Wicked Sinner

by Stacey Kennedy

  Just as she reached the metal steps that led to her loft, a firm grip grabbed her arm. She whirled around, her fist clenching, when suddenly a different Asher stared at her now. One torn apart with guilt.

  “I know that I fucked up and hurt you.” His voice blistered. “And I know you have every right to hate me.” He slowly released his hold, obviously realizing she wasn’t going to run. “But you don’t have to face all this alone. Let me help you through this.”

  “Why should I?” she asked, desperately wanting to know.

  “To mend this between us. Don’t you think it’s time for that?” He drew in a long, deep breath before addressing her again. “I’ve made mistakes. Big mistakes, I know that. But I’m not that fucked-up kid who left you all those years ago. We were good friends once, Remy. I want that again.” Intensity flared in his gaze. “No, I need that. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed the laughs and the fun we had together. Don’t you?” She felt the ground drop out from under her as he went on. “I know there will always be a part of you that can never forgive me. I accept that and can live with it. But I’m done sitting back quietly and pretending that I don’t miss having you in my life.”

  There were a thousand things to say or do in this moment, but all she could do was burst into tears and yell at him, “I’m just so fucking angry. I’m angry at you for leaving me. I’m angry at Damon…Kyle, whoever the fuck he is. I’m angry that the life I thought I was going to have—the marriage, the family, my shop…it’s all gone. And I’m angry that every time a man offers me the world, he takes it away just like that.” She snapped her fingers.

  “You should be angry,” he said softly, pain etched into his features. “You deserve better.”

  For years there were things she wanted to say but never did. Now that she had her chance, she couldn’t quite stop herself. “After you left, everything, and I mean everything, fell apart for me. Nana died. College was no longer a reality since I needed to support myself. I needed you so bad, and you weren’t here.”

  He visibly swallowed. “I know.”

  She stopped short, not expecting him to take all the blame. He didn’t give an excuse or explain it, just accepted his blame in hurting her. It made her remember the Asher she once loved deeply. “I don’t know if I can be your friend.”

  He glanced down for a moment, then looked up, and in that one second, she saw his desperation that he hid well. “We were very good at that once.”

  They were, she knew that. No one made her laugh like Asher. No one made her feel as alive as Asher had. In that empty hollowness of her chest, a part of her wanted to feel a little piece of that again. “One chance to be friends, Asher. That’s it. Mess this up, and we’re done. Forever.”

  “I understand what’s on the line here.”

  She caught the darkness in Asher’s eyes that had never been there when she was with him before, and she knew, she hadn’t been the only one who suffered in the past. Asher had his pain too. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to heal what was broken. “If you really want to help me, I know one thing you can do.”

  “Name it.”

  “Erase that fucker from my life.”

  Asher gave a tight smile. “My pleasure.”

  * * *

  Three hours had ticked by since Remy coldcocked Damon. Since Asher couldn’t physically erase Damon from Remy’s life, he did the second-best thing. He packed up Damon’s belongings in her loft. Worried that if he didn’t, she might set her apartment on fire and then retreat under her bed fort. He shoved the final box into the back of his truck to take to Goodwill. It dawned on him then that the last time he was with Remy and packing boxes away, it was when he left her for Washington. Pain clawed at the back of his throat, and even wearing only a T-shirt in the cool autumn weather, his skin felt flushed. Had he been a better man, she wouldn’t be hurting right now, but he was done living in the past. His chest felt lighter than it had in years. The last thing Remy wanted from him now was marriage, and she wasn’t looking at him as the man who’d failed to make those dreams comes true. He could earn her friendship back, help her discover new dreams, and he’d finally free himself from the crushing guilt for destroying her life. Now all he had to do was not screw it up. And not fall back in love with her.

  “Is Remy okay?”

  Asher glanced over his shoulder, finding eight middle-aged women holding plastic containers filled with food. They weren’t strangers. Asher and Remy had grown up with some of their sons and daughters. And now that many of the millennials in Stoney Creek moved away wanting the taste of the big city, those that stayed became second children to the moms in town. “She’s doing much better,” he told them with a smile. “I see you’ve been cooking.”

  MaryJane Abbott, the leader of the bunch, and the one who knew just about everything about everyone, said, “We’ve got two weeks of meals here for her.” She had a head full of purple curls, bright red lipstick covering her thin lips, and deep laugh lines. “All she needs to do is freeze them, then heat ’em up in the oven when she’s ready to eat.”

  “That’s so very generous of you, ladies.” Asher held out his hands. “I can take those up for you.” The last thing Remy needed was a group of women in her loft pitying her, no matter how kind they were.

  “Oh, you’ll take them up to her, hmm,” said MaryJane, her bright blue eyes twinkling. She shared a look with the other ladies around her.

  Great. He had no doubt he’d just joined the gossip train.

  “Yes, yes.” MaryJane shoved the containers at him, then handed him three plastic bags full of more containers. “You’re exactly who should bring these to her.” She grinned from ear to ear, nudging him forward. “Please let Remy know we’re all thinking about her. Damon is just horrible. A terrible human being.”

  Asher nodded, not disagreeing with her. “Enjoy your day, ladies, and again, thank you for taking care of Remy.” He left the giggling women behind and strode with purpose toward the stairs at the back of the building. If he hung around any longer, he’d get cornered and questioned.

  On his way up the creaky metal stairs, he spotted the back doors to Kinsley’s bar, Whiskey Blues, and Peyton’s lingerie shop, Uptown Girl. They were both working today, and Asher figured a drink at the bar later sounded like a perfect end to the day.

  When he finally made it up the stairs and reentered Remy’s loft, he got a waft of a spicy scent mixed with something pungent that he couldn’t identify. All very typical smells coming from Remy’s kitchen. Back in the day, her nana had been a sweetheart, and she always had some concoction she was teaching to Remy. There was never a time when Asher came over that they weren’t either praying to Mother Earth, or creating some kind of tea, cream, or drink to fix people’s problems. Asher had many regrets, but right up there with breaking Remy’s heart was leaving Stoney Creek without telling Nana goodbye. He’d just…left. Not letting that regret drown him, he shut the door behind him, then kicked of his boots, hearing Remy’s voice as he got closer. The galley kitchen was tiny and set underneath her bedroom loft above, with the living room furnished with gray couches leading to floor-to-ceiling windows, letting in natural light. On the live edge countertop were small glass containers spread out all over the counter filled with herbs and liquids. Sitting next to her on the counter was Nana’s book of spells, which basically was an old scrapbook with dark brown paper and a leather case. Asher never believed in the New Age magic Remy and her nana did, but over the years, he’d grown to miss Remy’s quirky ways. She could fix everything, or so she believed, and he liked that nurturing side of her.

  She stood at the stove with a phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder, using a big wooden spoon to stir something that had a slightly nutty aroma. Her kitchen was a disaster, but at least she wasn’t setting anything on fire. Salem sat at his food bowl, enjoying his fresh cooked chicken. “Yes, Mom, I’m fine.” Remy paused, obviously listening to her mother talk. “Well, if I knew he was a money-hungry prick, then I wou
ldn’t have dated him.” Another pause and then Remy’s voice tightened. “Yes, Mom, my inheritance is safe. Please stop worrying, I’m okay. Sure, I’m a bit sad and angry, but I’ll be fine.” She added a spice to the pot and kept stirring. “Yup. Yup. Perfect. Love you too. Bye.” She ended the call, then without turning around, Remy said, “She’s worried about me, apparently.”

  “Understandably so,” Asher replied, setting the containers and bags on the kitchen table. “Is she coming to visit?”

  Remy snorted and glanced into the pot. “Yeah, right. That would involve thinking of anyone but herself.”

  That was something her mother, Joni, never did. The only unselfish thing she’d ever done was leave Remy with her nana when she decided to hit the road with her band. And even that hadn’t been entirely unselfish. “Where is she playing now?” he asked.

  “Nashville,” Remy said, tension in her voice. “She invited me to come travel with her for a while, but where’s that going to get me? Further from where I already want to be.”

  A shop owner was what she didn’t need to say. “You’ll find a way to make the shop happen,” he said.

  “Oh, I know.” Her shoulders lifted and fell with her heavy breath as she continued to stir the pot. “I’ll just go back and bartend at Kinsley’s and keep saving. It’ll happen, one day.”

  Asher’s gaze fell to the way her ass wiggled a little with every stir of the pot. She’d never had this body when he’d dated her. A woman’s body. He ached to take a nibble out of that ass. Hot and hard now, he forced his gaze up to the soft strands of her hair, and when Remy still didn’t look back, focused on whatever she was making, he said, “The gossip train brought you dinners for the next two weeks.”

  Remy piped up then, glancing over her shoulder, gaze scanning the items. “Really?”

  He nodded. “They’re worried about you too.”

  “Or they’re just nosy and this was a good way for them to get the deets on my life.” She glanced over each container, her expression warming immensely. “Still, that’s incredibly kind of them. I’ll make sure to send thank-you notes. Do you mind shoving it all in the freezer for me? I’ve got to keep an eye on this.”

  Asher grabbed the containers again, and on his way to the fridge, he strode by Salem, who hissed, fur sticking straight up. “I can’t believe he still hates me,” Asher said, glaring back at the cat.

  “He doesn’t hate you,” Remy countered. “He just doesn’t trust you. Two very different things.”

  Probably much like Remy felt about him. Asher began putting away the containers in the freezer and decided to leave that subject alone. “What are you making, anyway? It smells…interesting.”

  “I’ve been thinking about what to do all day, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I must be cursed.” She poured a small vial of something into the pot on the stove. “So, I’m going to break the curse.”

  “You’re not cursed.” He adjusted a few containers, the cold air brushing across his face. “Want to leave the lasagna out for tonight?”

  “Yeah, sounds yummy.” She paused, then went on. “And as for the not being cursed, you can’t have an opinion because you broke my heart once.”

  “That’s fair,” he said, shutting the freezer door and turning back to her. “But you can’t possibly think that potion you’re making is actually going to help.”

  She slowly turned around, a wooden spoon in her hand. “Asher Sullivan, take that back right now.”

  He didn’t really believe in this voodoo shit the way she did. But he respected that Remy believed in it. And he’d seen some of her teas do remarkable things for colds, but a curse? “I take it back,” he said.

  “You bet your ass you do!” She waved the spoon at him. “You, for one, should know how much my stuff helps. You’ve seen it.” She reached for another vial and dumped in some herbs.

  He took in the swelling on her knuckles. “You need to keep icing your hand,” he said.

  “Ice is a terrible thing, and I only did that to make you all shut up about it back at the station. I put a salve on it and it will be just fine.” She finished stirring, turned down the stove, then came over to the kitchen table and sat down, opening up the wooden box on top. She took out crystals, placing them near a small candle, which she then lit. She shut her eyes, exhaled deeply, then reached for her tarot cards wrapped in silk.

  Asher watched the ritual she’d done a thousand times before. Some women followed their instincts. Others talked to their friends and sought advice. Remy used tarot cards to decide her fate.

  Asher smiled, moving to the kitchen table to sit across from her. “What’s the question today?” he asked.

  “Oh, this and that,” Remy said, shuffling the cards.

  Salem jumped up on the table and lay down next to Remy. Asher couldn’t be sure, but he’d bet the cat was glaring at him.

  Remy went quiet and began shuffling the cards, her eyes fluttering shut. When she opened them again, she began laying out the cards—three side by side, then a card on top and on the bottom of the middle card. He’d never believed in psychics, but Remy was definitely intuitive, as was her nana. He’d never admit it aloud, but there were more times that Remy’s tarot cards were right than wrong.

  “Hmm,” she said, frowning down at the cards. “Is that so?” Her gaze lifted to his and she gave him a measured look. “See.” She pointed at the card. “Totally cursed.”

  He glanced down at the cards, finding what appeared to be a grim reaper, before arching an eyebrow at her. “Remy, I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

  “An epic disaster, that’s what.” She picked up the cards again and then passed them all through the flame, doing what Asher knew to mean she was cleansing her deck. In no time, she packed her things away and then rose. “I need to get this curse off me.”

  “Okay, who do you think cursed you?”

  She moved toward the kitchen cabinet. “If I knew that, then I’d deal with them, but since I don’t, this will have to do.” She grabbed two scotch glasses and used a ladle to pour dark liquid into each glass.

  He knew where she was going with this before she even handed him a glass. “I’m not drinking that,” he told her seriously.

  “Yeah, you are.” She set the drink down in front of him.

  “Care to enlighten me on why I would do that?”

  “Because as much as you don’t believe in all this, you have also been cursed.” He frowned as she nudged his glass closer to him. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m not wrong. Are you happy with all aspects of your life?”

  He stared into the depths of her eyes, finding the answer all too easy. “No, I’m not entirely happy with every aspect.”

  “See.” She picked up her glass to cheers him. “Also cursed. Bottoms up.”

  Against his better judgment, and to do and be whatever Remy needed him to be, he grabbed the glass and clanged hers, then he drank the shot back. And coughed like hell.

  She wheezed, “I know, curse breakers taste terrible.”

  Chapter 5

  Remy’s laughter filled the air as she danced her way back into the living room after grabbing herself another glass of her potion. An hour had gone by since they’d cheers their drinks, and they’d already had one more of Remy’s concoction that apparently was similar to homemade moonshine. Born from an alcoholic father, and ensuring not to become him, Asher had a two-drink rule that he never broke. But whatever she put in that drink was the strongest alcohol he’d ever tasted. While Asher knew without a single doubt in his mind that he was the closest he’d been to drunk ever in his life, Remy was most definitely drunk. With the help of the homemade booze that Asher suspected her nana created to explain away getting loaded whenever things got bad, Remy had opened up, reminding Asher of the Remy he once knew. They’d talked about everything over the last hour, almost like they were the same people who once loved each other. Laughed like they used to. And then everything changed, becoming flirty and sensual, jus
t like old times, and Asher knew he was in trouble. He remembered the heat, the passion, and he wanted to taste that again.

  Now he couldn’t take his eyes off the way Remy swirled her hips to the Queen song playing through the speakers. Her arms were in the air lifting her shirt just enough to show the creaminess of her skin. He felt the warm hum of the alcohol running through his veins, alongside the desire driving him wild. “You should come sit down,” he told her, noting her glass coffee table was a disaster waiting to happen.

  She spun in a little circle and then gave him a smile of pure unadulterated sex. “It always did make you hot watching me dance, didn’t it?” she practically purred.

  “You were always a very good dancer.” She’d taken years of dance growing up and she was the type of person who danced freely, loving music. He rose, offering his hand. “Come sit. That shit you made us is guaranteed to make you fall on that table.”

  “It’s got Devil Springs vodka and Sunset rum.” She rolled her hips, her eyes darkened with lust. “Apparently, I put in a little too much.” Her lips parted as she caressed her hands slowly down her body. “How about now? Am I still a good dancer?”

  He watched the slide of her hands until they moved into her hair and she flicked the gorgeous strands teasingly. Feeling tense, and hot, so damn hot, he cleared his throat. “You know you’re incredible at most things you do.”

  She smiled playfully back. “You’re right, I do.” Cocking her head just enough to let her hair fall beautifully across her cheek, she nibbled her lip.

  Jesus Christ.

  “We both need coffee.” Hot and growing harder as the seconds passed, he nearly tripped over Salem, who again hissed at him and then ran away as Asher took a step toward the kitchen.

  “I know exactly what I need.” She suddenly leaped into his arms. He stumbled back before quickly righting himself and held her tight. “And it ain’t coffee.” Then her lips crushed again his.

  For a second—the tiniest little second—he nearly broke away. Until she gave a soft moan. Every touch and every second of pleasure filled his mind again, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed kissing her until her tongue dipped into his mouth. With an arm around her waist, keeping her close, he took control of the kiss. He fisted his other hand in her hair and spun her around until her back pressed against the wall. She moaned and he devoured every sound she made with his kiss.