Chapter Four
Zuri
I can’t decide what I think Ash will say when she gets here.
Will she try to be some kind of martyr and break things off with me “for my own good”?
Because if she tries to pull that shit, she doesn’t really know me at all.
I’ve been on my own, taking care of myself for years, and I don’t need someone to start making decisions for me now.
I head straight for the shower, braids tucked up under my shower cap. There’s nothing like standing under the hot spray of water to help clear your head. Unfortunately, I don’t have things sorted out any better than I did before.
After using my favorite body oil, I pull on a T-shirt and a pair of sleep pants, and a few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door.
I was lucky enough to get a single. It’s small and can be lonely, but the space feels more and more like both me and Ash now—just like her dorm room does. There’s a bottle of her perfume and some of her makeup in my bathroom. She has a toothbrush here, and I have one at her place, too.
The romance novel she’s been reading sits on my nightstand, and her favorite sneakers are by the door.
I like sharing a space with her. I always want to share a space with her.
As I stand here, on one side of the door with Ash on the other, I’m taken over by a new wave of frustration about being so in the dark about what’s going to happen; that she might throw us away before we even have the chance to see what we could be.
I tug the door open, trying not to get distracted by her beauty, and the first thing I say is, “I’m going to be really fucking pissed if you’re here to break things off with me.”
She smiles—God, she smiles—and she’s so gorgeous I nearly lose my balance.
“Fuck, you’re great,” she says.
“Then why are we in this situation to begin with? Why are you keeping things from me and shutting me out?”
The smile slides off her face, and she sighs, as though I reminded her of the heaviness of the situation. “Can I come in?” Aislin asks, and I stand aside, signaling for her to enter.
She does, and I close the door behind her. Ash steps out of her shoes, setting them by her sneakers, and says, “We need to talk.”
“Yes, I agree.”
She bites back another smile, then takes my hand and pulls me to the bed. We both climb on, sitting cross-legged while we look at each other.
I wait because there’s not much I can say until she lets me know what this is all about.
“I like you so much,” Ash starts by saying.
“I like you so much, too.”
She picks at the nails on one hand with the other, something I’ve noticed she does when she’s nervous.
She’s trying to hold a brave front. That’s Ash.
She’s always trying to be brave, to keep everyone together, to have all the answers, but there’s only so long a person can do that.
“Talk to me.” I reach over and take her hand again.
“You’re always there for everyone else, always the one people can count on.
I want to be that for you. I want to be your soft place, Ash, where you can let everything else go and just be. ”
“You are,” she says.
“No, I’m not. How can I be if you lie to me? If you break our plans and don’t tell me why? Sneak away with your family to deal with whatever it is you have to deal with, and then just pretend everything is okay when we’re together? That’s not how relationships work.”
“I know, God, I know. And that’s why I’m here. I want to tell you everything. I want you to have all the answers, and then the decision is yours to make. If you want this, if you want me—and I really want you to want me, Z.”
I nod, unsure if there’s anything she can tell me that would make me not want her anymore. Maybe I shouldn’t feel that way. Maybe I should be the type of person who walks away right now, but I’m not, and I won’t, not unless she doesn’t treat me the way I deserve. “I’m listening.”
She takes a deep breath and says, “My family…we’re in the mafia.”
I can’t help but let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda figured that out.”
“Stop.” She laughs, then pulls her hand away and buries her face in them. “What is wrong with me? I’m not being myself at all…it’s just, I’ve never had to do this. I’ve never had something like this, something I want so badly and I’m so afraid to lose.”
“Oh, baby. You’re not going to lose me. We just need to be on the same page.” I peel her hands away, and she looks at me, green eyes all watery and sincere. I pull one of her hands over, kiss her palm, and scoot closer.
“Everything you’ve probably heard is true,” she starts.
“I don’t want to hear it from other people. I want to hear it from you.”
Aislin nods. “My dad…he used to run the O’Sheas, and his father before.
He was an awful person. He was terrible to all of us.
Every bad stereotype you can think of, that was him, and I think my biggest fear is that you’ll think we’re like him.
And I get it; in some ways, we are. Everything you read is probably true: drugs, guns, money laundering”—she looks directly into my eyes, not breaking the contact or allowing me to either—“murder.”
My hand shakes. I knew it. Obviously, I did, but believing it and hearing it confirmed are two different things. “Anyone? For no reason?” I ask.
“No. That’s not how it works. I won’t lie to you and tell you that an innocent person has never become a casualty. If we’re going to do this, you deserve the truth. But as a whole, it’s people who are like us, people who do the same things we do, or people who hurt those we love.”
People who hurt those they love. Again, obviously, I knew that was a possibility. People they love could get hurt, but her spelling it out for me is different.
“How involved are you?”
“Not directly. Tiernan and my uncle Rian are the bosses. Cillian and Rory are in the middle of it, of course. They sell drugs on campus.” She pauses after that, as though she’s letting it sink in.
“I don’t do any of that, but when I was gone, in Boston…
Shai’s mom had been kidnapped. They went to get her back.
A lot of people died. No one on our side, but two people did get shot—Shai’s mom and Conan. He’s like an uncle to us, too.”
It hits me then, everything she’s telling me. Not all the bad things, because my brain created enough stories for me to imagine all the things they do, but the risk she’s taking.
I could tell people.
I could pretend to want to be with her and go to the police.
I could ruin them all. “You shouldn’t be telling me this,” I say, and her eyes widen.
“I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to know. Isn’t that what this is all about?”
“That’s not what I mean,” I clarify. “I could betray you. Your whole family is at risk with you telling me this.” It’s wild how I surely had to have realized this before, but the reality of it hadn’t hit me until now.
“Yes,” Aislin agrees. “But I trust you. I want to make this work. I want a future with you, and we can’t have that unless I show you all the parts of me…and you choose me anyway.”
It’s there in her words, how much she needs this, too. To be chosen. To bear her truth and to be loved, regardless.
“Okay,” I say. “You can trust me.”
She gives me a nod and then starts talking again.