by Cherrie Lynn
Business that has very unexpectedly turned into pleasure.
“Business.”
“The contract stuff you don’t like to talk about, huh? Sorry.”
He reserved comment and ambled over to the parrot’s cage, which she had rolled into the living room at some point. The bird was perched inside, utterly still and gazing impassively at him. His feathers were jewel green, except for an explosion of yellow around the face. “Demon,” he chirped.
“You know it,” Ash muttered. The almost intelligent, assessing way the bird stared at him was disturbing.
Madeleine emerged from her bedroom a minute later, wearing a slinky black top and jeans that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her hair was a wild, glorious cascade of curls. His mouth began to water. The bird wolf-whistled accordingly. She laughed and spied Ash standing near the cage. “Making friends?”
If he’d quit calling me out, sure, we’d be great friends. Yeah, the parrot’s name was supposed to be Demon, but…looking into those beady little bird eyes, he couldn’t help but wonder. Animals didn’t like his kind as a rule, but thankfully, most animals couldn’t talk.
“Hey,” Madeleine said, approaching him and reaching up to fiddle with the zipper of his leather jacket. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Well, I knew what was up when I brought you here last night, and now I’m pressing for your life history like this is something that… I’ll stop, okay? You just tell me what you want, when you want. If you want.”
He stared down at her, her angelic beauty, the cerulean blue gaze that somehow managed to be shy even as it was direct. She would be—should be—any mortal man’s dream. Yet again he thought of that poor clueless bastard who’d let her go last night. And hurt her tonight. A slow burn of fury slithered through his blood. “The truth is, Madeleine…” She stared expectantly at him, her breath held. “I’m only in town for a couple of weeks.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding vigorously. “I get it.”
“No, it’s…complicated.” He reached up to push a curl from her forehead, allowed his fingertips to linger on the soft, unlined flesh. So vibrant. Now he could feel her roiling emotions. Something had happened to her tonight, and the fear hadn’t left her yet. “But if it’s all right with you,” he continued, “I certainly wouldn’t mind your company while I’m here.”
“It’s all right with me,” she said, but he thought her voice was tinged with the hint of sadness he could feel emanating from her. Or maybe that was only because he was listening for it. “I appreciate your directness. So we’ll just…have fun while you’re here, then?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She smiled. Something broke in his chest. For the first time in his existence, Ash actually entertained the thought of thanking Nicolae. After she smiled at him with such sweetness, such trust, there was no way in Hell he could have taken her tonight, and he would have been in a world of shit as a result.
He might be already. Because he’d begun to wonder if there was any way he could take her at all.
“Well, he can’t dance,” Delia proclaimed a couple hours later, shouting to be heard over the music. “But he’s hot enough to make up for it.”
Madeleine giggled and downed a good portion of her apple martini. Ash had drifted off somewhere, presumably to the men’s room, so they had a moment for a brief huddle as they stood at a table a safe distance from the writhing bodies on the dance floor. “Oh, he’s not that bad.”
“Nah, not that bad. If he’s got the moves to give you the look I saw on your face this morning, there might be hope for him yet.”
“Not that it matters. For me, anyway. He told me tonight he’s leaving in two weeks.”
Delia turned smoky eyes on her. “So?”
“So…so it was said in a way that was sort of…putting me in my place. I mean—no, that sounds harsh. He wasn’t rude at all. But he made it pretty clear this was just a fling, and I’m okay with that.”
The smoky eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not.”
“Well…it’s better than nothing for the next two weeks.”
“So’s a vibrator. Sometimes you need a big dick without having to deal with the bigger dick attached to it.”
“Don’t do that. If I wasn’t in agreement with this situation, all I’d have to do is say so. I just want to have some fun. It’s kind of…freeing, in a way, not to have to worry about trying to land him. He’s going to be gone anyway.”
“Bullshit, Mad. We don’t live in the days of horse-drawn buggies or whatever. We live in the age of online dating and relationships that span fucking continents. Hop a plane and you can be with him in a couple of hours. You keep it going with this guy, and you’ll end up falling hard, daydreaming about weekend getaways to see him and stuff like that. Then he’ll be gone back to his life and you’ll still be brokenhearted.”
Maddie twirled her drink on its thin coaster, feeling the downward pull of the corners of her mouth. She didn’t actually hear Delia sigh, but got the general impression she did. Her friend turned up her beer and watched the crowd for a moment, looking thoughtful. Then she reached over and put a hand on Maddie’s wrist.
“All right, look. I don’t mean to rain on your parade.”
Maddie shook her head. “No, if you weren’t exactly right, then I wouldn’t be upset.”
“I don’t want to be right,” Delia said. “And yes, I was cheering for the guy this morning, but I don’t like him making an arrangement with you where he gets his jollies for a couple of weeks and you’re left picking up the pieces again after he’s gone. I want you to get whatever you want out of this deal. But I see the little wheels spinning already, and I’m afraid what you’ll end up wanting is white picket fences. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just that you keep looking for them in the slums.”
“David wasn’t necessarily the—”
“David was the crown emperor of the slums.”
Maddie laughed. “So what you’re saying is you think I have zero chance of making Ash fall madly in love with me in two weeks?” She allowed a sly little grin as she asked it.
Delia pointed two fingers at her. “A-ha. Caught ya.” Maddie shoved her playfully, and her friend went on. “He’d be a fool not to, sweetie. I know that, and you know that…”
“Right. Here he comes.”
Madeleine wished the smile she plastered on her face as he rejoined them wasn’t so fake. She’d been in such a fabulous mood earlier, thinking of spending the night with him, but the whole thing about him being here temporarily had put a damper on her elation. She wished she could forget it and live for the moment, which had been her spectacular plan last night when she’d met him. And now she’d gone and let herself get caught up again, over the course of only one day. How bad would it be if she saw him over the next two weeks?
Maybe she really was grieving for David and was sort of projecting all of that anguish onto Ash somehow. Because he was here to project it onto. Maybe that was the kind of fucked-up psychological thing that happened when you got bounced from one guy’s bed, only to bounce another guy into yours with no downtime in between.
See, if you had a therapist you could ask her these things.
Delia kept up a stream of chatter and witticisms with Ash despite the unsavory nature of her and Maddie’s prior conversation about him. Bless her. But the flashing lights and pulsing music were beginning to wear on Maddie’s nerves, and before long she and Ash were saying good night. Delia hugged her and slinked her way back onto the dance floor.
Outside, the air was cool and fresh, and Maddie breathed it deep to clear out all the mingling scents of cologne, perfume and sweat from her nostrils. Because she hadn’t been sure about how much they would have to drink, they’d taken a cab to the club. But Ash seemed content to stroll along the sidewalk with her, their fingers interlaced.
“Did you have fun?” she asked finally, when the silence had stretched out for far too long. But ag
ain, like last night, she was struck by how it wasn’t awkward at all, it just…was.
“This is more fun. You. Me. Relative silence.”
“I agree. I did need to get out for a little while, though. My ex didn’t care for the club scene—well, he didn’t like Delia at all. I never told her that, though.”
“He doesn’t like much of anything.”
She looked over at him. “Huh?”
Ash shrugged. “Just the general impression I got. He’s a miserable person overall. He has no idea what he really wants.”
Wow. Ash had just very astutely nailed an aspect of David’s personality it had taken her months to figure out, and he’d only spoken a handful of words to him. Then again, she often felt the same way about herself: miserable, uncertain. Maybe the same qualities hadn’t stood out so much in David because one miserable person could be fairly comfortable with another one. Until they started to drag each other even further down.
“I should’ve done more with my life,” she grumbled. How that thought factored in to their current conversation, she didn’t really know—only that it often occurred to her when she was feeling down.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, gone to college or something. I didn’t do well in school. Not that I’m dumb or anything. I was lazy. I didn’t see much point in it at the time. There was too much chaos in my life on top of everything. I got into some trouble, but I managed to not go down that same path as my mom.”
He walked along beside her, gaze downcast. She’d have thought she was boring him, but the slight furrow of his brow made her think he was actually listening intently.
“I know it’s never too late,” she went on. “But it sure seems like it is. Everything is so…dead end.”
“What do you wish you’d done differently? I mean, what would you like to be?”
“I want to help people,” she said. “I don’t know how, though. It’s a moot point anyway—I’ve never even been able to help myself. I keep myself afloat and that’s about all I can manage. But I’d love to…I don’t know, be involved with something bigger than myself. I feel like I missed a calling somewhere along the road.”
“Hmm,” he said, and she laughed.
“I guess you’re thinking I don’t know what the hell I want, either.”
“No, not at all. I was just thinking…it makes sense you’d want to help people.”
“Really? Why is that?”
“Seems to be your nature.”
“Yet again, I get the uncanny feeling you know me somehow.”
He didn’t reply beyond a curious little smile that barely tilted up the corners of his mouth.
God, Delia was so right, as much as Maddie wanted to deny it. She wanted to keep telling herself she was a big girl and she could handle it. She could, she knew—but this would only inflict undue heartache on her. It was dangerous to keep assigning these romantic notions to anything he said.
Sighing, she cast a quick glance around at their surroundings. The buildings had gradually turned more and more decrepit as they walked, some of them adorned with elaborate graffiti, dotted with dark, cracked windows. She imagined hidden eyes watching from inside them. The street here was eerily empty. “Hey, I didn’t notice how far we’d come. We’d better head back. This isn’t the best neighborhood.”
“As long as you’re with me, you don’t have to worry about it.”
“Cocky, aren’t we?”
He chuckled, turning them both and picking up her hand again. “All right. We’ll head back.”
They hadn’t made it twenty feet when her worst nightmare materialized in front of them. Well, one of her worst nightmares, anyway—there were so many. But this one wasn’t a ghostly figure; it was a very solid, very real human form that stepped from the alley they were approaching, holding a gun at the end of its outstretched arm.
His face was gaunt, pale, and even from here, she could see he was missing most of his front teeth. Oh, crap. Most likely a meth head, and they were about to provide funds for tonight’s fix. Or die. Or both. Her entire body froze up, and she clutched Ash’s arm, unable to look away from the gleaming weapon.
“Gimme your wallet, man. And the bitch’s purse.”
Her heart was about to explode. She didn’t think Ash had tensed up at all. “Out of our way,” he said, his voice damn near a growl, “before I waste you.”
Was he insane? “Ash,” she hissed. “Just give him what he wants—” She made a move to toss over her clutch, but Ash caught her wrist before she could.
“You better listen to your bitch, dude.” He brandished his gun. For the first time, Maddie noticed the tremors racking him. “I ain’t playin’.”
“I ain’t either, dude. Call her a bitch again and I’ll turn you into mine.” She watched Ash in utter disbelief. He was entirely focused on their assailant, and something burning in his eyes was…scaring her. It scared the guy too. He took a step back. “That’s right,” Ash went on. Very slowly, he was distancing himself from Maddie and, though her instinct was to hang on to him, she stayed put. “Back away now. Those shakes are rough, aren’t they? You couldn’t hit one of us if you tried.” He scoffed. “In fact you probably can’t even afford bullets.”
Oh God, he was only agitating him, and he was doing it on purpose, as if he got some kind of sick thrill out of it.
The gun rose to point straight at Ash’s nose. “Keep talkin’, man, and I’ll show you a bullet up close and personal. I ain’t telling you again. Gimme the money.”
Ash didn’t even flinch. He walked closer. “However much it is, it won’t be enough. You know it. You have a beast inside you, and you’ll never be able to feed it enough for it to stop eating you alive.”
The gun shook violently. If Ash wanted, he could grab it. But he didn’t. “What the fuck’s wrong with you, man?” the guy asked, his voice wavering on the edge of desperation now.
“Walk away.”
“I need it—”
“Walk away. Fire that gun, and I’ll fuck you up.”
Fire that gun and you’ll be dead! Madeleine shrieked on the inside. She couldn’t even make sense of what she was seeing. Except for one thing. Blind, senseless rage was filling the man’s eyes now, and she saw the instant he passed the point of no return, knew instinctively it signaled imminent disaster. It was the same look she’d always seen on her mother before she felt her hand whack her across the face, only ten times deadlier. Her heart stuttered and nearly stopped.
“Fuck you!” The gun went off, the bang and ensuing echo deafening as it bounced off the buildings surrounding them. Madeleine screamed and ducked, her hands over her ears. Despite all his brave words. there was no way that shot had missed Ash, oh God—
She glanced up to the sound of scuffling feet. Ash wasn’t lying on the ground like he should be. He’d grabbed the man and slammed him against the brick wall nearby, holding him with only his palm against the man’s chest. The gun was on the ground. The guy was screaming as if he’d taken the shot, but Maddie didn’t see any blood. All she saw was Ash’s fingers digging hard into his chest. Then the mugger collapsed, falling to the ground in a lifeless heap.
“What did you do?” Maddie cried. Her heart thundered as loud as the gunshot, and her knees would hardly support her weight.
“Nothing. He’s unconscious. Let’s get out of here.”
“Are you hurt?”
He grabbed her hand and propelled her down the sidewalk. She staggered, managed to catch her footing. “Not a scratch,” he said.
“But we need to report this, we need to wait for the police—”
“No harm done. We’re fine, he’s fine.”
“He doesn’t look fine!”
“He is.”
“What did you do to him?”
“A little technique I learned.”
“What, the five-point-fucking-palm-exploding-heart technique?”
They cut through an alley to a parallel street, and another and another,
weaving around Dumpsters and debris until Maddie’s breath wheezed through her lungs. Ash’s hand pulling hers was all that was keeping her up, keeping her going. She remained silent as he hailed a cab and shoved her inside first with a hand on her ass.
What had just happened? She couldn’t speak, still numb from shock, as Ash gave the driver her address and settled back in his seat. He turned his dark gaze on her and reached up to stroke her hair. Her eyes closed. Tears threatened, and she didn’t want them. She wanted to hold it together.
“Okay?” he asked.
She managed a nod, her fingers clenched so tightly around the purse in her lap they ached. He noticed, gently extricated it from her grip, and gave her his hand to hold on to with her death grip.
He wasn’t affected by this at all. He wasn’t trembling, wasn’t even breathing heavy. His gaze on her was steady, assessing. She looked at him, watched the lights from the street pass across his face.
He’d saved her life. Even if the bullet had missed them both, he’d placed himself between her and that gun. He could be dead right now, and that guy needed to be behind bars for it. If their mugger was really okay, why wasn’t Ash eager to let the police handle the matter?
But he hadn’t done anything that she’d seen. The mugger hadn’t been bleeding. So how could he be dead by a simple hand against his chest? She saw again in her mind the way he’d fallen, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. No strength in his limbs whatsoever.
Ash pulled closer to her, putting his mouth barely an inch from her ear and murmuring, “Madeleine, it’s okay. I promise. You’re safe now.”
She took a deep breath. The black sparkles that had been filling her vision began to recede somewhat. His touch skimmed over her shoulder, behind her neck, until he was embracing her. Then, with his comforting warmth around her and his hands so gentle on her, she nearly lost it. Her fingers clenched in his shirt, fisting it until she thought she’d rip the fabric.