I caught sight of myself in the mirror and decided it was probably better if I put a shirt on, for Jenny’s sake. I didn’t like sleeping in one, but I didn’t want her to freak out again. I grabbed one of the pillows off my bed and walked back out to the living room.
She had taken the smaller of the two couches, the loveseat. She was already stretched out on her back watching me as I came out of my room and took the other couch. I had slept there before. Usually, if I was drunk enough, I didn’t make it all the way to the bedroom. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it was big enough, but people slept on couches when they didn’t have beds or fell asleep watching Game of Thrones. This was a better reason that both those things.
I turned the television on and flipped through the channels for something to make noise so the room wasn’t totally silent. I wasn’t sure she wanted to talk, and I didn’t know what to say, anyway. She fell asleep after about ten minutes of Adult Swim.
I sat quietly doing the line work on a big, custom back piece. Jerry was this trust fund kid from Newport who’d come to LA to get his ink from me. We had been going over what he wanted for months. It was a black and gray heaven and hell scene. Angels above, demons below. Renaissance style. Soft blending and fine lines.
He sat like a rock. Besides what ink he liked, I didn’t talk to him much. He tended to nap while getting tattooed which was impressive, given the pain that came with the big pieces. He was napping just then in fact. I hadn’t gotten to his ribs yet; that would wake him up. I’d been icing my hand all morning because I didn’t remember using it to hit Ryan the night before that it was how I made my living. It was sort of sore, but not bad enough to knock me off my game.
Mal was wrapping up a walk in who’d been lucky to catch her before she left for lunch. I pretended not to notice as she walked up and stood over me, watching me work.
“Heaven and hell?” she asked. I grunted in response. “You good Jerry?” she asked him.
“He’s asleep. What do you want Mal?” I asked, stopping my machine and wiping.
“What happened to your little runaway? Freeway princess,” she asked, earning chuckles from Devon and Jun.
“Who?” I asked, playing dumb.
“The hitchhiker you had here yesterday. Where’d she go? Back out on the road?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know? Have any of you talked to Ryan today?”
“Where is she? You take her home? I thought she was Ryan’s girl. Did you tag-team her?”
“Shit, Mallory, I’d think you were jealous if I didn’t know better,” I said, matching her shit-eating grin. “I know it’s always been your dream to get spit-roasted by Ryan and me.”
“Really, Ash, where is she?” she asked again. “Is she with Ryan?”
“I don’t know where Ryan is. I left her at home,” I said.
“Your home?” Jun asked.
“Yeah.”
“Alone?” he said in disbelief.
“What, were you going to volunteer to babysit her for me?” I asked.
“You left some girl you picked up on the side of the street alone in your house?” he asked, turning to face me.
“I didn’t pick her up off the side of the street,” I said, looking back down at the tattoo. “Ryan did. Have any of you spoken to him today?”
“You think she’ll still be there when you get back?” he asked. I shrugged.
“Maybe,” I said lightly. “Maybe not. She isn’t tied to the bed.”
“Maybe you should have tied her to the bed,” Jun said. “You’ll either find her there with more of her vagabond friends she invited to eat and shower, or you’ll find no girl and an empty apartment.” I laughed.
“You think she’ll clear me out?”
“You’ve given her plenty of time to do it if she wanted to,” he said. Jerry lurched into wakefulness feeling the needle pass over his ribs. He didn’t have a lot of fat on him; it was practically skin over bone.
“Long as she doesn’t touch my tattoo machines, I’m good,” I said nonchalantly. She had slept in pretty long that morning. I’d gone out and bought some stuff for breakfast leaving it there when she still hadn’t woken up when I was leaving. And a note. I had left a note too. I hadn’t told her where they were, but she’d even find Ryan’s keys if she looked hard enough. I mean, what was I supposed to do? I didn’t want to bring her here again because Ryan would show up. I didn’t want to wake her because I figured getting attacked like that probably took it out of you.
Nowhere to go, right? Now she had somewhere. Would I find her when I got back? Of course, I would. Where would she go? I didn’t want her to leave. I felt sort of responsible for her after what had happened. I wasn’t even staying the whole day. I was doing four hours with Jerry, and then I was going back. She’d be fine. I hoped.
Seeing her crumpled up and helpless had turned my stomach. I’d felt the weird, strong urge to protect her. I still felt it. I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since I’d left the house.
“Where is Ryan?” I asked changing the subject.
“Don’t know,” said Mal, “didn’t come in today. I figured he would be with you. Didn’t he show up last night?” I shrugged because I didn’t feel like telling them what had happened. It wasn’t to protect Ryan because that I would not be keeping a secret. That was fucking gross. It made me sick. Had he done that before? No, I wasn’t worried about what the guys at the shop would think. It was because I didn’t think Jenny would want me to say anything. It had happened to her, not me.
“Does this mean you finally fired him?” Dev asked hopefully.
“How can you fire him when he’s hardly working here in the first place?” Jun sniped. I rolled my eyes and turned the machine back on. They had been begging me to get rid of Ryan since he had shown up.
After last night, his ass was out. He was shit at the job, but I never wanted to see him again. You had to be a special kind of asshole to do that to someone. And I didn’t need that asshole at my shop.
6
Felicity
Too much. Too much. Too far. I’d pushed it, and I’d pushed it, and I’d pushed it too far. That point at which my luck ran out and the reality of my situation set in? Yeah, I was there. This wasn’t funny anymore. This was no longer one young woman’s jaunt around the sunny southwest.
This was real.
This was me, checked out of rehab, miles away from home, in a strange man’s house where another strange man had tried to rape me the night before.
Could I tap out? Was that an option? Where was my eject button? Abort mission. Abort mission. Bitch, you’re going to die here, what the hell were you thinking checking out in the first place? You were a nervous wreck before you went to Arizona, which was why they sent you there in the first place. What are you, twelve days into treatment? There’s a reason they make you stay at least a month.
I was panicking. I looked around the apartment. It suddenly felt like it was too small. The walls made me feel smothered instead of secure. I felt clammy, and sweat poured from my pores. I could feel myself breathing, but the air wasn’t getting where I needed it to be. I wanted to open a window, but I didn’t trust myself not to try to fly from it.
This had been a terrible mistake. I was sick and unstable—that isn’t the sort of person you let run wild on their own. That isn’t the kind of person who can take care of themselves. My mind was racing. I thought of everything I knew that could make it stop—all those bad things I would do to myself to make it okay until the next time I felt it.
I wanted to hide. I was back on the sofa that I had slept on trying not to lose my mind about what was happening, and I was alone with nothing but some cold Danishes and a note saying he would be back early to check on me to comfort me. I had attempted to eat, watch television and go back to sleep unsuccessfully since I’d gotten up. I couldn’t think about anything but how scared I was. How had this gone so far and so wrong? Why hadn’t I had a better read on the sort of guy Ryan was? What the hell would have
happened if Asher was not home and didn’t hear me when I screamed?
I heard a bang at the front door and jumped. I heard what sounded like someone trying to unlock it. I bolted for the master bathroom, locking myself inside, as far as I could get from the door. What if it was him, I thought, what if he was here to finish the job?
I started crying. I was petrified. I was alone, and someone was coming inside. I could remember his boozy breath on my face and neck, his weight above me, restraining me painfully, him sneering when I cried and begged him to stop. Maybe he’d kill me instead. I sank to the floor and buried my face in my knees to stop myself from shaking. I could hear him walking around out there. I held my breath, thinking he could hear me.
“Jenny?” he called. He said it again. Was he here with someone? Did he bring some person named Jenny? Who was-
I shook my head realizing he was calling me. I was Jennifer, but my friends called me Jenn. How long was that going to last? He was still calling me, but I didn’t want to face him just then. I turned the shower on and stayed quiet, waiting for him to walk by. I heard his footsteps stop outside the door and him knock a few times.
“Jenny?” he said.
“Yeah?” I answered carefully.
“It’s me, Asher. Are you alright in there?”
“I’m in the shower,” I said stupidly, not knowing what else to say. It was him, I thought, relieved. Not him.
“Come to the living room when you’re done,” he said. I said I would and contemplated actually taking a shower. I hadn’t since he’d left me. I needed one. I spotted a towel I chose to believe was clean and peeled my clothes off carefully and stood under the water. I let the water flow over my hair and hoped he had conditioner. I spotted a two-in-one shampoo and conditioner combo on the little shelf. It would have to do. I was going to smell like a dude when I was done. So be it. Better than smelling like twenty-four plus hours of unwashed.
I finished quickly and wiped myself down with the towel feeling a lot better and mostly back to normal. I didn’t want to put the dirty clothes back on so I wrapped myself tightly in the towel and thought of an action plan. I had left my bag in the living room near where I had slept. I had to get back there. I crept out of the bathroom and into the master bedroom.
I had been too wound up initially to notice the furnishings. Simple with minimal color. White linen, no drapes since we were a ways up, one bed stand and a television mounted on the wall. It reminded me of a hotel room a little.
Leaving my clothes there, I peeked into the small hallway to see whether he was there. He wasn’t. I crept out and padded quietly to the entryway that would put me in the living room. He was nowhere in sight. Confident, I scuttled out to my bag, crouching to the ground to look for clothes. I would have to visit a laundromat soon.
I was frowning at the pair of cutoff shorts that I had in my luggage but was banned from wearing on the ranch because above the knees shorts were prohibited. Too skimpy. I was about to stuff them back in the bag when I heard footsteps coming towards me.
Why hadn’t I just grabbed the whole bag and ran for it? I panicked, stuffing clothes back in my bag and trying to stand up while holding it. Unfortunately, if I was holding the bag, I couldn’t hold my towel in place. It dropped unceremoniously to the ground as Asher walked into the living room. He looked at me, surprised before a smirk pulled at the corner of his lip.
I clutched the bag to my body, hiding what I could, which was strictly the essentials—nips and pussy.
“Don’t mind me,” he said, “you did sleep here last night. I guess it sort of is your bedroom.” I blushed a crimson red.
“I was trying to get changed.”
“You need a hand? You didn’t do a very good job,” he said. I looked down to make sure I wasn’t flashing him. When I looked up, he was coming towards me. I froze. “You know what? I think I like this better,” he said. “You want me to drop trou too so it isn’t weird?” he teased.
“Could you please give me my towel?” I asked, remembering my duffel had been on the side of a desert road and hadn’t had the chance to clean up with me in the shower. It was filthy.
“But then you’d cover up,” he said. “I don’t want that.” The grin on his face was infuriating but also very nice. He looked almost boyish, cheeky. I looked at him, realizing he was going to make this hard for me either way. Well. Fuck it. I dropped the bag to my side, abandoning the only thing obscuring my body from his sight. His eyes immediately widened like he hadn’t expected me to do it. I quickly picked my towel up and turned on my heel back into the hallway and into his bedroom before I quickly shut the door and locked it.
Whoa. What was that? I know, I was surprised too. I could count the number of men I had been naked with on one and a half hands. I guess Jenny was an exhibitionist. He had been taunting me. What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and take it? God, that was so disrespectful. I didn’t know if he was married, had a girlfriend. I’d flashed him.
He was a lot more intense the other times I’d talked to him. What changed? Was he attracted to me or was he just teasing me because he saw I was uncomfortable? Whichever it was, I didn’t think I cared because I thought he was exceptionally hot. Any reciprocation was highly appreciated. Three guys in the last two days—that was a personal record. I did well down here. What was it? The post-rehab glow?
I dug around in my luggage for clean clothes. My search turned up panties, a bra, and the sweatshirt which could survive another wear and nothing for bottoms but the shorts. I scowled pulling them on. They fit like a glove, but they weren’t much of an improvement from being butt naked just minutes ago. My ass hung out the back but only a little. Enough to still get away with it. I pulled off the bandage over my navel and got rid of it. The piercing stung a little but looked cute. At least one good thing had happened the day before.
I thought about Asher outside. Lewd comments aside, I felt like he was safe. He had gotten rid of that other guy, and he’d spent the night in the living room with me. He didn’t make me nervous. No. Lie. He did make me nervous; it was just in a different way than Ryan had. I walked back into the living room. He was standing there putting a pizza box on the coffee table in the middle of the room.
“Hungry?” he asked genially. I could smell the pizza. Yeah, I was hungry. I had only eaten the cheesy filling out of the danish he had left me for breakfast. “Come. Sit,” he said. I slid onto the sofa, folding my legs under me self-consciously. “Nice shorts,” he quipped, sitting next to me. He handed me a plate. I smiled tightly. So, the gentleman act was just that—an act.
He put a slice of pizza on the plate he was holding and handed it to me, taking my empty plate and serving himself a slice.
“You alright?” he asked. “I mean, after last night?”
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
“He won’t bother you again,” he said seriously. I nodded looking down at my slice. “So, what’s the plan?” he asked.
“The plan?”
“Was LA your destination or a pit stop?”
“Are you kicking me out?” I asked.
“No. But if we’re going to be roommates, you have to start picking up half the rent, or at least the utilities,” he said jokingly.
“Can’t do that without a job. Do you know anywhere that’s hiring?” I asked.
“Still nowhere to go, huh?” he said. “What happened? How’d you get here?”
“I hitched a ride,” I said vaguely. “You know that. Ryan told you.”
“We’ve spent the night together, and I’ve seen you naked. I think we can be a little more open than that.” Mischief glinted in his eyes, but shockingly, the statement didn’t sound predatory coming from him. It sounded teasing like he was ribbing me a little. Maybe even flirting. I mean… fine, if that was the game he wanted to play.
“I haven’t seen you naked. I don’t think I’d be comfortable telling you all that until I have,” I said. He smirked, which was the response I had hoped for. I hope
d he would pull his shirt off, but he didn’t. I mean if he was going to give it, he had to take it. I had never flirted this hard with anybody, ever. But this was different. I wasn’t at home. Nobody knew who I was. I wasn’t even me as far as I was concerned. Lissa wouldn’t have hitchhiked out somewhere she didn’t know and flashed a stranger. It was oddly freeing not feeling limited by myself and the behavior I expected myself to have. To him, I was Jenny from an unspecified small town. She did this sort of thing all the time. I was going to milk this for all it was worth.
“Once I get it out, you have to do something with it,” he said.
“Down boy. At least buy me dinner first,” he laughed at that, making me smile.
“You popped up in front of my shop out of nowhere. I don’t usually take in strays, but I might make an exception.” I raised my eyebrows. Was that an offer? “Where do you come from?”
“My family’s from Seattle,” I said.
“You’re a long way from home. How’d you get to Arizona?” he asked. Vacation. Visiting a sick aunt. I wanted to see the desert. I had any number of excuses to choose from, but I didn’t want to tell him a lie… another lie. Not about that. After the night before and Ryan, I didn’t feel right keeping this particular secret.
“I was there at the Bermuda Rehabilitation Center for Women and Girls,” I said quietly looking him square in the eye. “They doped me up good and sent me on my way.” He frowned.
“Rehab? What for?” Was that question rude? How did you just ask that when someone told you something like that? You were opening yourself up to all sorts of horrible answers. Was he sure he wanted to know?
“Nothing they don’t make a pill for,” I said cheerily instead of major depression, suicidal ideation, and grief. “When my program wrapped up, I decided to take the scenic route home.”
“Through LA?” he asked. I shrugged. Okay, so, not the whole truth, but not a complete lie either. I didn’t know what I was doing in LA, but I knew I didn’t want to go home. He didn’t need the whole dirty truth about rehab. I honestly wasn’t ready to actually tell anyone.
Asher (Heartbreakers & Troublemakers Book 6) Page 5