by A. J. Logan
Looking up, I edge up, hauling myself higher. Hand and foot, in a synchronized rhythm, taking the exact path that my dad and I planned on our hike down the other side of this rock after our climb—our last climb.
My focus is solely on my hand and foot placement, tuning out Asher’s shouts. Smothering out the voices telling me that my dad is gone.
Mindlessly, I reach for the final hold before hauling myself to the top of the Chappell Canyon, standing alone as everything rushes back to me.
Dead.
A harsh grip seizes my arms, and I’m spun toward Asher as he yells, “What the fuck were you thinking?”
Stiff as the stone beneath my feet, I stare at him while he continues yelling, yanking me forward, his grip becoming hurtful as he shakes me. “You could’ve killed yourself pulling that stupid shit. Is that what you think your dad would want?”
“I hate you!” Rage explodes in my chest. I heave away from him, but he holds me against his body, so I pound my fists against his chest. “I hate you!”
“Good.” His command remains strong on my arms as I thrash against him until I feel nothing left inside. Just emptiness.
“He’s gone,” I sob, falling against the security of Asher’s chest.
“I know.” His voice is flat as his hands caress my back. “I know.”
We stand there as I sob, for how long, I don’t know. I’m unsure of the time that passes before I pull away from him. He lightly grasps my hands, leading me down the opposite side of the cliff as I numbly follow him down.
“How’d you know where to find me?” I ask, watching the ground as we continue to walk.
“I just knew,” he says, without turning to look at me. “Victoria called me. You need to call your mom or Nathan.”
“No.”
“Just because you don’t give a shit about them doesn’t mean they don’t care about you. Call them.” His voice is emotionless.
“It doesn’t matter,” I mumble under my breath.
Suddenly he stops, spinning around to draw me against him. “Stop it. Stop pushing them away when all they are trying to do is be there for you.”
“I never asked them to be there for me.” I yank free of his embrace, upset that he wants to guilt me into calling my mom. The only reason she is in my life is because my dad is dead … the same reason Asher is now a part of my life. “Or you. Just leave me alone.”
His fingers catch my arm as he twists me to face him, his hand clasping the back of my head, pulling me to stand nose to nose. “Stop it, Quinn.”
He’s pulling, it’s time to push. “You win.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You wanted me to hate you, to stay away from you. You win. I don’t care—”
His mouth crashes on mine, drowning out my words with his harsh kiss. His embrace is so tight it threatens to crush my ribs. He breaks the kiss, leaning back enough to speak as his lips brush against mine. “I care. I didn’t know how much until I watched your stupid ass scale up the side of a mountain as I followed, begging the universe to not let your grip fail.”
I swallow the lump in my throat at the thought of him falling. “You shouldn’t have followed me. That was your stupid-ass decision.”
“No, it wasn’t,” his mouth feathers across mine, kissing tenderly as my eyes close, “because I love you.”
Grasping his shoulders, I hold on as tight as I can. He kisses me patiently, lovingly, as my heart breaks all over again. “I love you too.”
50
There’s not a muscle in my body that doesn’t ache. The hot shower didn’t bring any relief to the throbbing. Neither did apologizing to Nathan and Candace.
I know climbing without safety was reckless. And Asher was right, my dad would never have been okay with it. But it still doesn’t ease the anguish that he isn’t coming back.
The walls of my room are closing in, so I head out the back door, slowly making my way to the garage. Stepping inside, I flip on the small lamp as my car comes into view. Something else to remind me that my dad isn’t coming back.
Grasping the metal handle, I pull the door as it scrapes open before I slide inside, the worn seat scratching against my legs as I pull the door securely shut behind me.
An envelope sitting under a set of keys—my keys—on the center of the seat, catches my attention. Picking up the envelope, I study my name written across the crisp paper before opening it. Pulling out a folded slip of paper, I flip it open as I read the words. It’s ready when you are.
Asher. When did he? How did he do this without me knowing?
Trembling fingers grip the metal keys as I examine them for a moment before inserting one into the ignition, twisting as the car roars to life for the first time in decades. Yanking the keys out of the ignition, the engine shuts off as I bail from the car.
Hurrying up the stairs, my bare feet slap against the cold marble as I make my way back to my room, slipping inside as I ignore a concerned glance from Candace when I pass her in the hallway.
Sliding under the comforter, I bury my head under a pillow as I clamp my eyes shut. The bed shifts beside me as a warmth embrace encloses around me, pulling me in. Tucking my head against his chest, I take a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent surrounding me as Asher’s hand strokes my back.
“I’m not ready.”
His lips brush against my head as he says, “I know.”
Silence engulfs us as I snuggle closer to Asher, wanting to embed myself in him, to feel only the comfort he provides and forget about everything else. But that’s not possible as my emotions are threatening to take over again. They’re overwhelming every part of me because I’m not ready … for any of what is to come.
51
“I’ll be right back.” Asher kisses me before sliding out of his bed, leaving me alone in his room.
His bed feels empty without him, so I slide out, tiptoeing to the window. I look over the yard, a picture of serenity while I feel nothing but chaos inside. The news about my dad from yesterday still hasn’t sunk in.
Candace tried to talk to me again, but I just don’t want to confront it yet. I want to live in a bubble where my dad still exists, not where he is gone.
So, I ran. Hiding again when I ended up in Asher’s room, slipping into his bed because I knew he would just let me be, just as he had the night before when he’d snuck into my room to be with me so I wasn’t alone. He didn’t ask anything of me in return.
Candace wants me to say goodbye to my dad. I’m not ready today and doubt I will ever be ready.
Distracting myself, I walk around Asher’s room, moving to his desk where I take a seat in the cold metal chair, anxiously waiting for him to get back. I feel odd in his room without him.
Standing from the desk, a familiar symbol catches my attention. Reaching down, my trembling fingers smooth over the ruby engulfed in gold flames.
Clasping the papers, I bring them closer to read, it’s a letter addressed to Golden Olympus on the letterhead from the same company my dad was working with, Ruby Flame Marketing. Except this time, Victor’s information is under the company name and it’s his signature at bottom of the page.
It’s Victor’s company. Ruby Flame Marketing is Victor Hastings’s company.
Dropping the papers on the desk, I’m searching through the desk’s drawers before I realize what I’m doing, but I don’t find anything.
This means something.
How could my dad have been working for Victor?
I rummage through everything I can find, looking under the bed, behind the nightstand after searching through the drawers.
Holding my breath, I slip into the closet as I continue searching. There’s something here and I’m not risking losing my chance to find out what’s going on. To find out what happened to my dad.
I push clothes out of the way, looking to the floor when red metal catches my attention.
The key.
The metal is the same exact color as t
he key Asher left in the red box on my bed the night of my birthday. Why would he leave the key for a safe in his closet for me?
Rushing across the room, I grab my keys out of my bag, shaking as I flip through the keys in search of the red metallic key. I’d felt silly keeping the key, but it had become a reminder to stay away from him before it became a reminder that something deeper was happening between us. Now I know it’s something far graver than I ever could’ve imagined.
Inserting the key, I slowly turn as the lock unlatches with a click before I pull the door open. Inspecting the safe, I notice a stack of papers. I hesitantly reach in, plucking them out to study. The top page is a receipt. From what I can make out, it’s for a wire transfer for four million dollars to a bank account. The next page is the same contract Detective Davis showed me at the school.
I flip through the pages, but the words jumble as my mind swims. I reach into the safe, pulling out a stack of photos. The same type that Asher develops in the darkroom at school, except the top photo isn’t one of the campus or a scenic landscape. It’s a picture of my dad and Candace.
Hastily, I flip through the pictures, many of them are my parents. To my knowledge, they hadn’t spoken since she’d left, so how and when were these photos taken?
Freezing, I can’t remove my eyes from the picture of my dad … and me. The memories of the day flash back to me. We’d gone climbing, then stopped to get lunch, but my dad wasn’t feeling well. Spending more time in the bathroom before he rushed out, saying we’d take our food to go.
“Quinn.”
The sound of Asher’s voice startles me as I jump to my feet, clutching the photo to my chest. I move away, my back slamming against the wall.
His hand grips his neck as he looks to the contents of the safe strewn across the floor at my feet before he steps forward.
“Stay away from me!” Screaming, I push hard against the wall as he abruptly stops, eyeing me as I tremble.
I don’t know what to think as I search his rigid stance.
That’s how he knew about me, about my dad. All the things he’s said run through my mind, especially “I know” and “Your dad is not coming back.”
He knew my dad was dead.
“Did you kill my dad?”
His expression is strained as he remains motionless, his jaw muscle tightening as an unnerving silence fills the room.
I don’t know him as well as I’d thought, but I do know that movement. He is holding something in that he doesn’t want to say.
Gasping, my hands clasps over my mouth, suppressing the painful cry before it comes from my mouth.
Moving towards me, he reaches out. I press against the wall, cowering, as my screams fill the room, causing him to halt.
“Please, Quinn, just let me explain.”
“Explain what?” The word squeaks out of my mouth. How can any of this be explained?
He backs up, his hands in front of him as he speaks. “You have to listen to me, please. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. When I gave you that key, I was just hiding it, keeping it safe.”
I hear his words, but I don’t know what to make of them. Why would the key be safe with me when it holds answers to everything I’d been asking about my dad? Answers he refused to give me. Answers that are about to change everything.
I push past him. Running as fast as I can. Tears blur my vision, but I pray that I can get away before he stops me.
Things will never be the same.
Never.
I pull to an abrupt stop in the café parking lot. Unsure of where to go or who to trust, Detective Davis is the only one I want to talk to. Obsessively, I’ve dialed his number, but it goes straight to voice mail.
There’s a reason he’d given me that handwritten number and didn’t have me call the station, so I haven’t tried him there. I don’t want to talk with Detective Taylor or anyone else before I talk to Davis.
Hurrying out of the car, I stumble through the gravel before hastily pushing through the doors. Scanning the café, I don’t see Davis, so I look around for Lindsey, but she is nowhere in sight.
The hostess comes up to me, a bright smile as I look to her in a panic.
“Where’s Lindsey?”
“She’s off tonight.”
“No!” I scream as the hostess steps back “It’s important. I really need to talk to her.”
“I’m sorry, but she’s not going to be in for a few days. She’s had a family emergency.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. “What kind of emergency?”
“Who did you say you were, dear?”
I hadn’t, but I need to talk to Davis, and Lindsey is my only hope right now. “I’m her sister. She hasn’t been answering her phone.”
“She’s been really out of it, but let me try her cell.”
“What happened?”
“You don’t know?” The woman’s face pales as she hesitates to continue. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but her husband was in an accident.”
“An accident?” The words are a whisper as they leave my mouth. Davis was in an accident.
Your dad was in an accident.
The hostess stands in front of me. I see her lips moving, but I hear no sound coming from them. This can’t be happening. Not again. Davis was my only hope. The only person I could trust, and now he’s gone too.
“I need to see Davis. I need to talk to Davis.” I repeat over and over as the room seems to close in, my hands pressing against my temples, trying to block out the words.
Your dad was in an accident.
It wasn’t an accident.
None of it was.
TO BE CONTINUED …
CRUEL TITAN, the conclusion of Asher and Quinn’s duet, is coming October 2020!
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About the Author
A.J. Logan spends her days with her head in the clouds and her nights with her nose in a book. She’s a hopeless romantic at heart with a weak spot for dark, gritty antiheroes and the fierce, feisty women who bring them to their knees (sometimes literally).
www.ajloganbooks.com
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