Thank you, kickboxing classes.
“Fuck,” he roars as I let him go, and he falls to the floor.
“You willneverlay a finger on me again. Is that understood?” I’m hovering over him, his height not much of a concern now that he’s curled up on the floor in the fetal position, his face twisted in agony.
“You fucking bitch. I’m gonna put your ass in jail so fas?—”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because there’s another loud bang and what sounds like glass breaking. My eyes fly to the front, just in time to see a hand snake through a jagged hole and unlock the door, which opens a second later. I blink once, and Ashton is in front of me, his concerned eyes scanning me for any signs of injury.
“Are you okay?” he grits out. “I’m so sorry. It was locked and…I tried to get to you.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him. I’m not entirely sure I am, but now is not the time to let my defenses down.
“You won’t be…fuck,” Craig moans as he tries to sit up. He manages to open his eyes and I recoil at the literal nightmare staring back at me. The angry red splotches in the whites of his eyes have started to spread to the skin around them, creating scarlet bruises above his lids. “You won’t be fine when you’re locked the fuck up. Bet you won’t even be able to make bail,” he spits.
Ashton slowly turns his attention from me to the sorry sack of shit still writhing on the floor. “What did you just say?”
His tone is calm, but there’s a slight edge to it.
“She fucking attacked me. Didn’t you see?”
Emory once told me about a time when Luke and Ashton almost got into a fistfight because of amisunderstanding. In other words, Luke was being his usual possessive self. At the time, I cackled, unable to even imagine Ashton in a fight, let alone with Luke Collins, who was essentially a backup bouncer at a rowdy New York bar for years. But Emory said Ashton held his own. When Luke threatened him, his eyes went all dark and he had this tone she had never heard before. Luke backed down immediately. I’ve never seen Ashton respond in that way to anything.
Until now.
Something stirs in my chest as he walks slowly over to where Craig is still lying on the floor, his attempts at standing up having been unsuccessful. Ashton crouches down, placing his forearms on his thighs.
“Seems like you’re not really in a position to be making threats right now, buddy.” He speaks in a high-pitched voice as if he’s explaining to a five-year-old why he can’t have any more candy.
“But she?—”
“I did see,” Ashton answers his earlier question. “I saw how you tried to assault an employee of mine, and I saw how she defended herself.”
A dumb look passes across Craig’s face. “Why do you even care? Your family is one of the wealthiest in the county. She’s fucking trash.”
Ashton’s jaw clicks, his eyes turning the deepest shade of liquid amber as he laughs softly to himself. “You’re right. My family is wealthy. And powerful. So that means…” He snaps his fingers in front of Craig’s face when his bloated gaze lands on me and continues speaking when Craig looks back at him. “Thatmeans it would be really fucking easy for me to ruin your entire career with one phone call.” He turns to me, his expression softening for a moment before looking back at Craig. “If you contact anyone about tonight, lawyers, police—anyone, I will make that phone call, Craig. You will never own, work in, or even see the inside of another restaurant. Is that what you want?”
Craig looks between me and Ashton. Well, “looks”is generous. More like his eyes turn up, sliding painfully behind his swollen lids. “You’re fucking her,” he announces.
Ashton’s eyes somehow get even darker as he stands up and rakes a hand through his hair. Ignoring Craig’s accusation, he calmly walks over to a nearby desk and grabs a scarf that’s hanging off the back of someone’s chair. He starts wrapping it around his other hand, and that’s when I see the blood dripping from his palm.
“That’s none of your business and it doesn’t answer my question,” he says as he returns to Craig. “No lawyers. No police. Unless Allie decides to press charges, in which case you will stay quiet and accept your punishment. Do we have an understanding? Or would you rather deal directly with her? It didn’t seem like she was completely done with you before I came in.”
Craig twists in his spot, obvious pain running through hisbody. “Whatever. Just get me out of here. You’re both fucking insane.”
“I’d love nothing more than for you to get out of my office,” Ashton says as he extends his uninjured hand. Craig reluctantly takes it, but as Ashton pulls him up, he brings him closer and whispers something in his ear. I don’t catch what he says, but Craig nods slightly as he limps toward the door.
“Oh, and Craig?” Ashton calls out, stopping the man in his tracks. “If I ever see you near her again, I won’t stop at you. I’ll go after your whole fucking family.”
Craig shakes his head, muttering something about “psycho journalists” as he takes his phone out of his pocket, presumably to call for a ride home…or to the hospital. Either way, I don’t really care. What has my attention is the man who just put his reputation on the line to stand up for me. The man who took my side without a second thought. The man who was willing to let me finish the job if Craig didn’t comply.
The man who put his hand through fucking glass to get to me.
17
ASHTON
I digmy hand into my pocket to find my watch, rubbing my thumb back and forth against the smooth copper surface. It’s warm and sturdy, and the repetitive motions help to calm my erratic heartbeat. I can still feel the stickiness beneath the scarf covering my other hand, making my stomach churn and my vision blur.
