“I need to take care of this.”
“What does that mean?”
He’s silent and his gaze seems to be looking anywhere but at me.
“Asher, what are you saying?” I demand.
“I need to take care of Sergei and Yegor once and for all, and I need you safe while I do what needs to be done.”
My stomach sinks, understanding all too well everything he’s not saying.
“I’m not going anywhere without you.” My tone is hard and leaves no room for argument.
Asher’s eyes are filled with regret as he takes my face in his hands. He brushes his thumb along my lower lip. “I love you,” he whispers.
“I . . . I love you too,” I choke out. “But I don’t like this. Whatever it is you’re doing, whatever you have planned . . . please, Asher. Don’t push me away.”
Asher’s lips meet mine, and he kisses me hard. His hands thread through my hair, and he pulls me so close there’s not an inch of space between us. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him tight.
The kiss turns almost manic, and panic rises inside me as I can practically feel the resignation and anxiety pouring off Asher. I latch onto him harder, praying I’m wrong. Hoping I’m making this all up.
I gasp as a bitter tang hits my tongue, shocking me. I pull away.What is that?
A moment later, I blink as stars form in front of my eyes, and I grow light-headed.
Asher pulls away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then he takes a napkin out of his pocket and wipes his mouth again.
“What did you do?” I ask, and the words are slightly garbled in my mouth. My tongue is heavy, and my face is starting to prickle with numbness.
“I did what needed to be done.”
“No!” I rasp out, clutching his arms. I start to sway on my feet. Asher wraps his arms around me and holds me tight, and the last minute of his actions clicks into place. He brushed something onto my lips . . . then kissed me to make sure it got into my mouth. “You . . . drugged . . . me.”
“I’m sorry, Ella. I wish it hadn’t come to this.”
“How . . . why?”
“I love you. That’s why.”
“No, Asher. I . . . don’t want . . . to be . . . with-without you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. Please.”
“I love you.”
The world turns black.
38
ELLA
My body feels heavy, as if it’s been compressed beneath the weight of something I can’t actually feel, but that something holds me down anyway. My eyes flutter. My fingers twitch. I can’t connect my mind to my body to force it do what I want it to, and it’s frustrating bordering on maddening. Before I can fight the exhaustion inside me, I fall back down into oblivion.
At some point later, I hear low murmurs of voices I faintly recognize. I’m jostled and carried, but I can’t form the questions to ask where I am or what’s going on. And again, I slip into darkness before I can find answers.
Finally, after what feels like too much time and no time at all, my eyes manage to open. They’re so heavy it takes all my concentration to force them to stay that way. My mouth is raw and dry, my lips are chapped, and I’m so thirsty it’s almost painful. Slowly, I push myself to sitting. It takes my brain too long to register my surroundings, and then a moment longer to believe them. I rub my heavy eyes and look around again.
