Bossy Bastard: A Hero Club Novel

by J. L. Perry

  “What changed?”

  “She did,” I say. “Looking back now, all the signs were there. I was just too blind to see them.”

  “Love’s blind, so they say.”

  “So, they say. But I don’t think I ever loved her.”

  “Because you’re not capable of love?”

  No, because I never felt for her what I feel for you.

  “It’s not that I wasn’t capable… I just knew it wasn’t love. In the beginning, we were inseparable, but after a few months, things started to change. She became possessive and controlling of my life, what I wore, where I went, who I spoke to. She even tried to come between my friendship with Grayson.”

  “Geez. That’s awful. He seems like a good friend to you.”

  I smile because he is. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Things got dramatically worse from there. Christ, my mother even hated her. That should have been a huge red flag for me. She’d marry me off to one of her damn servants if it meant she’d get the grandbabies she’s desperately craving.” I release a small laugh. “I had no idea she was a bunny boiler. If I did, I never would’ve let things get serious between us.”

  “A what?”

  “Bunny boiler. Have you ever watched the movie Fatal Attraction?”

  It takes a few moments, but when I hear a soft gasp, I know she’s caught on. “Wow. So, basically, she ended up being like Glen Close in Fatal Attraction? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Yes.”

  “She didn’t actually boil your bunny, though, right?”

  I chuckle. “No, it’s just a metaphor, Em. I didn’t even own a bunny.”

  “Phew.”

  “She started following me around when we weren’t together. Turning up at my work, the gym… everywhere. She’d threaten any woman who dared to look my way.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Like a fool, I moved her in with me. She was insecure, and I thought it would prove to her that I was committed to us. I’m a lot of things, but a cheater isn’t one of them. I grew up with a father who had a string of mistresses.”

  Emma lifts her head off my chest. “Your father cheats on your mother?”

  I shrug. “He used to. I’m not sure if he still does.”

  “Wow.”

  “I once walked into his office and found him balls deep in his secretary. I was only nine years old. It was the day I lost all respect for the man.”

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  I sigh. Me too. It’s a sobering thought when the person you looked up to most, the one you once aspired to be like, turns out to be a huge disappointment.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  She places a light kiss on my chest, and I smile.

  “Moving Ana into my home didn’t help. She became even more possessive… she was smothering me. She tried to isolate me from my family and friends… from everything.”

  “You poor thing.”

  “The final straw came the night of Grayson’s twenty-fourth birthday. She didn’t want to go to the celebrations, but I refused to miss it. He’s my best friend. She turned up a few hours later, drunk, and made a huge scene in front of everyone. It was humiliating.” I gloss over all the details of our tumultuous relationship—the tantrums, the meltdowns, the violence. “That night I slept in the spare room. I didn’t want to be anywhere near her. I was so angry…” I pause for a moment and consider whether to tell her the rest.

  “You broke up after that.”

  “Yes. The next morning, I woke up in a pool of blood. She smashed a bottle over my head while I slept. I ended up with six stitches.”

  Emma draws back again to look at me. I’m surprised to see tears glistening in her eyes. “I can’t believe she’d do something like that to you.”

  My fingers brush across her jaw. “It’s in the past now, Em. It’s the only scar she left on me.”

  Well, on the outside anyway.

  “Not all scars mar the skin, Ashton. It’s the ones below the surface that have the power to destroy you. The ones you can’t physically see.”

  Isn’t that the truth?

  “I know,” I say, tucking her hair behind her ear. She knows that better than I do.

  A lump forms in my throat when I see her first tear fall.

  “Don’t cry for me, sweet-thing.”

  “It hurts my heart to hear what you went through.”

  “It’s okay. I’m okay. Grayson took me to the emergency room at the hospital, but I didn’t press charges, I just wanted her gone. I couldn’t live like that anymore.”

  “Did she leave you alone after that?”

  “No. She went totally off the rails. I changed the locks after she moved out, but it didn’t stop her from coming around. She even tried to break in a few times.”

  “She sounds very unstable.”

  “Unstable is an understatement.”

  “One particular night, she came to my house.” I don’t tell Emma why. I don’t have the heart or the stomach to talk about that right now. “She was a mess. I felt sorry for her. She told me she had no money, nowhere to go, so I let her stay in the spare room. I woke up the next morning, and she was naked beside me.” She’d wrapped her lips around my dick as I slept, but I leave that part out. She doesn’t need to hear it. “She started talking about getting married and how we were going to have a wonderful life together. I told her it was never going to happen.”

  “I bet that didn’t go down well.”

  “No. When I walked through the front door that evening after work, I smelled gasoline. She’d doused it throughout the room and on herself. She said if I wouldn’t be with her in this life, then we could be together in the next.”

  “Oh my God. She was going to set you on fire?”

  “Yeah. But I was able to subdue her and get her the help she needed.”

  “What happened?”

  “She was committed and doing well… the medication they’d put her on seemed to be helping. She was better than she’d been in a long time. Then one day I got a call to say she’d gone missing. To this day, I don’t know how she managed to escape. Grayson and I drove around for hours, well into the night trying to find her.”

  “That was big of you, considering everything she’d put you through.”

  “She had an illness, she needed help.”

  I had a vested interest in her wellbeing.

  “Did you find her?”

  I swallow hard before saying the next part. “I found her at my house.”

  “Oh.”

  “She’d slit her wrists and bled out on my bathroom floor.” I feel her body stiffen as I reach for her hand and run my thumb over her wrist. “When I first saw these scars on your wrist, they terrified me. You terrified me.”

  She sniffles into my chest. “I remember the morning we met. You freaked out when you saw them. I was so ashamed. I didn’t know why. I’m sorry.”

  “They’re one of my favorite parts of you now. They show me how brave and strong you are… that you’re a survivor.”

  Emma’s tears flow freely now. “I’m sorry for what she did and for everything you went through because of it.”

  “I still feel responsible for what happened,” I admit.

  “None of it was your fault. You tried to help her. She was sick, you said so yourself.”

  “I can’t help feeling like I let her down when she needed me most. I’m petrified one day I’ll let you down, too. That’s why I asked you to leave that morning. I couldn’t live with myself if I did that to you.”

  Her tortured eyes meet mine. “I’m not her,” is all she says.

  In my heart, I’ve always known, but I finally see it.

  She’s nothing like Anastasia.

  She’s the beacon in my chaos.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  EMMA

  We pull into the driveway of my father’s home just as the sun is setting behind the mountains. It
’s a beautiful sight, and something I’ve missed since moving away. Many a night I sat on the back porch watching the sky light up in iridescent orange as it disappeared behind the peaks.

  Ashton suggested we hire a car to get around in while we’re here, but it was pointless since we had my father’s truck to use. It may not be as flashy as the cars he’s used to, but it runs well.

  After helping me feed the animals and collect the fresh eggs from the chicken coop this morning, I gave him a quick tour of my father’s studio before we headed to the hospital.

  I was happy to find my dad had come along in leaps and bounds overnight. Well, considering how I left him the night before, he had. He was awake, talking, and very much alive. The relief I felt when I walked into his room and received a weak smile, brought me to tears.

  We even managed to sit him up for a short time and get a little lunch into him, but his discomfort from being upright and digesting the food became too much. Understandably, considering his chest cavity had been cut open the day prior. It hurt me to see him in so much pain.

  He’d been equally surprised to see Ashton in tow. Dad was wary at first, but as the day rolled on, he warmed to him. It’s hard not to. Ashton has a certain charisma you can’t help but be drawn to. The fact that Ashton was so attentive to my needs throughout the day definitely helped. My father has never been one of those possessive men, he just wants me to find someone who’ll love me as much as he does.

  Ashton and I have progressed somewhat after our heart to heart this morning. But I’m still being cautious. I don’t want to rush things. I’m hurt by what he did, but I understand his reasons behind it now.

  I hate what he had to endure at the hands of that woman. I also felt tremendous guilt from the trauma he went through after finding her body. My father was the one who found me, and it was only by pure chance. He returned home shortly after leaving for work because he’d forgotten something. If it had been later that day, I’d no longer be here.

  The look on his face when he discovered me will haunt me until the day I die. It will probably haunt him too. He gave up working at the mine that same day and stuck to me like glue for the weeks that followed. He was terrified I’d make another attempt on my life.

  I wouldn’t have. My lesson came the hard way, and suicide wasn’t the answer. I had to hit rockbottom to realize, but no matter how low I felt, or how much life kept kicking while I was down, I learned tomorrow is always a different day. I’m living proof of that. With faith, determination, and the love and support from the people around me, things turned around.

  “Let me help you with those,” Ashton says, taking the grocery bags out of my hands. He’s already laden down with his own.

  “I can carry some.”

  “Em,” he warns, giving me a stern look.

  I roll my eyes. “Fine.”

  We stopped off at Walmart before leaving Salt Lake City to stock up on supplies.

  My father insisted on us leaving after we got him settled in his new floor. We got to speak with the doctor before we left, and he’s pleased with my father’s progress. I’m still harboring concerns, but I feel like I can breathe easier now.

  When we reach the kitchen, Ashton places the bags on the breakfast bar.

  “What do you feel like for dinner?” I ask. But, before I get the chance to start unpacking, he pulls me into his arms.

  “You. I’ve been starved for you all day.”

  I’m astounded to think a man who has everything would be hungry for just one girl. Much less me.

  Sliding his hand behind my neck, he pulls my mouth to his. My toes curl, and all rational thoughts are lost the moment our lips connect.

  Ashton steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped low around his hips. I lick my lips as my eyes drink him in. He’s a work of art.

  “Have you given any thought to what’s going to happen when your father leaves the hospital tomorrow?” he asks.

  We’ve been in Utah for six days now, and he’s finally well enough to come home.

  “I can’t think straight with you standing there dressed in that towel,” I reply.

  “My bad.” He uncurls it from around his waist, letting it drop to the floor below. “Better?”

  “No.” I let out a small laugh. “You naked is even more distracting.”

  There’s a smoldering look on his ridiculously handsome face as he crawls over the bed to where I’m sitting cross-legged sorting through my emails. “The view from here is no less distracting,” he says. “I have a bird’s eye view of your panties when you sit like that.” He moves my laptop out of the way, pushing me back onto the mattress as he gathers up his T-shirt I put on after my shower, bunching it around my waist. “I love seeing you wearing my clothes.”

  “And I love seeing you out of your clothes,” I retort.

  “Is that so?”

  “Ah-huh.”

  Ashton’s hungry eyes move back to my cotton underwear. “Fucking ice-cream cones, Em.”

  Bringing his face forward, he buries it between my legs. Running his nose up my center, he inhales deeply before replacing it with his mouth, growling. I can feel his warm breath on my sensitive flesh through the thin fabric. “Your panties are my kryptonite. You’re like walking food porn.”

  “Carla calls them granny pants.”

  “Not on you, sweet-thing. They’re sexy as fuck.” He pulls me back up into a sitting position, pulling the shirt over my head before lying me back down. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” He makes me feel beautiful. “How much you turn me on?” He settles his face between my cleavage, palming my breasts with his hands. “I could suffocate right here and die a happy man. So soft… so fucking sweet.”

  “I need you inside me,” I pant.

  There’s a gleam in his eyes as he raises his head to look at me. “My favorite place to be.”

  I can’t tell you how many times we’ve done it over the past six days. Ashton bought a large box of condoms the first time we went shopping, and we’ve almost gone through them. My father would have another heart attack if he knew what we’ve been up to, and the magnitude of places he’s taken me.

  This is all new to us, but it’s like we can’t get enough of each other.

  Ashton places a chaste kiss on my lips before hopping off the bed. He makes quick work of sheathing himself with a condom and removing my underwear.

  When he settles back over me, he hooks one of my legs around his waist before lifting my arms above my head and entwining our fingers together. It’s the same thing he did the first time we had sex.

  Our eyes are locked as he gradually enters me, filling me completely. There’s something about the way he’s looking at me which makes my heart race.

  “Je t’aime,” he whispers. I love you.

  I wish I knew what he was saying.

  He slowly withdraws before pushing back in, and I capture my bottom lip between my teeth in an attempt to suppress my moan.

  “Fuck, you feel amazing,” he breathes.

  Forgiveness means you’re giving yourself a chance to make a new beginning. And I truly believe it’s not how we make mistakes, but how we correct them that defines us. And in the last nine days, Ashton has more than made up for his shortcomings. I’m far surpassed forgiving him, I’ve fallen head over heels in love. I’ve kept that to myself, though. I don’t want to scare him off again.

  Once you peel back his many layers and find the real Ashton Barclay, the one who hides behind his huge ego, it’s impossible not to love him. Does he feel the same way about me? I don’t know, but he can’t deny we’ve grown closer during our time here.

  “Have you got everything?” he asks, taking my suitcase out of my hand.

  “I think so.”

  “I’m going to miss being here… with you.”

  “It’s been nice, all things considering. Thank you for making it so pleasurable.”

  “Pleasuring you is my specialty,” he says, grabbing a handful of my butt che
ek and squeezing it.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter, Barclay. That’s not what I meant.”

  “My mind is always in the gutter where you’re concerned, sweet-thing,” he says, chuckling.

  “It’s going to be weird going back to Cali… back to our normal lives.”

  “I know. I think when we get home, you should move in with me.”

  “Very funny.” I laugh because I think he’s joking, but when I see hurt flash through his eyes, I’m not so sure he is.

  We’ve spent the last few days here with my dad, making sure he’s settled and comfortable. I’ve cleaned the house from top to bottom, caught up on his laundry, stripped the beds, and prepared healthy meals for him for the next three days. Ashton worked out in the yard getting the lawns mowed and everything else that needed doing around the place. We organized for a community nurse to come by daily, and the neighbors all said they’d keep an eye on him. I hate leaving, but Ashton refuses to go back to LA without me. And I have to get back to work. My kids need me.

  A few weeks ago, I finally made some progress with Savanna, the young girl who refused treatment for her eating disorder because she wanted to die. We’re not supposed to talk about our personal lives with our patients, but out of pure desperation, I told her my story. Every sordid detail. The bullying, the bulimia, even the attempt on my life. We both cried, and then hugged, but when we were through with our session, I saw something in her eyes that wasn’t there before—a glint of hope. I’ve been in contact with her and her parents via email while I’ve been here, and things are changing. There’s a long road ahead, but we’re finally starting to move forward.

  When we get downstairs, we find my dad resting on his recliner in front of the television. He’s not the type of man to lie around and do nothing, so I know his recovery is going to be hard on him.

  “Dad, we’re getting ready to leave. The cab should be here in a few minutes.”

  Reclining his chair forward, he slowly stands. “I wish you’d let me drive you to the airport. I’m not an invalid.”