by Lara Swann
“Dad.” I say, my own voice hard as I try to break through the rant. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this - it’s not even upsetting, it’s just a little…ridiculous. Part of me wonders whether he’s a little drunk, somehow. “He’s been there for me since the moment I told him about all this. He’s sticking with me, supporting me—”
“For now.” Dad interrupts. “You say you want to make your own choices—this is why that’s a bad idea, Chloe. You don’t have a clue how the world works, and if you think you can trust someone like him, you’re dreaming. You can always tell—it’s no wonder, when he was raised on the East side of town without even a real family—”
“Stop—just stop it!” I say, something in me snapping as I hear that. “How dare you say any of that about his family?! He’s come so far, without any help and his Mom is one of the sweetest women I’ve met, so don’t you dare—don’t you dare—I don’t care if you don’t like him, Dad. I do. I love him. He’s everything and anything I could want and he’s been nothing but perfect for this baby—he’s my baby’s father—the man I love—and I won’t—I won’t—listen to this!”
I take a deep breath, the force of it rushing through me as I try to get myself under control. Dad is staring at me in disbelief, and even I’m incredulous at half the things I said there.
I love him?
I know the moment that I think it that it’s true - that it’s undoubtedly and undeniably true - and then I’m angry all over again that Dad was the one that got to hear that first, and not the man who deserves it.
“I’m tired.” I say, abruptly. I don’t want to stick around and wait for Dad to recover. I have no interest in whatever he may say next, or finishing this conversation at all. “I think I’m going to bed.”
I turn around and leave before he can say anything else, for once totally unconcerned about ending the evening with an unresolved argument, for some strange reason suspecting that things might actually be better in the morning. Once Dad’s anger has had a chance to subside.
Mom and Dad said they were going to let me make my own choices - and this is what they are.
Ash is my choice.
A million times over.
They’re just going to have to get used to it.
When I get up to my room, I pull my phone out almost immediately, flopping down onto the bed. The tensions of the evening may have left me feeling shattered, but sleep wasn’t what I came up here for. No - I want the chance to say more than two words to Ash unobserved.
Me: I’m so sorry.
I send, groaning slightly as I think back to the interrogation of the evening - all those snide, stupid comments Dad tried to make. Ash seemed okay with it at the time, but I wouldn’t be surprised if, by the time he got back—
Ash: I thought that was quite fun.
His reply comes back almost immediately and I look at it for a moment, before rolling over and pressing my face into the pillow, stifling the laugh that wants to roll through me - with relief from everything I was suddenly worried about, with the reminder of his perfect, unique attitude, and the sudden flashbacks of just how thoroughly he thwarted my father tonight. Another buzz has me bringing my phone up again.
Ash: How are you coping with the aftermath?
Me: Okay. It’s nothing I’m not used to.
It’s true, too - if anything, I’m coping better than usual. I’m not going to tell him what Dad tried to say about his family and upbringing, but I feel pleased with myself for standing up for him, at least.
Ash: I wish I’d asked you to come back with me, but I thought that might push things a little too far…even for me.
I sigh as I see the message. I’d almost suggested the exact same thing - taken his hand and left with him on his bike, ridden away to somewhere easier and simpler…and far more fun.
Me: Me too. I was thinking the same thing.
Ash: Tomorrow?
Me: Yes. A million times yes. I can’t wait.
Ash: Me too. I’ll be thinking of you tonight…
I flush as I receive that message, heat traveling all the way down my body, hitting me unexpectedly. I know exactly what he means. Messaging in that way isn’t something we’ve done much of…just once or twice, when it’s been far too long since we’ve seen each other…and it still makes me squirm in a not-entirely-unpleasant way.
I sigh as I let the phone fall away, thinking of him lying in his bed, thinking of me…
Tomorrow.
After everything that happened this evening, it can’t come soon enough.
Chapter Twenty
Ash
The moment Chloe steps through the front door to the shop the next day, after her art class, I sweep her up in a tight hug, pulling her to me and breathing in her unique scent with everything I have.
“God, Chloe…I missed you.” I mutter, kissing the top of her head as she presses against me in a similar way, tilting her head up for a kiss that goes on far longer and deeper than the ‘hello’ I intended.
When our mouths finally break apart, I push the door behind her closed and lock it - still keeping her in my arms.
“I missed you too.” She says, her eyes alight with heat and need as she looks at me.
It’s been five days since I dropped her off at her parents to talk and we last had a chance to see each other properly - without the watchful eye of her asshole father - and it feels like forever. I think living with her, even for a week, has totally spoiled me.
“Last night was torture.” I murmur, stroking her cheek.
Her eyes jump up to me, her body shifting in my embrace almost awkwardly as concern flashes across her face. “I’m sorry, Ash, really, I know my Dad was—”
“Not your Dad.” I shake my head, teasing her lips with my mouth again. “You. Seeing you all night…being so close to you…unable to touch or taste you the way I wanted so badly…”
As quickly as it appeared, the tension vanishes from her and she giggles, just a little.
“I seem to remember a few touches…”
“Not enough.” I growl, running my hands down her body and squeezing her ass. “Not nearly enough.”
She moans, stepping closer to me again and hugging me tight. “Oh, Ash…”
I like the way she says that. I always do. There’s something about hearing my name on her lips. When we finally stop touching and kissing long enough to get out of the shop and up into my living space, curled up on the couch together, she sighs and leans into me. There’s the takeout menu in front of us, ready to order a late dinner as we’ve taken to doing after her classes, but I don’t think either of us are paying any attention to it.
I’m not hungry right now - not for anything but her.
“I am sorry about last night, you know.” She repeats, and I have to laugh.
“I think you’ve said that a million times. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
“My Dad—”
“Is not your responsibility. You can’t be held accountable for whatever he says or does - that’s all on him. And besides, I can take care of myself. A few sharp words aren’t about to intimidate me.”
That makes her laugh again, and I’m relieved to see the way her eyes shine as she looks up at me. I’d worried that maybe things would go badly after I left - there was a part of me that was itching to take her away with me, and not to leave her with that man - that maybe she’d come back to me today as upset as she had been last week.
I’m glad that she does seem okay, even if her father turned out to be exactly as bad as I’d thought. I’m not about to voice any of those thoughts in front of her - he’s her Dad, after all, and she doesn’t deserve to deal with me bad-mouthing him - but it was obvious from the first moment that he’s a bully and a tyrant, even without knowing all the things she’d already told me.
It makes my blood boil to think of her living there, with him, if I dwell on it too much—and as for the baby—
I deliberately push that thought out of my mind
, knowing there’s nothing I can do about it right now and - as much as it galls me - living with a tyrannical father is still probably better than living with an ex-Eastern Slayer at the moment. At least she’s had her whole life to learn how to deal with that.
Eventually though…eventually, that will change. It’s going to have to.
But for the moment, I settled for doing everything I could last night to undermine the iron-tight hold he has on her family, and I won’t deny the perverse sense of satisfaction I got from seeing his self-control slip further and further as I challenged him. The idiot has never been confronted with real intimidation in his life. If he had, he’d probably run a mile - or piss his pants—
“What are you smiling about?” Chloe asks, tilting her head at me, and I give her a sharp grin.
“Just the look on your father’s face, at the end there.” I say, unashamedly. I’m damn proud of what I did last night - and from the way the grin spreads over her face too and she starts laughing again, I can tell she doesn’t exactly mind.
“Yeah, Ash…you were something else.” She shakes her head. “I don’t think he’s ever met someone like you before.”
“He hasn’t.” I say, with a cocky grin. “There’s no one like me, Chloe.”
She smiles back, indulging me as she leans in for a kiss.
“No…” She murmurs. “There sure isn’t…”
My hand comes around the back of her neck and I pull her deeper into me, both of us sliding down the couch a little. My cock is already half-hard and beyond interested in where this evening is going to go, but I also feel like I haven’t had the chance to simply talk to her for days either. Right now, I’m not sure which I want more.
My hands are moving of their own accord, though, sliding down her body and feeling all those tight curves I can’t wait to have pressed up against me, hearing her moan a little as we kiss. It’s enough to stir everything within me tight with need - but she pulls away again before I can go any further, her eyes a little glassy but thoughts clearly still swirling behind them.
God damn it. Those few seconds were all it took to make up my mind…in the other direction.
“It’s not really you, you know.” She murmurs, her hand still stroking across the underside of my t-shirt.
“What’s not me?” I say, trying not to make the groan in my voice obvious as I sit up a little bit too.
“I don’t think it’s really you that Dad dislikes.” She clarifies, still sounding thoughtful. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her closer to me, until she’s leaning her head against me.
“Really?” I raise an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”
She giggles slightly, but shakes her head - when she looks up, though, her eyes are serious.
“I think he doesn’t like that I finally have somewhere to go…that I don’t have to rely on them so much. It’s an independence thing. I don’t think I’ve ever had it before, but…I’m starting to feel it now, really.”
That makes me smile, the frustrated lust still twisting through me worth it to hear that.
“I’m glad.” I murmur. “Though I’ve got to say, Chloe, your Dad…”
I don’t come right out and say I don’t like him. I let her fill in the gaps. I’m pretty sure it’s not hard to do.
“I know…” She shakes her head. “He’ll get used to it, though. It’s a new thing, all this independence, and I can understand him feeling uncomfortable about his little girl growing up like that - but he’ll adjust.”
I’m not nearly as convinced about that as she seems to be. Even the language she uses - his little girl - gives me totally the wrong vibe. She’s twenty-three. Not someone to be sheltered and protected like she’s a kid.
“Mm…I guess we’ll see.” I say, deliberately non-committal. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t miss that, but she doesn’t say anything.
“It might even help if you come around a bit more.” She says, raising an eyebrow with a spark of mischief in her eyes.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Take him down a peg or two.” She grins. “Last night was pretty good for that…I mean, oh my, when you mentioned marrying me?! I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look like that before…”
That makes me laugh, and I lean down to kiss the top of her head.
She twists around a little, looking at me askance as she gives me a crooked smile. “You didn’t really mean that, right? The marriage thing?”
“I said it to give your Dad a heart-attack, yeah.” I grin back at her, but then I find myself pulling her up closer to me and laughing slightly, raising an eyebrow casually. I’m acting like it’s no big deal, but suddenly my heart is thumping hard in my chest and I’m not so sure. “But hey, why not? Maybe we should - get married, leave Baltimore and all of this drama and irritation behind, start a new life somewhere better.”
I say it as if I’m joking - because really, how else can I say it - but I’m not entirely sure I am.
Not about the marriage part or leaving Baltimore.
There’s so much of me that just wants to get away from all this - take her away from her parents, from the threats and danger and just make her mine. Maybe that’s cowardly - maybe it’s just running away - but if it is, I’m willing to accept that anyway. It’s different when there’s a baby to think about, and I know that neither of them deserve what could be coming after me.
Could be. That’s the thing. I don’t even fucking know.
Since my shop got trashed, I haven’t heard anything else - from anyone. It’s been almost eerily quiet, and I know that every day that passes has me relaxing just a little more, whether that’s a good idea or not.
It’s hard not to start thinking that maybe Blake was right - maybe that one hit was the end of it and they either got what they wanted or realized it wasn’t here - but…I haven’t heard anything from him either. I’m still waiting for the call that tells me it’s all over - it’s done with and I can really relax - and it hasn’t come. Not yet.
That’s enough to disturb me, and I can’t help wondering what’s going on over there, with my old club. Whether they’re okay - whether Blake is okay - and what it means for me. Living in this state of half-wariness while reluctantly starting to relax a little anyway is hard to deal with.
Chloe laughs, the sound of it a little bemused as she looks at me, and it draws my attention back out of those dark thoughts.
“Leave Baltimore?” She asks, her tone light with amusement as she smiles crookedly at me. “That’s a little strong, don’t you think?”
“It’s not exactly the nicest city.” I point out, caressing her cheek lightly.
“Well, I mean, sure.” She laughs again, shaking her head - and I can feel her shaking off any serious note to the discussion with it. “But everything is here. I’ve lived here all my life…though I get what you mean, sometimes I want to leave all that behind too, just disappear and start again. It’s a nice dream sometimes, huh?”
“Yeah.” I say, keeping my tone as light as hers, even as the anticipated disappointment settles inside me. “Yeah, it’s a nice dream.”
It’s not like I expected anything else - I didn’t even mention it seriously, exactly - but for some reason my heart sinks a little anyway.
“I’d settle for moving to a nicer part of it, in this daydream of yours.” She says, tilting her head at me with a smirk. “That’s probably all we need.”
Just like that, the wisp of that idea dissolves into the fantasy she obviously thinks it is.
“Yeah?” I ask idly, letting the brief discussion about marriage and everything else fall away. “Maybe we’ll work on that, then.”
I can’t help the instinctive disappointment, even though I knew she’d never seriously consider that right now, but I don’t press it. As much as the idea of marrying her - whether we run away or not - has some sort of crazy appeal, I know it’s not a good idea.
There are good reasons Chloe shouldn’t be married to me right now - or, fo
r that matter, seriously attached in any way - but while the attachment might not have been noticed yet…the marriage definitely would. This isn’t the right time - I know that - so I don’t tell her that despite what she thinks, what I said to her father yesterday wasn’t a joke or any kind of casual comment.
I meant everything I said and when this is all finally over, I have every intention of doing this whole thing properly and making her mine - for good. I don’t know quite when that happened, or what changed - but I know it for certain now. I want this baby - and I want Chloe along with it. I can’t imagine life any other way.
“Yeah, let’s do that. A new baby…and eventually, a new place to live together, too.” Chloe says, sighing contentedly as she snuggles against me. There’s a small smile playing across her lips as she looks up at me. “I love you, Ash.”
I blink, taken by surprise as that seems to come out of nowhere - out of a discussion that had been mostly relegated to a daydream - and I watch as she flushes, heat spreading across her face.
“I mean…I just wanted to tell you that. I said it to my parents last night, so I thought it was only right that I tell you too, but—well—you don’t have to say it back or anything, I just—”
I lean down, tilting her chin up to me and taking her mouth in mine as she tries to talk, obviously flustered and so fucking perfect that I can’t resist anything about her. Emotions surge up through me, filling me with a warmth unlike anything I’ve ever known - except with Chloe.
I can’t stop kissing her, my tongue plunging deep into her mouth, thrusting and twisting with her own as I tilt forward, our bodies sliding down the couch until I’m on top of her, her hands running down my back and legs wrapping around my hips. I try to take a few breaths, our lips parting just long enough for me to say the words I suddenly know I’ve felt for a long time.
“I love you too, Chloe.” I say, gasping slightly as the words escape me with a growl. “So fucking much…for so long…”
I want to say more - so much more - but I can’t as she pulls my face back to hers, elation in her eyes as we tangle together. My hips start moving of their own accord, my frustrated cock trapped within my pants as we grind against each other. My hands start moving over her body too, stroking around her gorgeous breasts until I’m supporting them along with the thin bra she’s wearing, my thumbs grazing over nipples that are hardening enough to be seen even through the bra and light blouse she has on.