"Can't you see I’m sick?" I coughed before another round of vomit rose up. At least I managed to stop myself from crying. That was due to the large amount of anger I had swirling in my gut. Clayton just wanted to destroy his brother for no other reason than existing.
He grabbed my hair, and not in a nice "I'll hold your hair for you" sort of way. The man gripped my head so hard ,it craned my neck back while vomit was still dribbling out of my mouth.
"Get the recording, Veda. Or I'll tell the entire board I paid you to have sex with me… And who will believe you then? I have the bank transaction records… Or would you like me to tell Asher what really happened? He seems to be going gaga over you now. Is that why he's gotten sober? You?"
I slapped his hand away and used the same gross napkin to wipe my mouth again. "Keep your hands off me," I hissed, just as the door swung open and Asher walked out.
I heard the monotone drone of a male voice inside the room momentarily as he walked into the hallway and shut the door behind himself. Then he approached us both as Clayton backed away, shifting his expression to look casual.
"What's going on?" Asher asked in a concerned tone.
"I, uh…" I floundered. Clayton had the power to destroy me and Asher both. Now, with Asher battling to stay sober, one wrong thing could set him back. He'd relapse. I was playing with fire and I knew Clayton wouldn’t hesitate to burn me.
"She was sick…" Clayton gestured at the trash can. "I offered to hold her hair…"
So disgusting. I almost punched that sick jerk.
"Are you okay?" Asher asked, turning away from his brother, and the tears welled up faster than I could stop them.
I was never in any real physical danger from Clayton, but this tender flame between me and Asher was. Clayton intended to douse it the very first instant he could, and I couldn’t stop him. The train was barreling toward destruction, all the while I kept clinging to some stupid illusion that I could be happy with a man I was paid to destroy.
"I'm okay…"
"She's obviously sick," Clayton interjected. "Might need her Daddy to fix it…" That word sent a jolt of panic through me.
Had he read my lips?
Did he know Asher's kink?
Was he just pushing any old button to see if I'd crack under pressure? I had no idea. And I hated this game he was playing.
"Get lost," Asher snarled, and Clayton walked away chuckling.
Asher didn't seem fazed by the comment other than to be a little angry, but it had me shaking from the inside out.
When his attention was fully on me, and his brother was back inside the room, he said, "Really, Veda. Are you okay?"
"It was the shrimp…" I blurted out. "I just feel sick. I want to go home."
Asher's hand cradled my cheek. "Did he hurt you? Are you okay? Is something going on?"
"No… just sick," I lied. "He really did just ask to hold my hair, and I don’t want people to touch me."
His hand pulled back, painfully so. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted his arms around me and his body against mine, and his heart to be forever mine. But it was a daydream.
No matter how much Asher loved me. No matter how badly either of us wanted this to work. The only thing in store for us was pain.
Clayton would see to that.
"Go home… I'll come by with some soup after work." Asher pressed a kiss to my forehead, melting me, before he walked back to the door. When he got there he turned and said, “Stay away from Clayton, baby. He’s really bad news, alright?”
All I could do was walk away crying.
I loved him. Truly, madly, deeply, I loved him. And I could never have him.
The choices I had made had ruined any chance I had with him and I knew it.
And I had to figure out how to get myself out of this mess the least painful way possible, because if Asher relapsed over what Clayton and I had schemed up, I'd never forgive myself.
