2 Asher
“I’ve spent my whole life dealing with monsters. I just never expected one broken girl to become my weakness.”
I don’t know what I expected when Grant sent me to the middle of rural fucking Pennsylvania for this job, but being woken up at one-thirty in the morning by someone pounding on my front door while continuously ringing the doorbell definitely wasn’t it.
I yank the door open, fully prepared to tell whoever it is to go fuck themselves, when a girl wearing nothing but a torn bra and black lace underwear collapses straight into my arms.
“What the fuck?” I growl instinctively as I catch her before she hits the ground.
Her body is trembling violently. Bruises cover her skin.
Blood streaks down her legs and arms from cuts and scrapes.
One side of her face is already beginning to swell, and rage instantly burns through my chest.
Then she looks up at me and suddenly, everything gets worse.
Because this isn’t just any girl. This is Scarlett Vale. The girl I was sent here to protect.
“Fuck,” I mutter darkly as I kick the door shut behind us and lift her effortlessly into my arms. The second I do, her body goes limp.
She passed out. Adrenaline slams through me as I carry her quickly through the house.
I need to clean her up, assess the damage, figure out how badly she’s hurt.
Part of me knows I should take her to the hospital.
But hospitals ask questions. Questions lead to police reports and phone calls to her father, and I can’t be sure yet whether Thomas Vale is involved in any of this.
I’ve only been here a week. Barely enough time to unpack, let alone gather intel on the family.
I pull my phone from my pocket and immediately call Grant.
“This better be fucking important, asshole,” Grant snarls the second he answers. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Well, I sure as hell wouldn’t be calling at one-thirty in the morning if it wasn’t,” I snap as I carry Scarlett into the ensuite bathroom.
“We’ve got a problem. Scarlett Vale just showed up on my doorstep barely dressed, bruised, bleeding, and is now unconscious. I need a doctor here immediately. Someone we can trust.”
There’s silence for half a second.
Then…
“What the fuck, Asher?” Grant explodes. “You had one job. Find the girl. Protect the girl. That’s it. How fucking hard is that? You’ve been there one week and she’s already hurt on your watch. I knew sending you was a mistake. I should’ve sent Roman. Hell, even Declan couldn’t screw up this badly.”
Anger flashes hot through me.
“Listen, asshole,” I growl, setting Scarlett carefully on the bathroom counter. “I just got here. I barely know these people yet. I didn’t let this happen, but I swear to God I’m going to figure out who did. And when I do…” My jaw clenches hard. “They’re going to regret breathing.”
Grant goes quiet.
“Just get me the fucking doctor,” I bite out. “I need to clean her up and get some clothes on her before they get here.”
Without waiting for another response, I hang up and toss the phone onto the marble counter. I slowly take her face in my hands and gently try to coax her awake.
“Hey, Red, I need you to wake up,” I say softly. “I’ve gotta get you cleaned up, and I don’t want you freaking out on me.”
She mumbles something under her breath but doesn’t open her eyes.
I glance down at the blood, dirt, and bruises covering her skin and let out a slow breath.
The shower is the only way I’m going to get all of this cleaned off without hurting her more.
I quickly strip down to my boxer briefs before turning on the water.
One thing I can appreciate about this house is the insane walk-in shower.
Steam quickly fills the massive marble bathroom.
Carefully, I lift Scarlett off the counter, still in her torn bra and panties and carry her into the shower with me, letting the warm water run gently over her back.
The second the water hits her skin, she startles awake.
“What’s going on?” she panics, immediately trying to pull away from me. “Where am I? Who are you? Let me go!”
“Red, calm down.” I tighten my grip just enough to steady her before she slips. “I’m not going to hurt you. You showed up on my doorstep bleeding and bruised half unconscious. I’m just trying to get you cleaned up so I can figure out how badly you’re hurt.”
She stills slightly, though her body continues trembling.
“I don’t trust that you can stand on your own yet,” I continue carefully. “Otherwise I’d leave you to do this yourself. Just… let me take care of you for a minute.”
Her wide blue eyes slowly lift to mine, filled with fear so raw it twists something ugly inside my chest.
“You’re not gonna hurt me?” she asks quietly. The question alone nearly breaks me.
“Never in a million years, Red,” I say firmly.
“Now turn around and let me wash your hair.”
She hesitates before finally doing as I ask.
I gently work shampoo through her thick waves, careful around the cuts near her scalp.
Every time she winces, rage burns hotter beneath my skin toward whoever did this to her.
By the time I finish rinsing the soap from her hair, she’s barely keeping her eyes open again.
I shut off the water and wrap a large towel carefully around her before guiding her out of the shower.
And that’s when I realize I’m completely screwed.
Because even bruised, terrified, and exhausted, Scarlett Vale is still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
Long auburn-brown waves cling damply to her shoulders.
Her body is soft and curved in all the right places, not fragile, not manufactured perfection like the other girls around here seem to be—but real, human.
Her bruises only make the protectiveness inside me worse.
I force myself to focus. She needs help, not some asshole staring at her while she’s vulnerable.
I lead her into the bedroom and hand her a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from my dresser.
“Put these on,” I tell her gently. “I’m gonna give you some privacy.”
Grabbing my own clothes, I head back into the bathroom long enough to change.
When I walk back into the bedroom a few minutes later, Scarlett is curled tightly into herself on the bed, her eyes closed like she’s trying to disappear into the mattress.
I start toward her just as the doorbell rings through the house.
I open the door to find a man in his fifties standing on the other side, dressed in dark slacks and a button-down shirt hastily thrown beneath a wool coat.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Bennett,” he says quietly, holding out his hand. “A Mr. Knight called me and said there was an emergency situation requiring complete confidentiality.”
“Yes, please come in.” I shake his hand before stepping aside to let him enter. “You spoke with my brother Grant, I’m assuming. Sorry for dragging you out here at this hour. Honestly, I was caught off guard myself.”
As I lead him through the house, he studies me carefully.
“Mr. Knight didn’t tell me much,” he says. “Only that there was a very important client involved. Young woman. Cuts, bruises… possible additional injuries.”
“Yeah.” My jaw tightens. “She showed up on my doorstep about thirty minutes ago wearing nothing but a ripped bra and underwear. Looked like she’d run through the woods barefoot. Her feet are torn up, she’s covered in cuts and bruises, and one side of her face is swollen.”
The second we step into my bedroom, Dr. Bennett freezes.
“Jesus Christ…” he breathes. “Scarlett?”
His entire expression changes instantly.
“Oh my God. Scarlett, sweetheart, I need you to wake up and look at me. It’s Dr. Bennett.”
Scarlett stirs beneath the blankets before her eyes slowly flutter open.
“Dr. Bennett?” she whispers weakly. “What are you doing here? Where am I?” Panic suddenly flashes across her face. “Harper. Oh my God, where’s Harper? I left her in the guest room. Please tell me she’s okay. Please don’t let them have gone after her too.”
She bolts upright, breathing hard.
“Hey, hey.” I immediately sit beside her and gently rub her back, trying to calm her down. “It’s okay. Who’s Harper? Do you want me to go get her?”
“Harper is my daughter,” Dr. Bennett says quickly while pulling out his phone. “She and Scarlett are best friends. She was staying over tonight after Scarlett’s birthday party. Scarlett lives in the house next door”
He immediately dials Harper.
“Harper, listen to me carefully,” he says firmly the second she answers. “Where are you?”
He pauses.
“Okay, I need you to lock the bedroom door and stay inside until morning. Do not open the door for anyone except Barry. Call him when you wake up and have him drive you home.”
Another pause.
“No, don’t argue with me. Just do what I’m asking right now. I’ll explain later.”
He hangs up before walking back toward the bed.
“Harper is fine,” he assures Scarlett. “Apparently she drank a little too much champagne and slept through everything. She’s locking herself in the room for the night, and Barry will drive her home tomorrow.”
Scarlett visibly relaxes for half a second before everything crashes back over her again.
“Now,” Dr. Bennett says gently, though there’s frustration beneath it, “do you want to tell me what happened tonight?”
Scarlett lowers her head into her hands and starts crying. Instantly, rage sparks inside me again. The doctor isn’t trying to upset her, I know that, but after everything she’s been through tonight, hearing her cry like that makes me want to put my fist through a wall.
“Harper and I had some champagne at the party tonight,” she says shakily between sobs. “After everything I was required to stay for was over, I had Barry help Harper back to the guest room, and then I went to bed.”
Her breathing becomes uneven.
“The next thing I knew, I woke up being carried outside toward the guest house. There were two guys I’d never seen before… and Celeste.” Her voice cracks. “The guys…” She clamps a hand over her mouth. “Oh God. I can’t……I can’t say it. I’m gonna be sick.”
She suddenly scrambles off the bed and rushes into the bathroom. A second later, I hear her vomiting. When she finally comes back out, she curls herself onto the far side of the bed, as far away from both of us as possible.