Chapter 11
Criminal
MyhandstrembleasI stare at the reflection in front of me. I don’t know what I’m doing. All I know is I can’t stay like this. Daisy is no longer here. I have no clue who I am. I didn’t sleep a wink last night, tossing and turning, my conversation with Jagger invading my thoughts. They’re all right, I was brought up to be this perfect little princess. The ideal wife — but that’snot me at all. That was a part I was playing to keep my family happy and safe and to stop Valentine from lashing out at me and making my life worse than it already was.
I pick up the scissors I swiped from the kitchen drawer over breakfast and pull out a section of long hair, slicing through it. Dark locks, like a raven’s glossy feathers, drift down to the cold tile floor. I take another thick section and cut again, my movements becoming more frantic until there’s more hair on the floor below me than left on my head.
“What the fuck, princess?” Asher’s voice comes from behind me.
But I don’t stop. I can’t, not until it’s all gone. Tears stream down my cheeks, hot and desperate. I don’t know when they started.
Asher’s grip is firm as he wraps his hands around mine, seizing the scissors. “What are you doing?” He tucks the scissors into his jeans pocket, confiscating them. His hands come back to mine, and he grips them tightly.
I take a step away from him. “What does it matter?” I shriek, apparently having completely lost the plot this morning.
“You’re sobbing, while attacking your beautiful hair. It matters.” He forces a smile, I think for me because I can see it’s not genuine.
“You can’t fix this, Ash. Just give them back to me so I can finish what I started,” I spit back at him, the anger bubbling up inside of me spilling over.
His eyes darken to a Jagger level of scary. This is the only time they look alike, when he’s pissed with me. “No fucking chance in hell.” He closes the gap between us, caging me in against the counter as he takes my face in his hands, gazing down at me. With his thumbs, he brushes the tears away. “What’s going on, princess?”
I stare up at him, his scent overwhelming me in the best way. Even when he’s angry with me and I’m a raging mess, his presence is a comfort. “She’s gone, Ash. Dead. Destroyed by her own family,” I choke out, tears getting the better of me and streaming down my cheeks.
“I know, princess.” He sighs heavily, finally understanding.
My bottom lip trembles. “I can’t be her anymore. I need to be someone else. Anyone else.”
His eyes close for a split second as if he’s in pain, then he nestles me into his chest, kissing the top of my head. “I have a friend who can fix this. I’ll call her.”
I catch a glimpse of my reflection again. It’s a total mess, chunks unevenly taken out all over. “No one can fix this.” I cry harder. Anyone would think a terrible self-inflicted haircut is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, when that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“You would be surprised. This chick can do anything with a pair of snips and some make-up.” He collects up his phone, still pinning me in close to his body as if he’s scared I’ll do something stupid if he lets me move. “I need a favor,” he says into the phone.
“Anything for you, Ash,” the girl who sounds young gushes down the line.
Oh, dear God, who is he calling now? The last thing I need is some bimbo turning up and fawning all over him while I look like shit and can’t hold back my emotions. I’m clearly in the middle of a fucking breakdown of some sort.
I try to wiggle out of his grip on me, but he pins me with his death glare, the sheer dominance in it stopping me dead in my tracks. “If you’re free right now, I’ll send a car to your apartment to pick you up,” he tells her.
“Man, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you boys, you know I can make myself free,” she says, sounding way too happy about it.
He grins at me like a bloody Cheshire cat. “Perfect. And bring your makeup and hair kit with you. We need a full makeover for my little princess.”
“Sounds interesting.” She laughs down the line. “I’ll be ready when the car arrives.”
“Thanks, George, you’re the best.” He disconnects the call, grinning back at me, all pleased with himself, even if there is still an edge to him.
I roll my eyes because there is literally nothing else I can do when pinned between his body and the counter.
“What was that for? I’m helping you out,” he mutters while typing something into his phone.
My face is bitchy as all hell, I can’t help it. Why does he have to be so damn flirty with everyone? I place a hand on his solid chest, trying to shove him off me. “Was that another one of your groupies?”
He pulls a face. “I haven’t slept with every girl I know. Some of them really are just friends. And Georgina is like family, so it would just be weird.”
“Good to know,” I mutter, trying to sound uninterested and still not really believing him. He’s a magnet for women, they love him, and even though it’s clear he’s into me, I can’t help but wonder how long it will last before he finds some shiny new thing to go after.
He tucks his phone away, his hands coming to my waist. He picks me up and places me on the counter in front of him, pushing his legs between mine so I’m forced to let him closer. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re jealous.” He flicks a stray chunk of my hair.
