by Lara Swann
“Mm?” I ask, my arm around her and my fingers massaging her shoulder. However stressed I might be, I’m never going to get tired of simply touching and being around her.
“Do you think…I know what you said before, but…do you think we’re moving too fast?” She finally says, worrying at her bottom lip, the skin there moving between white and pink as she bites it. The biting is a little distracting, make me want to lean in and kiss her…and I don’t resist the urge.
I know what she’s talking about is important, however reluctant I am to have the conversation, but first…I take her mouth in mine, brushing my lips over hers softly at first, slowly firming and deepening the kiss until both our mouths are moving together, our breath intermingled and her pulse rising in her neck.
God, I love doing that.
“No.” I finally say, pulling back with a small, encouraging smile on my face. “No…I love that you’re here, Chloe. I love living with you.”
I say it with all my very real conviction, wanting her to feel it the same way I do - and I’ll keep saying it, as many times as she needs to hear, until she’s convinced.
Her eyes dart away from me and I can see the confusion on her face as she sighs.
“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” I ask, before she can say anything else, and she shakes her head.
“No, Ash, I want this, it’s just…I don’t know.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem…yourself…since I’ve moved in. I don’t know, maybe this is just what happens when people start living together? The end of the honeymoon phase of the relationship or something, but—”
“No.” I say it a little more forcefully than I intend to, but hearing her say that hits me hard. I repeat it, softening my voice and pulling her closer to me. “No, Chloe, I love you. More than anything in the world - and I’m so excited for our baby, and everything we’re going to do together. I don’t believe in that ‘honeymoon period’ thing - I haven’t been able to get enough of you since the moment we first met, and I still can’t…you don’t see that?”
I ask it, genuinely concerned. I know I’m distracted and tense at the moment, but if she doesn’t feel loved in the way she deserves—
“No, I do.” She shakes her head, her brow creasing in confusion. “I do feel all that…all the same things we’ve had together from the start…maybe even more intense, recently, but…but, well, you just don’t seem very…happy, I guess.”
She looks up at me, her expression open and concerned - so pure in its simple attempt to understand that I immediately feel bad.
“I’m sorry.” I say softly, wishing I could say more. Wishing I could tell her something, somehow.
I can’t wait until all this is finally over. Until we get to live our lives without that breathing down my neck.
She shakes her head. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault - I just, I keep feeling like I’m getting in the way, like it would be easier if I wasn’t here…”
“No.” I shake my head again, even though it’s not quite true. I would feel so much more relieved if she wasn’t here right now, but not for any of the reasons she thinks. “You’re not, Chloe, you couldn’t possibly get in the way. I love waking up next to you every morning and spending the evenings curled up together like this. It’s—”
I hesitate, but I know she’s looking for an answer, I can see the questioning in her eyes and I know nothing is quite going to put it to rest until I give her something. For one brief, crazy moment, I consider telling her the truth.
But how can I tell her that being around me might be putting her and our baby in danger? It’s not like she has another choice right now - and how could she ever deal with the truth about the club…about what I used to do? She’s been more open than I’d ever given her credit for, but that is too far for most people, let alone sweet, pure girls like Chloe.
Not to mention all the trouble she could get in purely by association if she did know. No. I remind myself for the thousandth time that it’s best for everyone involved if she doesn’t.
“It’s just…I’m stressed about the shop at the moment.” I say, and it’s a half-truth at least. “I still owe some of the guys whose bikes were trashed and I’m worried about the cash flow of it all. It’s just…a lot to deal with right now. I’m hoping it will clear up soon, and then I can just focus on moving on - onward and upward from there, with you and our baby.”
She looks at me, and I can see from her expression that she’s unconvinced - but also that she desperately wants to believe me, too. It breaks my heart to see it and I wonder whether I’m a total bastard for keeping all this from her.
Yes. You are.
But the idea of her running off…the girl I love more than anything in the world…with my child…
I can’t bear the thought of it. And it will all be over soon anyway.
Please, damn it, let it all be over soon.
“The…shop?” She asks, hesitant, and I nod, leaning down to kiss her again.
“Yeah, I’m sorry Chloe, I know I’m a little distracted at the moment. But it will get better, I promise.”
She’s still biting her lip, and she looks at me for a very long time, but eventually she nods and cuddles closer to me.
“Okay…” She says. “But you will let me know…if there’s anything wrong? Especially…especially with us?”
Oh fuck.
The way she says that…
I have to push it out of my head before I cave and tell her everything, just to take that painful uncertainty out of her eyes and voice.
“I promise.” I say instead, trying to make it as reassuring as possible. “But I can’t imagine anything ever being wrong with that, Chloe. I love you - so much.”
Not unless she finds out, anyway. If that happens, there won’t even be an ‘us’ to go wrong.
The idea scares me almost as much as the guys who might - or might not - be coming after me.
“I love you too.” She says, sighing softly, and I pull her tight into my body.
She turns the reality TV show back on and this time I try to pay attention, to force my mind to be with her instead of all the terrifying things that might happen to her. When it finishes, I spend the rest of the night showing her how much she means to me - and just how much I crave her - again, and again, and again.
I’m not sure it totally works, but I think it helps - and until all this is over, that’s all I can do.
So I’ll do everything in my power to do it fucking well.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chloe
I frown, pausing in my quick pencil strokes as I lean back a little and consider the overall piece I’m working on.
I’m sat in my weekly art class, three weeks away from the exhibition, and I think I might finally have settled on a subject matter and style for the exhibit. It’s weeks after most of the other students here have already started working on the three pieces we’re each submitting and I know I’m going to be working frantically up until the deadline to catch up - but since I’m no longer working at my parents’ store anymore and Ash doesn’t need too much help around his shop, thankfully I have the time.
I’ve mentioned to Ash a few times that I should probably get a job now - a proper one - especially as I’ve now signed up for my own health insurance and we have the baby to think about supporting. Nat has said that the call center he works at would be willing to take me on even though I’m already pregnant - they have a lot of short-term staff and there would definitely be a gap for me to fill - but Ash knows how important this exhibition is to me, and he won’t let me think about it until after that’s done.
He keeps pointing out that maybe I’ll sell my art there and get enough people interested in commissioning me for more that I won’t need another job. The unwavering support there warms me all over, even if I’m fully aware the sentiment is totally deluded. That’s not quite how these things work.
I’m so grateful for the insistence, though, and the chance to work guilt-free on
this. With everything else that’s been going on, I’ve been so distracted that I don’t know whether I’ve fully made the most of this opportunity - and I intend to correct that in the next few weeks, at least.
With that in mind, I start flicking through the sketch book I’ve got propped on another easel to the side of me, looking for another couple of sketches I’ve done previously to compare them to what’s in front of me—
“Hey, what’s that?”
I jump at the voice behind me, too absorbed to have noticed the instructor come up behind me. The interest in her voice makes my breath catch slightly, and I can’t help hoping that maybe I’m finally on the right track.
I gesture to the drawing I’m working on. “It’s the initial sketch for—”
“No, not that.” She shakes her head, one perfectly manicured finger coming down on the sketch book I was flicking through instead. It’s easy to tell that she’s the half of this duo that deals with the exhibitions and galleries - the other instructor’s hands are the opposite, covered in marks and calluses - and if I’m honest, this is the one I most want to impress. “On the other page back there.”
“Oh…” I frown, looking back at the book. “I’m not sure…”
I don’t know what’s caught her eye, but I flick back through the pages again—until she stops me with a sudden exclamation.
“There - that! I haven’t seen that before.”
I look at the page I’ve stopped at, an embarrassed heat slowly creeping up my neck as I realize just what it was that caught her eye.
Ash. In all his magnificent, half-naked glory.
“Oh, um—sorry—I—” I bite my lip, waiting for some kind of outburst as I try desperately to find some sort of explanation, the confrontation with Dad when he found this kind of drawing freezing me in sudden panic.
“That’s…really…” She’s staring at it in fascination, and doesn’t seem to notice my mortification at all as she pulls the book closer to her, then glances at me. “Really different.”
“Um, yeah…I…”
“Have you done any more like it?”
“Um…yes…” I say, slightly confused.
“Can I look through?”
I nod, unable to form words as I try to work out what’s going on - not quite able to process her reaction. It doesn’t seem like she’s condemning it…
She looks through, stopping on each page with a drawing of Ash…and there are more than a few. I curse myself for not separating them out into a different sketchbook, but since I’ve left my parents I’ve been a lot less careful about things like that - and I know part of that is pure defiance. That’s part of the reason why there are so many of those sketches in that book, too. I mean, apart from the fact that Ash is simply amazing to draw - even just from the image in my head.
After Dad’s reaction, I felt a little shell-shocked at the thought of drawing him again - and that was enough reason to make sure I did it. Again and again and again. I didn’t want what happened with Dad to take that away from me, or make me feel uncomfortable about doing something that I loved, and I was worried that if I couldn’t bring myself to draw Ash again then eventually maybe I wouldn’t be able to draw at all.
So I fixed that by making a point of doing it - and then, free from all my parents’ judgments about what’s appropriate, I just let myself enjoy it. A lot.
“There are really good.” The instructor says from beside me, and I blink, refocusing her in confusion. She points to one, her finger tapping lightly at the page to the side as she considers. “It’s like…his whole body…all these lines…are a reflection of that glint he has there in his eyes.”
I try to look at the picture objectively - to see what she’s saying - but if I’m honest, all I see is Ash. I’m not sure I thought about any of that as I was drawing it, but I nod anyway, trying to go along with it.
She glances over at me. “Have you thought about working on a set of these for the exhibition?”
I blink again, surprise startling me. “I—umm—”
“I know it’s a little late.” She says, glancing at what I’m currently working on before looking back at me. “But if you had any of these in another format…it might be worth working on them. I think these could do really well.”
“I—you do?”
She nods. “Just something to think about.”
She straightens, bringing the conversation to a close as she turns to continue her walk around the class - before pausing, glancing back at me with sudden curiosity.
“Who’s the model, out of interest?” She asks, tilting her head. “I might be interested in contacting him for a few other classes that are being run.”
That does make me flush, and I squirm a little where I’m sitting - not sure whether I’m more embarrassed or amused.
“Um, er, he’s…not a professional. He’s just…my boyfriend.”
She laughs at that, her head tipping back slightly, then gives me a grin. “Well, let him know about the offer anyway - just in case.”
“Um, sure.” I mumble, still embarrassed as she walks off, chuckling slightly to herself.
It takes me a moment to get over the slight mortification burning through me - but then I’m just sitting there, looking at the sketch of Ash that she was talking about, totally blown away by what just happened.
That’s…that’s the strongest steer I’ve ever had from her. More than a hint - an actual, full-blown suggestion. I’d just never considered…
But why not? Why not Ash? You love drawing him, he’s absolutely made for it, and…and of course there’s more feeling behind that than anything else. What other subject do you know so intimately?
It feels crazy, but I don’t know how much of that is just my parents’ voice in my head - and that’s enough to make the decision. I pull away from the drawing I was working on and look down at the sketch book again.
I’ve never tried painting Ash before, but…I’m going to do it.
He’s going to be the center of my submission for the exhibition.
And really, what could be more appropriate than that?
The thought makes me laugh, and I rest a hand on my belly as excitement floods through me and I flip to a new page, starting to sketch out some concepts for the three-piece work.
When the class is done, I head home with a spring in my step, already grinning at the idea of telling Ash about what happened this evening - and what the instructor said. I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of that.
A model. Really.
I’m not sure that’s his gig at all - though I can probably convince him to let me take a few photos of different poses for my work, if going on the image in my mind isn’t enough - but I’m sure it will make him laugh.
I smile as I think about it, glad to have something fun to bring home with me tonight. It feels like we haven’t had enough of that recently, and I’m not going to lie - I’m still concerned about what’s going on with him. I’m not sure when the last time he actually laughed with me was. He says it’s all fine…but it doesn’t feel fine.
All I can do is hope that it’s just temporary, the way he claims, even though I’m not sure what might change. From everything I can see, the shop is working out okay, and I thought all that chaos was behind us now.
I push those thoughts away, determined not to dwell on it and to be cheerful and upbeat tonight. That’s what we need. Just a nice evening together where we can get back to the good things we have going on.
“Hey!” I call out as I enter the shop, already grinning.
He comes out of the back office, obviously still working despite the late hour, his face drawn. It eases slightly as he sees me, a hint of warmth appearing there. I can’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes and wish he would just talk to me, but I don’t mention it as he smiles at me, coming closer and settling his hands on my hips, pulling me in for a kiss.
I sink into the warmth of his body with a sigh. At least that hasn’t changed.
/> “You’ll never guess what happened today.” I say as I pull back, smiling at him. A small light appears in his eyes as he sees my enthusiasm, and he raises an eyebrow in that cocky way I’ve missed.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, let me show you—” I turn away, pulling my bag off my shoulder and walking over to one of the counters, glancing over my shoulder at him as I do. “So one of the instructors came up to me today—”
A loud banging at the door interrupts me and I jump, startled, glancing at Ash. It’s past ten o’clock and the shop is decidedly shut, who would—
“Police! Open up!”
I frown. “Why would—”
I stop as I see Ash’s face. There’s a grim twist to it, a bleakness in his eyes that chills me more than anything else as he opens his mouth to say something to me—
“We’re coming in! Hands in the air and drop your weapons!”
What? Weapons?! We don’t have any—
Ash never gets past my name as there’s a loud crash and the door jumps away from it’s hinges - several armed police officers storming in, guns drawn and pointed in our direction. I let out a short scream, terrified and confused, my hands jumping up into the air immediately. Ash’s hands rise too, but more slowly, and most of the guns level on him.
“Ash Thorne?” One asks, stepping closer.
“Yes, what’s this about—”
He moves cautiously up to Ash, flanked by the two men with guns to either side, and all my insides turn to jelly as I see him grab Ash’s hands and roughly yank them behind his back. The click of the handcuffs is obvious as his gruff voice continues.
“You’re under arrest for the trafficking and distribution of heroin and cocaine. You have the right to remain silent…”
I don’t hear the rest. I can’t. My head is too filled with noise and as my vision darkens at the edges, I wonder for a brief moment whether I’m going to faint. There’s another officer approaching, patting Ash down and—and passing off a gun to one of his colleagues.