Asher (22 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Asher

New Year’s Day is a quiet affair. After the mind-blowing sex, I manage to take a shower and dress on my own. The dizziness is driving me nuts, but it’s slowly easing. I’m still plagued by headaches, though, and even if the doctor says it’s normal and he expects them to fade in a few days, it’s damn annoying.

At midday, Zane swings by in the company of Rafe and Dylan, bringing food. Tessa comes by as well, and Audrey’s spunky friend, Dakota, and we all settle down around Audrey’s small dining table to eat Chinese take-out.

Everyone keeps shooting me covert glances, as if expecting me to faceplant my plate of Chow Mein.

What’s even more vexing, it might happen. My eyes keep closing. Taking my painkillers before lunch was a huge mistake. They do wonders for the headache and the pain in my back and ribs, but they hit like a kick to the head.

Audrey who’s sitting right next to me seems to realize my predicament. Without saying a word, she pushes her chair back and helps me to my feet. Like a damn child. It pisses me off that I’m still so weak but I prefer crashing on a bed out of sight than on top of the food-laden table with everyone’s concerned eyes on me.

Zane comes around the table to help, as if I’m an invalid, dammit. But I can’t complain as my head becomes heavier and my legs weaker. Damn, those painkillers are strong. I decide then and there I’ll ditch them and find something lighter.

I wake up much later, a cry strangled in my throat. Damn nightmares. I was running again in the streets, a sense of danger in my bones. Audrey. Audrey was in danger.

But she isn’t here. I lie alone on her double bed, on top of her purple comforter, my mouth dry and my head pounding. Someone has thrown a yellow blanket on top of me.

It takes me a moment to remember I’m not suffering from a hangover but from a beating and knock-out painkillers.

A noise makes me turn and I find Zane leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded over his chest.

What the hell?
Is he there to chew me out over something? I really can’t remember doing anything but my mind’s still fuzzy.

“What?” I grumble, pushing myself to a sitting position, wincing as aches flare just about everywhere, from my head to my sock-clad feet. “What do you want?”

“You were out, fucker, for like four hours. I stayed to make sure you woke up again.”

“It’s the damn painkillers.”

“It’s more than that and you know it. You’ve pushed yourself too damn hard. Take it easy, okay?”

“Back off, Z-man.” I throw the yellow blanket off me and swing my legs off the bed, hunching over. “I don’t need to take it easy.”

“You.” In two strides he’s in front of me and in my face. “If your medication is not good we’ll see about changing it. But you will rest and take your time because I’m not losing another brother, fucker.” He jabs a finger at me. “You hear me?”

Fear is stark in his eyes and I can only nod meekly. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Where’s Audrey?”

“She went out with the others to get some ice-cream.”

“And you stayed behind to babysit me, huh?”

“Damn right. Nothing wrong with that.”

It still irks me, but I understand why. “I’m fine. Go have ice-cream or whatever it is you wanna do. I’ll be okay on my own.”

He hesitates. “You sure?”

Huh.
For Zane to even consider my proposal, it means he’s dying to go. “Yeah, man.” An idea hits me. “That Dakota chick... You dig her, right?”

Zane shuffles his feet and his mouth tightens. “None of your business.”

“Seriously, man? I bet you’re dying to see her licking ice-cream off the cone, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you, Ash.”

I grin because I know I have him. “Go. I said I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Motherfucker.” Zane gives me the finger and turns to go, but not before I see the flash of relief in his eyes—because I seem better or because he’ll go see Dakota do obscene things to her ice-cream cone, I’m not sure.

Knowing Zane, probably both.

I hear the door click behind him and I frown. The sense of danger from the nightmare lingers. What am I missing?

Then it hits me, knocking the air from my lungs. Not just a dream. The fight club. Will they come for me again once they realize I’m still alive? Will they come for Audrey? I’ve put her life in jeopardy.

What can I do? I fist my hands in my short hair and groan. Going to the police about my attackers can only make things worse. They’re mafia. They’ll know, and any chance of making it out of this mess alive will be over.

No, that would mean putting Audrey into even more danger. Audrey and Zane and everyone who cares about me.

Okay, Ash, think.

I have to talk to Johnny, ask what he wants to leave my friends alone, go down on my knees if needed. In my mind, it’s the least I can do in return for all they’ve done for me.

***

New Year’s Day. A brand new year, a brand new start.

It all sounds sarcastic in my head, so I try to focus on the street I’m crossing. I felt as close to okay as possible when I left Audrey’s apartment, but now I feel as if I’ve run a marathon. Sweat drips from my face, despite the cold, and I have to stop and rest, braced on a building wall. My head spins.

No matter. I have to do this. It’s too important a task to fail because I feel like roadkill.

Today’s the fight tournament in The Bulldog. I count on that to find Johnny. Getting a chance to talk to him without a repeat of last time—that is, without him sending his goons to kill me—will be tricky, and my aching head isn’t exactly a fountain of original ideas.

By the time I approach the club, I’ve decided what to do. I lurk outside a cafe nearby, pretending to check messages on my cell, leaning on a gnarled tree trunk. God, it’s cold.

Minutes pass. I keep an eye out for anyone approaching the club and clench my jaw to keep my teeth from rattling.

Then I see one of the fighters I met a few days ago—has it been only a few days?—and I step into the street to intercept him.

“Massimo.” I wait until a faint light of recognition flashes in his gaze. “Can you give a message to Johnny for me? It’s urgent.”

“Why don’t
you
give it?”

Yeah, about that...
“I had a run in with Carl. He’d better not know I’m here.”

He chews on that; seems to find it reasonable. “Okay. What is it?”

“Tell Johnny I’ll be waiting here. I haven’t come to fight; just to talk.”

He nods and goes into the club, leaving me with sweaty palms and a heart going into overdrive. Nothing can stop Johnny from sending Carl and his men against me once more, and I’m not in a shape to fight back this time.

The minutes stretch. Shit, this is a crappy idea. I shouldn’t have come, not so soon after getting beaten up. I should have waited until Johnny’s anger fades. I should have—

The heavy metal door of the club opens and Johnny comes out. He climbs up the steps to the street, glances around and spots me.

He’s alone. That seems as good a sign as any.

I push off the building wall and wait for him to join me in the shadows.

“What’s up, kid?” He actually grins at me, and that throws me off. Then he takes a better look, squinting from under bushy brows, and his smile falls. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Are you kidding me?” I realize my hands are clenching into fists and force them open. “Carl and your men happened to me. Sliced me open. Said I set the cops on you when they came looking for me.”

He whistles. “That wasn’t a smart move, kid. I swear I didn’t know about this, but always keep the cops out of here.”

“The cops came looking because Dad was found dead and I was AWOL. Someone saw me enter the club and reported it.”

“Damn, Ash. Told you to leave the club. That kind of life ain’t for you. You’re a good kid. Could be a great fighter, fighting legally. Jake, bless his soul, trained you well.”

Yeah, Johnny has said that before. I scratch the back of my head. “So I guess you’re not out to kill me, then?”

“Kill you?” He sighs. “I wanted to help you. You’re Jake’s boy, and no matter his faults, he was my friend. Look, I’ll make sure Carl doesn’t come after you again.”

I nod. “Thanks.”

“Ash... If you ever want to get into professional fighting, let me know. I’ve got connections. Think about it.”

I want to think about it, but my head’s spinning. Besides, I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back to fighting again. The doctor wasn’t too pleased when he found out I suffered quite a few concussions in the past years. Said it could cause permanent brain damage and that I should avoid violent sports.

Like fighting.

I nevertheless thank Johnny and turn to go.

Options. For the first time, I have options. I’m free to select my own path.

I only hope Audrey will walk it with me.

***

I make it back to the apartment before Audrey and huddle on the couch, trying to warm myself up. My little outing has both shaken and exhausted me. I was so stressed out about talking to Johnny, my hands are still trembling, and walking there and back in the wet cold has leeched out the last of my energy.

Plus, Audrey’s smell’s all over the place—sweet and fruity. I swear it permeates the cushions of the couch. It makes me feel comfortable. Way too comfortable.

My head drops back. My lids feel so heavy, which is ridiculous. I’ve slept most of the day away already, but I can’t keep my eyes open. My body sinks into the sofa and I fall into snatches of dreams—dark corridors, broken windows, and a voice repeating,
‘It’s over, it’s all over’
and I can’t decide if it’s a good or a bad thing.

And then I hear a woman’s voice call my name.

“Asher? Asher Devlin?”

Audrey? No, that’s not her voice. I roll my head and wince at the throb in my temples. I crack one eye open but that cranks my headache up a notch, so I open both and take a look.

Shock jerks me forward in the seat. “Mrs. Morrison.” Audrey’s mom. What is she doing there?

Oh shit. Of course.
I’m in her apartment. She has to be asking herself what
I
am doing here.

“Mrs. Morrison...” I swallow. My throat is so dry it clicks.

“Is Audrey here?” She leans to the side to look into the bedroom.

“No. I... I don’t think she’s here right now.”

Fuck.
Funny how I don’t sweat so much when I face seasoned fighters in the cage, but Audrey’s mom... Well, let’s just say I want her to accept me. I don’t want Audrey to clash with her mom because of me.

“Mrs. Morrison, I know you don’t want me here.” She’s looking at me, with those green eyes, so much like her daughter’s. I forge on. “And I respect that. Audrey said I could stay for a while, get back on my feet. But this is your place, and I’ll go if you want me to.” I suck in a deep breath. “Please don’t blame her. I know my dad destroyed your lives and that I’m not who you wish your daughter to be with. But I’ll work hard and finish school and...” And what? I rub my eyes. They burn. “I’d never hurt her. The thing is, I love your daughter.”

Audrey’s mom is staring at me, her gaze so intense I have to look away.
Shit.
That probably isn’t what she wants to hear. But I’m not backing off this time. I’m done running away. If there’s one thing I’d still fight for, that’s Audrey.

Her mom isn’t saying anything, and that makes me nervous. Okay, more nervous. This is my girl’s mom, for chrissakes. I don’t care if she hates me as long as she doesn’t force her daughter to choose between us. Audrey loves her mom. I’m not sure about many things, but I’m positive Audrey won’t give up on her mom to be with me.

She shouldn’t have to be asked to make that choice.

“Asher,” she says and reluctantly I turn back toward her. “Audrey doesn’t know I’m here. And I’m not staying. I was on my way to visiting friends in Milwaukee where I have a business meeting in a few days’ time.”

Why is she telling me this? My pulse is racing so fast I think I might have a heart attack.

“Do you know what I do in my spare time?”

I can only shake my head, more confused than ever. Is that her way of telling me she isn’t going to let me be near her daughter, not now, nor ever?

“I recently got involved with the National Runaway Switchboard, at the headquarters, in Chicago. Our mission is to keep runaway and at risk young people off the streets and offer them help.”

I open my mouth and close it. “What are you saying?”

“There are programs to help you finish school and find a job. I can get you in touch with the right people.” She folds her hands in her lap. “See, I called Audrey but couldn’t find her, to tell her I was coming over, so I called Tessa, her friend. And Tessa told me what happened. And I want to help.”

I swallow but the knot forming in my throat isn’t going down. “You want to help me.”