by Owens, C. M.
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t ask you to say anything at all about Tag Masters though.”
“That’s because you seduce your sources first. The thing is, I can’t be seduced anymore, at least not by anyone like you. You were wasting your time from the beginning, and you’re wasting mine now,” I mumble.
He looks over my head, and his eyes widen as he backs up.
I turn just as Tag comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist very protectively.
“Is there a problem?”
“Yeah, what happened to those bodyguards watching over me?” I grumble as I stagger into his body.
He holds me tighter to steady me, and then his eyes move over to a man who basically comes running.
“What the hell?” he snaps to the guy I didn’t know was even around.
“Hey, I was just trying to have a friendly conversation,” Jason says while trying to walk away.
“He’s a reporter. Ask Melanie if she really knows him,” I murmur while turning into Tag and pushing my head against his chest.
The security guard starts patting him down and finds his recorder, and Jason’s head pops back in defeat.
“Told you,” I murmur as Tag pulls me a little tighter.
“What’s going on?” Melanie asks as she rushes out to join us by the fountain.
“Do you know this guy?” Tag asks.
“Yes, he’s a journalist doing a story on my newest business that just launched.”
The security guard rewinds and then plays the only thing recorded.
It’s our conversation, and he finally hits end after it plays, “I need more champagne, not a friend. Tag Masters is my son’s father, so if you’re expecting me to say something bad about him to a guy I don’t know, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“If he was doing a story on your business, he wouldn’t be recording a conversation with Ash. Get him out of here,” Tag says, and the guards usher out the conniving reporter.
“I recognized him. My dad has an obsession with newspapers. Don’t ask,” I slur, and Melanie lets a sigh out before giggling.
“Only Ash can be smart when drunk. You got her?”
“Yeah, I’ve got her,” Tag murmurs softly while scooping me up.
“Tag, I’m not that drunk. I can walk.”
He smirks, and then he shakes his head.
“It looks like we’ll be staying with you tonight,” he laughs, and I pucker my lips.
“We can go home. I’m fit to drive—well, ride.”
“Here that?” Wren chirps as he joins us. “She’s fit to ride, Tag.”
I blush as Tag and Wren both laugh, and Melanie rolls her eyes for the distasteful joke her son made.
“Well, you still have gifts to open. Not to mention, we haven’t even eaten. Ashiara, how did you get so drunk?” she scolds.
“The champagne was really good,” I joke, making Tag laugh a little louder as he carries me inside.
“Where’s Trip?” he asks a guy when we get back in.
“Billy and Shannon are showing him around.”
He nods, and then he starts carrying me up the stairs.
“Tag, please let me go. I want to enjoy the party. I’m fine.”
“You’re drunk, and it’s obvious you need to sleep it off.”
I cross my arms to sulk as he carries me on up.
“I don’t want to sleep. I’m ready to drink. Please stop treating me like a child.”
He laughs and then he pushes the door open to the room where he stayed that weekend.
“I’ll come check on you in a bit. I’m sure I can send one of the guys out to get you some clothes.”
I roll my eyes as he puts me on the bed, and I turn away from him as he covers me up. He’s tucking me in the way I do Trip. How degrading is this?
***
Tag
“Tag, there you are,” another blast from the past exclaims, her cleavage showing, my dick not responding.
I got more of a rise out of Ash’s pouting lips than I am these jugs of fury bouncing around.
“Hey Camille, sorry, but I need to go find my son.”
“Aw,” she pouts. “I just want some time alone with the new daddy. I would have never dreamed you’d be such a good dad.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve just been a dad for a little while. Let’s not go giving me a number-one dad mug just yet.”
I start to walk off, but then she grabs my arm and pulls me into a dark room off to the side.
“I want to show you how impressed I am,” she seduces while dropping to her knees in front of me.
She grabs my belt and jerks it free, but the soft mass in my pants just laughs as I try to pull her up.
“Damn it, Camille, stop. I don’t want to do this. I’m a happy man with a son, and I happen to love his mother.”
“Love?” she gasps while finally relinquishing her hold on me.
“Yes, love. Now act like you have a little dignity, and please don’t make me forcefully remove you from me.”
She puffs up, and then she shakes her head before following me out. Just as the door shuts behind us, Ash is standing there, eyes wide, tears glistening. Her lips tighten into a thin, almost nonexistent line as she stares in disbelief.
“Ash, this isn’t what it looks like,” I blurt out like a cliché cheating bastard, even though I technically wouldn’t be cheating.
It sure as hell feels like it would be cheating, and with the way she’s looking at me right now, she feels like I just cheated.
“Um, it’s fine. I was just going to go tell Melanie goodnight, but I think I’ll get another drink and check on my son instead,” she says, suddenly acting as though the shock of me exiting a dark room with a girl just sobered her up.
Camille slips away without clarifying the fact I turned her down, and Ash rushes away before I can defend myself anymore. Bity and Shannon are still holding Trip, and I see Ash kissing his cheek as I walk up.
“Can I please talk to you?”
“Tag, you don’t owe me anything. Just enjoy the party. Go open some presents your friends got you.”
“What’s going on?” Bity chirps.
“Camille Rags pulled me into a room, and I turned her down. Ash thinks something else happened.”
“Camille is here? I thought I saw one of your other trophies here as well,” Bity adds. “I need to start carrying Trip around. Apparently he’s a little chick magnet.”
Shannon elbows him in the ribs, and he laughs hard. Ash doesn’t seem amused though. She seems colder, more distant - even worse than earlier when we arrived.
“Can we please go talk?”
“Actually, I think I’m going to get one of the guys to drive me and Trip back. He feels a little warm. He’s not used to so much socializing,” she says dismissively, now sounding completely sober.
She takes Trip from Shannon’s grip, and then she starts walking toward the door, the broken pieces of her heart barely hanging on to her sleeve. She really does care, but she doesn’t believe me.
“Ash, I have no reason to lie to you. Please don’t run off into the night with my son. I want you here.”
She whirls around and takes a step very close to me as she stares me in the eyes.
“You want me here? Tag, you don’t even want to be in the same damn room with me. Just forget it. You have the right to fuck anyone you want. You’re a father, not a husband.”
She whips back around and walks away, leaving me standing in the middle of a bunch of gaping mouths.
“I guess that means you’re up for grabs,” a girl says, but I don’t even turn to see who it is as I rush out to follow the girl I love.
“Ash,” I yell. “Ash, stop, please.”
She doesn’t stop, instead, her pace quickens as she rushes to escape my grasp. She runs over to one of the guards, and he nods as he walks away, leaving her alone in the courtyard.
Melanie walks up to talk to her, and I prop up against the wall as I stare at her hopeles
sly. I didn’t even mean to fuck up this time.
***
Ashiara
Unbelievable. Unbelievable. Unbelievable!
I’ve been getting shunned for weeks because I tried to keep him from having to be a responsible adult - which I once didn’t think he could ever be. Now, right when I think we’re making ground, he fucks some random girl at our son’s party. I was apparently in that damn bed for longer than I thought.
“We’re almost there, Ms. Branderwood.”
“Thanks, Troy.”
He smiles softly, and I rub Trip’s small hand as we pull into Tag’s oversized house that feels less like home with every passing second.
“Do you need anything?” he asks kindly as several security guards walk toward us.
“No, thank you. You can tell Mr. Masters he can wake me up when he gets here. I’ll let him have the night alone with his son.”
I’m sure as hell not sleeping with him tonight.
“Will do, ma’am.”
I climb free from the car, and I head inside, praying to fall right to sleep without dreaming about Tag and that stupid, filthy blond.
“Hey, baby,” I murmur to the sweet boy in my arms who is clinging to me with his tiny fingers.
They open the doors for me, and I smile as Trip coos in his sleep. To him, this is home, but to me, this is hell. Here, his daddy loves him. Here, his daddy loves making me cry.
Why am I putting myself through this? Tag has money, but it’s not like he can buy sole custody. If anything, he’ll get joint custody, and he’ll see his son as much as I see him without us living together.
Melanie's house is just as well fortified as his. I don’t care what he says about gaps. I can stay there until my stalker, is found instead of killing myself daily.
“Ms, Branderwood, we’ll be outside if you need anything.”
“Thanks, guys.”
They never sleep. I swear Tag has vampires working for him.
After placing Trip in his crib, I slip out of my dress and toss it into my room before pulling out a set of pajamas to wear to bed. Trip gurgles slightly, and I grin as I pick up the monitor and turn it on before heading into the kitchen.
Now that I’ve sobered up, I’m actually a little hungry. Maybe my anger will help bring back my appetite, now that I’m done feeling guilty.
I tilt my head as I see the back door has been left unlocked. I quickly lock it before punching in the security code. Usually the guys sweep the house to make sure everything is locked up tight before the sun goes down.
I shake off the eerie feeling, and then I head back to the fridge to pull out the makings for a salad. I’ll start light since I’ve barely eaten in three days. I swear I’ve developed an ulcer thanks to Tag’s cold treatment.
I’ll calm down before I talk to him about moving out and custody disputes. Right now, I don’t have the energy. I’m sure he’ll screw everyone at the damn party now that I’m gone.
My phone has at least fifteen missed calls, but I roll my eyes and put it down. Then it buzzes, and I look down to see it’s him. I quickly ignore the call, and then it buzzes again. This time, it’s Wren. Against my better judgment, I answer.
“Hey, Wren. You can tell him we’re at his house, and Trip is fine.”
“Ash, he’s on his way there now. He got a call saying you’d be dead before he got home. We can’t reach the security guards. I’ve already called the cops. Get the hell out of there now!”
A chill spreads over me, and then I feel the sharp, piercing pain as something slices through my back. I cry out, and I hear Wren screaming as my cries find their way to the phone.
I hear the alarm sounding as the door breaks open, and a flash of blond as my attacker is forced to retreat.
“Ash!” Tag yells as it all fades to black.
Chapter Thirteen
No Name to the Stalker
Tag
“It’s fortunate she had the driver detour. The suspect apparently knew when she left, and he expected her home sooner or he wouldn’t have called you to gloat so early on,” the detective sighs.
“Why did they detour?”
“They were going to have to drive past a noisy factory, and she said it scared your son on the way there.”
I smile as I look down at my little boy squirming in my arms, while his mother lies in the hospital bed, still unconscious after her surgery.
“The doctor says she’ll make a speedy recovery. It looks like we’re after a guy between five-four and five-six, based on the attack mark, depth, and angle. It’s a good thing you got there when you did. He left behind a car-seat. He was planning on taking your son with him.”
I shiver as the thought of losing either of them almost overwhelms me. I walk over and sit on Ash’s bedside while taking her hand in mine.
“That’s twice he’s tried to kill her. Any idea what he did to my guys’ phones?”
“An electronic pulse he sent out killed them all. He cut the wires to your land line. Ash and Troy’s phones were still working, but his was left in the car, and apparently she didn’t answer hers.”
“Yeah, I figured that out. We’re going to go stay at one of my other homes for a while. I don’t want Ash to be afraid, and I’m sure she will be if she’s there.”
“Mr. Masters, I don’t want to upset you, but I think she was planning on moving out. She had a suitcase open when we arrived on the scene, and some of her things were strewn across her bed.”
I have barely been in the house for long enough to gauge the surroundings. I was just worried about getting to her. I could have chased the guy I barely caught a glimpse of, but I couldn’t leave her there, bleeding out.
“She might think she’s moving, but she’s not going anywhere until this guy is behind bars or dead. Personally, I prefer the latter of the two.”
“Honestly, I prefer the latter of the two as well. I hope you can convince her to stay. She doesn’t need to be alone.”
“She won’t be alone.”
I won’t let her leave.
***
Ashiara
Waking up in a hospital with a damn aching side is never fun, but I feel fine, considering I was stabbed. Now I’ve been stabbed and shot. Either this guy is the worst criminal of all time, or he’s not as capable of killing as he wants to be.
Either way, I’m grateful to still be breathing. I’m even happier my son is okay, and the psycho focused solely on me.
“You still look incredible, and you’re in a hospital bed,” Shannon playfully gripes. “I hate you.”
I laugh lightly until I realize how badly that hurts to do, and then I shake my head.
“You’re excellent for my self esteem.”
She smiles affectionately, and the doctor walks in to check on me.
“Ms. Branderwood, you are one fortunate young lady.”
“I’ve got a good guardian angel.”
“Well, your guardian angel kept the knife away from all your major organs and arteries. We were able to stop the bleeding and get you stitched up with minimal problem. You should be able to get out of here in a couple of days.”
“Who do I need to give my insurance information to?” I ask while staring at the younger guy who doesn’t look old enough to be a doctor.
“Actually, it looks like your husband has already handled all the financial stuff.”
My husband? Wrong patient, Doc.
“Well that would be a little hard since I’m not married.”
His lady-killing smile flashes, but apparently I’m numb to all other men.
“Well, someone by the name of Tagland Masters handled the financial stuff. I assumed he was your husband, since your son’s name is Trip Masters.”
I should have let him assume he was my husband. Now I just look like a slut.
“Oh. I didn’t know Tag had been here.”
“He hasn’t left,” Wren says as he walks in carrying a gallant bouquet with Billy on his heels bringing one of his own. �
�He’s downstairs with your parents right now, explaining what happened.”
I didn’t want them to meet him. Damn it.
“Oh,” I mumble uncomfortably.
He hasn’t left?
“Well, I’ll see you in a while, Ms. Branderwood. Until then, you need to eat.”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” I grumble. “I got stabbed the last time I tried to eat.”
My morbid joke doesn’t make anyone laugh. They all cringe instead.
“Too soon?” I muse, making Billy and Wren crack a grin.
“Well, it’s good to see you’re feeling well enough to make jokes. We do have a psychologist on hand, and she’ll be coming by to speak to you, per the request of your hus… er… your son’s father.”
Awkward. At least he didn’t say my baby’s daddy.
“Thanks, but I don’t need my head shrunk. I can deal just fine.”
He frowns.
“You’ve been through a lot. I think it would do some good to speak to a professional.”
“I’ve got friends, Doc. I don’t need a stranger to listen to my problems. Thank you though. The gesture is kind.”
He nods, and then walks out, still obviously disagreeing, but too professional to debate it further.
“So, you’ve been shot and stabbed, but you don’t think you need to see a shrink?” Billy gripes, his tone slightly scolding.
“No. I think I need to get a prison tat and join a gang.”
Again, crickets. Crap.
“You guys have to loosen up,” I mumble.
“Who’s loosening up?” Tag asks as he walks in, his eyes finding me immediately.
“Ash is refusing therapy, but she’s talking about prison tats and gang initiations,” Billy grouses.
“Ah, well, in that case, no therapy necessary,” he lightly jokes while joining me at my bedside. “Your parents are here. They still haven’t met Trip. I thought you’d want to be the one to do introductions.”
“Sounds good. Thanks. It’ll take the edge off the whole stabbing debacle. Distract them with a cute baby, and I’ll cease to exist.”
His face stays serious, so I decide not to take my comedy act on the road. Apparently I’ve lost my ability to be funny.