“Okay,” I said slowly, hesitating while looking down at my naked body, worried that Asher grossly misunderstood kids. “I have to get dressed. My bag is by the side door where I dropped it when I rushed in. And you should probably let Sienna, I mean Lila, know you’re alive.”
“I’ll shoot her a text after I get your bag.” And then he was gone, rushing down the stairs.
Deciding to take my time getting dressed, I stalled in the bathroom, fixing my hair. As I was making sure my makeup was perfect, I heard Asher on the phone, barking at Mike, making arrangements for the club and our travel, saying we would all be back in two to three days.
I stepped out of the master bath and caught the tail end of their conversation.
“Tell Petey I’ll get to him when I’m good and ready. And yes, I’ll bring Lynx back, you can be sure of that. No, I don’t care about that prick right now. I’m more concerned about not becoming like my father than making nice with him.”
Asher was sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over his knees as he spoke on the phone, but he looked up when I came back into the room, his focus bearing down on me as he said the last sentence.
I couldn’t hear Mike’s response on the other end, but he didn’t have time to say much because Ash stood and said, “I gotta go. We’re heading to the airport. See you in seventy-two,” before disconnecting.
Turning to me he said, “Ready, little doll? Just leave that bag here. We’ll be back soon enough, and you have crap down in Florida. Shit—we’ll have to get it all packed up and moved back to Vegas.”
He was back down the stairs before I could answer.
“Uh, Ash, I have a job in Florida. I can’t up and leave. Quinn has made some friends,” I said as he started to put the house alarm on.
Not even faltering for one second, he grabbed my hand and walked into the garage, opening the door to the SUV as he said, “If you think you’re working one more second in that two-star, sorry excuse for a club, you don’t know me, Nat. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
Oh, I knew he would. I sort of asked for that when I up and left for Florida. Whether I was dating Asher or not, he wasn’t going to stand for one of his girls moving on to a shithole like the Peppermint Kitty.
“Well, what about your dad?” I asked as we pulled out of the garage.
“He can wait.” Asher flipped on his shades, and off we went for him to meet his family.
She Did It, He Did It
Mike
“LYNX, PLEASE call me back. Look, I know I’ve been unreasonable. It wasn’t fair, but you have to call me. Please. Natalie is on her way back down with Asher, and there’s something else you need to know. Call me. I need to hear your voice. Please, baby.”
As I slid into my personal sauna, I was desperate to hear more than her voice mail message, just a few syllables of her voice, a hello, how are you? Even a fuck you. Anything. My whole body ached with a need to connect with Lynx. Sitting in the small tiled steam room, letting the last few weeks of alcohol sweat out of my pores, I wrung my palms and racked my brain. Physically and emotionally, I was a wet noodle.
Why couldn’t I be more like Carson? He knew better than to ask Lila to stop dancing as Sienna, letting her decide on her own, which she did.
Who was I to think I could even begin to understand Lynx’s burden to put herself through school? I was a trust fund kid playing dress-up as a Vegas hoodlum. My dad owned half the fucking Strip.
We might have parted ways—my parents and me—but I had more cash than I knew what to do with in the bank. More than I let on to anyone except Asher. And Rochelle, but a lot of good that did me. She decided if I had that much, why not dip into the source, who had even more.
Stepping out of the heat, drops of sweat dripping down my body, littering the floor as I waited for the cold water to fill the shower to cool both my body and temper, I bore a hole in my own face in the mirror. Looking deep into my hardened green eyes, I told myself to get over it. I wasn’t meant to be in a relationship. Take my own parents as an example—they were a screwed-up mess. Who would believe I would escape that unscathed.
Yeah, I could send Lynx to a million schools if she wanted, but I wanted her to want me, to make decisions for her and me, like quitting the escort business, before I told her how much I was worth. Leaning back into the chilled marble shower, I realized I was being about as stubborn as she was.
God, I hoped Asher was able to get her to come back with them.
Ten-Year Reunion
Natalie
Miami
ASHER HELD my hand the whole flight, his lips grazing my neck, sucking on my earlobe, kissing his way up and down, making way for the words he was whispering. “Love you, Nat. Feels so good to fucking say it out loud.”
I was somewhat relieved we flew commercial for fear of what the man would have done up in the friendly skies if we weren’t surrounded by a bunch of other people.
My nerves were on edge, little shockwaves of fear running up and down my spine like a volcano about to erupt, small sparks of lava flitting up and down its core. Grabbing one of those small airplane bottles of wine from the attendant did little to help, but it was about as much relief as I was going to get.
Asher was the picture of contentment. I felt a giggle bubble up in my throat over how ridiculous this brand of excitement looked on the man sitting next to me in motorcycle boots, frayed jeans, a five-hundred-dollar Dior shirt, his hair a rumpled, sexy bed head of unruly blond curls.
I said, “Shhh. Stop, Ash. My thoughts are going as fast as this airplane. We can’t just barge in on Quinn and drop the bomb.”
He held his head up and said, “Okay. Don’t worry, Nat. It’s all gonna work out. How about I go pay a visit to your boss while you have a quick heart-to-heart with Quinn?”
Lifting my fist in the tight quarters of the first-class cabin, I punched him in the brick wall known as his bicep. “Don’t you think I should handle both? You could go to your house and relax for a while until I’m ready for you.”
Asher ducked in close and whispered in my ear, “Nope. Nat, you’re not getting away with that coy shit. I’m taking matters in my own hands, doll. Gonna talk to the idiot who runs the shithole you’re working at, and then be back to meet my son.”
My stomach dropped at the thought of what he would say to my boss—especially when he heard about the collar incident—but it was the lesser of two evils. I cared about Quinn, not my employer. I placed my hand on top of his and squeezed.
“Ash, I don’t know how to say this, but…”
He turned to face me while holding my hand in a death grip, and in a low voice I gave him the short details on the other night.
As expected, it didn’t go well, and for the second time during our flight, I was glad to be sequestered on a tight flight with lots of people. Otherwise, I was positive it wouldn’t have been pretty.
“Uh, Ash, I can’t feel my hand. Loosen up. It’s all going to be okay. I’m quitting. You don’t need to go nuts, okay?”
He lifted his hands behind his neck, shaking his neck back and forth as he let the tension bleed from him, then settled me in the crook of his shoulder and kissed me on top of my head. “Yeah, yeah. I know, but I’m still going to have a little heart-to-heart with your soon-to-be ex-boss man.”
Closing my eyes, I knew there was no sense in responding. He wasn’t going to listen, so I tried to get some rest. Unsuccessfully.
BACK AT my tiny, yet tidy, apartment, Quinn sat on the sofa, his mouth wide open, fist pumping the air. “I have a dad!” he yelled as he jumped up from the couch. Lynx high-fived him. I sat and watched the whole celebration unravel before my eyes like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
The two of them were a kaleidoscope of color as they whirled around the bland beige living area, chanting, cheering, and whooping. I, on the other hand, was stuck to my kitchen stool as though there was superglue between my butt and the vinyl. Part of me ached for Quinn to actually be mad at me fo
r what I did—because it was wrong, and would probably haunt my every waking hour for as long as I lived. But he was such a good kid, he wouldn’t.
Now, the boy I had raised from day one all on my own was about to meet his dad, who was apparently the cat’s meow without anything to even base it on, and I was jealous of Asher and felt murderous at myself. None of it had to be this way.
I started to dream up a reason to pick a fight with Lynx. After all, what the fuck was she even doing here, taking part in this reunion? I couldn’t do that, though; she was just a young girl who had stuck her neck out for me.
“I got a dad, oh yeah! He’s gonna be so cool and teach me stuff and do stuff with me!” Quinn kept singing to the girl.
My head bobbed and my foot tapped to his enthusiasm, but my heart kept plummeting through my chest like I was on the death drop at the fair, over and over again.
I hurt my son. For close to a decade.
The bright royal blue of Quinn’s T-shirt slid past me as he mimicked a touchdown dance he saw a football player do on TV. A zigzag-printed maxi-dress was not far behind, copying the ridiculous shimmy. Setting my head into my hand, I closed my eyes, keeping the tears from falling. I couldn’t help but think about the few days in the hospital when my son was born—and I was alone…
MY MOM had been with me during the delivery. God, the pain had been unbearable at times. I was still nineteen, just like the night I had gotten knocked up, and I’d been unable to control my emotions. Tears had flowed freely, wetting my hospital gown, soaking it. As my mom held my hand, I had cursed at anyone I could think of, but her. She was there, after all. It was the least I could do.
I thought of my dad, who had been gone for a while, and part of me was relieved because he would have been so disappointed to see me throw it all away on becoming a single mom. The other half of me was sad that he wasn’t around to meet his grandchild. He wouldn’t have stayed mad forever.
Mom hadn’t been thrilled when I told her I was pregnant, but she’d never been a fan of parents abandoning their kids, so she had stuck by me. As she took me to appointments and helped me pick supplies, she had known all along who the father was. She would say, “Nat, you’re not fooling me. There’s only one guy who could have gotten you pregnant and you would keep the baby. I’m not dumb, and I know exactly who you’re protecting.”
Her thoughts were confirmed as soon as the nurses cleaned up my little blond-haired baby boy, wrapped him in a blanket, and handed him to me. I had always been a brunette. Mom too.
Dad, also had dark hair. I guess there was a recessive gene somewhere in me, but this blond was so pure, a dead giveaway to the other person who created him—even at one day old.
It had to be the fair-haired bad boy from next door, the one I had always loved, and my mom knew it. I tried to deny it, to fight against it, up until the day my water broke.
When the pain finally stopped and my son was placed on my chest, my momma smoothed her hand along my brow and said, “It’s water under the bridge now, Nat, honey. You got a baby boy. A beautiful, healthy one, and now it doesn’t matter who planted him inside you. He’s yours and yours alone. Keep it that way.”
I let the fight go.
Dazed from giving birth, I wasn’t sure if she meant I shouldn’t tell Asher, or if he didn’t deserve to know. I only knew I had a son, and he’d been born out of the most unconventional scenarios—meaning I needed to do what a mom did. Take care of him.
The little fair-headed bundle smelled so good, was so innocent and helpless, and when he finally opened his pale blue eyes—they hadn’t turned silver yet—and looked at me, my whole heart jumped and leaped to belong to him.
Because I was just a teen at the time, my doctor pulled a few strings to snag me an extra day in the hospital. Having an additional twenty-four hours for me to rest and the nurses to help show me what to do with an infant was a godsend, because my mom had to get back to work and caring for my grampa.
I didn’t know the first thing about babies, so I was eternally grateful for anything and everything extra to help me out.
I was most appreciative of the time to rest, and I used every minute Quinn was in the nursery to stock up on some Zs. If I knew one thing, it was that I wouldn’t be getting much of that when I arrived home. It was during my second day in the small hospital room when I finally got around to showering and cleaning up.
Bending over to check my phone, I saw a tiny gift box on my nightstand. Right away, I had opened it and found the most beautiful charm dangling from a chain. It was a four-fingered hand made of glass, blue like the ocean, deep as the night sky, inviting like a warm pool sparkling in the midnight moon. I had no clue what it stood for or who had brought it, but I put it on, figuring it had been from the hospital nun.
And who didn’t need good luck?
REACHING FOR my hamsa as I always did these days when stressed, I froze when I realized it wasn’t around my neck. Apparently I hadn’t put it back on after I went to retrieve it from Asher’s that awful day. Shaking my head at the little party going on in my apartment, I decided this was the perfect excuse to take both myself and my rampant thoughts back to my bedroom to look for it.
Just as I found my lucky charm in the bottom of my underwear drawer, I heard the front door open.
I barely made it to the archway where the hallway to the bedrooms met the living space when I heard, “Are you my dad?”
Watching Lynx slip outside, closing the door behind her, I wanted to call to her, pull my friend close, steal her strength. Instead I leaned against the threshold, then watched and listened like a voyeur in a strip club, afraid to move, knowing all too well I wasn’t allowed to touch.
“Yeah, I am,” Asher answered, standing stiffly in the foyer.
“Wow. My dad.”
The two stood stock-still taking each other in, digesting the person in front of them.
“You are some little man. I’m already so proud to call you my son,” Asher said without moving a centimeter other than nervously tugging at his own unruly hair, the same messy mane as the small child in front of him.
“I didn’t think I would ever have a dad.”
Quinn hadn’t moved a muscle. I couldn’t even say for sure if he was blinking.
“Fuck.” Asher tugged his hair harder and pulled his head back, exposing his neck and beating pulse. “Oh Christ, I guess I shouldn’t have said the F-word, buddy,” he said, snapping his head back up.
“It’s okay, I know it. Mom says it sometimes too. By accident, she claims. And Christ. She doesn’t let me say that either.”
The man slid to the floor in front of the boy.
Witnessing Asher bend down on his knees and get close to Quinn brought a lump to my throat, one I couldn’t clear. It clogged my windpipe with a vengeance, making it hard to breathe, bringing on a sense of light-headedness. I felt like I was falling into some kind of deep, dark abyss where I witnessed my dream come true before my very eyes.
“Listen, Quinn. I know this is kind of crappy, you and me meeting like this. I’m going to make all kinds of screw-ups, but we are forever now. That’s all you have to know. You hear me?”
His hand was visibly twitching, probably because he was unsure whether to reach out and touch his son or not. Finally, he fisted his hands in front of his stomach, wringing his fingers. I’d never seen the confidence knocked out of Asher before, and it was bringing me to my knees. I slumped down to the cool tile.
“What about Mom? I’m staying with her, right?” Quinn finally made some movement, his head turning back, catching sight of my limp body, worry spreading across his small brow.
“Yes. I’m never gonna take you away from your mom. Never. I promise.”
My son nodded his head, agreeing.
I saw Asher lean in to say something in a whisper, but he made sure it was loud enough for me to hear. “In fact, buddy, I would like very much for the three of us to be a family, but I know I got to win your mom over first. Maybe you’
ll help me.” He looked up and winked at me.
Quinn turned at the same time and gave me a huge smile.
They might as well have said, “Game over.” The man had won my kid over in five sentences, and I couldn’t peel myself off the ground.
The two had turned their attention from me and were back to getting to know each other when Asher asked, “Can I get a hug? Would that be okay? I know we’re both men, but I missed all those years, and I just want one quick one.”
“Uh-huh.”
And just like that, father held his son, and I remained lifeless and listless across the room, floating on some imaginary cloud where happily-ever-after happened for the stripper and the boy next door.
Pimp My Ride
Natalie
Las Vegas, two months later
WE’D BEEN back in Sin City for close to two months now, and I wish it had been all perfectly romantic with Asher and me riding into the sunset with our son in tow. But the reality hadn’t even been close. After meeting Quinn in Miami, Asher went into instant protective-father mode and arranged to have all of our belongings moved back to Vegas with five phone calls. He asked Lynx to wait behind until it was all packed and gone before she followed behind with a first-class ticket bought and paid for by who else? Him.
And he sold my car! I knew it was old and not fancy, but it was reliable and worth some money. Even though my new one, which he procured without asking me, was quite fabulous, driving the enormous thing consumed me with an insane fear of losing control over my life.
I was shattered—all because of a damn vehicle.
I’d been in charge of myself for way too long, and now the idea of someone calling the shots led to ice-cold chills shooting up and down my spine, warning me not to give in to someone who had continually let me down.
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