BEAST

by Measha Stone

  He raked his hand through his hair and let out a growl.

  “Things didn’t go so well?” Peter’s voice mimicked the sound of nails dragging over a chalkboard but succeeded in dragging Ash from his berating thoughts.

  “What do you want?” He didn’t bother to face his cousin. Whatever he wanted, he could spill and get the fuck away from him.

  “She’s gone.”

  “No shit, she’s gone.” Ash spun and stomped across the studio, feeling her still there. He could smell her shampoo, sense her soul standing in front of the easel. She’d been so fucking beautiful working on her painting. Arguing with him when he wanted to see the project. Her smile knocking the breath from him when he gave in and said he’d wait until she finished.

  “You could have made her stay.”

  Ash touched the table with her paints, wanting just a moment of her warmth to still be there.

  “I don’t do that. You know it.”

  “She wasn’t an employee, Ash. You could have made her stay, could have reminded her about the payment—”

  “Fuck off, Peter!” he roared at his cousin.

  “Admit it. Will you finally fucking admit you love her? That you let her go because you love her?”

  Ash searched the table for something to throw at Peter’s head. One good shot and he could knock him down the stairs from where he stood.

  “Of course, I fucking love her. That’s not the point!” he yelled instead when he couldn’t find anything of good weight.

  Peter took an exaggerated breath. “It’s the only point that matters.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You aren’t your father. You have never been him, and you never will be. You won’t ever treat her the way your mother was treated.”

  “I’m really not in the mood for a therapy session.”

  “Fine. What comes next?”

  Ash moved around the table of supplies and came to face to canvas with her project. His chest burst, and he stumbled over his feet getting closer to it.

  Large brush strokes, dark coloring, and perfection splayed out before him.

  It was him.

  His hair was loose, covering part of his face, and his jaw chiseled to give him a fierce expression. Except his eyes. In his silvery blue eyes, she’d shown him, the true him. The part of him, he tried desperately to shelter from her. From everyone.

  A vulnerability lurked there. Passion and love and intense honor all conveyed by her gentle strokes.

  His fingers traced the outline of his jaw.

  She’d seen him.

  Not just seen his scars or his hair or his tattoos. She’d seen him. Parts of him he locked away from everyone were showcased so easily on the canvas before him.

  “Is her father still downstairs?”

  “He’s in the basement.”

  “Call Daniel and make sure Ellie got to her apartment okay. Then find out how much that jackass actually owes Komisky and pay it.”

  “What? You’re going to pay that asshole?”

  Ash couldn’t tear his eyes from the painting. She would be safe. Back in her apartment, far away from all this bullshit, she’d be better off.

  “Yes. Then pay her father whatever his asking price for the café is and send him on his way. Make it clear he is not to go back to his apartment. He doesn’t live there anymore.”

  “Ash—”

  “Just fucking do it.”

  “And Ellie?”

  “Leave her be. Tell Daniel to put a detail on her for now. Make sure Marcus can’t get to her.”

  After a long pause, Peter agreed and left him to his own mess.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Ellie, you can’t just wallow in here forever.” Jason entered the back room of the café with the register drawer.

  It had been a busy day. The chilly weather drew larger crowds, and having the community skating rink up and operational only half a block away made them the prime spot for a cup of coffee or hot chocolate.

  Two weeks had passed since she made her way home from Ash’s estate. She hadn’t heard a word from him or his men since Peter knocked on her day a day after she’d left.

  He assured her her father was fine but wouldn’t be coming around unless she wanted him to. She had only shaken her head. She wasn’t ready to face him, not yet.

  She wanted to ask after Ash. Was he okay? Did he even care she was gone? But she didn’t.

  “I’m not wallowing, I’m working,” she shot at Jason, giving him a forced smile, and turned her attention to the bank ledgers.

  “Well, you can’t work yourself to death either.”

  “I’m fine, Jason. I told you. I’m good.”

  “You haven’t told me anything. You were gone for over a month, Ellie. What happened there?”

  “Nothing. Ash wasn’t as horrible as he looked.” She concentrated on the ledger in front of her, not allowing him to see the pain in her eyes.

  “I’ve seen him, Ellie. The man looks like he could squish me like a bug with his fingers.”

  She nodded with a shrug. “He could.”

  Jason’s mouth dropped open, and she laughed.

  “But he wouldn’t, is what I’m saying. He’s not the beast I thought him to be.”

  “Well, his goons are still parked across the street.” Jason went about tallying up his receipts and balancing his drawer.

  “Yeah,” She sighed. “They’ll go away after he realizes I’m safe.”

  “And when will that be?” Jason asked.

  She turned away from the computer and rubbed her temples. Numbers made her head hurt.

  “I don’t know.”

  Could she be safe without her father paying off his debt? And she doubted Marcus would forgive so easily what happened at the party. It was what caused him to go after Ash in the first place.

  A part of her wanted to give the preverbal middle finger to the entire situation. After all, she’d been innocent. She’d been used like a toy and sold into the whole mess.

  But Ash wouldn’t have to be dealing with the fallout of the party if she hadn’t been there. That was her doing, and from what Jason told her, it didn’t stop at Marcus.

  Jason, she came to realize, paid more attention to the goings on of the city than she ever had. He had told her about Mr. Bertucci and Mr. Jensen also talking about Ash. Though he didn’t have much more information other than they had wanted to get into business with him, but he declined.

  “Are there any customers still out there?” she asked.

  “Just the two guys in the corner. They’re just finishing their coffees. I told them we were closing.”

  She nodded. “I’ll start closing down the pastry case then. I’ll box them up for you. Take them home. If I do, I’ll eat them.” And she’d spent the last ten days eating her feelings already. She wouldn’t be able to fit into her jeans if she kept it up.

  Ash was a passing memory. Whatever she’d dreamt up between them was just that, a dream.

  This was real life. The café, her art, school. This is what she would focus on. Because when she stopped, when she gave herself a two second break, he would drift into her thoughts, and the surrounding world would stop moving. She’d be lost in the tension in her chest, the pounding of her heart, and she would lose all concentration.

  Forgetting him was the only way to survive because living with his memory would kill her.

  She left Jason counting quarters and went to clear out the pastries. The bakery would be making their delivery early to refill her order, and having empty shelves to stock would make it easier at five in the morning.

  The two men Jason mentioned sat in the corner, huddled together, talking quietly. They glanced at her when she started working in the case but returned to their conversation, ignoring her completely.

  “Just a little longer and this whole fucking mess will be done,” one of the men said. “After it�
�s done, I’m taking a fucking vacation. This shit has me all tied up in knots.”

  “Yeah. Me too. Going up against Ashland Titon isn’t exactly easy business,” his partner complained.

  Ellie’s heart skidded to a stop. Without glancing over at them, she moved over in the case, reaching for the peach Danishes and concentrating on their conversation.

  “Komisky’s an idiot if you ask me. I mean, getting us to harass him a bit with the health inspections fine, it’s annoying but no big deal. But what I hear he’s planning tomorrow night? He’s either got some big balls or is missing a few screws.”

  His partner laughed. “I’ve met the man. He’s definitely missing a few cogs in that wheel of his. He doesn’t have the business sense like his old man.”

  “From what I hear, it’s his balls that got him all pissed off in first place. Wanted some piece of ass he couldn’t have, or something like that. If you ask me, Ash shoulda just gave him what he wanted. It’s not like he’s working with a bunch of virgins up in his castle.”

  Ellie’s throat constricted, but she continued working the pastries out of the case.

  “You know that’s not how he operates,” the first man said with some heat. “His dad, sure, but not since Ash took over.”

  “Look. It doesn’t matter. After tomorrow night, he’ll either be locked up or dead. For our sakes, dead would be a better option.” The larger of the two men threw back his coffee and pushed his cup away from him.

  Ellie eased out of the case and stood up, watching the two men, memorizing their features as they stood from their table and put on their coats. Button by button, she committed it all to memory.

  Ash was in trouble.

  They grabbed their hats and headed for the front door, Ellie’s heart still hammering away in her chest. The larger of the two, the one wishing for Ash’s demise, opened the door while the second one turned back to her.

  “Best cup of coffee in town,” He smiled at her.

  She swallowed and nodded. “T-thanks. Have a good night.”

  “Will do,” He tipped his hat to her and followed his partner out into the street.

  What the fuck was she supposed to do now? Shouldn’t she call Ash and warn him? Let him know what was happening?

  “What’s wrong?” Jason asked, coming out of the back.

  “What? Nothing.” She closed the pastry case.

  Was her father still there? Didn’t Ash turn him over to Marcus, or did he still have him locked up in his basement? Or worse.

  She should have asked Peter when she saw him. She should have demanded more answers. The hurt of being betrayed by her father had clouded her sense of right and wrong. Her mother wouldn’t have wanted her to leave him to die at the hands of those men.

  No.

  Ash’s problems were his own. He was a grown man who made his own decisions, and he could handle whatever came his way.

  She wasn’t going to run in and try to save him. She wasn’t that person anymore. She protected herself. No one else. Just herself.

  “Everything’s fine, Jason.” She closed the box of pastries and put it on the counter. “Here, take this home.”

  She would go home, read a good book, have a glass—or bottle-of wine and go to sleep.

  Ash Titon didn’t need or want her.

  And she didn’t need him.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Ash slammed his office door. Ten days. She’d been gone ten days and not one word from her. What did he expect? He’d just let her walk out of his life like every step she took out of the door didn’t rip his heart a little more out of his chest.

  Some of her things were still scattered through their room. Little trinkets of memory. A hairbrush she’d forgotten, a necklace she had taken off the night before she’d run. One of her damn colored pencils sat on the dresser, laughing at him each night as he sat in his bed alone, wondering what she was up to.

  He didn’t have to wonder, for the most part. His men reported her movements daily. All the woman did was go to work and home. She hadn’t even gone to her class; her professor had already emailed him inquiring about it.

  The days were running into each other. Nothing other than a new moon separated them, and no matter how immersed he became in work, he couldn’t shake her from his mind.

  “Ash.” Peter stalked into the office with a stack of papers in his hand.

  “What?” Ash snapped. He’d lost patience for pretty much everyone around him, and Peter wasn’t an exception.

  “Don’t get pissy with me. You’re the one who ordered another party put together so fucking soon.” Peter’s eyes darkened. He was right, of course. Ash had given the order, and there wasn’t much time to put the usual effort in.

  “What do you want?” Ash asked again, trying to erase the pain from existence.

  “Here’s the final guest list with responses. Surprisingly enough, we should be having a good turnout. And the girls who weren’t put on longer contracts from the last party have signed up to go on contract this time.”

  Ash brushed stack of papers away. “Good. Anything else?”

  Peter coughed. “Another inspection at Delilah’s. We passed, of course, but the kitchen couldn’t serve for the first two hours we were open last night.”

  “Two hours? What the fuck.”

  “He was extremely thorough.” Peter laughed, but it held no humor. Nothing about it was funny. Every hour the kitchen stayed closed meant money didn’t get made. The patrons would tip the dancers, and the drinks would flow, but during the first few hours the kitchen made the most money.

  “Komisky is really starting to piss me off.” Ash fisted his hand. It wasn’t enough his heart barely recognized life since Ellie left, but he had to be continually annoyed by that prick.

  “Do you want to do something about it?” Peter asked. Ash had kept them all on a leash when it came to retaliation for the idiocy of Marcus Komisky, but Peter was right. He needed to be dealt with.

  “Let’s get through the party, then we’ll focus on him,” Ash agreed.

  “Daniel said Dominick has been asking for you again.”

  Ash laughed and spun around in his chair. “He can wait until this mess is all cleaned up and Ellie is in the clear. Then I’ll deal with him.”

  “You can’t keep him locked up forever.” Peter stated the obvious.

  “I can do whatever the fuck I want.” Ash poured himself a drink, his eye catching on the painting on the wall just over the bar. It had been one of Ellie’s favorite scenes. At least half a dozen times, he’d caught her in his office, looking at his mother’s artwork.

  “Have the rest of Ellie’s shit removed from my room and the adjoining room. Whatever you find, have it delivered to her. She’ll want all her things.” He tossed back the liquor, wishing for a stronger burn than it gave.

  “Why don’t you bring it to her. Maybe see her for yourself?”

  Annoyed, Ash yelled, “Why the hell would I do that?”

  “Because you need her.” Peter didn’t retreat when Ash advanced on him. “You need her, and she needs you.”

  “You don’t know anything. Just get the party in order, get her shit out of my room, and do your fucking job.” Ash poked a finger into Peter’s chest and moved around him to the door, slamming it behind him.

  He ignored Daniel who lingered at the end of the hall like he had a question. The men standing at the stairs waiting to talk to him, silently stepped aside so he could get up the stairs.

  Couldn’t they see how hard it was to breathe? Didn’t they feel the Earth dying around them?

  Climbing another set of stairs, he made his way to his personal workout room. He needed weights, and to run, and to put his mind somewhere else. Somewhere Ellie hadn’t marked.

  Except, everywhere he went, she seemed to still be with him.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX<
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  The sun started to fade, illuminating the city outside her condo window. Not like the beautiful orange hue she’d seen from the studio on Ash’s estate, but still she found serenity in the moment.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she took her phone from the pocket of her jeans for the tenth time. She swiped the screen open, found his contact screen, and again her finger hovered over the little envelope icon. She could just send him a text, letting him know what she’d overheard last night.

  Then she could get rid of the phone.

  She should have gotten rid of it when she got home. Having the link to him only made her keep thinking about him when she should be moving on.

  “Oh, fuck it. He’s a big boy. He’ll be fine.” She tossed the phone on the couch and made her way to her father’s room.

  It was time to clear out his closets. She wouldn’t throw his stuff out, but she needed to get a handle on the mess he’d left behind. Maybe, after another week, she’d go out to the detail Ash had stationed outside her apartment and ask them to get the stuff to her father for her.

  She’d been home for nearly two weeks, and not once had she set foot in his room. The stale scent of his aftershave probably hung in the air. What she found comforting as a child would only be a reminder of his betrayal. He’d used her. Her own father had bartered her life to save his own. Not once, but twice. How many times had she bailed him out of trouble over the years? How hard she’d worked to scrimp and save just enough to pay for one class at the university, only to have him use her for his own gain in the end.

  She was his daughter. He should have been scrimping and saving. He should have gotten a second and third job to provide for them. It was his duty, not hers!

  Had she really meant so little to him? Had her mother meant nothing to him? Oh, how devastated her mother would be to see the mess he’d created for himself. And the turmoil Ellie had caused as well.

  She could sit and let the past destroy her, but it wouldn’t solve anything. The morning would bring bills to be paid. The coffee shop to be managed. Her life still needed to be lived, even if it was to continue on with less vibrant color than before.