Chapter 45 (Asher)
Pulling a chair to the far-off corner, I stare out the window of the dimly lit hospital room, willing myself to feel something, anything for the man who raised me.
The man I used to worship.
But there's nothing, not even anger or resentment for all the years of abuse. No love for the man who made me what I am today.
The moment I walked in and found out how severe his injuries were, the big ball of anxiety that I had, turned into...relief.
Shit, guess I do feel something after all.
My chest spasms and I force in a breath. I have no idea how to choose between life and death for a man who I both loved and hated.
My gold-digger of a mom would have been the far better option, which is probably why he didn't put her in charge of this decision, because we already know what she would choose.
Question is—what's stopping me from choosing the same thing?
I sink down in my seat and run a hand over my head. I'm mulling over the idea of telling the doctor to pull the plug when out of the corner of my eye I notice a shadowy figure enter the room.
Assuming it's one of the nurses, I stand.
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end when I realize who the figure belongs to.
I haven't seen him in months. Not since the day he ruined my life. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He takes a step forward, and I almost cringe as I take in his appearance. Not only is he even skinnier than I remember, making his hollow cheeks more prominent, but he has a crazed look in his dark eyes—that despite all the fucked up shit I know he's capable of, wasn't there before.
Saying he looks a mess and out of sorts would be a compliment right now, because he looks nothing short of positively deranged.
He smiles at me, which only makes him look creepier. “It was on the news.” He takes another step closer to me, his smile widening. “I knew I'd find you here.”
I suddenly regret not seeking legal counsel and filing for that restraining order now. I figured I'd seen the last of him after he fucked up my life, since there wasn't anything else he could do to me that hadn't already been done. There was nothing left for him to blackmail me with, I'd already lost everything.
I feel my shoulders relax with that thought, because he has no leverage over me anymore. Which means, I'm no longer scared.
“I'm going to give you exactly one minute to get the fuck out of here before I call security.”
He ignores me and takes a step closer to my father's bed. The thread that my composure is barely hanging on to plucks like a string on a guitar, and I'm a mere second away from snapping.
“He looks so peaceful,” Kyle whispers, his attention on my father. When he brushes his hand over his cheek, I fist his shirt and tug him back. “Get the hell away—”
My words fall from my lips when he pulls a gun out of his pocket. “I need to say goodbye to him.”
My stomach knots up and I raise my hands, a combination of fear and confusion billowing through me.
Gun in hand, he gestures to the chair. “Sit down and let me tell you a little story.”
When I open my mouth to object, his lip curls and he points the gun back to me. “I love you, Asher. But if you don't do as I ask, there will be repercussions. Understand?”
Nodding my agreement, I walk over to the chair and sit.
He purses his lips. “Throw your cell phone on the bed. I don't want any distractions.”
I quickly do what he asks, silently praying for someone to walk in. That is until that crazed look in his eyes becomes even more intense. On second thought, it's better that no one else is subjected to this.
His gaze drifts to my father again. “When I was 16, I fell in love.” He toys with the gun in his hand and I have to keep my breathing in check. “He was handsome, powerful, and I honestly thought he loved me too.”
I always knew Kyle was delusional but this is a whole new brand of crazy. “My father's not gay,” I blurt out and his eyes narrow before he cackles.
“Funny, he used to say the same thing.” Sadness crosses over his features. “He also told me I was special, and he promised me that one day when the time was right; we'd run away together. Just the two of us.”
I sit there frozen, stunned at what I'm hearing. My father disowned me when he found out about the video and said he refused to acknowledge a faggot as a son. Those were his exact words. I remember them because they're practically seared into my skin, branding me.
Kyle's eyes brim with tears and he starts circling the bed.
I almost feel bad for him. Almost. But considering all the shit he did to me, and the gun currently pointed at me, I just can't.
But I need to know the truth, although some things are starting to make sense. “That's why you slept over my house all the time, wasn't it?”
He nods. “It was easier for us to find time together that way, under the guise of a friendship with his son. This way no one would suspect a thing.”
“I had no idea.”
“You were never supposed to. No one was. You see, your bitch of a mother refused to sign the prenup without an infidelity clause. She said she didn't want to be embarrassed and broke in the event that he ever cheated and left her for another woman.” His laugh is sinister. “Little did she know, huh?”
He runs a hand over my father's leg. “Anyhow, that combined with the public possibly finding out about us terrified your father.” His brows pinch together. “But he promised me that when I turned 18, we would be free. It would have been sooner, but he figured the only thing worse than the public finding out he was gay, was that he was involved with an underage teenager.” He crinkles his nose. “The wealthy must keep up appearances.”
His grip on my father's leg tightens. “Two years. I waited for him for two years. I mean, we had all these plans together, you know?” The hand pointing the gun at me shakes. “Do you know what that bastard did to me a mere two weeks before my 18th birthday?”
I shake my head, even though I'm pretty sure I know where this is going.
“He dumped me. Said I was a little phase that he needed to get out of his system and that what we had wasn't real. Said that he loved his wife and family and that I was nothing more than an experiment. Something to use when he wanted his dick sucked and his wife couldn't be bothered.”
My stomach turns to lead. “Jesus.”
“As if that wasn't bad enough, he threatened me. Said if I ever told another soul about what we did he would destroy me. Tell everyone that I was an obsessed teenager with mental issues who was making up lies. I wasn't even 18 yet, and he was a 45-year-old man with more money, power, and influence than I could ever dream of. He had the means to wreck me.”
Everything becomes crystal clear. “So you blackmailed me as payback.”
He raises a finger. “Hush. You're spoiling all the good parts, handsome.” He waves his gun around. “Anyway, I thought to myself—Self, how can you make this man who broke your heart pay for what he did to you?”
He taps his head. “Ahhh, his strapping son. The prodigy. The proverbial apple of his eye. Using you would be the perfect way to get under his skin. Worming my way into your life even more would drive him positively insane.”
His smile is so evil, a chill skitters up my spine. “You see, I didn't just want to get back at him...I wanted to drive him mad. Mentally fuck with him like he did to me. Put him in a position where he couldn't say anything and reverse the roles.”
His hand clenches into a fist. “I wanted to watch the turmoil in his eyes when he went to visit you during your first semester at college and saw me, living with you. I wanted it to haunt him and eat at him. And when the moment was just right, the stars were aligned, and he begged me for mercy...I wanted to stomp on him like a bug by showing him a video featuring his ex-lover and son. The ultimate fuck you for what he did to me. Of course, I'm not that stupid. I wouldn't do something like that to a rich man and not get any money out of it. I planned on giving him a choice. Pay up, or the world would see my mouth wrapped around his son's dick.”
He sucks his teeth at my father. “At least, that's the way it was supposed to be.” He turns back to me. “Until...the ball started rolling.” He bites his lip and peruses my body from head to toe while I fight back nausea. “And I found out that you and Daddy Holden were so much more alike than I ever would have thought.”
His eyes soften and he walks over to me before running his finger over my lip. If it wasn't for the gun pointing at my head, I'd rock his jaw right about now.
“You became so much more than a revenge plan for me, Asher.” He trails a finger down my stomach and I swallow the disgust lodging in my throat. “You put me back together and unbroke my heart. You were the salve to the gaping wound in my chest caused by him. And soon, my plan became altered, because I just wanted to spend my life loving you and worshiping you like you deserved.”
His forehead creases. “But I fucked up because I had already gotten someone else involved in my original plan. And once they found out that I didn't want to extort your father anymore...they weren't very happy about it.”
I open my mouth to ask who this person is but he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “The only thing I could do was give him money from my inheritance every month to ward him off. A lot of fucking money. This way, they wouldn't release the video.” He pauses and I can practically see the infatuation he has with me blazing in his eyes. “I didn't want to hurt the guy I fell in love with. I just wanted him to love me back.”
He presses a finger to his lips. “Only one major problem stood in the way of that. A certain redhead trailer park bitch.” He studies his nails. “Good thing we got rid of her before we started college, huh?”
His statement causes a volatile reaction in me and I bare my teeth at him. “Only because you gave me no choice.”
He waves a hand dismissively. “Nonsense, I believe I gave you two choices. Tell your little girlfriend the truth, or I would show the world the truth. You chose the road you went down, Asher. Not me.” He smirks. “But enough about her, I want to talk about us again.”
“There is no us,” I grit through my teeth. “There never will be.”
The gun slams into the side of my head so hard I see stars. “Fuck.”
“See what you made me do?” The gun pointed back at my face starts to shake. “You made me hurt you.”
He sweeps some of the blood from my cut onto his finger and brings it to his lips. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Those three years we spent together were the best years of my life. You were so—”
“Blackmailed,” I cut in, because despite his past with my father, he needs to get the truth through his skull that we were never together. “Everything I ever did was out of fear and blackmail, not because I wanted to.”
His face twists. “What we had was real. I know it and you know it.”
“No.”
“You're only saying that because of her,” he sneers. “Because she's back in your life, fucking your head up again.”
I can feel the color drain from my face, because the worst thing to do to someone with a gun in his hand is make the person you love their new target. “I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't spoken to Breslin since—”
“Don't lie to me. I know what you've been up to, Asher.” He backs away, walking to the opposite side of my father's hospital bed. “Do you have any idea what it was like seeing you run back to her again? After everything I did for you.”
I know I shouldn't be arguing with a mental case but I can't help myself. “Everything you did for me? You mean ruining my life?”
“I didn't leak the video!” he shouts. “It was Breslin's father. He was my partner. I tried to pay him off every month and hold up my end of the agreement, but I fell behind when my inheritance money ran out.”
I take a breath and let it out slow. I should probably be surprised at the news, but I'm not. Breslin's dad is an asshole and he'd do anything for the money to support his addiction. Including hurting the boy his daughter loved, and breaking her heart in the process.
“I told him to give me some more time, but he was too impatient, so he leaked it.”
“If that's the case, why didn't you tell me. You knew I had access to money. You knew I would have found a way to pay—”
“Would you? Or would you have tracked Breslin down and told her the truth about the blackmail? In other words, undoing all the years I had put into you when you were so close to submitting and finally loving me.”
Christ, I regret not telling Breslin everything that night even more now. None of this bullshit would have happened. Or maybe it would have, but things would have been so different.
Would they?—my mind taunts. She still would have left you and the video still would have gone viral. Only difference is that Kyle wouldn't have had my balls in a vise for three years. Fucking nutcase.
He sniffs. “We were so close, Asher. By that third year together, I could physically feel your love for me, and I couldn't take that chance. The chance that you would end up together again and ruin what we had.”
All I can think is that I'm watching a madman unravel as he pounds on his chest. “Because anytime you think about that cunt your head gets all fucked up.” His jaw hardens. “But I guess the joke was on me, because look who you crawled back to after the shit hit the fan.”
I shake my head and get up off the chair, because even if he kills me, it's better than not standing up to him anymore. I've had enough. I'm done with being the pawn to an obsessed psychopath.
“Look, Kyle, I'm sorry for what my father did to you. And I guess in your own twisted way you tried to make it right. But it still doesn't excuse what—”
“I tried to get help,” he whispers, tears streaming down his face. “Remember that day in the parking lot, right before prom? You told me I needed help. Do you remember that, Asher?”
“Yes,” I answer, and for a split second I truly pity him. I take another step toward him and he thrusts the gun at me. “I need you to listen. I'm not done with my story yet.”
I pause mid-step. “Okay, I'm listening.”
Maybe if he gets it all out he'll just hand over the gun and walk away.
Right, Asher. Because when the mentally unhinged hold others at gun point, it always ends well.
“After the video went viral and you told me you never wanted to see me again and I had lost you, I found a therapist. I thought maybe if I spent a few months getting help and came back to you, we could start again, you know? That maybe you would see that I'm not some crazy person who's obsessed with you but that I really do love you.”
I stay silent, because my only response to that is something he's not going to want to hear.
On second thought, maybe I can manipulate him into giving me the gun and get security to lock him up where he belongs. I just have to play my cards right.
“I'm proud of you,” I tell him and he looks surprised.
“You are?”
I nod and will my body to keep calm. “You were really brave to do that. Must have taken a lot of courage.”
“It did.” He licks his lips. “There were so many pills, though. Lots and lots of medications.”
I bet. “Are you on any of them now? Do you have them with you?”
He shakes his head. “I stopped taking them that night.” He spits the last word like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
“I'm probably going to regret this, but what night?”
“The night that I went to see you at your new college and found you in the art room with her.”
Shit. Guess that explains why I felt like someone was watching me.
I take another step forward, because as much as I'd love to draw this shit out, Breslin might walk through that door at any time and there's no telling what he would do to her. “I know what you think, but we're not together, Kyle. We just happen to attend the same college now.” I figure it's best to tell him what he wants to hear at this point. Whatever will make him hand over that gun.
He eyes me skeptically. “Yeah right.”
“It's true. She moved on from me and has a boyfriend,” I say, ignoring the way my chest burns. “She's in love with someone else. A guy named Landon. He's a musician.” My heart squeezes in protest, but I continue. “They're really happy together.” I take another step. “She doesn't want me anymore. She loves Landon now, not me.”
His face twists. “Hurts doesn't it?”
“Like hell.” I close the distance between us. “But maybe we can heal each other this time around.” He starts to jerk away but I sweep my palm over his cheek. “But in order to do that, you're going to need to put down the gun. Can you do that for me?”
“How do I know you're not just telling me what I want to hear? How do I know that you're not really with her?”
“Because of this.” My stomach lurches as I crush my mouth to his and it's all I can do not to throw up.
“Give me the gun, Kyle,” I whisper against his lips. “Please, give me the gun so we can walk out of here together.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he starts to say, until a nurse enters the room, sees the gun in his hand, and screams for security.
Kyle shoves me away and points his gun at her. Less than a second later my ears ring and my heart's in my throat when the nurse collapses and Kyle barrels down the hall.
I start to run, but slip on the pool of blood on the floor.
Righting myself, I chase after him, but unfortunately he has a head start due to my fall. I can hear security behind me and I'm relieved, until Kyle makes a sharp left and I see Breslin walk out of the waiting room.
No.
Adrenaline surges through my bloodstream and I run faster than I ever have in my entire life.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kyle shouts, but that's all he has time to say because I tackle him so hard his head slams against the tiles and the gun slips from his hands just as Preston comes flying out of the room. Relief fills my chest when he makes the quick decision to grab it.
“You lied to me about her,” Kyle barks as security forms a tight circle around us. “You tricked me.”
After they handcuff him, I stand up and glare at him. “Sucks when people do that, doesn't it?”
I expect him to tell me off before they take him away, but to my absolute horror, a large smile stretches across his face and he looks at Breslin who looks like she's seen a ghost. “Just wait, you fucking cunt.” He fights against the security guards as they haul him away. “I love you, Asher. I won't let her take you away from me again.”
The venom in his eyes has me lurching toward him, but Breslin runs over to me. “Asher, stop. You're bleeding.”
I look down at my shirt that's now stained with the nurses' blood. “It's not mine.”
She wraps her arms around me. “Oh, thank God. What the fuck is going on?”
I don't even know where to begin. Right as I start to tell her what happened, a hand clamps down on my shoulder. “You're gonna need to come with us and answer some questions,” a police officer says.
The officers let me go after 45 minutes, appearing satisfied with my answers.
When I walk back out to the waiting room in search of Breslin, she's nowhere to be found. “Have you seen her?” I ask Preston, who's sitting slumped in a chair.
He looks guilty, something I only know because I've seen that expression on his face plenty of times when we were kids. “She told me she was going to the bathroom.” He checks his watch and stands. “About 20 minutes ago.”
Annoyance flares in my gut. “You didn't think to check on her?”
I move toward the bathrooms but his next statement has me coming to a halt.
“I told her about Kyle blackmailing you, but in my defense, I thought she already knew.” When I turn around he winces. “I also thought she had something to do with it up until an hour ago.”
“What? Breslin would never—”
“Yeah, I know that now. I just figured with her piece of shit father behind it that maybe—”
“How do you know about that?”
The guilty expression on his face deepens. “To make a long story short, I ended up running into him at a bar a few hours before the video went viral. I gave him all the money I had on me in order to get him to spill the truth. Once he did, I tried to talk him out of releasing the video, but it obviously didn't work. Old drunk had a bridge to burn.”
He runs a hand down his face. “I tried to warn you that night but you didn't pick up your phone. And I didn't tell you it was Breslin's dad behind it because the last time we talked about Breslin was before you left for college and you lost your shit. I didn't want you contacting her. I was trying to protect you and do what I thought was right. Turns out I was wrong.”
“Yeah, no shit.” I notice Breslin's coat on an empty chair and intuition hits me like a motherfucker. I know exactly where she went.
I gesture for him to follow me as I head for the exit. “I need a lift.”
“Where are we going?” he questions when we reach the parking lot.
I open his car door and get inside. “Seeing as Breslin knows that Kyle blackmailed me and that her dad leaked the tape, there's only one place she could be.”
The snowy wind whips around as we pull up to the trailer park and I hover my palms over one of the vents, soaking up the warmth.
I haven't said a word to him on the short drive because I'm still pissed about him not telling me that Breslin's father played a part in this.
I go to grasp the door handle but pause and glance over at him. “Sure you're not keeping anything else from me?”
He grips the steering wheel. “Nope. Sorry to disappoint, big brother but I've been preoccupied with my own shit lately.”
“Right,” I seethe, recalling the last few months. “Guess that means I better get my shovel ready so I can clean it all up for you again.”
He slams his foot on the brake so hard the car slides as we come to a stop in front of the trailer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
It takes everything in me not to bitch slap him. “You know, you could have at least said thank you to me for winning the championship.”
He snorts. “I should have said thank you? Funny, because last time I checked, me losing that bet and getting involved with Dragoni is what's making your NFL dream come true.”
I fix him with a glare. I can't believe he doesn't see what a problem he has. “You really don't get it, do you? What if I lost? What if things didn't turn out for the best? What then?”
“I don't know.” His shoulders rise on a deep inhale. “I would have figured out another way to settle the score. I always do.”
Dragoni's words to me after the championship game sear through my skull. “How? By placing another bet? One that you might lose. Christ, when does the bullshit stop? Where do you draw the line, Preston? When someone you love gets hurt, or when they've taken your life?”
I swing open the car door. “You're going to be a dad soon, brother. It's time to grow the hell up before you end up fucking an innocent life up right along with yours.”
Preston's expression falls and he closes his eyes. “No, I'm not.” When I open my mouth to ask him what he means, he says, “There's a reason I didn't answer my phone when you called me about dad earlier today. I was getting the results back from the paternity test.”
I exhale sharply. “You dodged a bullet.”
He looks down. “I wanted the baby to be mine.”
“Prest—”
“Part of me regrets having the test done now, but I couldn't take it, Asher. I needed to know.” His eyes become glassy. “I started talking to the baby every night when Becca went to sleep. Telling it stories. Promising him or her that I was going to be a better father than mine ever was.”
Shit. I reach over and give his shoulder a squeeze. “You will. When the time is right.”
He leans his head against the head rest. “I thought that time was going to be now.” He looks out the window. “Maybe I just wanted something to give me the push I needed to clean my life up and get my act together.”
“Well, you know what they say. Admitting you have a problem is the first step.” I give him a pointed look. “You'll get through this.”
I get out of the car just as a sharp gust of frozen wind blows. “Looks like the weather is getting worse.”
“I know. I was thinking about heading to Woodside tonight, but I think I'll wait for tomorrow.”
I laugh. “I can't wait to see the look on Becca's face when she sees her shit all over campus.”
He balks at me. “What the hell is wrong with you? I might be an asshole, but I'm not tossing a pregnant chick out on the street in the middle of winter. No matter how much I can't stand her.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Then why are you going to Woodside tomorrow?”
A long pause stretches between us before he whispers, “To see Kit.” There's a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I'm not the only one Becca hurt and Kit has a right to know that the baby isn't mine.”
I wrap my jacket tighter around me and think about his statement for a moment. I suppose in some way it makes sense. At the very least, it's the decent thing to do.
I give him a smile and tap the hood of his car. “Drive safe, little brother.”
He salutes me. “Call me if you need me. I'll answer.”
I turn my attention to the trailer as he drives off and when I hear a loud crash, my blood becomes lava and I run.