Traded

by Rebecca Brooke

  “You think I’m sexy?”

  He slammed his foot on the brake, throwing us forward. Slowly, he turned to face me. “Fuck yes, I think you’re sexy.”

  I twisted my fingers in my lap. “I’ve never seen myself that way.”

  His hand moved over the center console to take mine, linking our fingers together, and he lifted his other hand to my face. “I know. I wish you would.”

  Staring in his eyes, I was lost in the moment when his hand dropped from my face to my neck, his fingers finding their way into my hair. Lowering his head, he brought my lips to his. The first connection and I let myself fall into the kiss. No one had ever kissed me and left me feeling it all the way to my toes. The light taste of cinnamon flooded my senses when his tongue caressed my lips, coaxing me to open. Ignoring the voice in the back of my head screaming that I shouldn’t be doing this, I parted my lips and let him in. The glide of his tongue against mine was hesitant, but not in a way that made me think he didn’t want this. It made heart want to pound out of my chest. Everything around me fell away. It was just him and me. Ashton and Elena, and their kiss.

  This kiss.

  And as quickly as the kiss began he was gone, his hands falling away to grip the leather of the steering wheel. His knuckles flexed and I could see his skin turning white with the effort.

  “I shouldn’t have done that. I apologize.” And without another word, he sped off toward his parents’ place.

  Without the noise of the radio to cut through the silence, the air around us filled with a tension you could have cut with a knife. I was shaken to my core. I couldn’t speak or think. Everything I’d ever known had just been obliterated by one simple kiss. In all my years with Dominic, I’d never once felt this way. Our kisses had always been fairly chaste, and he hadn’t really kissed me at all in the last five years. Usually he told me to get on the bed and lay there. No touching, no feeling. No connection, no tenderness. Nothing personal. The kiss with Ashton was very, very personal.

  So why did he pull away?

  Why did he say he shouldn’t have done that?

  Did I do something wrong?

  Doubts and desire warred within me. From the moment I’d met Ashton, he’d made me question everything. From Dominic’s treatment of me, to the views I held of myself. It shouldn’t surprise me that tonight was the first time I’d felt desire in forever. Anyone would feel special after what he’d given me over the two weeks I’d been with him. But I didn’t want to just be special. I wanted to be special to him.

  I still hadn’t come up with an answer when we arrived at his parents building.

  Ashton had warned me earlier in the week that his parents preferred to live in the city instead of the surrounding suburbs. As he pulled the car up alongside the valet, the desire to jump out of the car and run down the street was overwhelming. I wasn’t done processing the kiss, or Ashton’s withdrawal. I couldn’t even begin to process what was about to happen. Not once in my life did I ever think I’d be faced with a crime lord. And to top it off, his son brought me here.

  The valet opened the door for me. Taking deep, calming breaths, I exited the car, tamping down any residual nerves as best I could. Regardless of what had just happened, I didn’t think Ashton would let anyone hurt me; his family included.

  I let Ashton guide me through the doors and into the elevator. He still hadn’t said a word to me, but the tension poured off of him in waves. It only got worse when the elevator doors closed us in. The air grew static—like there was electricity dancing all around us. I kept my eyes on the doors, only chancing a look when I thought he wasn’t paying attention. The third time, our gazes locked. My body burned. All I wanted was for him to back me into the wall and kiss me like we were in some stupid romance novel.

  But this was real life, not some fairytale. The man I wanted more than I should obviously didn’t see me the way I saw him.

  The bell dinged and the doors opened, breaking the connection for only a second before he placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me out of the elevator, toward voices that came from the other side of what looked to be a front door. My stomach was buzzing with butterflies, which only got worse when Ashton bypassed knocking and pushed the door, revealing a group of people sitting around, drinking and enjoying each other’s company.

  “Ashton.”

  An older version of the man beside me stood from the couch, his eyes zeroing in on me as he moved around the furniture to join us in the entryway. “And you must be Elena.” He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips.

  “That’s me.”

  For the second time in an hour, a blush burned my face. So much for being self-assured. Not even a minute in and I was already tongue-tied. “It’s nice to meet you . . .” The blush on my face intensified. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t even thought to ask Ashton his father’s name.

  He laughed. “Call me Malcolm. Come, let’s introduce you to everyone else.”

  He kept hold of my hand and walked me into the room. Everyone’s eyes were on me. Even after all the years I’d spent on stage, center of attention, it still made me nervous to be in a roomful of people. It didn’t help that I hadn’t been on a stage in at least five years, if not more.

  “Elena, this is my son, Miller.”

  A very attractive man with dark hair reached out his hand to me and let out a low whistle as his fingers tightened around mine. “Holy shit, Ashton, you failed to mention she was fucking gorgeous.”

  Malcolm smacked Miller upside the back of his head. “Language.”

  “Sorry, Dad, but look at her.”

  Miller gestured toward me and, unsure of what to say, I just stood there . . . mute. I was so caught up in what was going on around me that I missed Ashton step up behind me. “What did I tell you?” he whispered, his hot breath on my ear making me want to groan. I suppressed a shudder and focused on Malcolm, who was introducing me to a woman with long blonde hair.

  “Elena, this is my sister, Veronica.”

  The woman smiled and, dispensing with any kind of formality, she stepped forward to wrap me in a hug. “I’m so glad to meet you. I would love to get a chance to talk later.”

  “Of course.” I couldn’t imagine what she might want to talk about, but she was Ashton’s aunt and as a guest in his family home it would be rude to question her.

  She gestured toward the man next to her. “This is my husband, Samuel.”

  I held my hand out and he clasped it in his own. “It’s nice to meet you. Ashton, good to see you again.”

  Ashton gave his aunt a hug and shook Samuel’s hand before asking, “Mom’s in the kitchen?”

  Malcolm laughed. “Where else did you think she would be?”

  Ashton lightly touched my elbow. “Will you be okay here, if I go help Mom finish dinner?”

  What was I supposed to say? I knew Ashton loved to cook and his food was fabulous. “Sure.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Veronica spoke up. “We don’t bite.”

  Ashton shook his head, his tongue darting out to swipe over his white teeth and flashbacks of that tongue on mine in the car nearly had my knees buckling. “I’ll be right through there if you need me.” He pointed toward a set of double white doors and waited for me to respond.

  “I’ll be fine. You go.”

  “Elena, come sit with me.” Veronica turned to Malcolm. “Can you get us each a glass of Chardonnay?”

  “Anything for you ladies.” Malcolm immediately moved to fetch our drinks. It wasn’t hard to see where Ashton had learned his manners. It must be a family trait.

  As he waited on us, I realized that Malcolm did not fit any of the molds I’d tried to place him in before we arrived, but while he had been extremely kind to me since we arrived, I had a feeling that under the surface was a man not to be tangled with. He bore the demeanor of a man used to getting what he wanted. He’d protect and defend what was his, no matter the cost.

  Not wanting offend Veronica, I took the se
at on her other side.

  “Samuel, I need you to look over an account for me.” I turned at Miller’s voice, watching him turn to Malcolm. “Dad, can we use your office?”

  “Sure,” he called over his shoulder. “Let me finish getting these ladies their drinks and I’ll meet you there.”

  Making his apologies, Samuel stood and followed Miller down another hall, just as Malcolm returned and handed us each a glass. “Thank you,” I said, taking hold of the stem, grateful for something to do with my shaking hands. I might have told Ashton I was fine but that didn’t mean the nerves hadn’t returned in full force.

  “If you need anything else, just yell.”

  Malcolm turned and took the same path as his son and brother in law, leaving Veronica and me alone in the room. I took a sip of my wine, struggling to think of anything to say. Luckily, Veronica was not so awkward.

  “So, Elena, tell me about yourself.”

  “There’s not much to tell.” I took another sip. The dry flavor of the wine definitely appealed to me. I reminded myself to slow down. It wouldn’t look good if I got drunk.

  “I think there’s plenty to tell.”

  My shoulders hunched. How much did she know? “I guess you talked to Ashton.”

  She laid her hand on my leg, giving a gentle squeeze as she said softly, “No. I spoke with my brother. He told me what happened at the baseball game when you ended up with Ashton, but I didn’t need to know that to read it all over you. It’s easy to spot when you’ve been there yourself.”

  My gaze snapped to hers and my eyes widened.

  “My husband verbally abused me for years.”

  “Samuel?” My voice came out squeaky and I was aware my eyebrows had made their way up into my hairline.

  She laughed. “Oh God, no. That man wouldn’t hurt a fly. Samuel is my second husband. My first husband was a raging asshole, but it took me a while to see that.”

  I shook my head, feeling the need to leap to my husband’s defense. “Dominic doesn’t mean what he says.”

  “He does.” I flinched at her direct tone, but she ignored it and continued. “He means every word of it because it helps him control you. Every time he puts you down, you believe more of the shit he says. You worry you’re not good enough, that he’s the best you’ll get. And bam! you’re his slave. Any of this sound familiar?”

  She didn’t pull any punches. “A little. But I’m not his slave.”

  “Oh, you’re not? Don’t feed me lines. You already know all of this is wrong—what’s stopping you from admitting it?”

  There was no point trying to talk my way out of it. While Veronica may have been in my position at one point, it was clear that she was no longer that woman. I doubted she’d accept anything less than the truth. “He’s the only one who wants me.”

  “Have you seen the way my nephews look at you? One in particular?”

  “Ashton’s only stuck with me because my husband owes him money and can’t pay it.”

  “That may be how you met, but trust me when I tell you that boy wants more.”

  “No he doesn’t.”

  Taking piece of hair in my hand, I began to twirl it around my fingers, her words running through my mind, confusing me, but I knew the truth. Ashton didn’t want me. He’d near enough said it in the car. I looked away, not crazy about admitting this to a complete stranger, but she needed to understand. “Ashton kissed me tonight, but only for a moment before he pulled away. He said he was sorry, and that he shouldn’t have done it.”

  She groaned. “Please tell me that’s not what he said?”

  “It is.”

  “Hmm . . .” She tapped her forefinger on her chin. “Did you say he said shouldn’t have?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Doesn’t want to scare you,” she muttered into her glass, her eyes focused on something in the distance.

  “But he said he shouldn’t—”

  “Exactly, shouldn’t have not didn’t want to. There’s a huge difference, Elena. I know my nephew and there is very little he does without wanting to.”

  It was an interesting theory, but I remained unconvinced. “Maybe.”

  “Elena, Ashton called because he wants me to try and help you. He knows what I went through and set up this whole dinner so we could talk.”

  “He told me he wanted me to learn something tonight.”

  “Yes, he does. He wants you to understand you don’t need to put up with the bullshit—that you’re better than that, and deserve to be treated as such.”

  “You really think I can do better?”

  “Of course you can. I thought the same way with David, but he was wrong. Malcolm helped me see that. Now tell me about your husband so I can show you why everything he says is wrong. It’s what helped me overcome all of David’s garbage.”

  It took another glass of wine and a good while, during which time I noted that none of the other family returned to the room, but I told Veronica everything about Dominic; including what led to me staying with Ashton. My throat burned as I tried to hold back my emotions, but the tears slipped from my eyes anyway, and the whole time Veronica held my hand, offering me a tissue when it got too much, never pressuring for more information but waiting for me to continue. The experience was cathartic to say the least. With each admission I began to see what I’d been living with; what I’d let myself live with. And in getting everything out in the open, talking about things that I’d pushed down for so long, some I’d forgotten until that moment, I began to realize that Ashton and Veronica were right. I didn’t deserve the life I was living with Dominic. I was a good person. He was not. And the biggest realization?

  I was worth more.

  CHAPTER 9

  Ashton

  I left the room knowing that Elena had no idea what she was in for. Miller and Dad had been briefed and I was confident they would get the hint and leave the room, probably with Samuel in tow. Aunt Veronica did not pull any punches when it came to abusive men. Once she’d pushed David from her life and found herself again, she used her time and energy helping women in the same position she’d been in. If anyone could get through to Elena, it was Aunt Veronica.

  I pushed through the double doors and found Mom at the stove, wooden spoon in her hand, glasses perched on top of her head. “Hey, sweetheart.” She smiled over her shoulder. “What are you doing in here?”

  I shrugged off my jacket, tossing over one of the chairs. “Helping you while Aunt Veronica talks to Elena.” I lifted the lid on one of the pans, only to have my hand swatted away.

  “What the hell?”

  “Don’t use that language on me.” She waved the spoon and I ducked. “No touching. I’m almost done. Go hang out with your brother and father.”

  “But I can’t go out there while they’re talking. Besides, I like helping.”

  “I know, but tonight let me do this. Make sure you’re there for that poor girl. Veronica won’t go easy on her.”

  I sighed. “She needs to hear it, Mom.”

  She put her hand on my arm. “And she’ll need someone’s shoulder to cry on when she understands how wrong it all is.”

  I rubbed at my hand and rested my hip against the cupboard, watching her work her magic. The woman really was a genius in the kitchen. The smells coming from whatever it was she was cooking made my mouth water but I kept my distance. I didn’t need another knock. We chatted back and forth for a while before I fell silent. My mom stopped what she was doing and stared at me, waiting for me to offload.

  “You think Aunt Veronica can work miracles?

  My mom was honest to a fault. “No. You’re probably going to have to help, but Veronica will make her see the truth. Overcoming it will take time.” She pointed to the door with the spoon. “Now go.”

  Laughing, I placed a kiss on her cheek, moving quickly before she swatted me away, grabbing my coat and throwing it over my shoulder. For a brief second I thought about heading to the living room, then I realized I needed to let
Aunt Veronica do what she could. Not wanting to interrupt the conversation, I turned away from the living room and walked toward my father’s office.

  Miller’s voice drifted down the hall. When I opened the door, they were all sitting around, drinking. Dad passed a glass to me the minute the door closed behind me.

  “Figure you could use it.”

  Taking a seat on the couch next to Miller, I took a sip of the whiskey, letting it burn its way down. “Why do you say that?”

  He scoffed. “After what Ronnie’s going to say and do, you’re going to have a crying woman on your hands.”

  My eyes darted to the door and back. The urge to go out there and listen was almost overpowering, but I fought it back and changed the subject. “Dad, why in the hell did you want me to take Elena to the game with me last Thursday?”

  He took a seat at his desk and leaned over the top. “For the same reason you want to run out of here and check on Elena.”

  “I don’t want—”

  “For fuck’s sake, Ashton, do not blow smoke up my ass. I could tell when you showed up that first day to tell me about her. You want her.”

  “Hell, I want her. She’s fucking gorgeous.” The vein at my temple throbbed at Miller’s words, images of him taking advantage of Elena running through my head.

  Oh hell no!

  Dad pointed his finger at Miller. “You, knock it off. I know you wouldn’t do anything, but right now your brother’s thinking about beating your ass into the ground.”

  Miller held his hands up in surrender. “Dude, can you blame me for noticing her. Holy hell, I’ve never seen her equal.”

  I had enough of Miller’s mouth and threw a punch to his arm, making him spill his drink on his pants.

  “Watch it, asshole.”

  Dad shook his head. “I warned you, Miller. Now go dry yourself off in the bathroom.”

  Grumbling, he stood and left the room. With his smart mouth gone, the tension finally flowed from my shoulders. “That still doesn’t answer my question. If you want me with her, then why send her with me to see what it is we do? I think she got enough of that when she ended up here with me, and Derrick Reynolds showing up the same night didn’t help.” I leaned forward, rolling the glass back and forth in my palms.