Page 5 of Swallow

A flicker of hope ignited within me as we ate in silence. The thought that I’d found a sanctuary—a place where the past couldn't reach me—had the future looking a little brighter.

But I wasn't foolish enough to forget that the past never stayed where it should.

4

EVIE

Over the next few days, Ash was attentive but also gave me space. I stayed in the room above the bar most of the time but ventured downstairs for meals and to just talk to him. It felt good being around others, and slowly, I felt that hard shell I’d built around myself starting to crack.

It was hard not to notice Ash’s protectiveness becoming increasingly clear. It wasn’t in a way that scared me, but more like he recognized the pain and fear I’d been enduring—what I tried to hide—and he wanted me to see andknowI was safe with him.

I’d learned a lot about Ash in my short time with him. I knew he was the type of man who needed to control everything around him, who ran his bar—his world—with an iron grip. But he was also kind. He gave free meals to hungry patrons who didn’t have enough money, and he listened intently as his customers told him stories, knowing they needed someone to just be there for a moment.

But then I started noticing the way he watchedme—not just out of habit or instinct, but because he was looking forsomething deeper. He was studying me, trying to figure out the cracks in my armor, the places where I’d been broken.

His eyes flashed with possessive concern.

More than anything, I’d always hated feeling like someone could see through me, and Ash definitely could.

Being with my ex taught me that I needed to perfect the art of disappearing in plain sight, of making myself small, quiet, and—hopefully—untouchable. And yet Ashsawme. All the time. He wouldn’t allow me to fade into the background.

I should have hated it, but instead, I liked it. I liked that he knew I was here and that he cared.

I focused on the present and stared at my empty plate. I’d just finished dinner, full and content and happy for the first time in years.

The bar was empty. The last of the regulars had filtered out into the night, leaving behind the low hum of the neon signs along the walls and the faint scent of whiskey lingering in the air.

I’d taken a table in the corner, keeping out of the way so Ash and his employees could work. But now that everything was quieter, I watched as Ash methodically wiped down the bar top, his movements steady, unhurried. He refused my help, but I got up, taking my dirty dishes as I walked to the kitchen, and cleaned them myself. Then I went back out, stepped behind the counter, and started drying the cups he just washed.

“You don’t have to?—”

“I want to,” I said, cutting him off and flashing him a small smile. “It’s the least I can do.”

He grunted as if he didn’t like the idea of me working but gave me an accepting nod. He had said little all night, but I’d caught his occasional glance in my direction, like he was making sure I was okay.

The silence stretched between us, but it was comfortable, and I was grateful for having his company.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but firm. “You gonna tell me what you’re running from?”

My stomach clenched, and my grip tightened around the glass in my hand. “Who says I’m running?” The lie was thick and sour on my tongue.

Ash let out a low exhale, tossing the rag over his shoulder as he leaned against the bar and looked at me. “Evie.” He didn’t go on, just stayed silent, until I eventually gave in and glanced at him. “I can look in your eyes and know that whatever brought you into my bar days ago carved something deep and dark into you.” His eyes locked onto mine. “I know it’s hard for you to trust. But I hope after these few days with me that you can see my intentions toward you are genuine and pure, and all I want is to make sure you’re safe.”

I looked away, his gaze burning into me as he seeked the truth. I stared at the countertop like it held all the answers I didn’t want to give, and then I sighed.

“Evie Harper,” I whispered, and I lifted my eyes to see he was smiling.

“You gave me your last name.” His smile grew, as if I’d just given him the best gift.

I didn’t respond, because the tone in his voice told me he was… happy.

Anger at myself and my situation rolled through me. “You know nothing about me.” I squeezed my eyes shut, because I’d known this moment was inevitable.

“I don’t need to be told anything toknowthat you’re hurting,” he countered softly. The words were simple. Direct. They hit harder than I wanted them to.

A sharp exhale escaped me, and I swallowed, my throat tight, my heart pounding in my chest. The anger that had been buried deep, that had simmered over the years and eaten away at mefrom the inside like a poison, suddenly bubbled over, hot and bitter.

I looked at Ash then, his expression unflinching, unwavering. Tears welled up, and I hated that I was suddenly so emotional that I couldn’t control myself. “You don’t get to look at me like that. Like you understand.”

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