Stone Cold - Ashby Crime Family

“And what is this, your etchings?”

“Funny,” I said again and rolled my eyes. “No, this is my favorite place in the world. Where I come when I need creative inspiration.”

“For hacking?”

The question was mildly offensive, but I shook it off.

“No. Ever heard of AI Holdings?”

“The video game company?”

“The software company. I started it when I was seventeen, with Ma’s help, of course. Jasper and Kat too.”

Her eyes widened until I thought they might pop out of her head. “You’re AI Holdings?”

“Ashby International. In the flesh.”

“Wow. Impressive. And you did it all here?” She motioned to the room I’d set up the same way any proper sci-fi geek would, to look like outer space.

“Not all of it, but plenty.” I stepped inside and flipped the lights off, smiling at the gasp of surprise that sounded when she saw all the stars and planets, the solar systems in minute detail.

“Now, we talk.”

She was defensive again right away. “Why bother? You don’t understand and why should you?”

“I understand more than you think.”

“Yeah?” she folded her arms and sat on the floor to look up at the ceiling. “You grew up with strict religious social climbing parents?”

“No. I grew up with an abusive alcoholic father.”

“No!”

“Yep. He was a bit of a prick. Should’ve seen some of the shit he did to Ma and Jasper.”

“But not you?”

I laughed. “Me too, but Jasper and Virgil always did what they could to save me, Kat, and Ma.”

“I’m sorry, Calvin.”

I smiled. “Thanks, but that’s not why I’m sharing. I know exactly how you feel, Bonnie. Exactly.”

“Doubtful,” she snorted.

“You heard the story of how old Colm Ashby died?”

“All I know is it happened over a poker game.”

I smiled bitterly. “It happened at a poker game, but the why is a bit more complex. Anyway, after he died, I wouldn’t sleep. I was so worried that my da was dead, and I wouldn’t let myself sleep. Then I couldn’t sleep.”

I tried to shrug off as the memories of that time, but they hit me hard.

“Pills aren’t easy to come by for a teenager, not without a script. But the other stuff? Easy as hell.”

“You?”

I nodded. “Yep. Surprised?”

“You could say that.” She shook her head and let out a laugh before leaning back to gaze at the stars. “Is that why you want to help me so bad?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Does it matter as long as you get the help you need?”

She shook her head. “I don’t need any help though.”

“Okay. You can sleep in the room across the hall tonight. Think about if you really don’t need any help.” She was as stubborn as any woman, probably more so because she’d never struggled or wanted for anything in her life. Until now.

She stood with a huff and stomped across the hall, shutting the door hard but not quite slamming it behind her. Thirty seconds later the door opened again. “What are all my things doing here, Calvin?”

I smiled. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

A low growl escaped, and I thought that was it, until she spoke. “In the morning,” she shot back. “Over pancakes. With real maple syrup. And bacon.”

“Anything else?”

She was quiet for a long minute. “Yeah, and more of that fancy coffee of yours. It’s delicious.” The door slammed again, and this time I knew she was in for the night.

Which gave me plenty of time to get some work done before the sun came up.

Chapter Eleven

Bonnie

Morning came too soon, and with it came thoughts of things that I didn’t need to be thinking about. Like Calvin Ashby. The murderer.

And getting a quick fix before breakfast.

“Ugh, breakfast,” I groaned quietly into the mid-morning silence that permeated one of the guest rooms in Cal’s part of the Manor. I remembered my own conditions for staying. Pancakes and real maple syrup sounded amazing. It was my favorite breakfast. Something I hadn’t had since the morning my parents took off for parts unknown. Had I known it would be the last meal we shared together, maybe I wouldn’t have taken it for granted so much.

And now Calvin Ashby would be making me pancakes. With real maple syrup.

That thought lit a fire under my butt, and I sat up slowly, looking around the room to make sure I was exactly where I thought I was, something I’d never had to worry about before.

I was still in Cal’s beautiful guest room, sitting up in a bed so plush it had to have been made for royalty, certainly not the likes of me. Still, I slid to the edge of the bed and crept across the plush blue carpet to the en suite bathroom, complete with a separate shower and bath, and a his and hers vanity. It was the ultimate in luxury, and if my life wasn’t in total shambles, I might have been in a frame of mind to appreciate it.