She needed to leave and let Ash deal with his band. The only problem was, she couldn’t trust himnotto chase her down.
She pointed an accusing finger at Ash’s bodyguard, Sam. “Isn’t it your job to protect them?”
“From fans, the press, and you, but not from each other. If they want to go at it like dogs, I’m paidnotto intervene.” He waved a hand. “And, here I thought, I was the only one who knew that trick. You’ve got my respect, Doc.”
She ignored Sam and turned to Ash. “What does he mean, paidnotto intervene?”
Ash extended a hand to Bash, who grudgingly accepted the help to stand.
Bash wobbled and fell against Ash but answered her question, “We get to beat each other up as much as we want. That’s what it means.” He gathered his balance. “Shit, what the fuck was that? Some juju move?”
“Its jujitsu,” she said. “I thought you were going to kill him.”
Bash put his hand to the back of his neck. “Just wanted to kick his ass. He went back on a promise.”
Ash clapped Bash on the shoulder. “I’ve been sober the whole time.”
“Then, how the fuck did you accidentally get married?”
Clutching at her chest, she took a step back.How indeed?
Ash’s bandmates faced her down as a unit.
How was she going to defuse this tension?
Thomas Tuttle, with his stiff suit, finally found his way to the men of Angel Fire. “You certainly know how to create a shitstorm, Blaze,” Tuttle said to Ash.
Ash’s jaw clenched, and his lips thinned. He tugged her to his side, a place he seemed to like her best.
“There are implications we need to consider.” Tuttle’s cold, hard eyes swept down her body, his lips twisting as he took in her baggy attire.
His dismissive appraisal had her feeling like yesterday’s trash. She hadn’t endured this much scorn in a very long time. She hadn’t liked it then, and she sure as hell didn’t like it now. Tuttle could shove his implications and that fancy suit up his ass.
“I’m not something that needs to be taken care of,” she said.
With a step to the side, she considered taking Tuttle out, but Ash pulled her back under his protective embrace.
“What are you suggesting?” Ash demanded.
Tuttle raised his hands in a gesture meant to soothe. “We must carefully evaluate what needs to happen next.” No threat came from those hands, but his deep-set eyes latched on to her, ready to take her down—or at least pry her away from his star.
Only she didn’t back down from the threat of men like him.
Not anymore.
“Like what?” Ash shifted his stance, tucking her behind him. He’d done the same thing with Spencer, shielding her from what he perceived to be a threat.
Tuttle continued his rasping words, “We’ll discuss this on the plane. You’ve missed rehearsals, and we need to prep for this weekend’s concert. I have an idea about what to do with…her.”
His dismissive wave had her curling her fingers into the muscles of Ash’s arm, digging in with her desire to rake Tuttle’s eyes out of his sockets.
“We’re not doing anything with Skye.” Ash lowered his voice, making his wishes clear. “She’s not a problem that needs handling.”
Although Ash echoed her thoughts, the entire situation threatened to spiral out of hand if she didn’t take charge.
Skye pressed her palm to Ash’s shoulder and whispered, “Ash, maybe we should talk.”
Ash pulled her some distance away, clutching her hand with a desperate hunger. “Don’t listen to him. We might have rushed into this, but that’s no reason to rush out of it.”
