This…can’t be happening.
“It’s increasing in intensity,” Jason continues. “What if next time—”
Izzy swats him, cutting him off mid-sentence. Before I can urge him to keep going, Asher appears in the doorway.
He glares at how close Jason is sitting to me then narrows his eyes on the tears streaming down my cheeks.
“What are you doing here?” he asks Jason.
“I told him to stay.” I sniffle.
Izzy pulls her son by the arm and nods in Asher’s direction. “We were just leaving. Get better soon, Reina.”
The door closes behind them, leaving Asher and me alone.
He stays at the entrance, watching with a shuttered expression, his thick lashes fluttering down on darkened eyes.
Something in me lightens at seeing him. He’s always been there after every atrocity. He’s not a white knight per se –black knight is more fitting, but the fact that he’s always been there makes my heart race.
He finally strides toward me with both his hands shoved in his pockets. He’s changed into sweatpants and a simple white T-shirt that contrasts with his tanned skin and those veiny forearms.
He sits where Jason was and wipes a tear with the pad of his thumb.
“Why are you crying? What did Jason say?”
“He said someone is taking revenge on me. Is that true?”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything to confirm or deny.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” My lower lip quivers.
His fist clenches, but he continues his silence.
My skin prickles with pent-up energy when he ignores me like this.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I murmur. “How am I supposed to ask for forgiveness or move forward if I don’t know who or what I’m up against?”
“I’m sure they’ll show themselves.” He wipes the rest of my tears with his thumb.
“What if they don’t?”
“You’re strong, prom queen. You’ve escaped them three times, haven’t you?”
“How long do you think I can stay strong? What if I’m weak inside?” I sniffle, meeting his gaze. “Would you let me lean on you?”
He pauses at my cheek before he resumes his ministrations. “Why would you want that?”
“I just want to, okay?” I reach over and wrap my arms around his waist, my head resting against his heartbeat. “Don’t push me away, Ash.”
He stiffens. “It’s Asher.”
“Whatever, Ash is better.” I tighten my hold around his narrow, sculpted waist. My nose nuzzles in his T-shirt and I breathe him in, his sandalwood scent and his warmth. I don’t want to be apart from him anymore. I don’t want to fight the feelings I’ve developed for him.
“You’re playing with fire, Reina,” he says lowly, almost apologetically.
“Then I’ll just burn.”
It takes him a few seconds before he wraps an arm around my back and pats my head with the other one.