And then I hear a woman’s voice call my name.
“Asher? Asher Devlin?”
Audrey? No, that’s not her voice. I roll my head and wince at the throb in my temples. I crack one eye open but that cranks my headache up a notch, so I open both and take a look.
Shock jerks me forward in the seat. “Mrs. Morrison.” Audrey’s mom. What is she doing there?
Oh shit. Of course. I’m in her apartment. She has to be asking herself what I am doing here.
“Mrs. Morrison...” I swallow. My throat is so dry it clicks.
“Is Audrey here?” She leans to the side to look into the bedroom.
“No. I... I don’t think she’s here right now.”
Fuck. Funny how I don’t sweat so much when I face seasoned fighters in the cage, but Audrey’s mom... Well, let’s just say I want her to accept me. I don’t want Audrey to clash with her mom because of me.
“Mrs. Morrison, I know you don’t want me here.” She’s looking at me, with those green eyes, so much like her daughter’s. I forge on. “And I respect that. Audrey said I could stay for a while, get back on my feet. But this is your place, and I’ll go if you want me to.” I suck in a deep breath. “Please don’t blame her. I know my dad destroyed your lives and that I’m not who you wish your daughter to be with. But I’ll work hard and finish school and...” And what? I rub my eyes. They burn. “I’d never hurt her. The thing is, I love your daughter.”
Audrey’s mom is staring at me, her gaze so intense I have to look away. Shit. That probably isn’t what she wants to hear. But I’m not backing off this time. I’m done running away. If there’s one thing I’d still fight for, that’s Audrey.
Her mom isn’t saying anything, and that makes me nervous. Okay, more nervous. This is my girl’s mom, for chrissakes. I don’t care if she hates me as long as she doesn’t force her daughter to choose between us. Audrey loves her mom. I’m not sure about many things, but I’m positive Audrey won’t give up on her mom to be with me.
She shouldn’t have to be asked to make that choice.
“Asher,” she says and reluctantly I turn back toward her. “Audrey doesn’t know I’m here. And I’m not staying. I was on my way to visiting friends in Milwaukee where I have a business meeting in a few days’ time.”
Why is she telling me this? My pulse is racing so fast I think I might have a heart attack.
“Do you know what I do in my spare time?”
I can only shake my head, more confused than ever. Is that her way of telling me she isn’t going to let me be near her daughter, not now, nor ever?
“I recently got involved with the National Runaway Switchboard, at the headquarters, in Chicago. Our mission is to keep runaway and at risk young people off the streets and offer them help.”
I open my mouth and close it. “What are you saying?”
“There are programs to help you finish school and find a job. I can get you in touch with the right people.” She folds her hands in her lap. “See, I called Audrey but couldn’t find her, to tell her I was coming over, so I called Tessa, her friend. And Tessa told me what happened. And I want to help.”
I swallow but the knot forming in my throat isn’t going down. “You want to help me.”
Her cheeks flush. “I also wanted to say... I’m sorry, Asher, for the way I treated you. I really am.”
I just sit there, shocked speechless for the second time in one day, and the only thought running in circles inside my head is, what a strange new year this is proving to be, though it’s barely started.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Audrey
I left the others when they decided to go out for drinks. Zane has left Ash alone and I’m worried. Zane assured me Ash looked okay and is probably asleep again, but a weird feeling in my chest won’t let me relax.
I’ve tried to ignore bad premonitions before, and they turned out to be true. Okay, so this time I don’t feel as though Ash is in mortal danger or anything, but still... I have to make sure he’s all right.
As I hurry through the streets, adjusting my scarf around my chilled neck, I tell myself he isn’t a child and that I should probably stop hovering over him the whole time. Heck, after the morning sex we had... Yeah. Definitely not a child.
God, I feel hot just remembering how he touched me, how he held me, how we rocked together.
If it wasn’t so cold outside, I’d be fanning myself at the memory.