Chapter Twenty-Two #2
He pressed a long kiss to the top of my head, and my eyes fluttered shut. Deep down, I knew that if he wasn’t here, I’d be a mess, digging myself into holes that would take me months to crawl out of. At this point, I owed Ash Doss more than my life. I owed him my sanity.
He shifted, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “I can practically hear the gears turning in that gorgeous head of yours.”
“Sorry,” I rasped. “No matter how hard I try, I can never seem to get them to stop.”
“Baby,” he whispered, pain in his voice.
“I’m certain I’m neurodivergent, but I haven’t had the…strength to go and get tested.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Jake has AuDHD.”
“Really?”
He nodded against me. “He got diagnosed before I left. It helped him a lot.”
I swallowed. “I don’t want to do anything right now. Not until things are settled.”
“Then you won’t. It’s your life, Angel. You do what makes you comfortable.” He paused. “You sure you want to talk about all of this? You’ve had a crazy week.”
My eyes started to water. “I know that.”
“There are things we need to talk about, but I don’t want to ruin this.
” His voice was rough as his hand found mine.
He brought them to my chest, pressing them against my heart.
The water was warm, steam lifting from our skin as he said, “Despite it being in the middle of a shitstorm, this has been the best night of my life.”
Mine too. I dropped my head, my eyes on our legs and the ripples bouncing off them.
“I just…I have so many questions and everything I thought I knew—” I cut myself off and squeezed my eyes shut.
“I had no idea that you were left at the horrible place. You took a bullet for me, and Agent Masters promised she would send backup.”
“Angel—”
“I should’ve never let her put me in that car,” I rasped, ignoring the glass in my throat. “I should’ve fought to stay with you.”
His voice was merely a whisper, a broken confession that didn’t even meet the walls. “I would’ve never wanted that. The state you were in…you needed medical attention. You didn’t need to be the hero.”
“But you were abandoned.”
Didn’t he get that? He was hurt because of me. Left to die.
He was quiet for a moment, but thankfully didn’t make me wait long for an answer. “I need you to understand something, Angel,” he began, trailing a finger over my shoulder. “There will never be a day or even a moment in my life when I regret doing what needed to be done in order to save you.”
“But—”
“Even if you were never in danger after I pulled you out of that house,” he cut me off. “I still don’t regret searching for you. My only regret, my love, is not finding you sooner.”
My love.
I twisted, gripping the edge of the tub, gaping at him. My voice cracked, a heavy weight on my chest. “What did you just call me?”
His eyes flicked up from my back to mine. “You heard me.”
My cheeks heated and my heart started to race. “You can’t say things like that unless you mean them.”
“I do,” he confirmed, gently pushing me back against him. His lips brushed against my temple. “But I won’t say it again until you’re comfortable with it.”
A lump formed in my throat. “And what if I have regrets about that day?”
He sighed and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, holding me steady as a storm raged in my head. “Please don’t.”
“I survived, and you—you went to god knows where to find me,” I croaked.
“Yeah, and I’d do it all over again just to be right here. With you.”
Guilt poisoned my blood, consuming me from the inside out. “Please, tell me. Tell me what you went through.”
His arms tightened for a moment. “I can’t.”
Don’t push.
Don’t push.
Don’t push.
“I understand.” And I did. There were parts of my trauma I never wanted to talk about, not even with the pages of my journal. Some things were just too dark to bring into the light.
Another sigh left him as he rested his arms back on the edge.
I pressed myself farther into him and brought my knees up, waiting.
There was a stretch of silence between us, the only sound coming from the drip from the faucet.
The flames of the candles were mostly steady, aside from the three dancing flames scattered throughout the row.
I watched the middle one for some time, listening to my heartbeat slow, feeling the safety of his body around mine, the warmth of the water.
Steam drifted up to the candlelight to dance before disappearing into the unknown.
Ash inhaled a soft breath, and when he released it, his chest shook.
“I can’t tell you, Angel, because I don’t remember half of it.
” Water sloshed over the edge of the tub as I shot up and looked back at him, hitting the tile with a splat.
He wasn’t fazed, his face soft, his shoulders still relaxed.
Slowly, his brows came together as he reached up, stroking his knuckle across my jaw.
“It’s all right,” he murmured. “Come back to me.”
I shook my head, feeling sick. “Memory loss can be from trauma.”
He nodded. “Yes, I know.”
My face twisted as my stomach tightened, pain blooming there. “Ash—”
“What’s done is done, yeah? When I’m in a bad way, I have a session with Dominic. It’s okay, Angel.” His fingers traced my jaw. “I’m okay.”
“So you don’t remember where you were? Where this ‘hell’ was?”
“I knew where I was because I walked in there searching for you,” he said, scanning my face. Pain shot through my soul, nearly tearing my heart right down the middle as my mind conjured up horrible images of him in pain.
His hand disappeared. “I was in Devil’s Den.”
A chill slithered down my spine, the name changing the air between us. “What is that?”
His dark eyes fell away from me, focusing on the sink across from the tub.
“It’s a city underneath a city—or it was.
A few years ago, a client of ours and his team went down there after his brother and exposed it to the FBI,” he explained.
He scratched his jaw, water trailing over his forearm, dripping from his elbow.
In the candlelight, he looked like a fallen god, forced to seep in his own misery for all eternity.
“Granted, half of the government is fucking evil, so it wasn’t really a surprise to hear that Devil’s Den had never really been shut down. ”
With a pinched brow, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“There’s an expansive drug network in Devil’s Den. Red Snake has run into it a few times, but there are more players with deeper pockets coming into play.” His brows came together, a muscle in his cheek jumping. There was more he wanted to say, but he didn’t.
“Were you drugged?”
A huffed laugh came from him, humorless and full of pain. “Most likely, yes.”
Another shiver hit me, memories, dark and wretched, poked out from the darkest part of my soul, grinning. I looked around the bathroom. I couldn’t hide in here. “I don’t want to be in here anymore.”
His reply was instant. “This doesn’t deserve space anywhere near our bed.”
My love.
Our bed.
“I’m cold,” I lied.
He studied me, his dark eyes flashing with guilt. After a few strained seconds of quiet, he nodded. “Then let’s get you warm.”
When we were both dried and dressed, I shut off the bathroom light and moved toward my bed, my body sore, my mind and spirit running on fumes. My mind was screaming at me to do my skin care, to get back into my routine of safety and peace, but I was nowhere.
“Starlight.”
Ash was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest, a pair of black sweats hanging on his hips. His hair was damp, wild and curling at the ends, and the shadow of the past was looming over him like death, waiting to strike.
And the scary part was, I was willing to go down with him.
“Yes?”
“Told you I’m not bringing that shit into our bed.”
“This is my bed.”
“You just took my cock, baby. That’s our bed until you're done with me.”
I jerked, not only at his words but his tone. “What makes you think I’ll ever be done with you?”
“The look in your eyes.”
I blinked and shook my head. “Trust me, that has nothing to do with you.”
He grunted, pushing off the frame. “You telling me that my shit is triggering for you?”
My mouth opened and closed a few times. When the truth refused to come, I gave him my back and walked to my dresser.
My perfume collection stood proudly in the center, various bottles and liquids of all shapes and colors.
I’d spent years finding scents I liked, and one of my favorite things to do before bed was find a scent to accompany me to sleep.
Ash’s footfalls echoed through my room as I stared at my favorite floral perfume.
It was nearly empty, and the only place that sold it was this little shop in Canada.
It was expensive and had lasted me nearly three years.
Ash’s body heat surrounded me as he braced his hands on the dresser, caging me in. “Tell me the truth,” he commanded. “Will my story trigger you?”
He didn’t leave me much room, but I turned around to face him. “Yes.”
“Then—”
I put my hand on his chest. “You’re going to tell me because we can’t move on until you do.”
His fingers gripped my chin, forcing my head back. “What the fuck?” he rumbled, his eyes flashing with anger. “Move on?”
“I want you, Ash. I can’t have you unless we heal from this—from Benson.”
“I can assure you, Angel,” he said darkly, “Benson will never be a problem for you again.”
“Yes, I know. Agent Masters told me he’s dead and—” My mouth snapped shut, eyes going wide as it hit me. “Wait.” I dropped my hands from him, chest heaving. Malice lingered in the air. “How did you know he was dead?”
Those dark eyes looked me up and down as he bent his head, getting close. “Did you honestly believe a man like me would let that monster go unchecked after what he did to you?”
I jerked back against the dresser, a perfume bottle rolling. He caught it just before it fell off and gently put it back, not once taking his eyes off mine.
“Is Masters closing the case or do I need to hit the road?”