As Dozer predicted, when I called the neighbor's son and asked to do a walk-through, he jumped on the chance. It took less than five minutes for me to see the same potential in the home. The offer was fair and eagerly accepted.
Now we face the political red tape, which means I have to tell Ashlyn sooner than expected.
My phone dings with a text, and the message eases my irritation.
Ashlyn- The pot filler is in and it's marvelous! Jill and Annie were here today. They offered to help with the kitchen this weekend. Landscapers arrived on time. The cleaners confirmed for Thursday.
I smile at her excitement. These messages have been coming frequently the last few days. With each new installation or finished product, she's going nuts.
Now that the pot filler is in place, tomorrow it's all hands on deck to finish the kitchen. Ashlyn and I have spent countless hours after the crews leave, going through top to bottom. Andi emailed Ashlyn our regular punch-list and gave her a new mission. Outside of minor items, things passed her inspection. Which puts us a few days ahead of schedule. Her bottom floor will be completed this weekend. And with a few more installations upstairs, the second floor will be ready next week.
Which means I can give her our first Christmas in her house.
Still, something doesn't feel right.
"Fuck it." I shove my laptop in its case and stuff the folders on the side. Sitting in the office all day is making me crazy.
"I'm running by a few sites this afternoon. You can catch me on my cell." I stop by Andi's office.
"Why don't you tell your assistant?" Her eyes stay on her computer as she replies sarcastically. "Oh yeah, because you haven't hired one in a year."
"Maybe next quarter."
"Heard that before." She twists her neck to face me, her grin openly suspicious. "Since you're heading out, there are some issues that need addressing. I'll email the list to you, and it will save me some time."
"Now who needs an assistant?"
"Smartass, once you clear up some of my crews this week, I'll have it all covered."
"Call me if you need me."
"Tell Ashlyn I said hello!"
When I get to my truck, the email from Andi comes through and I scowl at the list. No wonder she was grinning. Save her time my ass; this shit would take her all day.
I shoot her a text- Are you pawning off your work for the rest of the year?
Andi- Suck it up, you're slacking. Small issues at each site. You can handle it. These guys respond well to seeing the boss man.
Slacking? I drive out of the parking lot, turning toward the farthest job site in order to make my way back to Ashlyn.
By the third stop, I decide I'm done for the day. Andi was right. These are small issues, and the crews responded well to seeing me, but it's getting late and I have a surprise for Ashlyn.
My call to her goes straight to voicemail and that odd feeling returns, settling low in my gut. The closer I get to her house, my uneasiness grows. When I turn the corner, the first thing I spot is a sleek, shiny, black Jaguar parked next to her car. Not a work truck in sight.
Rental plates on the Jag.
I slam to a stop, my adrenaline spiking as I leap up the steps and punch the new code into the door. My eyes fly everywhere around the empty space.
"Ashlyn!" I roar, racing upstairs to find more emptiness and bound back down. "Ashlyn!" I yell again, rounding the hallway to her room.
Nothing.
That leaves only one option. I speed through to the back porch and stop dead. My vision goes blurry, then goes into a red haze at the man standing in the middle of the backyard, his hands in Ashlyn's hair, and his mouth locked on hers.
Brock Donner.
My heart hammers in my chest as possessive fury burns through my system. In less than a second, I'm across the porch, and kicking the door off its hinges at the same time Ashlyn shoves him off her.
"You asshole!" she seethes.
"Now, now—" He doesn't finish as my fist connects with his jaw with a loud crack and he's stumbling back.
"Get away from her, you motherfucker!" I rear back, ready to pound him until a soft hand clutches my elbow.
"Stop, please stop."
"What the fuck?"
Brock tilts his head, sizing me up with an evil smirk. "Who do we have here?"
Ashlyn's hand squeezes before it drops and she moves to stand in between us. Her expression is unnatural, her green eyes blank as they slide side to side. The blood searing in my veins goes to ice when she turns her back to me.
"He's my contractor." Her reply is curse and bitter.
"He better have a good lawyer when I slap his ass for assault."
"That won't be necessary. He's done after today."
"What the fuck?" I hiss again.
He arches back and roars, blood dribbling from his busted lip. The sound hangs in the air, fueling my already fevered fury.
"Oh, Ashlyn, I think we all know he's not only your contractor. Did you get so hard up you spread your legs for the hired help?"
I lunge forward, ready to tear him apart, only her body stops me. She flings her face to mine and all recognition is gone. In the wake of her brightness is a cold and hostile woman. She stands tall, defiance flaring in her glare before she faces him again.
"I'll be where I need to be."
Whatever else she says is drowned out by the spark shining like a beam on her left ring finger. A large diamond glistens in the porch lights. My heart speeds and lungs scald at the unmistakable meaning of the ring.
The red haze turns to primal, animalistic wrath. "What the fuck is that?"
Brock's evil laugh returns, satisfaction reeking from him. He knows exactly who I am. This was all for show, him thinking he's got me. "That is how a real man makes a statement."
A thunderous growl erupts, and I try to move her but she stands stone still, blocking me.
"Get out of here, you fucking asshole." She braces harder. "Or I'll let him rip you apart."
He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket, tapping his lip, then kisses his fingers and passes by, placing the kiss to her cheek on his way.
"You know where I'll be, fiancée. Let the lumberjack down easy. He seems wound up."
It's against everything in my soul to let him go, my heart and head fighting against each other.
Ashlyn stays braced until we hear the roar of the car leaving. Only then does she step away, her face white, her body quaking. She bows over, holding her sides.
"Ashlyn, what the hell is going on?"
She looks up at me with guilt and terror etched all over her. It's then I see the bruising around her left eye and cheekbone.
"I'm going back to Chicago." Is all she gets out before her eyes roll back and she crumbles to the ground.
Chapter 22
Ashlyn
My eyelids barely slit when my mind registers where I am. The events of what happened race through my brain. Brock showing unannounced, the slap, Miller's rage, me fainting. All of it unravels in my head like a nightmare. I swat my hair from my face and feel the cold metal swipe my skin.
My fingers go to the ring, yanking until I screech in pain. "Get off! Get off me."
"Tried, it's stuck until the swelling in your knuckle goes down," a rough voice cuts in.
I peer across the room; Miller is sitting in the chair farthest from mine. Anger, hurt, loathing all over him as he sips a glass of whiskey.
"How long have I been out?"
"About thirty minutes."
My body protests when I press up and get a good look at my hand. He's right. My knuckle is swollen and discolored, my finger slightly bent, a sharp sting when I put pressure on it.
"He broke my finger!" I gasp.
"Another reason I should have killed him."
"Miller," I start, then feel the pinch in my cheek.
"Yeah, you have a shiner, too." He gulps his whiskey, staring at me blankly.
"I think I need to explain."
> "Explain how that slick motherfucker shows up and greets you with a kiss in front of my crew? The same crew you whipped out the bitch for and sent home so you could be alone?"
I sink back into the sofa, wishing it would smother me. "It wasn't like that."
"Tell me what it was like because I have six men who have all told me the same thing when I called to ream their ass for leaving you alone with a stranger."
"I was going to handle him."
"How'd that work out for you?" A shiver runs up my spine at his frostiness.
"Things got out of hand."
"Really? Because one phone call to me or one word to my guys, and you'd have been protected until I could get my ass here."
"I didn't want to involve them or you. This was my fight."
He nods, taking another slug and swallowing slowly. "How'd he propose? Drop on a knee, telling you he worshipped you more than life, and the future you'd share would be full of love?"
"You know that's not what happened."
"It was more of a here's a ring so you can fuck my business associates for money?"
I flinch, my heart cracking at his force. "That wasn't necessary."
"No? Well, excuse my manners as I try to hold in the fucking rage that's ready to explode after finding you in the arms of another man. A man that put a ring on your finger, hit you, and yet you still held me back."
"He isn't worth you going to jail. That's what he was looking for was a fight. Any reason to press charges and put you behind bars to get more leverage over me."
Finally, there's an ounce of concern, but it dies quickly. "I'd have taken my chances against a bastard that hits you, injures you, and puts his mouth on you."
"I wasn't willing to take that chance!" I fight back.
"Have you been paying attention at all, Ashlyn? I've had your back since the day you breezed into town."
"This was me having yours!"
"Is that why you introduced me as the contractor? Are you embarrassed? Didn't want to admit to the high-powered son of a bitch how you'd fallen from grace?"
"No, no, no." I shake my head hastily. "Nothing like that. If he knew who you were to me, he'd go after your family. Threaten to strip you of everything."
He nods noncommittally. "You have that little faith that I can't stand up for myself?"
"You and your family don't deserve to be dragged through hell because of my terrible choices."
"You couldn't fucking call me?"
"I thought I had it handled!"
"The man tried to pimp you out for his own gain. What about that makes you think you can deal with his brand of low life?"
"Because I was that low life, too! That's who I was!"
"No, Ashlyn, it's not."
His use of my name cuts deep. No Princess, Darlin, Baby… just my name. Clinical on his lips.
"He wants me in Chicago to review this merger."
"Figured that out."
"I have to go."
"So you said."
"He's threatened everyone I love, and unless I go, he will destroy my family. Dry up my dad's business and taint Andrew's reputation as a consultant. If he knows our connection, he'll destroy Kendrick Construction and eventually go after Darby's partnership with Brasher."
"News flash, he strolled into your house, and he knew who I was and what I am to you. It was written all over his self-righteous ass. He was goading you. I'm not scared of him."
"But I can stop it."
"No one is asking you to sink to the depths of hell for us."
"It's my choice. It's my turn to do the right thing."
"And the ring?" He jerks his chin in revulsion at my hand.
"A ruse to show he claimed me so I'm no longer open game."
"You going to marry him?"
My whole body spasms, and I shake my head furiously. "NO! I didn't agree to this at all."
He stands, setting the glass on the table and not glancing my way as he disappears through the house, the back door shutting behind him. A minute later, he comes to sit, continuing to avoid my eyes as he takes my hand in his. He turns it palm side up and gently presses the area at my joint.
"Take a deep breath and hold it until I tell you to let it go."
I follow his instructions, watching as he slides a tool between my skin and the base, cutting the metal. He tosses the tool to the side and pries the ring off my finger. The blood circulates heavy, pumping through the swollen area.
"Thank you."
He still doesn't look at me, taking my other hand and dropping the heavy diamond. "Here."
He stands, backing away again, but I lunge toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist. "I'm sorry, Miller. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was about protecting you."
His hand goes to my hair, and I almost cry in relief when his lips touch my head. "You haven't been paying attention, Ashlyn. It's my job to protect you. None of this would have happened if you'd have trusted me to care for you. Today, you chose his control over your past to make your decision. He took you back to that place. If I was truly on your mind, you'd have trusted me."
With that, he steps out of my grip and leaves me with an ache so painful I wonder if my heart has splintered apart.
"Do you hate me?" my voice cracks.
The answer is the soft close of the door.
The impact of what he said sinks inside, and I wail out, curling into myself.
•—•—•—•—•
I wake alone on the couch, completely spent and weak from crying. Miller still isn't home. There's no telling where he is, but my heartbroken mood sets back in.
I'm such an idiot. He's right, I should have called him and relied on our strength together to deal with Brock.
This is no time to feel sorry for myself. It's time to get this disaster under control and get my life back on track. Brock Donner controlled my life once; he's not getting a second chance. I stand, my stomach cramping with emptiness, but the thought of food makes me queasy.
Get it together, Ashlyn. You've been through worse than this. Even as I think it, I know it's a lie. Nothing could be worse than losing Miller and letting Brock get his way. Neither of those things can happen. I get some water and almost choke mid-sip when I spot my key fob on the counter. My eyes fly to the back, and my car is parked in front of the garage.
Is it possible Miller came home and I slept through it? I drop the glass and run to the bedroom with the tiniest hope he's sleeping. The hope dies when I see the bed is made the way I left it yesterday morning. Looking around, everything is exactly as we left it.
Someone came with him to drop it off. My guess is he called Pierce, which means he and Darby probably know about my betrayal. More pain slashes through me at the inevitable possibility of disappointing more people.
I go to the bathroom, stripping and getting into the shower. The cold spray of the water shocks me fully awake, and my brain kicks into gear. As the water heats, a plan formulates in my mind, coming together easily. Every time I try to use my left hand, the sting of my finger reminds me of the weak woman Brock thinks he can manipulate.
By the time I've dried off, the old Ashlyn is back in place, this time with a new purpose. I dress quickly, doing the best I can with my hair and makeup, and go to find my phone.
Miller's voicemail answers on the first ring. "I'm sorry, Miller. I am so sorry. You have every right to be angry at me. It's selfish to ask you to understand, but the thought of you, my family, your family suffering because of me was inconceivable. It's a lame excuse, and I know the stupidity in cutting you out. I love you. Please call me."
My chest aches at his blow-off, but I bury it for another time. The next call is going to slash just as deep.
"Took you fucking twelve hours to come to your senses and call me?" Stephanie spouts bitterly. "You are lucky Todd has learned the art of rationalizing, or I'd have driven my ass down there and bitch-slapped your other cheek."
"He called you?" My knees give out, and I curl into Mill
er's favorite chair. The familiar scent of him settles around me.
"Of course he called me. He saw you in trouble and had enough intelligence to reach out for help. Something you seem to be incapable of."
"Ouch."
"If you're looking for sympathy, hang up and call me later. Right now, I want to know how the fuck you let that jackass storm in and bully you once again?"
"He threatened my family. It wasn't a run-of-the-mill threat either. There was determination and purpose. He knew where to go after me."
"Ashlyn, this will hurt, but it's time for some tough love. Did you think you'd walk away from a firm like Redmond and a man like Brock with no blowback? You're smarter than that. Assholes like him thrive on power. Regardless of his position when you first started, he saw a chance to build you as his weapon. In his mind, he made you who you are, and there's no escaping him. He probably has a full file on your life for the last few months. Egomaniacs rarely let their guard down."
"I was irresponsible to think it was all behind me." All the strength from a few minutes ago drains.
"No, it was irresponsible to keep it all in a vault and not share so those of us who care about you could have been watching what was happening."
"Stephanie," my voice cracks, "I swear to you, if I come out of this standing, you can whip me all you like. But I'm hanging on by a thread. I was stupid."
There's a rustling on her end, and Todd's voice is muffled, sounding equally pissed as hers. "Maybe you were stupid, but I'd like to think of it as wishful."
"I have to go to Chicago. As much as I hate it, Brock has won."
"Hell yes, you are going to Chicago! But that ass will not win. When does he expect you?"
"He wanted me to return with him today."
"Pretentious bastard."
"I know and figured I'd go after Christmas."
"That's too long. Can you be on a plane tomorrow morning?"
"Tomorrow? Why so soon?"
"You need to crush them, shut this extortion down, and leave it all behind. The one positive thing that's happening here is when you let us in on what was happening, I could wade in."
"What are you talking about?"
"Once I found out what was going on at the firm, I turned it over to the expert. Scottie hasn't let up. I gave him free rein to look into Redmond, Kersh, and Reid with all resources available. That man has enough to ruin even the cleanest of employees at that firm with guilt by association. So yes, you are taking your ass to Chicago."
Miller's Time (Southern Charmers Series Book 2) Page 25