Tagged & Ashed (The Sterling Shore Series #2)

by Owens, C. M.

  “I’ll send them up.”

  ***

  Tag

  “She’s one hell of a tough girl. Have you ever seen anyone this strong after such a traumatic ordeal?” Wren asks as he props up on the wall beside me in the waiting room.

  “No, but then again, I’ve never met anyone like her.”

  Bity walks in, his anxiety in place as his girl takes the seat beside him.

  “Is Ash okay?” I ask, swallowing hard.

  “Sorry, she’s fine. Her parents had to scold me for not telling them she was pregnant.”

  “I explained he didn’t know until she was about to go into labor. I didn’t tell them she was just shy of eight months along when she had him," Shannon says.

  “What was it like? The birth I mean. Was it hard on her?” I ask while sitting down.

  “If it was, she’d never admit it. Ash doesn’t do emotion very well, as I’m sure you’ve learned,” Bity sighs.

  My mind flashes back to the night she fell apart on me, the night I found out Trip was my son. Then I think back to the day at the restaurant. She's shown her vulnerability with me. I've done nothing but handle it poorly each and every time.

  “She got the epidural, and then she had him without any problems. When he was born, she told the doctors he looked just like his daddy. That was the only time she teared up. The rest of the time, she was a rock,” Shannon elaborates.

  “I wish I had come.”

  “She wanted you there, but she didn’t know how to ask you. I think she was worried she’d give it away—call him your son in front of you. She said she knew you’d feel obligated to her, and she didn’t want that.”

  “I do want that. I want to be a part of my son’s life. I want to be a part of her life.”

  Shannon’s eyes widen, and I tighten my lips.

  “What?” I prompt.

  “It’s just… she thinks you hate her, and I have to be honest, you’re one mixed-signaled mother-fucker.”

  I’d laugh at her crudeness if the contents weren’t so tragically true. I do send her mixed signals, but I’ve never done this before.

  “I know. I was going to talk to her when she sobered up, but then Camille-”

  “Let’s not discuss that whore,” Shannon grumbles under her breath.

  “I didn’t do anything with her.”

  “I’m not the one you’ve got to convince. As of right now, Ash is planning on moving out.”

  “She can’t take my son away,” I choke out.

  “She’s not going to. After what happened, she said Trip would be safer with you, and she’s taking herself out of the equation. She’s worried what will happen if this bastard gets that close again. Let’s face it, the odds of her surviving another shot or stabbing aren’t good.”

  “He’s after him, too,” I counter with a painful sting.

  “She thinks he’s only after Trip because she loves him, so she’s going to walk away—try to draw this guy out. She’s already called the detective working the case. He doesn’t like it. He said she should stay with you and let him do his job.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said if he was good at his job, she wouldn’t have been shot and stabbed.”

  Again, I would laugh if the tragic contents weren’t so true.

  “She’s too damn tough and stubborn for her own good, apparently,” Wren grumbles. “If this guy hadn’t been so cocky, she would have died the other night.”

  “He wants attention. Whoever he is, he wants to scare the hell out of everyone,” Bity gripes. “He’s sure as hell got my attention.”

  “She said she thought it was Evan one time.”

  “It’s not him. I was in the process of getting my ass stomped when she got another heavy-breathing phone call.”

  “What about one of her other exes? The list isn’t that long,” I quickly add.

  “Believe me, I’ve grilled then all. All of them were livid when I told them what was going on. Either they're damn good actors, or it was a look of pure shock and concern when I confronted them.”

  Shit.

  “What about work relationships? Did anyone get too close?”

  “Not really. Ash is always too professional to lead anyone on. She meets in public places, never her house. Most of the time, she never even does face-to-face. Only some Sterling Shore clients insist on meeting her."

  “I’ll find out who it is, and I’ll gut him when I do.”

  “I’ll help,” Bity adds, his teeth grinding.

  Until then, I’ll take her home with me whether she likes it or not.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Stubborn People

  Ashiara

  “It was lovely to meet you, Tag,” my stepmother giggles.

  It was lovely to meet you, Tag. Oh please. Get some dignity.

  “You, too. Maybe you can come out to the beach and visit us soon. We’ll be staying there until this guy is caught.”

  I won’t be staying there.

  “Definitely. Take care of my girl,” Dad says while shaking hands with Tag.

  “I will. I promise you that.”

  Great. My dad has made friends with the Devil.

  They hug me quickly, and then they leave the room. Tag comes over to stand beside me.

  “Well, let’s get you out of here,” he murmurs softly while taking my bag.

  “I’m going back to the hotel. You and Trip should go on to the beach house though.”

  It breaks my heart to send my son away, but if it’ll keep him safe, I’ll gladly do it. This bastard wants me, so let him come after me and me alone.

  “Not happening.”

  He starts walking out, and I follow him, my mind bogged by rage.

  “Tag, you can’t force me to come with you.”

  “Watch me.”

  His cocky, smug attitude is normally my undoing, but right now it only infuriates me all the more.

  “Tag, I’m going back to the hotel.”

  He smiles as Bity and Shannon walk away with wry grins of their own, and they carry Trip in front of us as I clutch my side and follow Tag.

  He hands my bag to Wren, and then he turns around to scoop me up, despite my attempts to swat him away.

  “Sir, she has to be wheeled out. It’s protocol,” a nurse scolds.

  “I’ve got her,” he says dismissively before boarding the elevator.

  “Sir!” she barks while rushing toward us, but the door closes before she can argue with this stubborn ass.

  “Let me go, Tag.”

  He just laughs, and then his soft, perfect lips find my forehead as he pulls me closer.

  “Not happening, Ash.”

  The way he says it... it sounds like it means more than it does. I stop struggling, partially because it feels good to be held by him, getting kissed by him, and partially because it’s pointless to struggle. He’s so much stronger than me.

  Instead, I nestle into him, and then I return his kiss to my forehead by kissing his neck, saying to hell with his rejection.

  His breath hitches, and he swallows hard when he feels my lips. But I don’t stop. I kiss him again, dragging my tongue across his neck, and he shifts to suddenly press his lips against mine.

  Oh damn.

  He tastes so good right now, and I can’t let him go. My hands tangle in his hair as he holds me to him, and my lower half throbs with anticipation.

  “You’re staying with me,” he murmurs against my lips.

  “Okay,” I surrender, and his devouring kiss starts up again as he carries me off the elevator.

  “Shit,” he gripes against my lips while pulling away. “I forgot you were on painkillers.”

  Painkillers?

  His eyes turn distant, refusing to look at me. I guess he wasn’t as ready for that kiss as I thought he was.

  I fight back the tears as he carries me to the car where a guy is holding the door open to the back seat of a SUV for us. Trip gets strapped in the very back with Shannon and Bil
ly, while Tag places me in the second row.

  He quickly takes the seat beside me, his arm slipping around my shoulders, and then he nods to the driver before we pull out into traffic.

  “That was scary, by the way,” Billy mumbles from the backseat.

  “What was? The elevator?” I ask in bemusement.

  “Funny,” he grumbles under his breath.

  “Seriously, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You damn near dying, that’s what I’m talking about,” he strains out in a near whisper, and Tag’s grip on my shoulder tightens.

  “The doctor said there wasn’t any problem,” I say a little too casually.

  “That’s not the point. If Tag hadn’t gotten there when he did-”

  Billy can’t finish, and I look to see a tear hanging onto Tag’s eyelid as he looks away. Why is his arm around my shoulders when he pulled away from the kiss for no good reason?

  His phone rings, and he drops his grip on me to answer it, his breath growing heavy as he pulls it to his ear.

  “Detective,” he murmurs softly.

  ***

  Tag

  “Mr. Masters, you wanted to know if I had any news, and I do. We’ve just confirmed the knife used to stab Ms. Branderwood is indeed the one missing from your kitchen set, though the suspect carried it with them when they fled.”

  Why would someone use my knife?

  “Do most of your murder suspects break in and borrow weapons?” I ask, feeling Ash’s body tense beside me.

  I slip my arm back around her shoulders, wishing I could just pull her in my lap and protect her from the world.

  “No. They use the victim’s weapons when the gun they brought jams.”

  “What?” I ask, again releasing my hold on Ash as I lean up to focus solely on what he said.

  “We found the same gun that shot Ms. Branderwood in the street drain not far from the house. The gun hasn’t ever been cleaned, and it looks to have jammed, which most likely led to the use the kitchen knife. We believe she dumped the gun when running away from the scene.”

  I shake my head in disbelief, and then my brow furrows as something he said halts my train of thought, forcing a shift in direction.

  “She?”

  “Yes, we found DNA at the scene suggesting the suspect is indeed a female. Right now, I need you to send me a list of any and all scorned women who might have a grudge against the two of you.”

  That’s a long list just for me.

  “First of all, a guy called me. He told me Ash would be dead before I got home.”

  Her breath hitches beside me, and I lean back and finally unclick her seat belt and pull her onto my lap, forcing her to snuggle against me.

  “We found a phone dropped with the gun. Most likely, the suspect was ditching all the evidence. It took the techs a while, but they finally repaired the phone enough to turn it back on. There’s an app that allows for voice change while talking. Furthermore, the DNA found residing in the phone’s crevices matches the DNA found at your house.”

  What if this is my fault? What if some bitch I blew off is now after the woman I love as a form of revenge.

  “I’ll compile a list of any girls I can remember who might have a grudge.”

  Ash starts shaking her head, and then she tugs the phone from my ear so I’m forced to listen to her.

  “No, this started before you—months before you. It’s pointless for you to make a list. I’ll do it. You can start with Rene.”

  Shit!

  “Rene?” the detective muses, obviously overhearing Ash’s declaration.

  “Rene Ballinger. She’s obsessed with Ash and me, but she knew Ash before I did.”

  “I’ll get right on it,” the detective adds before hanging up.

  I lean back, uncertain of whether or not I should still keep Ash in my lap now that my cock has awoken. I shouldn’t be craving sex right now. I should be focused on keeping her alive, but it’s been so damn long.

  “Did you hear all that?” I ask curiously, my body shifting awkwardly to try to hide the damn hard piece between my legs as her ass slides around in my lap.

  “I heard enough to piece it together. At least it makes sense why the guy was so short now - since it’s no guy at all,” she murmurs while leaning into me a little more, making my damn cock ache to be inside her.

  If she’ll kiss me once she isn’t under the influence of the painkillers, I’m going to spend days in the bedroom with her.

  ***

  Ashiara

  His erection is digging into me, and I want to free it and pull it inside me so badly that it hurts. I want to tell him I love him, and I want to tell him I’m sick of all this bullshit.

  “I always knew that bitch was crazy,” he huffs, his breath falling down the side of my neck.

  “I wish I had known. Ash, I’m so sorry,” Billy chimes in with a double dose of guilt.

  “Billy, it’s not your fault some chick hates me. Besides, we don’t know if it’s even her.”

  Tag’s neck is inches from my lips, and I know he can’t resist me if I start kissing it right now.

  My lips start moving toward it, but the car stops as it finds the entrance of a gate. I look up to see the ocean in view, and there’s a man standing outside his car, getting frisked by security.

  Tag’s face is suddenly ashen as he stares at the man I’m worried is secretly a ghost, given the ghastly expression on Tag’s face.

  “You know him?” I ask curiously.

  He hesitates to answer, seeming to pale all the more.

  “Unfortunately," he says at last. "I hope you’re ready to meet my father.”

  ***

  Tag

  My erection is completely gone now as my father’s car follows behind us down the long driveway to my beach home. Ash’s jaw drops as she stares at the house in disbelief.

  I’ve been excited to show her this place, and now Damon has ruined that.

  “Ash, take Trip and go on inside. I’ll deal with my father, and I’ll come check on you later.”

  She looks at me as if she’s confused, but she doesn’t have time to escape before the staggering fool meets us outside the house, his arms stretched wide, his breath reeking, and his clothes a wrinkled mess.

  His suit looks to have been worn for days on end. One tail of the front of his shirt is tucked in, while the other wrinkles in front of his pants. His tie is as crooked as his fucked-up head.

  “What are you doing here, Damon?” I growl.

  “Is that any way to greet your old man?” he says with stammering annunciation. “What do you think I’m doing here? I came to meet my grandson.”

  “How did you know about my son?”

  Ash pulls Trip closer to her as she starts walking away, but Damon chases after her.

  “I’ve been reading about you, kid. Since you rarely speak to me, it’s the only way I can keep up.”

  Ash forces a smile, her eyes darting to mine for a second before falling on Damon’s hand that is touching the cheek of our child. I want to rip his arm off and beat him with it, but I hold my breath.

  Being a father now, I’m just hoping Damon is here for the right reasons. He smiles as he pulls out a stack of tabloids from his briefcase, all of them with mine and Ash’s faces plastered on the fronts.

  “See?” he says while showing them to us.

  Ash gasps, and I sigh out loudly.

  Shit.

  ***

  Tag

  “How fucked up are you right now?” I ask as I stand alone with Damon in the kitchen of my beach home.

  “I’m clean right now,” he lies.

  He’s on some random drug, I can tell. He’s drunk as fuck, too - always is. He has never known how to do anything in moderation.

  “How much do you want?” I ask with my chilling tone.

  “I don’t want anything, son. I just came to see my grandson and meet my son’s girlfriend. Is that so much to ask?”

  I
wish this wasn’t some elaborate act. I wish he wasn’t here for all the wrong reasons. Just once, I’d love to sit down and eat dinner with my father and have a normal conversation. It’d be nice for Trip to have a grandfather from my side, but it’ll never happen.

  Ash’s parents and Melanie are the only grandparents Trip will ever have. I’m fine with that, too, because I know my father isn’t grandfather material.

  “Fine. You can stay and eat dinner with us. Wren will be coming by shortly. You remember Wren, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Thank you.”

  He heads into the living area, and my eyes follow him as he sits down beside Ash to reach over for Trip. She very uneasily hands him over, but her eyes never leave him, nor do mine.

  “Do you mind if I use your shower? I got caught up in a crazy storm. I could use a shower and a place to change,” he murmurs while giving Trip back.

  “Third door on the right,” I say while pointing down the hallway, and he smiles before walking off.

  ***

  Ashiara

  “Whatever you’re cooking, it smells delicious,” Tag gushes as he walks up behind me, leaning over me to inspect the stove as his hand rests on the small of my back.

  He’s been touching me all day. He can’t stand close to me without touching me. It’s confusing the shit out of me, too.

  “Your dad seems to be doing well with Trip,” I say to shift the conversation, hoping his touch will move unless he really wants me.

  I look over my shoulder as Damon does his best to make silly faces at Trip, hoping for a laugh.

  He smiles as he looks, too, and then he reaches down and pulls a bean from the stir-fry to pop into his mouth.

  “I’m surprised. This is the longest my father has hung around since I’ve been an adult.”

  That’s pitiful. I wish I could kiss his smiling lips right now.

  He looks down, his eyes meeting mine, and for a fleeting second, I think he’s about to give in.

  “So, Ash, your food is making my stomach growl,” Damon says as he joins us, breaking our intense eye contact.