Page 44 of Asher

Me –You too. Don’t fry anyone’s hair.

Asher being Asher, he didn’t buy the stuff.

No, what he did do was run by my work and drop off two crisp one-hundred-dollar bills.

And when I tried to refuse the cash and ask him if he had a fifty, he lifted a brow while saying, “You shouldn’t be paying for shit to feed the brothers.”

That was also how a couple of the women I worked with developed crushes on him.

Asher on his bike, the sun just right... I wanted a picture of that.

Jesus, but I was such a sucker for this man.

Perhaps it was time for me to find someone else and try to forget about my stupid, unrequited crush on him.

Stella. Stella. Stella.

I repeated her name over and over in my head.

But... the thought of even being in the same vicinity as someone else who wasn’t Asher made my heart physically ache.

What the heck was I going to do?

How in the world did someone uncreate feelings for another person when they had secretly loved that person before they knew what the wordloveactually meant?

Chapter 10

Asher – Present – Age 42

Today had been one thing after another.

We were trying to develop a new route to deliver guns, and one thing after another was wrong with every single route.

I knew that I was growing more grey hairs atop my head and in my beard.

Something had to fucking give.

That was why I slammed my fist down on the table we had in church, locked my eyes on Irish, and said, “Figure this fucking shit out. Pick a goddamned route already. Enough is e-fucking-nough.”

He nodded, “Got it, Pres. Sorry. Maisie has been having these weird dreams about that bitch abandoning her again.”

I nodded, “I got it.” I said, then swept my hand through my hair and said, “You need anything? Just gotta let me know, yeah?”

He jerked his chin.

Looking at the brothers, I said, “Alright, enough fucking heavy shit. Let’s go eat and get drunk.”

Trigger laughed, “And get laid.”

Once I banged the gavel on the table, we all stood up and walked out of the room.

The smells of great food wafted from the kitchen.

Tagging my phone, I pulled it out, knowing it had vibrated a few times.

One of them was from a woman I had a friends-with-benefits thing going on for a bit when Stella was younger.

Word got around that she got married and then divorced again.

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