Page 40 of Revenge

Indecision wars inside of me. I’m torn between being my stubborn self and satisfying my curiosity. In the end, the latter wins out. I grab the clothes he’s offered and stomp into the bathroom to change. Going quietly is against my nature and I don’t want him to think it’ll be that easy to win me over.

A smile spreads over my face when I see that this time, instead of another one of his t-shirts, I’m given a brand new pair of black yoga pants, along with a dark green tank top. I’ll take the fact that there’s a matching bra and thong set in the same dark green color as another one of his peace offerings. Still no shoes or socks, but it’s a start. I should be shocked they’re in my sizes, but it’s Asher. The man studies every single detail to the letter.

Once I’m dressed and look in the mirror, I feel like a bit of the dark cloud that was hovering around me earlier has been lifted. It’s amazing what a new set of clothes can do for one’s mood. I leave the t-shirt in a heap on the bathroom floor and walk back out toward the bed.

The mattress dips from my weight, but Asher doesn’t move. It’s like he’s lost in his head. My hands rest in my lap as I toy with my fingers and fight to keep still. I know he’ll tell me when he’s ready. I just hope I am.

He clears his throat a couple of times, like speaking to me is painful, and it only digs the knife in deeper. Then he does something that surprises me. He talks. “Six years ago, I lost everything.”

“What do you mean you lost everything?” The pain I see in his eyes has my heart aching for him.

“Her name was Lauren.” His hands clasp together between his legs as he leans against his thighs. “I got home from work one night and found a couple of…intrudersinside. They shot and killed her. She was…she was eight months pregnant.”

I put my hand over my mouth to fight back the bile of vomit creeping its way up my throat. Then my eyes glance down to his green t-shirt as if I can see what’s hidden underneath. “The lily tattoo on your shoulder.” I knew it meant something to him.

“Her favorite flower.”

“And the fallen leaves?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“For Lauren and our baby—the two lives that were stolen from me that night.”

“Oh, Asher.” Just when my heart couldn’t break anymore for him, he tells me more.

“They found me covered in her blood and thought I did it. I was convicted of the voluntary manslaughter of Lauren and our unborn child. They gave me seven years. Seven years for killing my wife and son.” He shakes his head in disgust. Before I realize what I’m doing my hand is on his thigh, squeezing for support, and encouraging him without words to tell me more. He’s so lost in the memories that he doesn’t even notice my touch. “Because I was a cop and had no other records, I was out in six.”

“I’m so sorry, Asher, for all of it.” An inkling in the back of my mind has me putting the pieces together, but I need to hear him say it. “Did you ever find the men responsible?”

The muscles in his throat contract as he takes in my watery eyes, but what he doesn’t do is answer my question. Instead, his eyes glance down to the hand that’s squeezing his thigh as if my touch burns him, and his eyes narrow. Feeling foolish, I move to pull my hand back but he stops me. His fingers lace through mine as he stares down at our joined hands. He sighs and leans in until his forehead is pressing against mine. We sit connected like this, enjoying the silence. Neither one of us makes a move to take it any further. In that moment it’s just he and I. All the other bullshit fades away until the sound of his brother’s voice shouting from downstairs breaks it.

“Yo, I’m starving! Y’all coming down here or what?”

“Give us a minute, Ax!” Asher shouts back and then asks me, “You hungry, Princess?”

Right on cue, my stomach growls loud enough for him to hear. I want to die of embarrassment.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Asher’s hand squeezes mine one more time before he’s pulling me to my feet and leading me out the door to an unexpected fate.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Asher

Charlee never lets go of my hand as I lead her down stairs, and I do my best to keep my eyes off of her tits. That outfit may have been a mistake and I’m going to kick Axel’s ass for telling me to buy it. The soft material hugs all of her curves, drawing attention to her phenomenal body; a body my tongue had licked and fucked every inch of. Traces of her sweetness still linger in my mouth and I have to think about something else before I walk into the room, my dick trying to jump out of my pants.

All conversation dies as we enter the dining room and rain continues to ping against the roof. My brothers take us in, stopping on our joined hands. Zane meets my gaze and winks, but doesn’t say anything, which is good because he’d get another ass beating if he did.

Charlee hangs back a step, shuffling from side to side. She’s no doubt nervous and assessing Axel’s mood today, which is unnecessary. He has one of the shortest fucking attention spans I’ve ever seen and was over what happened the second she found out about Diego last night.

Her hand squeezes mine and I hear the slight intake of breath as she gets a look at the bruises on Zane’s face that I’m sure match my own. My fingers curl deeper into hers, reassuring her without words that he’s fine and that’s not me being a cold-hearted prick. He really is.

As brothers, we fight and we forgive. It’s what we do.

Speaking of the bastards, both of them are cocking their eyebrows, watching us and our joined hands. Bits of our earlier conversation roll around in the back of my mind, but I do my best to forget about it. It doesn’t stop me from hearing them gloat from here.

Axel kicks out a chair with his foot and lifts his chin to Charlee. “Y’all gonna sit down or stand there and stare all day?”

Charlee spares him a glance but her feet stay firmly planted on the floor, so I make the decision for her. I tug on her hand, pulling her forward, and plop her tight ass in the chair. I loosen my grip to take the empty one next to her and immediately feel the loss of her warmth.

“You doing okay, Charlee?” Zane asks. I sit up tighter in my chair as he does. It’s the first time he’s really initiated any type of contact with her and I’m wondering if the talk in our basement was as much about me as it was about him.

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