shut me up. “Why do you smell like pussy?” I ask, smacking his hand away.
“Another story for another time,” he says, still staring at Asher. “Third party. Two fifty.”
I’m still scrunching up my nose, both at the interruption and the pussy, but when I see Asher’s face, a tendril of fear curls around my heart.
“Where is she?” Asher asks.
“Taking a nap,” Gable says. “Another long story.”
My heart pounds. “What is happening right now?”
“Pack,” Asher says to Gable. “I need to talk to Ella.”
I glance between them, my panic rising. “Pack for what? Are you leaving already?”
Gable swears under his breath and leaves, slamming the door closed behind him. My heart is officially hammering, my throat dry. Asher stays on the spot, hand over his mouth, not looking my way.
“Asher, what’s going on?”
When he raises his eyes to mine, I want to go to him, but my instinct keeps me in place.
Something is seriously wrong here, Ella.
“I still need to tell you something,” he says and clears his throat. “But I need you to try and stay calm. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Oh, fuck this. Get your gun.
I back away. “Why would I think you’d hurt me?”
There’s a gun in the desk by the balcony doors. I edge back, keeping my eyes fixed on Asher’s, wondering how this night has turned so quickly.
He looks so sad that I’m moving away. He looks broken.
Fuck him. Trust your gut, Ella.
“I was sent here to get something from Barnaby,” he says. “He had something that dangerous people want.”
Dangerous how?
Whether it’s my instincts, my writer’s brain, or my overactive imagination, I suddenly feel cold. “Where is Barnaby, Asher?”
Asher stares at me, a war in his eyes. “He’s dead.”
Oh. Fuck. Me.
Shivers work their way down my spine, and I whisper, “How?”
He pauses. He pauses and he shouldn’t, because the answer should be simple. Barnaby is at his mom’s, or maybe he finally got arrested, or— “I had to do it, Ella.”
No. No, no, no…
“No. You’re joking. This is a joke.” I try to smile and pray for a punchline. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
Asher shakes his head, the action barely perceptible. “I’m sorry.”
The gun, Ella.
I pull open the drawer and grab the weapon, flicking off the safety and pointing it at him. “Get the fuck out.”
He doesn’t even look at the barrel. “Ella, please. You know me. You know I’m not a bad person.”
“I thought I knew you. I don’t know shit about you,” I say. He moves closer, and I pull back the hammer. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I will, Asher.”
I will. I never aim a gun unless I mean to use it, that’s what my dad taught me, and right now, I’m in the room with a murderer. A killer. A guy I had in my bed minutes ago. A guy who made me feel good and built my bookshelves and rubbed my back when I felt sick.
How had he done this?
“Ella, I know you’re scared—”
“I’m not scared; I’m fucking angry,” I say, blinking back hot tears. “I’m angry I didn’t see right through you.”
“I would never hurt you.” He sounds so sincere that I almost crumble. “It’s just a job, that’s all. I did it to survive. But I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to get out; I don’t want to hurt more—”
I tremble. “You’ve killed more people?”
He falters, but the truth seems to win out. “I’m paid to do it.”
My entire body shakes so violently I’m worried I’ll drop the gun. “What, like a contract killer? You and Gable?” Oh God, I’m going to be sick.
He nods, and I can’t hold back my whimper.
“I wasn’t going to tell you. And I wasn’t going to let this happen, but I fell for you. And … I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, but now you’re in danger, and I can’t let anything happen to you.”
I flex my hands around the gun. “Me? Why me?”
“I don’t know, but you were a job, too,” he says, and my heart sinks. “At first!”
My back meets the wall. “You came here to kill me.”
“Yes, but I knew something didn’t add up, so I didn’t. And I was right: there’s no reason for you to have a bounty, but you do. It might be your connection to me, it might be your dad, but they know about you,” he says, stepping forward. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
“You stay the fuck away from me.”
Where’s your phone, Ella?
I glance at the kitchen counter where my purse is. Right next to Asher. If I want out of this, there’s only one thing I can do.
Shoot him, Ella.
“Please let me protect you,” he says. “I love y—”
“No!” I scream. “You’re tricking me. This was all a fucking trick. You don’t love me.”
My words break him, I see it happen, but I’m humiliated. I bragged about this guy, fell for him, and now I feel like an idiot. He isn’t the person I thought he was. Not even close.
Tears fill my eyes. “You’ve done nothing but lie to me.”
“I haven’t, Ella, I promise,” he says. “Just this side of my life, and I couldn’t tell you. Everything else was true. My life, my mom, Gable, how I feel about you—it’s all fucking true.” He swallows and takes a deep breath. “But we have to go.”
“We?” I actually laugh. “You think I’m going anywhere with you?”
“Ella, there are people who are going to kill you,” he says. “They won’t stop until they’ve succeeded. You cannot stay here. You have to come with us.”
Fuck. You. Buddy.
“Not a fucking chance.”
The door opens, and I almost stumble backward. Gable appears, Motor at his feet, bag in his hand.
He looks at me. “She took it well, then?”
“Not now, Gable,” Asher snaps. “Ella, look at me.” I do. “I’m still the same guy. And I love you. I can’t leave here knowing you could be dead next week. I’m sorry, but even if I have to force you to leave with me, I will.”
“Fucking try,” I snarl, squaring my shoulders.
“Leave her,” Gable says. “I’m not dying because she’s stubborn as fuck.”
“Keep talking, Gable,” I whisper through gritted teeth. “I might hesitate killing Asher, but I’d have pointed a gun at you today for no reason at all.”
Gable rolls his eyes. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Five minutes. My advice? Ditch her.” He whistles high and quick and Motor follows him out.
I don’t move, don’t falter, don’t let myself tremble anymore despite the overwhelming urge to do so. Asher stares at me and then notices my purse. He opens it and takes out my phone, holding up a hand as he crouches and slides the device across the floor to me.
“If you won’t let me protect you, then call your dad.”
I glance between the phone and him.
“I don’t care how you’re safe, just as long as you’re safe,” he says.
“Call him. Tell him everything I just told you. Tell him you need people protecting you twenty-four-seven. You need to get out of this apartment, out of the city if you can. Out of the country is better. Do not trust anyone except your dad. Not a fucking soul. Do you understand?”
Is this a trick?
What is he doing? Is he waiting for me to reach for the phone, so I’ll be distracted?
“Ella, call him, now.”
My breathing quickens. I’m sweating from fear and anticipation of having to squeeze the trigger and kill a man I care for. But I reach my leg out, pressing my toes to the phone and pulling it closer, all the while keeping my eyes fixed on Asher’s face. He doesn’t move. Not an inch.
I cautiously bend down and pick up the phone.
“Siri, call Dad,” I say. We both stand in silence as I hold the phone to my ear, one hand still gripped around the gun, my eyes locked with Asher’s.
“Hey, baby,” my dad says cheerfully.
“Dad, I need you to look up Asher and Gable Flynn, now.”
“He won’t find anything,” Asher says.
There’s a pause before my dad speaks again. “I did the moment you met them. They’re clean. Why?”
I swallow. “He’s standing right in front of me, and he says he killed Barnaby.”
“What?” My dad’s voice becomes clipped, tense. “Where are you?”
“At home. I have my gun on him,” I say, and hearing my dad’s voice has my tears resurfacing. One slides down my cheek. “Dad, he says I’m in danger. He says people are coming here to kill me.”
Asher looks like he wants to comfort me. And the worst thing is, I want him to.
“What people?” my dad says before shouting instructions to people in the background. “Officers are on their way. I’m on my way, baby.”
“Asher, what people?” I ask.
“People like me. People like the man last night,” he says. “It might not be now, but it will be soon. There’s a bounty on your head.”
My throat closes, but somehow, I speak. “Did you hear that, Dad?”
“I heard. Why is he threatening you?”
I don’t want to say what I say next, because I know the moment the words leave my mouth, it makes them real. The moment I say what I’m about to say, I’ll weaken.
“He’s not threatening me,” I whisper. “He’s warning me.”
Asher’s eyes are glassy. I want to go to him. Everything my dad ever taught me keeps me in place, but everything I’ve learned about Asher makes me want to run to him.
“Warning you?” my dad asks.
“I have to go, Dad.”
“Stay on the line with me, baby, I—”
I hang up, sliding the phone into the back pocket of my jeans. My grip relaxes on the gun, but I keep it pointed in Asher’s direction.
“I’m so sorry, Ella,” he says. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I tried so hard not to fall for you.”
Another tear falls down my cheek, and I wipe it away as I lower the gun. “You have to go. They’re coming.”
He looks at the door, then back at me.
“Go,” I whisper, the tears falling freely now.
How long has it been since we were standing at the bookshelves?
Five minutes? Ten? It can’t have been long since he told me he loved me, and I wanted to say it back.
But now everything has changed, fragmented, and I’m lost in the drama that’s unfolded.
All I know is that I don’t want him arrested.
I don’t want to see my father take him away.
I cover my face with my hand, my lip trembling as I sob, and when I feel his arms around me, I lean into him. I cry into his chest, the gun forgotten, the confessions forgotten, too.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, and it sounds like he’s crying, too. “I’m so, so sorry.”
I look up at him, but I can’t speak. His cheeks are wet with tears, and I can’t believe that this is goodbye.
Did I really fool myself into thinking he could be forever?
He kisses me, and despite myself, I kiss him back.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips, and then he’s gone.