by A. J. Logan
Once in the room, I see Asher and his dad in a full-on brawl while Victoria and her mom stand by, helpless to rein in the disastrous scene. Charging forward, I wrap my arms around Asher, telling him to calm down as I haul him away from Victor. Asher tenses up, fighting more against my restraint than freedom to get to his dad. Confining Asher is worse than anything thanks to Victor Hastings. Shoving Asher back, I release the hold I have on him, moving between the father and son set on beating each other to a pulp.
“Let’s go,” I shout at Asher, ramming him further back and away from Victor. I reach over and grab Victoria’s arm as we pass, dragging her to the garage along with Asher. She doesn’t fight against me, thankfully, because it’s all I can manage to coax her raging brother out of the house.
Slamming my fist into the button on the wall, the garage opens as I release Victoria, instructing her to get in my car. We need to get out of here. Nothing good is going to come from either of them being around Victor when he’s like this.
“No,” Victoria shouts, shutting the door as she shoves me away, heading to her car. Now she decides to resist. Great. My attempt to stop her isn’t going well as I yell to Asher, “You too. Let’s go.”
I struggle to get ahold of Victoria as Asher drops into his car and speeds away.
“Will you just stop fighting against me?” I yell to Victoria as she squirms out of my grip.
Instead of heading to her car, she yells incoherently at me as she moves back towards the house. The house where Victor is more than likely still livid. There’s no way I’m letting Victoria go back in there.
That’s it. Bear-hugging her, I walk back to my car, open the passenger door, and sit her in the seat. “Five minutes. Just leave this dreadful house for five minutes and let your dad calm down.”
“My mom,” she says breathlessly.
“She ran off as soon as Asher and Victor stopped fighting.” Monica has dealt with Victor long enough to know to hide away until the initial threat ceases.
I slam the car door closed and she remains still even though I wait for her to dart away at any moment. Just five minutes. That’s all I want with her. Just the two of us without all the other toxic BS.
Dropping into the driver’s seat, I speed off as she stays silent. It’s a relief at first but as the minutes tick by, the silence between us becomes more and more unnerving.
“Talk to me,” I whisper.
She looks out the passenger window, her face turned away from me as she says, “Just because I left the house with you, doesn’t mean anything between us has changed. I still hate you.”
My jaw clenches as I try my best to keep my mouth shut. The fact that she’s here means everything to me—she means everything to me. I said five minutes, but that will never be enough. I need more. More of her. More time. And a shitload more chances. I’ll need each and every one, because no matter how hard I try not to fuck up, I will.
I veer off the road, steering into the nearest parking lot I come to. Slamming on the brakes, the NSX skids to a jerky stop. “No, you don’t.”
Slowly, her eyes meet mine as she turns to look at me, her tear-stained cheeks causing me to lift my hand, attempting to touch her, but she jerks away. “Yes, I do. I hate you. Now take me back home.”
Home. She’s my home, and I want to be that for her. But how, without pushing her further out of my grasp? One thing is damn certain. I won’t bring her back until her dad simmers down. “No. I’m not taking you back to that house with Victor on the warpath.”
“I’m much better off there with him than anywhere with you, you malicious, heartless monster.”
“Are you really comparing me to him? The man who beats his kid fucking senseless for jollies?” I know she hasn’t been clued in on all of Victor’s wrath, but she has to have the slightest notion of the man he is—a horrendous one.
“He might not be the best father, but Asher goes out of his way to piss him off at every turn.”
“Are you fucking serious right now? ‘Not the best father’? How many times does a man have to lock his child in a dark fucking closet in order to earn the title of worst father? That prick shouldn’t be allowed to fucking breathe.”
She looks to me with confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“There’s no way you’re that clueless.” Or is she? Had she been shielded from it that well, or did she just not want to see it?
Her face pales as she stares at me, looking sick to her stomach. Asher’s always said Victoria hasn’t witnessed the true evil of Victor, but does she not even know about any of the abuse Asher suffered at her father’s hand? How is that possible? There’s a sense of relief in me that she hasn’t been burdened with the vile truth of his despicable evilness. But then, it could be a bad thing, too, because she doesn’t know how much she should truly fear him.
“What did you think happened to Asher all those times as a child? Where did you think all the bruises and broken bones came from?”
“You’re lying,” she whispers. But it’s evident by her pained expression that she’s putting the pieces together. “He lost his temper. They’ve gotten into fistfights, but that’s it.”
Breaking away from her pained expression, I mumble, “You should talk to Asher about it.”
“No. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Ask Asher why he’s claustrophobic, why confinement sends him over the edge. Ask Nathan why he threatened to put a bullet through his best friend’s head. Open your fucking eyes and see that your father is a sadistic bastard who thrives on control and fear.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth, but it hurt that she compared me to him. There may be something inside me that is fucked up, but I would never do the vile things Victor has done to his own child. And the scary part is I probably don’t know the half of it.
“You’re the monster, not him.”
Denial. She is in complete denial, and I don’t blame her in the least. “Just talk to your brother about it.” I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with. Classic move on my part. Instead of taking the few minutes she’s allowed me to be near her, I make everything worse, not better. “I’m sorry.”
“I doubt that.” She throws the door open, stepping out of the car.
Here we go. Swiftly, I bail from the driver’s door, yelling, “Get back in the car.”
She continues walking as I tell her to stop but she doesn’t, not even one moment of hesitation, she just walks away. I can’t lose her again. I can’t let her walk down the side of the road in the middle of wherever the hell we are.
I’m on her heels, her back to me as I halt, watching her get further away by the second. “I love you.”
Ceasing, she slowly rotates, looking to me as I cautiously step closer to her. She already had the full power to crush me, and I just said the words that will allow her to obliterate me. Writing it and saying it are two very different things, but I needed to do something to get her to not walk away, get her to stay.
Reaching forward, I thread my fingers into her hair, moving in front of her. My lips against hers as I whisper, “I love you, Victoria.”
She pulls away and my hand falls to my side. That’s the moment I realize. It doesn’t matter what I say. I’ve already lost her. She might be standing in front of me, but she’s still not with me.
“No, you don’t. And I can’t love you. This isn’t it. This is toxic obsession. A fixation. I’m a challenge, something you aren’t supposed to want so it makes you desire it more.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” My irritation spills out in my tone. I can’t fathom that she thinks she can’t love me, that she’s nothing more than a challenge.
“What I do know is your mood swings remind me so much of my father it scares me. If he is capable of the things you said, how am I supposed to believe you won’t end up the same? My parents hate each other. They despise each other. That’s not what I want and not what I need.”
“I need you.” The desperation
seeps out in another attempt to hold on to what I have left of her.
“We tried. Every time ends the same.” She turns, walking away as I remain in place.
Not this time. But I bite the words back. If I keep pushing, she’ll retreat further, literally and figuratively.
“I’ll take you home. Just get in the car.” Walking on the side of the road has to be a worse option than returning back to her house. I think. Surely Victor has simmered down some, and I’ll make sure he has before I leave her there.
She doesn’t acknowledge me, so I jog to catch up with her, cussing under my breath.
“You can leave. I have my phone. I’ll get a ride.”
“Nah,” I say casually, falling into step beside her. “If you’re walking, I’m walking.”
“Fine. Just take me home.” She pivots, heading back towards my car. “You really are a pain in the ass.”
“Agreed.” I wasn’t so sure she would give in, but I’m thankful she did. Now, I just need to come up with a plan to get her to forgive me. Again. It won’t be easy because even when I have a plan, it’s usually not the best way to go about things. On our short walk back, I contemplate the one thing that might break through that stubborn shell of hers, and it’s way past due.
20
Victoria
No. It can’t be true. But the more I shuffle through memories, the more it’s all adding up. The bruises, the black eyes, the broken bones … it wasn’t football, falling out of a tree, or whatever excuse Asher or my mom gave me. It was my dad. I still can’t wrap my head around it, can’t fully comprehend it. Even being a young child, how had I not known? How had I not seen what was happening in front of my face?
Messaging Asher, I wait less than a minute before calling him, thankful when he answers.
“Where are you?”
“Almost there. Why?”
“I just wanted to ask you something.”
We end the call as I make my way into the garage, waiting as he pulls to a smooth stop in his usual parking spot. Standing with my arms folded across my chest, I impatiently linger as he exits his car and walks to me.
“What made you claustrophobic?”
His face tightens and he stands motionless, silently answering my question.
“It’s true. Dad did all those things, and that’s why he and Nathan didn’t speak for years.”
I pace around in a tight circle as Asher stands unmoving. He should be the anxious one, not me. I’m sick about all the times I blamed him for egging Dad on, saying it was Asher’s fault for challenging him. There was a grave reason behind all of it. All the hostility Asher has towards our father, all the tension between Nathan and my father.
“I want to know all of it. Tell me what he did to you.”
“Seems like you know the basics.”
But that’s not what it feels like. There’s an ominous feeling inside me that says Elliot just scratched the surface of the pain Asher has endured. “I’m sorry for defending him.”
“It’s fine.”
“No. It’s not. But what I don’t understand is why you hid it from me. Why does Mom hide it from me too?”
“I can’t speak for her, but I didn’t want you to cry. I was worried he would do the same to you if he saw you crying for me.”
A cold chill runs down my spine at the ruthless insinuation. “Why did he only hurt you? I don’t get it.”
Asher’s jaw clenches as he looks to the floor, speaking in a flat tone. “Because he couldn’t control me. He’s always had control of you.”
He’s right. I never challenge our dad, but Asher has at every turn, for as long as I can recall. Stepping to Asher, I do something I haven’t done in forever. I wrap my arms around my brother, pulling him into a secure hug.
He tenses but returns the gesture. “Stop being nice to me. It’s freaking me out.”
“Shut up,” I say, stepping away from him.
Asher glances towards the door leading into the house before turning a serious expression on me. “I just need you to do me one favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Pretend like everything is normal. Don’t let Dad know that anything’s up.”
Pretend. I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing lately, the biggest of which is pretending Olivia hadn’t confessed that her husband tried to murder her. “What’s going on?”
“Just trust me when I say that the less you know, the better off you are. Don’t confront him. Don’t challenge him. Just stay away from him.”
The bruises on his face are a clear indicator that challenging my dad isn’t a good idea. “Okay.”
He lets out a relieved sigh as we walk back into the house, and I breathe my own sigh of relief when I make it to my room without seeing my dad. Walking over to my bed, I slip under the comforter, pulling it up to my chin. Fatigue catches up to me and I drift off to sleep.
21
Elliot
“So, how’d it go?” I ask Asher, hopping up onto the island as he gives me an exasperated look.
“What?”
“What do you mean ‘what?’ Quinn. The apology. The groveling. Anything ring a bell?” The same things I’ve been doing and will continue to do until Victoria forgives me. Again.
“Yeah. Don’t hold your breath.”
Ouch. The deflated appearance isn’t one Asher wears often or well.
“If I do, will you try again?” I joke, hoping that instead of truly defeated he’s just sitting out the round. I know how deflating that can make you feel.
“Why do you care so much?”
“Because I was tasked with getting her to attend the Halloween party this weekend. If she’s pissed at you, there’s no way she’ll show.” And that was one of my many plans to soften Victoria’s current hostility towards me. I’m slowly wearing her down, but not quickly enough for my liking.
“She’s not gonna show.”
“It’s only Tuesday, so maybe she’ll change her mind by the weekend. I’ll try talking to her again too.”
“Not likely,” Asher mumbles, walking to the door as he says over his shoulder, “I’m heading out. I have some things to get prepared for this weekend.”
Damn. On to plan F. Or is it plan G now? I’ve lost track because nothing’s working. Nothing has made Victoria give me more than an annoyed glance or irritated ass chewing, and I don’t have much ass left for that. My words mean nothing to her at this point. That’s it. My words mean nothing. My actions might. Looking to where my best friend just left the room, I decide one way or another, I will tell him. Because she’s either going to be mine if I stop being a coward, or I’ll be free to pursue her without having to hide it from Asher. If he doesn’t strangle me, or worse, hate me.
Victoria is around here somewhere because her car is in its usual spot in the garage. My first guess as to her location proves correct when I walk into the pool area and hear splashing before I spot her gliding through the water. The weight room at her house is my favorite. Not because of the equipment, but because of the view. However, today I won’t be watching (and thoroughly enjoying) the fluid movement of her body sliding through the water. Today, I’ll be jumping in headfirst. Literally.
Stepping to the side of the pool, I drop my key fob and phone on the tile floor while I kick off my shoes. I hadn’t bothered changing after weight lifting since I’d planned to head home and take a shower. Instead, I ended up here. And I’m not regretting the decision one bit when I pull the gray Golden Olympus T-shirt over my head, tossing it on the floor, and dive into the pool.
Swimming to the far side of the pool, Victoria is more than aware of my presence since she’s stopped, holding onto the edge. An angry glower fixed in place.
“What are you doing?”
“Swimming.” I stroke my arms across the water, trying to appear relaxed even though I’m anxious to reach her. I need to make it to her before she bails, out of the pool and on me.
“Fine.” She turns, making an attempt to jump out
of the pool. I swim up behind her and grip her hips, preventing her from sneaking away. Swiftly, I turn her to face me, moving forward as her back presses against the smooth tile.
“How many more times do I have to tell you to leave me alone before you actually comprehend it?” she asks, annoyed.
Slowly leaning forward, I brush my lips over hers before whispering, “How many times do I have to tell you that I won’t give up on us, even if you have?”
“There is no us. You’re wasting your time and mine.”
“I’m not buying the BS you’re selling,” I chuckle, feeling her legs wrap around my waist as I press my hard cock against her. But it’s about so much more than sex, and she will figure that out soon enough when my actions speak louder than my words. I should’ve showed her how I felt long ago.
“You do have that bullshit market cornered,” she says, her breath catching as my tongue swipes across her lips, licking a water droplet off.
“I won’t deny that, but I’m not backing down this time. Whether you want to give me another chance or not, I’m going to tell Asher that I’m in love with his sister. I’ll tell him I have to do anything and everything in my power to be with her.”
Her body tenses as she shoves back, looking to me with a disappointed expression. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“The BS promises. And it doesn’t matter at this point. It’s done. We’re done. I’m done.” Her matter-of-fact tone won’t deter me. Nothing will.
“I’m not, and I’ll prove it to you when I risk losing my best friend for a smidgen of hope that his gorgeous, magnificent sister will give me the time of day.” Cautiously, I lean forward, tenderly brushing my lips over hers, anticipating her pushing me away. Only, she doesn’t. Maybe I’m not completely hopeless in her eyes. That concession gives me all the encouragement I need to kiss her. Tender, patient, gentle. Just how I plan to be with her. I’m not backing off, but I will give her time to realize how much she means to me.