“Such a pleasure to meet you, Ashton.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss?”
“James. I never married, Ashton.”
He winked at me as she gazed at him with admiring eyes.
“Veronica, dear, I was so happy to see you in church again. Your father would have been so pleased.”
I cringed. Aunt Shannon never knew the details of the trauma I’d suffered at St. Augustine’s.
“I’m just sorry he’s gone,” I whispered, looking down at my shoes.
“Yes, dear, Malachy was such a kind, generous man. I miss him already.”
I was glad then that I’d decided to tell Ash about my past. When Shannon referred to Malachy, she knew he meant my father. Shannon was the only one who still referred to him by his birth name. Shannon was six years older than my father and couldn’t bring herself to call him by such an “American” name. Despite spending a great deal of her childhood in the US, Shannon thought of Ireland as her home. After she grew up, Shannon moved back to Ireland as well as spending several years living in England.
As I was talking with Aunt Shannon, my attention was drawn by an outburst in the front room.
“Veronica!” I heard a familiar voice thick with a British accent.
Oh no, it was Bryce!
I had told him not to come that we would work everything out later. My stomach twisted as I feared what Ash would do when he found out I had been engaged.
“Ash, stay here. Let me deal with this.” I hurried to the front room as Ash stood staring after me.
“Bryce!” I hissed pulling him to the side. The rest of my family eyed us curiously as we hurried outside to the patio.
“Veronica, I can’t let you do this. I don’t care whatever happened with Ash. Your father just passed. You don’t know what you’re doing. Let me come and stay here in New York with you.” Bryce pleaded with me trying to embrace me. I shrugged him off.
“No, Bryce, I asked you to stay back in London. I know what I’m doing. Thank you for your condolences, but I meant what I said. I am breaking our engagement and that’s final.” I emphasized by pounding my fists on my thighs.
“But, Veronica, that can’t be it. We’ve been together for a long time. I can’t just let you walk away.” He held my wrists tightly.
I tried jerking and pulling away from him. It was a cold, winter’s day and the rest of my family was watching us arguing outside on the patio.
“You’re not letting me. I am walking away! I’m sorry if this hurts you I really am, but I’m in love with Ash. I always have been.”
Desperately, I was trying to get him to leave before Ash saw us together. Suddenly, the French doors swung open and Ash raced to my side.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ash demanded pulling me away from Bryce.
Bryce laughed as he stared at us.
“So you must be the famous bad boy, Ashton Blackthorne. Really, mate, I was expecting someone a bit more impressive.” Bryce tried slapping Ash on the shoulder.
Ash tossed his hand away. His jawline tightened as his fists clenched. He turned to me.
“Ronnie, who the hell is this clown?”
My eyes widened and I bit my lip. I couldn’t handle this today.
“I knew him in London.” I choked the words out.
Sensing a fight may ensue, the rest of my family charged outdoors. Ash and Bryce stood toe to toe. Ash was the taller one towering over Bryce by several inches.
“Veronica, I want you to come back with me to London. Forget this pompous jerk.” Bryce pleaded with me trying to pull me to him. Ash slapped his hands away from me.
“Motherfucker, I’m going to tell you one time and one time only. Get the hell off this property and stay away from Veronica! If you so much as try to contact her again, you’ll deal with me. I can assure that I will make life very unpleasant for you.” Ash’s hands were clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white.
Just then, Bryce tried hitting him with an upper cut to the jaw. With his fast reflexes, Ash blocked it grabbing his fist and twisting his arm backward.
“Ash! Stop! You’ll break his arm,” I cried, pulling on Ash to release him.
Ash released his arm shoving him to the ground. In a flash, Bryce charged him throwing Ash to the ground. Before Ash could recover, Bryce began pummeling him with his fists. I jumped onto Bryce’s back clawing at his face with my long fingernails.
“Bitch!” he screamed, releasing Ash as he clutched his face falling back onto the pavement.
That was all Ash needed. In a rage, he tackled Bryce pounding his face punching him over and over again. Bryce’s nose was crooked and bloody. His eyes swelled dramatically. Blood trickled from Ash’s nose and his lower lip was cut.
“STOP IT! JUST STOP IT!” I screamed pulling Ash’s arm.
Ash relented, falling back panting for breath.
“Get the fuck out of here before I call the police. NOW!” He screamed holding me close to him.
“Before you go apologize to Veronica and her family. How dare you come here to start trouble on this day of all days. She just lost her father.”
Bryce rubbed his swelling face blotting his bleeding nose with his sleeve. He glanced around at my family who stood in shock.
“Please accept my apologies. I’m sorry for your loss. Goodbye Veronica.” Looking ashamed, he raced off.
After Bryce left, the rest of my family began to say their goodbyes. Aunt Shannon was the last to leave expressing her deepest regrets about my father’s passing.
As we began cleaning up, Ash cornered me.
“Ronnie, just what the hell was all that about? Who was that guy?”
I bit my lip and looked around. My eyes came to rest on my mother’s portrait above the fireplace. She looked so young, so beautiful and so happy in the picture.
“Ash, he’s just someone I knew in London. I worked with him.” I just couldn’t do this today. Everywhere I looked in the house I saw them. Their ghosts were all around this house. All of a sudden, I felt as though I couldn’t breathe.
“Ash, I can’t be here,” I whispered.
Ash looked concerned.
“You want to leave? Come on, Ronnie, let’s go back to my place. I don’t want you to be alone.”
I nodded gathering a few things in an overnight bag. I cast one more glance at my mother’s portrait. Her eyes seemed to follow me.
After I’d doctored his wounds from his fight with Bryce, we curled up in Ash’s bed. Lying there, I looked up at the ceiling. I could feel the question burning in his mind.
“Ronnie, I know today has been hard for you. But I need to know just who that man was.”
I sighed clutching the locket in my hand. I felt sick. I had been dreading this all day. My heart ached with the loss of my father and now with the fear I might lose Ash. Still, he deserved to know the truth which I should’ve told him weeks ago.
“He was my fiancé.”
Ash shot up in bed staring down at me his eyes wide.
“What the hell do you mean?”
“I met him in London after you and I broke up. I met him at a charity ball. His name is Bryce. He’s the son of a British ambassador.”
The look on Ash’s face crushed me. At first, I could see the rage burning in his eyes then incredible sadness.
“So are you saying this engagement is current? Just what’s going on with him?” Ash threw the sheets aside to glare down at me.
I sat up and got to my feet. I was nude so I pulled on a black silk robe. It was time to tell him the full truth even if it shattered our relationship.
“After we started seeing each other again, Ash, I broke up with him.”
Ash’s lips curled over his teeth. He stood up to pull on a pair of black shorts. He stared at me with his fists clenched.
“Just what do you mean? When, Ronnie, when did you break up with him?” He demanded. I’d never seen him this upset.
I looked down the tears alrea
dy forming in my eyes.
“The other day,” I mumbled.
“What other day? When the hell was it?”
“The day my father died.”
Ash’s face turned bright red. He was shaking with rage.
“Ronnie, that was less than a week ago!”
Miserably, I nodded.
He paced the floor realizing what I was saying. I knew this would be bad, but I had no idea he’d be this upset.
“Basically, you’re telling me that you were cheating on him with me, is that right?”
I raced to his side to take his hand. Violently, he jerked away from me.
“It wasn’t like that, Ash. I never really loved him. He was a way to appease my father.”
Ash gave a sarcastic laugh.
“So you were willing to marry a man you didn’t love for the father you claimed to despise?”
“Ash, I never said I hated my father, but yes, I was prepared to marry him. I was alone in London. We had broken up. I didn’t know where to turn or what to do. I choose him because he reminded me of you.”
Ash’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Ronnie? You’re trying to put this off on me by saying he reminded you of me! I saw the guy, Ronnie, he looks nothing like me!” Ash shouted.
For the first time ever, I was actually fearful of him. I backed away.
“Look, Ronnie, this is bullshit. I don’t care what your excuses are. You fucking cheated on him!”
“But only with you, Ash. As soon as I realized we could be together again, I broke it off with him.”
He strode over to the closet pulling my clothes out. He ripped them off the hangers and tossed them at me.
“Get out, Ronnie!”
In shock, I fell to the floor clutching my garments beneath me.
“Ash, please, I love you. I just lost my father. Please don’t do this.”
He wiped his hand down the side of his face. His eyes were reddened as he blinked back tears.
“I’m sorry you lost your father, Ronnie. I understand that pain better than anyone, but I don’t want you here anymore. I can’t trust you. After everything I told you about my mother, how could you do this to me? What the hell did you think I would do?”
Brokenly, I sobbed pulling my clothes over my body.
“I didn’t know, Ash. I’m so sorry.”
Slowly, Ash sank to the floor in front of the huge picture window. He sat quietly just staring outside at the snow covered ground.
I scrambled to my feet and walked over to him. I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“Ronnie, you could’ve told me about him before. If you would’ve told me when we first started seeing each other again, then it would’ve been fine,” he whispered.
Tears dripped from my cheeks as I held his shoulder.
“I didn’t know how to, Ash. I’m so sorry. I never meant for it to happen this way. I mean I did plan—“
“—plan what? I know you orchestrated the entire Vitalife deal.”
I nodded.
“Yes, I did, but that was so that I could see you again.”
He looked at me incredulously.
“You bought those shares just so you could see me again?”
I walked over to him wringing my hands.
“Yes and no. I watched you from afar for years, Ash, waiting to make my move. I just couldn’t marry Bryce without knowing if you and I would ever have a chance to be together. You are the one I wanted. I’ve always wanted you. No one makes me feel the way you do. You’re everything to me, Ash. The way your hand strikes my flesh, the way you command me with your eyes, no one else can do that.”
He sat and stared at me. His eyes appeared cold, lifeless.
“Ash, please understand. I never wanted to cheat on anyone! I’d never cheat on you. You own me body and soul. I’m yours now and forever!” I held the locket out to him.
He reached to slap my hand.
“That locket means nothing now. You were someone else’s when you were fucking me. I can’t…no, Ronnie, I can’t live with that.” His voice broke.
Tears flowed from my eyes blinding me. The pain in my heart was building like a dam threatening to burst and drown me forever.
I stood there crying for what seemed an eternity. I had just lost my father now I was losing Ash.
Suddenly, he turned and exploded at me.
“GET OUT! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!” he screamed. His face was pale and his eyes were blank, devoid of emotion.
Backing away, I raced for the door. Trembling all over, I ran to the elevator. Jumping into a cab, I sank down on the seat. My heart had been obliterated. He would never forgive me now. Once again I had been on the cusp of having everything I ever wanted and once again I had lost it.
Ash was gone.
How would I ever survive without him?
THE END
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Excerpt from Book One of the Dark series, Twisted, coming May 2017!
Winter 2015
The day was unusually cold even for a New York winter’s day. The wind wailed relentlessly like a lost child as I stood in the cemetery listening to the minister’s words. Gazing all around me, I saw hundreds of mourners who had come to pay their respects to the man who’d given so much to so many.
But none of them truly felt the loss as I did.
Ashler Blackthorne, the visionary, the businessman, and most of all, my father.
As the wind whipped my long black overcoat, I stared at the bronze casket covered in flowers. I felt empty inside. Amber, my secretary, stood at my side. Sensing my pain, she reached out to take my hand.
As soon as the minister stopped speaking, a woman wearing a long, tattered coat came racing over the hill.
“Wait!” she cried waving her hands over her head. Everyone turned to stare at her. I couldn’t tell who she was with her long dark hair obscuring her face.
“Wait, stop the funeral!” she screamed as she staggered over to the minister. He moved back from her his mouth agape at her unexpected outburst.
Deeply offended by this disrespectful outburst during the saddest occasion of my life, I stepped over to the woman.
Reeking of alcohol, the woman swayed on her feet. It was only when I got close to her did I realize who she was.
It was my mother.
“Ashton, oh Ashton,” she cried attempting to hug me.
Seizing her by the wrist, I attempted to remove her.
“How dare you come here! After everything you’ve done!” I hissed into her ear. The alcohol fumes emanating from her were so strong I had to turn away.
“Ashton, is he really gone? Is Ashler gone?” she wailed loudly. Everyone was watching us. The minister stood there holding his Bible unsure of what to do next.
“Who is that?”
“I think it’s his first wife.”
“What was her name again?”
The whispers had started. Feeling disgusted, I grabbed her arm ruthlessly.
“Ashton! I wanted to say goodbye to your father!” She fought me as I tried to drag her away.
“It’s okay, everyone. Just a little misunderstanding.” I waved to the mourners as people turned to depart the cemetery.
“Ash, are you okay?” Amber touched my arm.
“It’s my mother. Just give us a moment.”
“I’ll just wait in the car.”
I watched as Amber walked back to the limousine.
My mother. How dare she show up after being gone for nearly thirty years? What the hell gave her the right to even be in the same vicinity as me and my father?
“Ashton, please, I want to say goodbye.” She moaned as I continued to pull her over to the side away from the ears of the departing mourners.
“Debra, how dare you show up here? After everything you did to me, to my father? You have NO right!” I was shaking with rag
e.
“Debra? I’m your mother, Ashton! Your mother!” She pounded her thigh. Revulsion filled me as I looked at her heavily lined face painted with thick garish makeup. Her lipstick was caked on heavily the color bleeding around her thin lips. Her hair was now dark brown and colored with gray. It frizzed out from around her head giving her an even more disheveled appearance. Her coat was thin and shabby. Apparently, the years hadn’t been kind to her.
“No, Debra, you are not my mother. You gave birth to me, but that’s it. You left me when I was only seven! Seven! Do you know what that does to a young child? I went crazy after you left! I blamed myself. I thought I’d done something wrong. You know what? Never mind me! What about what you did to Dad, huh? You were cheating on him for YEARS with his best friend!” Thirty plus years of rage spilled forth from my lips. I could feel my blood boil as I watched her pale then shudder.
She reached her hand out to touch my cheek. I pulled away. Who was this hideous woman before me? Some useless drunk off the streets? No, it was my mother.
“Ashton, I love you. I loved your father. I missed the both of you every day after I left.”
“Then why? Why did you leave?” I practically spat the words at her. The icy wind howled through the cemetery causing me to wrap the coat even tighter around me.
She pulled her thin coat about her. Looking around, she saw that all the mourners had departed except for one.
Amber was still waiting in the car for me.
“Is that pretty girl your wife, Ashton?” she whispered peering at Amber staring at us from the limousine.
“No, Debra, she’s not. She’s a friend. Anyway, what business is it of yours? You never answered me. Why did you leave?”
Her gray blue eyes looked sad. Her face sagged more with defeat than with age. This was a woman who life had literally chewed up and spit out. If I hadn’t hated her so much, I would’ve felt sorry for her.
But I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything but hatred toward the woman who’d caused myself and my father such pain.
“Debra,” I prompted.
She stuffed her bare hands into her pockets.
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