“We’ll take it,” Asher says.
Minka crosses her arms and adds, “Just to be clear, I still don’t like you, but I respect you for what you did for me.”
I don’t reply, because honestly, I don’t give a fuck. I just want this whole thing to be done, so I can have Asher back safely already.
Chapter Thirty-Five
She was warned.
She was given an explanation.
Nevertheless, she persisted.
Mitch McConnell on
Elizabeth Warren
Three days. That’s how long it’s been since Asher left. In those three days, I have paced and tossed and turned and paced again, hardly sleeping at all. I’m certain that, if another day passes without any word from Asher, Bastian will leave me here—I’m getting on his last nerve.
Hell, I got on Minka’s last nerve an hour into my stay, when she and Nella, who shares her dorm room, got up to sleep in one of her lackeys’ room instead. My night guard followed after her until another of Asher’s guards could take his place. None of us trust Minka and Nella to keep their mouths shut, so they have to be watched.
When there’s a knock on the door, I shoot upward from the desk chair and head straight to the door. To my irritation, Xavier cuts me off, and Bastian opens the door in my stead. There’s a moment of tense silence before I see Asher walking through the threshold. A small cut lines his forehead, and his lip is busted, but other than that, he looks okay.
Not caring who sees, I run up to him and jump into his arms, making him stumble slightly into the crowded hallway until he carries us back into the room. He winces, and I immediately untangle myself from him, but he pulls me back into his arms. I slither my fingers under his shirt, pressing gently around his abdomen, pausing when he hisses in pain.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Probably a broken rib.”
“You need to see a doctor.”
He gives me an awe-shucks-aren’t-you-so-cute? smile that pisses me off. “No need. It’ll heal.”
I don’t press the issue. I won’t win, and I need to pick my battles. “What happened?” I ask again, though this time, I’m referring to what happened while he was gone.
“Nick and I were ambushed by René’s men.”
“How many?”
“Nineteen at a warehouse in Jersey.”
Nineteen. After the showdown at the penthouse, I have no doubt Asher can handle nineteen men—with or without Nick’s help. Clearly, Asher is fine. He’s here, after all.
So, I ask, “Nick?”
“He’s fine. He blew out of town to lay low.”
I don’t ask about that, because I don’t give a damn about why Nick needs to lay low so long as he’s okay. “And René?”
“We found him at a motel a mile away from the warehouse.”
“What’d you do?”
He narrows his eyes at my accusatory tone. “We didn’t kill him, Lucy.”
“Then, what’d you do?”
“We called the police.”
“And they arrested him? With what evidence?”
Asher smirks. “He didn’t have any evidence with him, but we may have planted some for the police to find when they search the room.”
“Asher… that’s illegal.”
“So? It’s only illegal if the police finds out, and they won’t.”
I should be worried that he broke the law, but I’m not. I’m just relieved he’s here, and this is all over. “And Monica?”
“Fired with a lawsuit pending for breaking the NDA. We’re also gathering evidence against her as we speak for a criminal suit. We have the security log showing her entering the building right before the attack. We handed that over to the cops. She should be in jail soon if she isn’t already.”
“But you don’t know if she’s in jail yet.”
“It’s only a matter of time.”
“Oh.”
“Lucy?”
“Yes?”
His eyes darken. “The black rose...” he begins.
My mind races, confused. “What about it?”
“René sent it to you. We were able to track the purchase.”
My eyes widen. “I thought you gave it to me.”
Asher places a finger under my chin and tilts my face up, so I’m looking into his eyes. “For future reference, if I send you roses, it’ll be a whole damn bouquet.”
I smile and lean forward to kiss him. When I pull back, I ask, “So what now?”
“Whatever you want, Lucy.”
Turns out that what I really want after all of this is to have a normal day with Asher, and that includes going to my only class today. I’m taking another course with Dr. Rolland this semester, one on the applications of physics in biology. I haven’t actually physically gone to it, thanks to the threat on my life, but I’m excited to now.
“We’re going to be late.” I frown.
Asher lifts his brow, as if to say, “So what?”
“Splash zone.”
I laugh when he quickens his pace, but it dies immediately at the sight of Monica. She’s hovering outside the entrance of Vaserley just as we exit. In her designer getup and perfect blow out, she reminds me of the third world cuisine I was accustomed to eating during my travels—seasoned to death to hide the rotten meat underneath.
When she sees me, she snarls. “You!”
I approach her as Xavier and my night guard grab her arms. “What about me? You’re the one that tried to kill Asher.”
“I’d never hurt Asher. It was supposed to be you!”
I laugh at her naïveté. “Is that how he got you to go along with this? He promised to kill off your competition?” I know I’m right when she freezes in her struggle against Xavier’s hold.
She opens her mouth to say something, but it doesn’t matter. I’m already walking past her with Asher by my side. Xavier stays behind and waits for the cops to come, but I don’t.
I move forward, and I move on.
And when Asher and I enter the lecture hall and see that the only free seats are in the splash zone, we sit down anyway. I giggle a little when a speck of Dr. Rolland’s spit lands on Asher’s cheek, and he rolls his eyes at me. When he pulls the handkerchief out of his suit pocket to wipe it off, I take the time to admire him.
Asher’s a killer. He’s a genius. He’s loyal. He’s my kind of perfect. He’s the type of man a girl would sit in the splash zone for. And most importantly, he’s mine.
Acknowledgments
Goodness, I have so many people to thank! First and foremost, thank you to my family—my German Shepherd, Bauer; my husky/lab mix, Chloe; and my amazing boyfriend, L. I love you guys so much! Thank you for being there when I needed you guys and leaving when I didn’t. (Y’all know how cranky I can be when I write!)
Elan—thank you for finding the time to text me every single day, even as I write this now, and you’re gallivanting around Europe, surely with better things to do than talking to little ole me.
Another thanks to my professors from UCR and Harvard, all of which have worked hard to shape my writing. I wouldn’t be who I am today without you guys! A special shout out to Derrick, who was instrumental in completely changing my career path.
Last but not least, thank you to everyone reading this, along with the author community. I’ve never even met most of you guys, yet many of you took the time to help me out. In this regard, a special thanks to authors Kat Mizera, Sai Marie, Lu, and Gypsy is much deserved.
About the Author
Parker S. Huntington hates talking about herself, so bear with her as she awkwardly toots her own horn for a few sentences and then bids her readers adieu.
Parker S. Huntington is from Orange County, California. She graduated pre-med with a Bachelor’s of Arts in Creative Writing from the University of California, Riverside. As of April 2017, the 21-years-old novelist is still pursuing a Master’s in Liberal Arts (ALM) in Literature and Creative Writing from Harvard University. Go Crimson!
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She has 2 puppies—a German Shepherd mix named Bauer and a husky and lab mix named Chloe—both termed after characters from Fox’s 24. She also lives with her boyfriend of four years—a real life alpha male, book boyfriend worthy hunk of a man.
She is currently working on Book 1 of the Fillmore Harding Academy Series, which she hopes to have published by the end of Spring 2017.
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Asher Black: A Fake Fiance Mafia Romance Novel (The Five Syndicates Book 1) Page 28