I didn’t even know about him untilafterMom married Clyde. But once Asher showed up,he showed up.
Clyde told him in no uncertain terms that he’d kill my mom if Asher kept hanging around us, so he backed off. Mom got really depressed when that happened, and not long after, she was killed. Asher reachedout to me when Clyde wasn’t around, telling me that if I ever needed anything, I should go to him.
He was in the hospital when I woke up from surgery on my leg. I never found out for sure, but I’m reasonably certain hepaid the billfor my surgery. Clyde never mentioned any payments, but if my stepfather had dropped thousands of dollars on me, I never would’ve heard the end of it.
“Asher,” I say slowly, “is there something I should know?”
It’s the wrong time to have this discussion. I’m a few hours out from meeting with a legendary bratva boss, and the legion is here. We need to get our weapons and our shit together. I don’t want to have it out right now, but I can’t help myself. I’m seeing things I was too close to see before, and now I have to know.
“Yeah,” Asher says quietly. “I think youdoalready know, sweetheart.”
I swallow hard. His lack of denial is enough to tell me the truth. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
He shrugs, looking away. Connor and Seamus busy themselves perusing the selection of guns, while Dorian stays right by my side, squeezing my hand.
“Because your mother and I split for a good reason.”
“That reason being?”
He sighs. “My drug habit. After I left the Marines, shit got difficult. I didn’t know who I was or what to do. I was traumatized and did not know how to cope with my PTSD. Your mom got pregnant, and I was hooked on shit nobody should be hooked on, so she left. By the time I pulled my head out of my ass and was ready to show up, she’d already remarried. Clyde would’ve sooner killed her than let hergo, so that was that.”
My lips twist. A million emotions swarm through me like a buzzing, angry nest of wasps, so quick and jumbled that I can’t make a single one out. Knowing this years ago would’ve been helpful. Knowing that Itrulywasn’t alone… it would’ve given me the strength to leave sooner. It’s unreasonable, but I can’t help but feel like Asher literally left me for the wolves.
He seems to read my mind, because he says, “When I threatened to go to court for custody after your mother’s death, Clyde said he’d kill you before giving you away. I believed him, so I stayed on the sidelines. But I was always watching. I had your back.” His head lowers. “I couldn’t have the spotlight, so I did what I could from the shadows. I got you out of here, which was the best gift I could give you.”
“You should’ve told me,” I admonish faintly, feeling my eyes sting with tears. “You really should’ve told me, Asher.”
“I know. But doing so would’ve put you in danger, which I couldn’t bear. I’m sorry.”
“Touching as this moment is, we’ve got shit to do,” Connor says drily. “You gonna help or not?”
“Of course I will.” Asher stares right at me as he says the words. “I’ll always help you when you need it.”
I force down the emotions bubbling in my throat. It’s not the time or place. We can unpack this when there aren’t trafficking rings to be dismantled and people to be killed. “Right, then. Let’s get to it.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Asher takes us down to the basement, where he has an almost unimaginable arsenal of weapons stockpiled in a vault. The vault itself, hidden behind a nondescript bookshelf, is made of cold, unyielding steel. Its interior is a chaotic array of lethal tools. Steel shelves lined with sleek rifles and handguns. Blades of every size and shape glint menacingly from their mounts, while crates of explosives sit ominously against the walls. It looks as though Asher is entangled in his own shadowy dealings—or perhaps preparing to single handedly fight World War III.
“Cozy,” Seamus remarks. “Any chance you can explain why you’ve got so many weapons, mate?”
“Call me mate again and find out what it’s like to live without precious limbs,” Asher says flatly. “As for the weapons… well. Once a Marine, always a Marine.”
“Surprised you don’t have a section for crayons,” Seamus quips with a sly grin.
Asher glowers at him but doesn’t respond.
“What if we had Sergei meet us here?” I suggest. “He could have his pick.” I look at Asher. “If you’re okay with it.”
Asher shrugs. “I’m not against currying favor with Sergei Novikov. Especially when he means tofinallyend the people who got away withhurting you.” His jaw tightens. “I should’ve done that a long time ago.”
“You couldn’t do it alone,” I say. “You were outnumbered three dozen to one.”
“I’ve fought worse odds and lived,” Asher tells me, a note of sorrow in his tone. There’s turmoil swimming in his eyes, accompanied by a wealth of regret. I release Dorian and wrap my arms around Asher, hugging him again. That should’ve been another giveaway in my youth; I was never big on hugs or anything touchy-feely, but I always enjoyed the warmth and strength of Asher’s embrace. If I’d paid attention, I would’ve seen the signs everywhere.
“Thank you for having my back and doing what you could,” I murmur. “I’m angry that I didn’t know sooner, but glad I know now.”
I don’t know what this means for the future—I have no clue how my relationship with Asher will change or evolve,ifit will. But my gut tells me that he’s going to start showing up a lot more, and I am more than okay with that.
