Page 6 of Cruel Titan

Asher struggles against Nathan’s grip, becoming more agitated as Nathan keeps him confined. “Let me go.”

The desperation and fear in his voice almost makes me feel sorry for him for a moment … almost. Asher got himself into this situation.

Nathan loses his hold as Asher becomes irate, shifting around as Asher rams Nathan back.

Pointing to the door, Nathan yells, “Get out of here now, and I’d better not find you in this room again.”

Asher looks to me, the panicked countenance from moments ago is now disguised by the sadistic expression I know belongs to Hades. I brace myself for what he’s about to say, knowing it won’t be good. “I’ve already fucked her in here, so what does it matter now?”

Candace’s hand snaps to her mouth as I feel the shock of his words.

Lunging forward, Nathan swings his fist, connecting with Asher’s jaw. More surprising than Asher’s cruel words is the fact that Nathan’s punch sends Asher stumbling backward, but he makes no move to retaliate.

Gripping Asher’s shirt, Nathan yells in his face, “Get out of my house and don’t you ever set foot in my home again. Do you understand me?”

Asher rubs his hand along his jaw where Nathan’s fist hit, seemingly unfazed on the surface, but I already know there’s a monster brewing deep within him. “Understood.”

I watch as Asher casually strolls out of the bedroom door, leaving behind a mess in his wake as he always does.

“Are you okay?” Nathan asks, moving towards me. Candace remains motionless beside me.

“Yes. Thank you.” I look down at my feet, embarrassed to look Nathan in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

“The only thing that matters to me is that you’re safe. I’ll keep a better watch on the cameras and have all the locks changed.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s not up for debate.” Nathan’s voice is stern, but when I look up, all I see is concern on his face. “Don’t ever hesitate to call me if you need help. Got it?”

I nod, looking back to the floor. His words sound sincere, sending a sinking feeling through my chest. Trusting him is what I want to do, but I can’t afford to let my guard down until I know what really happened to my dad. And I need to be ready for what’s next because I have a feeling that I just summoned the deep-seated beast within Asher Hastings.

5

Asher

Every muscle in my body is tense despite the casual appearance on the surface. Sucking a deep breath, I still can’t manage to get the tightness out of my chest. The air refuses to fill my lungs fully, not allowing me to take a deep breath—not since Nathan pinned me against the wall. I shouldn’t be shocked at his response. Nathan is protective over Quinn. I’ve seen it since day one. Understandably, it seemed to come naturally, but he’d always been there to rescue me from the confinement, not inflict it upon me. My hand reflexively grabs at my neck, pulling roughly as I try to remove the invisible force still squeezing the air from my lungs, but nothing is helping.

All I wanted to do was talk to Quinn, but she chose to call Nathan for help. Summoning him like she needed to be protected from me. From Nathan’s reaction, he’d thought the same—that I’m no better than the malicious brute he’d shielded me from. Quinn turned him against me, and he threw me out of the only place I’ve ever felt safe from the demons. And the suffocating demons have made it known they are around now more than ever. I thought I’d buried these feelings, thought I’d gotten some type of control over my mind, but I’m that same little weak boy sitting in the pitch-black confined space, knowing that when it was over the worst was yet to come.

Grasping my T-shirt, I pull the smooth material away from my skin, attempting to get some relief from the restraint that grows tighter by the second, but it doesn’t help. Swiftly, I pull the T-shirt off, tossing it to the ground as I continue the short trek that seems to be never-ending.

Finally, I step inside the house, slamming the door behind me as I once again return without having a chance to explain anything. I’m halfway up the staircase when I hear my father call my name from the landing. I continue up the stairs, ignoring him as I move to walk past him, and my mother appears by his side.

“What happened?” she gasps. No doubt my face is swollen from the blow Nathan landed, but I don’t feel any pain. The tightness sucking the air out of my lungs is masking every other sensation in my body … except anger.

“Nothing.”

My father steps forward, grasping my arm, but I jerk away from his grip. “Have some respect. Your mother is concerned.”

Looking to Victor, I respond feeling nothing but hatred for the man in front of me. “Like you respect her?”

Fury flashes across his face as my mother steps forward to referee the two of us once again instead of standing up for herself when it counts. “Asher, is this about that girl? What did she do now?”

“You seem to know plenty about that girl, so I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Monica steps back, avoiding looking to Victor, and confirming she knows more about what’s going on than she wants either of us to know.

Victor grabs my arm, dragging me forward. I brace my arms in front of me, stiff-arming against him as he stumbles back. Quickly recovering, his arm darts out, his hand grasping my throat as his grip tightens around my windpipe. Panic overcomes me as my already shallow breath is taken away. Thrashing and fighting, I manage to escape his tight grip, shoving away from him while Monica pleads with Victor to back off, knowing the scene will escalate because neither of us ever back down without intervention. That scene has played out many times over the years. The difference now is I’m not a defenseless child, so he doesn’t always take it as far as he once had. Back then, Nathan was the one who would usually come to my defense. The thought sends a jolt of rage through me as I recall Nathan’s words. Those words—even the thought of them—hit harder than my father’s fist.