Chapter 4
4
EVIE
O ver the next few days, Ash was attentive but also gave me space. I stayed in the room above the bar most of the time but ventured downstairs for meals and to just talk to him. It felt good being around others, and slowly, I felt that hard shell I’d built around myself starting to crack.
It was hard not to notice Ash’s protectiveness becoming increasingly clear. It wasn’t in a way that scared me, but more like he recognized the pain and fear I’d been enduring—what I tried to hide—and he wanted me to see and know I was safe with him.
I’d learned a lot about Ash in my short time with him. I knew he was the type of man who needed to control everything around him, who ran his bar—his world—with an iron grip. But he was also kind. He gave free meals to hungry patrons who didn’t have enough money, and he listened intently as his customers told him stories, knowing they needed someone to just be there for a moment.
But then I started noticing the way he watched me —not just out of habit or instinct, but because he was looking for something deeper. He was studying me, trying to figure out the cracks in my armor, the places where I’d been broken.
His eyes flashed with possessive concern.
More than anything, I’d always hated feeling like someone could see through me, and Ash definitely could.
Being with my ex taught me that I needed to perfect the art of disappearing in plain sight, of making myself small, quiet, and—hopefully—untouchable. And yet Ash saw me. All the time. He wouldn’t allow me to fade into the background.
I should have hated it, but instead, I liked it. I liked that he knew I was here and that he cared.
I focused on the present and stared at my empty plate. I’d just finished dinner, full and content and happy for the first time in years.
The bar was empty. The last of the regulars had filtered out into the night, leaving behind the low hum of the neon signs along the walls and the faint scent of whiskey lingering in the air.
I’d taken a table in the corner, keeping out of the way so Ash and his employees could work. But now that everything was quieter, I watched as Ash methodically wiped down the bar top, his movements steady, unhurried. He refused my help, but I got up, taking my dirty dishes as I walked to the kitchen, and cleaned them myself. Then I went back out, stepped behind the counter, and started drying the cups he just washed.
“You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I said, cutting him off and flashing him a small smile. “It’s the least I can do.”
He grunted as if he didn’t like the idea of me working but gave me an accepting nod. He had said little all night, but I’d caught his occasional glance in my direction, like he was making sure I was okay.
The silence stretched between us, but it was comfortable, and I was grateful for having his company.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but firm. “You gonna tell me what you’re running from?”
My stomach clenched, and my grip tightened around the glass in my hand. “Who says I’m running?” The lie was thick and sour on my tongue.
Ash let out a low exhale, tossing the rag over his shoulder as he leaned against the bar and looked at me. “Evie.” He didn’t go on, just stayed silent, until I eventually gave in and glanced at him. “I can look in your eyes and know that whatever brought you into my bar days ago carved something deep and dark into you.” His eyes locked onto mine. “I know it’s hard for you to trust. But I hope after these few days with me that you can see my intentions toward you are genuine and pure, and all I want is to make sure you’re safe.”
I looked away, his gaze burning into me as he seeked the truth. I stared at the countertop like it held all the answers I didn’t want to give, and then I sighed.
“Evie Harper,” I whispered, and I lifted my eyes to see he was smiling.
“You gave me your last name.” His smile grew, as if I’d just given him the best gift.
I didn’t respond, because the tone in his voice told me he was… happy.
Anger at myself and my situation rolled through me. “You know nothing about me.” I squeezed my eyes shut, because I’d known this moment was inevitable.
“I don’t need to be told anything to know that you’re hurting,” he countered softly. The words were simple. Direct. They hit harder than I wanted them to.
A sharp exhale escaped me, and I swallowed, my throat tight, my heart pounding in my chest. The anger that had been buried deep, that had simmered over the years and eaten away at me from the inside like a poison, suddenly bubbled over, hot and bitter.
I looked at Ash then, his expression unflinching, unwavering. Tears welled up, and I hated that I was suddenly so emotional that I couldn’t control myself. “You don’t get to look at me like that. Like you understand.”
Ash didn’t move. He didn’t react. He just waited. He just stared at me, waiting for me to feel comfortable—or angry enough—to tell him what was truly wrong.
I blinked several times, my unshed tears finally escaping and rolling down my cheeks. I aggressively wiped them away. “I used to be strong,” I snapped, my voice shaking. “I used to have a life. A real one. I used to be someone who mattered.” My breaths came out short, uneven. “And then, little by little, he took that away from me. He made me believe I was nothing. That I was worthless. That I deserved nothing except what he gave me. And when he had me so broken and beaten down that I believed it.”
Ash stayed silent, listening, giving me the time and airspace to tell my story the way I wanted to. I knew if I told him I wasn’t ready to talk about it, he would have accepted my decision.
My chest ached, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “I knew if I didn’t leave, I wouldn’t survive. So I left in the middle of the night with nothing but what I could carry.” My voice wavered, but I forced myself to keep going. “And now I’m here—with you—and I’m trying to figure out who I am again.”
Silence filled the space between us, thick and suffocating.
I turned away, shaking my head, wiping away the remnants of my tears. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” My voice was barely above a whisper.
Ash came closer, but he didn't touch me. He just stood right beside me, solid and unmoving, his presence alone sucking the air from my lungs.
I braced myself for him to say something—anything. I expected him to say I was weak or broken or foolish. That’s what I was used to. That’s what I expected.
Instead, Ash surprised me.
He reached out, rested his palm on my shoulder with the gentlest touch I’d ever felt, and turned me around so we faced each other. I didn’t recoil. Didn’t flinch. His touch was… comforting.
He stared into my eyes, this bareness in his own so prominent that it was startling to see a man—especially one so big and gruff—looking so… vulnerable.
“You’re safe,” he told me once again, his voice strained. And I couldn't react to his words or how he said them, because a second later, he pulled me into his arms.
I stiffened, but not because I didn't like his touch. In fact, it was the opposite. It surprised me, because it felt perfect and right , and when the shock finally dissipated, I relaxed and sank against him. “Ash?—”
“Shhh,” he muttered against my hair. “Just for a second, Evie. Let’s just be quiet and take comfort in each other.”
I gave in without argument. I didn’t want to fight him. I didn’t want to push him away or tell him I didn’t need this.
I did need it. I realized I needed everything Ash freely gave me.
Because for the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt safe. And I felt that not because I was alone. Not because I had built my walls high enough to keep everyone out.
But because, somehow, against all odds, there was someone willing to stand with me and hold me up when I felt like I was about to fall apart. There was someone willing to go to bat for me—a stranger—and make sure I was never hurt again.
Ash’s voice was low and rough, like he was forcing the words out. “I believe things happen for a reason. I know you showed up at my bar because that’s just what was meant to be.” He kissed the crown of my head, and I shuddered when all my earlier anger faded away. “It’s gonna be okay, Evie.”
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to so badly, and he made it so easy to do just that. I let myself feel the weight of Ash’s arms curling around me and holding me like he was going to make everything okay.
Because it really felt like he could.