Page 6 of Ruthless Rebel

3

ASHER

Lying awake listening to Logan being fucked by the help on the other side of the wall is not exactly how I would choose to spend my evenings. In fact, I would rather stick TNT in both my ears and blow them clean off. Yet by some sick intervention of the gods, and Elle King, my bedroom here at the house just happens to share a wall with Lincoln Blackwell’s. It seems my best friend didn’t see any sense when allocating all the rooms on this side of the house to each of us. I mean fuck, I’d rather have endured Jace Conrad and all of his escapades, not that he has any with his girlfriend lately, but I’m sure it would be better than this hell I find myself in almost every weekend recently.

I could always go home. I don’t technically live here, not after I dropped more zeros than I cared to count on my penthouse in town, but no matter how much time I spend there, it just doesn’t feel like home yet. It’s always cold and lifeless, which I should be used to given the house I grew up in, but it seems even burning that to the ground didn’t erase the ghosts that haunt me.

Waking up to my daughter is the only thing that keeps my head on straight these days, and given the tainted blood we bothshare, I have a lot to make up for to give her the best childhood possible. Which means I only ever end the night at the penthouse when I have an early meeting at the office, or if I know Cassie is out of town, which isn’t very often, so most nights I end up here, waiting for her to wake up. And it’s for her that I must suffer Blackwell and his bullshit, and as for Logan, well I am sure he will get bored of Lincoln soon like he does with everyone else, and I can go back to my peaceful, sleepless nights.

Determined to ignore the two of them, I give up on the sleep that always eludes me, and decide to change into some workout clothes and head down to the gym to clear my head instead. It’s there where the other Rebel of the South Side finds me, and not the one I can actually tolerate.

A few months ago Jace Conrad could barely remember where this place was, but since getting out of rehab he seems to have turned things around. He doesn’t acknowledge me of course, his eyes barely ever turning in the direction of what he sees as a deadly Donovan. Not that I can blame him, the sins of my father and brother against him can never be repaired no matter how hard I try. I wish things were different, I wish I could bring his sister and Taylor back, I guess I wish a lot of things, but none of that matters now. Things happened, and we are all stained by them forever.

We train in silence for about an hour before Marcus joins us with a smile. If there’s one thing that made it through all the darkness it’s him and Elle, and I will always be grateful for it. The love he shows my best friend, and in turn our daughter, gives us all hope in the wake of tragedy, and I don’t think he will ever know how much I appreciate him.

He makes his way to me first, knowing that now he’s here I won’t stay long, because if he’s here then my daughter is awake and my workout is over. He waits for me to return my weight to the stand before he holds out his fist, and I sit up and bump itlike I am another one of his Rebels, which in his eyes I am, and for that I smirk as he teases, “Look who made it home to mom and dad’s house again.”

I roll my eyes at his joke, reaching for a towel to wipe my brow as I toss back, “If I didn’t come home, mom would hunt me down, and we both know I don’t want to be on the end of that pretty lethal weapon.”

“Are you talking about her blade, or my soon to be wife herself?” He muses with a smile, reminding me happily about their upcoming nuptials.

Most people might think that they are too young to get married, but those people don’t know Elle and Marcus. They were made for one another, and I can’t wait to walk my best friend down the aisle in a few weeks and watch the two of them promise to love each other forever, just like they did when we were ten years old.

“Both, always both,” I laugh, as I stand from the weight bench and grab my discarded workout top. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there is a pretty girl waiting upstairs for me,” I start as I move past him towards the door. “And my daughter is with her too,” I add with a smirk, dodging the workout towel Marcus snaps at me as I leave.

“It’s not too late for me to kill you, you know,” he yells at my retreating form, and I laugh.

“Someone already tried and failed that, remember?” I toss back, not missing the look in Jace’s eyes through the mirror as I say that, and I grimace a little as we both remember the day we almost died. It’s the only common ground we share, except where I remember it as us and them, he remembers it as them and the Donovans. All of them, including me.

It’s why I don’t stop or turn around and try and say anything else, I don’t bother waiting to hear if Marcus responds, or if Jace chips in. I just keep my legs moving as my fingers absentmindedlyreach up and caress the spot on my chest that bears the scar that saved Elle’s life.

I still remember that split second that almost cost me her, and it was a no brainer, it was her or me, and I chose me. I took that bullet without a second thought, ready to die for her, to let her live, to let my daughter have her mother, and I haven’t once regretted it. The scar doesn’t just remind me that I almost died, it also reminds me that I almost lost her, and that is something I never want to experience again. It’s why I don’t let people in, because the more you have, the more you have to lose, and I already have way too much.

After the fourteen hour surgery that saved my life, I woke up and realized how much I truly have in my life, and it’s something I’m still not sure how to deal with. I don’t feel emotions like normal people do, I don’t indulge in things as simple as lust, or sex, or even friendship outside of Elle. Yet here I am now, not just with Elle and Cassie, but Marcus, Zack, the Roytons, and hell, even the damn Rebels despite me trying to avoid them, and it leaves me feeling weak. That’s too many people to protect, I almost already failed once, and I don’t plan on ever doing it again.

After I burned my family estate to the ground and ruined my father’s business, I focused on helping Elle with the setup for The Kennedy Foundation, and Zack with Royton Tech, all while letting my own business deals run themselves with the people I employ in the background. I have more money than any one person would ever need, and I use it all to protect my family.

It’s with that thought in mind that I head to my room to shower and change for the day, then go in search of my daughter. I find both her and Elle in the kitchen making pancakes, which is no surprise to anyone if you know the two of them, and when I push open the door and enter, they greet me with matching smiles.

“Daddy,” Cassie squeals, clapping her flour covered hands in my direction, to which I move toward instantly. “We’re making pancakes,” she adds, as I reach her, and when I scoop her off the island she giggles.

Whenever I have her in my arms like this I can’t help but wonder how my parents did it. How my mother left me, how my father mistreated me, how they took something so small and so innocent and ruined it forever. I was a child, I didn’t know any better, they were the adults, they were the ones who were supposed to look after me, protect me, save me from all the monsters under my bed, not become them themselves. Now here I am, a parent myself, one who would raise hell to protect the little girl in my arms, and I have, repeatedly, and I did that when I was still a child myself. So why couldn’t they?

Elle and I were forced into these roles thanks to the atrocities of our families, and the broken bonds of our bloodlines, yet somehow we still made it work. Somehow our little girl smiles when she sees us, laughs when we have her in our arms, and falls asleep every night knowing we will always save her. We did that, not because of them, but in spite of them. And as her tiny, innocent arms curl around my neck, I know I would do every bad thing I have ever done again just to keep her safe.

“I can see that, Angel,” I reply, rubbing her small back and breathing in her scent that always calms me. “Are you making them just for you and mommy, or can daddy eat some too?” I ask, as the kitchen door swings open behind me, but my focus remains on her.

“I have something daddy can eat,” Logan interrupts from behind me, and my spine stiffens at the sound of his voice, as the calmness my daughter brought to me disappears entirely with just his presence.

“Logan,” Elle snaps, with not a serious enough bite to her tone for my liking, but what can I expect, he’s not exactly anenemy. No, he’s much worse than that, he’s family, the kind we don’t murder in cold blood, or so I’m told apparently.

“Morning sis,” he replies with that smooth flirty tone of his, not hearing the subtle, barely-there warning in her one word. “And how’s my favorite niece,” he adds, moving towards me, and leaning in to drop a kiss to Cassie’s head, bringing his husky scent with him. You’d think after six years I’d be used to him by now, that his need to always invade my space and flirt with me would be easy to put up with, but he always seems to get under my skin.

“I’m good, Uncle Lo,” she beams at him, always so genuinely excited to see her happy-go-lucky uncle, who gets a kick out of being so well liked by her.

I move away from him instantly, and deposit Cassie back onto the island beside Elle before pouring myself a coffee. “Here for another fun-filled weekend I see,” I say, turning and leaning against the counter and returning my stare to my daughter and her mother as they continue to make breakfast.

“Of course, you know how I love to be filled,” he replies, and my stare flicks to his and he winks, as Elle snaps his name again.

---