A solitary tear rolled down his cheek as he looked away. “What?”
“You know you need to move on, and I think part of you sees glimpses of what that may feel like, returning to your new normal. You’re afraid.”
Ash pulled away from me and stood. “I don’t know how to do life anymore, it’s like someone stole part of what made me work these last few years, and now I just feel so fucking lost.”
“Sometimes being lost… is the only way to be found,” Phoenix said from the door.
I hadn’t even heard him walk in.
Junior poked his head out from behind his dad and then in two steps had Ash in his arms.
On his birthday, he wasn’t partying with his friends; he wasn’t buying new cars or jet-setting around the world.
Because I’d like to think we at least didn’t fuck up as parents, that at the end of the day, we may be justified killers.
But we love just as much as we hate.
And we protect our own.
Phoenix locked eyes with me and then slapped Ash on the back. “I’m going to tell you what I told your dad so many years ago when he was ready to burn down his own house.”
I snorted out a laugh.
Phoenix began, “You have. You love. You lose. And then you live—the universe gives you no other choice but to wipe your tears, take a breath, and manage one small step and then another. One day ‘all you can do’ turns into what saves your soul.” He walked over to the table and grabbed a bottle of wine. “Now why don’t you go get cleaned up so Junior can at least see where he lands the good hits.”
Ash’s head jerked to attention. “You came to spar? On your birthday? Where’s Serena?”
“Sexually satisfied back in my room—sorry dads—at least Nixon isn’t here. I mean, can you even imagine—”
A throat cleared.
Junior hung his head. “Just walked through the door, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” Nixon said in a lethal voice. “He did.”
“Right.” Junior hesitated and then started sprinting down the hallway; Ash hurried after him with a choked laugh.
And I knew one day, it would be all right.
One day I wouldn’t hate myself for my part in this.
One day I would tell him the story of loss, love, redemption.
One day he would know his truth.
That day, however, was not today, not with her blood still staining his hands, not with the dirt from her grave marring his body.
One day.
When his heart was full.
When he could handle it.
I’d sit him down.
I glanced back down at my phone again and sent a quick text to Annie. “Sorry I had to hang up so soon—let them teach you some self-defense, and if you don’t start shopping, I’m going to start randomly shipping you clothes—and I’m a shit shopper.”
She texted back right away.
Annie: Okay. I’ll let him teach me. And I’ll go shopping again, it’s just hard.
Chase: Life is hard. Let my money make it easier. Besides, you’re going to need armor when you get home.
Annie: Armor?
I smiled at the phone.
“You ready for our meeting?” Nixon wrapped his knuckles against the table. “Or do you need to sext your wife in the next room some more?”
“Nah, not my wife, Annie just won’t spend any Abandonato money.”
Nixon whistled. “Can’t have that.”
“Exactly.” I grinned. “Besides, she’s going to need to feel as healed on the outside as she does on the inside.”
Nixon nodded in understanding while Phoenix pulled out a chair and started pouring wine into his glass. “Does she know?”
“Nope,” I said quickly. “I think she’s lying to herself as much as my son is, were we ever this stupid?”
Nixon shot me a glare. “You were, or should I say are?”
“Who’s stupid?” Tex piped up after he walked into the kitchen, followed by Sergio, Dante, and Andrei.
“You are.” Andrei patted him on the back.
Tex reached for his gun.
Everyone started arguing.
And I typed a reply but decided not to send the text. Just in case it scared her.
So I stared at the cursor and grinned.
Chase: Love is war. Get ready to battle.
Chapter Seventeen
“No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear.” —CS Lewis
Annie
I shoved my hands into my coat pocket as I made my way across campus to the usual meeting spot for Ash.
For exactly one week, we’d been at this weird standstill where Ash drove me to class, basically shadowed me, and growled at anyone who approached, trained me whenever I showed up at the ring. And then let me watch TV in the guest house while he showered or did laundry.
Sometimes Junior and Serena would pop over; other times, it was just Maksim and King, which usually ended in all of us watching some sort of horrible reality TV show because, in their words, Ash deserved a bit of torture since they couldn’t beat him in the ring.