Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
You don’t hate me, you hate that you don’t.
My hands fist the steering wheel, knuckles pulling so tight they threaten to split.
The road curves ahead of me, morning light just barely bleeding through the trees, announcing a brand new day.
Crawl Back To My Coffin by Dayseeker blares through my speakers, rattling around inside of my skull, but it doesn’t drown him out. Nothing could.
I rapidly wipe away the tears that are threatening to spill over my lashes, furious they’re even there. Furious that he put them there.
Those words knocked my whole world on its axis.
Because if I don’t hate him, then what the hell have I been holding on to all these years?
He hurt me. He lied to me. He left me in that house.
He left, and then I was adopted by people who were worse.
People who pretended they wanted me, and when I didn’t fit their idea of the perfect daughter, ignored me. Hid me away.
He left me alone.
I’ve managed to stow that hurt away in a little locked box, wrapped in a bow and tucked in the darkest depths of my mind–and replaced it with hate. Life was simpler when he was gone. Then, he came back and ruined everything.
I tried going home after leaving the casino, but the silence was too loud, making my brain itch–that little locked box rattling, demanding to be let open.
I couldn’t take it so I left. Letting off the gas, I bring my Q8 to a slow and throw on my blinker.
Trees cover the dirt drive, and Parker’s house comes into view as I get closer.
I don’t want to drag her into this mess, I just don’t want to be alone.
I don’t want to talk, and I know she won’t force it.
Putting the car in park, I look over to see Maverick’s truck and bike still parked in the garage.
Perfect. Killing the engine, I step out and make my way to the front porch, my steps slow.
Dragging myself up each step, the door opens before I get to it.
Parker’s amber eyes light up when she sees me, but the excitement quickly dissipates when she really takes in my appearance.
I’m exhausted, my eyes red from the lack of sleep.
Hell, I'm still in my work clothes. Stopping in front of her, my fingers knot at my stomach. She notices, because she’s the most perceptive person I know, and for good reason.
The hell she went through makes mine look like a day at the beach–she survived and with that comes a type of hyperawareness I’ll never understand. It hurts my heart for her.
Looking up, Maverick looms in the entryway behind her. His eyes soften a touch when he sees me, and I do my best to fake a smile. They both see right through me. Parker wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulls me over the threshold.
“Come on. Do you want some water?” she asks softly. A lump forms in my throat, but I manage a nod.
“Maverick, can you please get it for her while I go get her a change of clothes?” she asks him.
“Of course.” He disappears into the house as she leads me into the living room. I sit on the couch, and Bane hops up next to me. He sniffs my hand, then lays his head across my lap. My hand mindlessly wanders to the top of his head, scratching behind his ears.
Parker exits the room as Maverick comes back with a bottle of water, placing it on the coffee table in front of me. He looks at Bane, then at me. Doing the best I can, I give him a small smile, my mouth refusing to produce the words “thank you”. He nods, then walks back to the entryway.
When she returns, Parker holds a pair of gray sweatpants and a tee shirt.
Placing them on the coffee table, she drops down in front of me.
Reaching out, she brushes some hair off the side of my face and cups my cheek.
My eyes meet hers, and I can feel the emptiness she sees. Not tears, not anger–empty, numb.
“What did he do?” she asks softly. The lump in my throat grows, and I swallow it down.
“N-nothing.” The word comes out broken, cracked. It feels like lava coming out. Because he didn’t do anything. She nods in understanding.
“Then what did he say?”
My eyes go to Bane instead of her, feeling Maverick’s intense stare from across the room at her question. He steps toward the living room, but she throws up her hand. He stops and she gets up and walks to him.
“You should get to work. I’ve got this,” she whispers.
“Okay, sweetheart. Call me if you two need me.” He leans into her, kissing her lightly then walks out the door.
After he leaves, I change into the clothes Parker gave me, and drop back onto the couch.
Pulling a throw blanket over my legs, I lay down, Bane quickly getting comfortable next to me once again.
Parker doesn’t pry. She just watches me, and I see the moment she makes a decision.
Coming back over to me, she drops a kiss on top of my head.
“I’ll be right back,” she tells me, my eyes flash to hers.
“Don’t,” I whisper, but she’s already at the door. She turns to look back at me and smiles sweetly, her keys jingling in her hands.
“He’s a big boy, he can handle it.” With that, she shuts the door, the lock clicking behind her. I let out a sigh.
The house grows quiet, Bane’s ears twitch as he tracks Parker’s car down the driveway. He settles in closer to me when he can tell she’s gone, Talia makes herself comfortable on the floor next to the couch, and I close my eyes.
Karson said he could handle me, but I wonder if he can handle Parker.
The seven of us slip into the club in staggered intervals, shadows tucking away into darker ones. Predators pretending to blend. We spread across the first floor, backs to the wall, eyes everywhere.
Something’s off. Deep inside the belly of Rapture, everything feels wrong. My pulse won’t settle. My skin pulls tight with the constant flexing of my muscles. It’s packed tonight. Shoulder to shoulder. Loud. Chaotic.
And she’s not at the bar.
My gaze sweeps the area over and over. But I don’t see her. My heart rate kicks up violently inside my rib cage.
“Slater-” I start, but his voice comes through before I can finish.
“Second floor.”
The words gut me. Two words and fear explodes in my chest.
“What the fuck?” I’m already moving. “How long?”
“Since she clocked in,” Jeremy answers in my ear, calm but thinner than usual. “Isla grabbed her before she could drop off her stuff in her locker.”
I’m furthest from the stairs.
Of fucking course I am.
“Owen,” I bark. “Move. Now.”
He doesn’t hesitate. People crash into me as I shove through the crowd. Someone’s drink sloshes down my arm. Grabbing him by the collar, I launch him backward without stopping.
“Karson, you need to hurry,” Jeremy says.
Finally hitting the stairs, I take them two at a time. My world slows, just like my steps as I reach the landing. The bass from the music thumps wildly, the loud chatter and laughter blends with the music, but her voice cuts through all of it.
“I said I’m working,” Ashlynn says, her tone firm.
The crowd, much smaller than the one downstairs, parts just enough for me to get a clear view of what’s happening.
Ashlynn has her back against a wall at the end of the bar, and a man cages her in, his hands on the wall at either side of her head.
She ducks in an attempt to escape. He ducks with her, preventing her from moving.
The people up here carry on about their night as if hell isn’t about to be unleashed.
“Back off, man,” Owen booms from behind the guy, who lets out a drunken laugh.
“Karson, stand by,” Jeremy says tightly.
Like fuck I will.
I say nothing.
“Karson, talk to me,” Maverick cuts in with a sharp edge.
Silence. My feet carry me forward without a sound.
“Fuck,” Slater hisses. He sees the impact before it gets a chance to land.
“Start clearing out the second floor,” Maverick orders, and Owen moves toward the hallway where the private rooms are. I hear Kellen come up the stairs behind me and start ushering people downstairs.
“Ah, hell,” Cole says through an exhale.
As I approach, the slimy fucker’s hand reaches for the hem of her shorts.
Her eyes widen, and lift to mine when I get behind them.
Relief washes over her features. Pulling my gun from the small of my back, I jam it into the back of the man’s head.
He freezes, and I reach forward. Grabbing the hand he touched her with, wrenching it away from her.
The man makes a confused sound, like his brain hasn’t figured out yet that the reaper is holding his ticket.
“What the-”
I shove the barrel harder into his skull.
“You picked the wrong woman.” My voice is even, calm.
Lethal.
I bend his wrist until it pops, the crack loud and ugly. I turn him toward me. His scream finally pulls attention from the rest of the room, heads turning. People stumble as reality punches through the drunken haze. Owen is already moving them away.
Good man.
My focus doesn’t leave the scum in front of me, and I shove him to his knees.
“You touched my dolly,” my voice is even but the tone carries something sinister, twisting his wrist with each word with more and more force. My aim stays trained on him with my other hand.
Through his drunken sobs, I make out words like please, and don’t. They always beg.
Ashlynn’s breathing behind him is ragged. Her eyes never leave me.
“Second floor clear,” Kellen’s voice says over the earpiece.
“Third floor clear,” Levi adds.
“Finish clearing the first. Shut this place down now,” Maverick orders.
“Step aside, doll.” Ashlynn slides along the back wall and gets back behind the bar.
I squeeze the trigger.
The shot is deafening in the quiet, small space. His body slumps forward. His blood paints the floor. Ashlynn steps back out, stopping at the man's feet. The world narrows. The club, the crew, the body bleeding out between us. Gone. There’s only her.
Her chest rises fast, eyes wide, lips parted. I should see fear behind her eyes, but I don’t. She looks at me like she finally understands something.
“Ash…” Her name leaves me roughly. Not a command or a warning. A prayer.
She steps over the body. Her shoes smear in the puddle of blood and she doesn't notice. Or she doesn't care.
Behind me I hear movement–Owen securing the stairwell, Slater giving updates, Cole bitching about the clean up–but it’s all distant. I pluck out the earpiece and drop it on the floor.
She stops right in front of me, her scent wrapping around me, almost suffocating.
So fucking close.
Her hands fist in my shirt like she needs something to hold on to or she might fall apart. My free hand comes up on instinct, sliding into her hair.
“You came,” she breathes.
It wrecks me.
“Always,” I answer.
In this moment I know, everything is about to change.