***
I must have passed out when my ass hit the couch that night because I woke up the next morning with someone beating down the door of my apartment.
"Fuck." I jumped up, still half-asleep. "I'm coming. Shit."
"Open the door, goddamnit." Ashley. Great. Something was wrong.
I fumbled with it as my adrenaline spiked. "Just a second, Ash. Shit."
"Open it now!" She pounded on it harder, rattling my nerves.
I pulled it open and stepped back as she walked in and reached up to slap me. I caught her hand and pushed her backward.
"Don't hit me again, or I'll tie you up and take my belt to you in ways you'll not like."
"No, you won't." She came at me again, and I gripped her wrists and pinned them behind her.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? What happened?" I walked toward her, pushing her backward with my body until she slammed into the wall behind her. "Did the cops figure something out?"
"What?" Confusion filled her pretty face for a minute. "No. I'm not pissed about that."
"I'm going to let you go, but you swing at me, and I'll fucking swing back. You understand?"
"Fine." She jerked her shoulders side to side as if she were anywhere near as strong or fast as me.
"Stop," I barked and pressed my shoulder into her chest, pinning her still. "You hear me? Stop or get the fuck out. I'm not dealing with your crazy ass this morning."
She struggled for a minute more before exhaling and letting her head drop. Her whole body sagged, and it was a good thing I had ahold of her. She'd have busted her ass on the floor otherwise.
"All the stuff we've been through." Her voice broke and my heart constricted in my chest.
We had been through a lot. What the fuck was wrong with her? Did someone hurt her?
I reached up and brushed my hand down the side of her face and pulled my shoulder out of her chest. "What's going on, Ash?"
"You know I love you and yet you still deny me the one thing I want." She reached up with shaky hands and wiped at her face as her tears started to fall.
"I'm not going to be with anyone, Ash. That's not the type of man I am. A white picket fence and kids? Are you serious right now? Let this shit go, please. You're not that girl."
"Not the girl for you? Is that what you're saying?" She reached up, and I let her slap me in the chest before walking toward the kitchen. "Who was she, Nathaniel?"
She rarely called me by my full name.
"Who are we talking about now?" I followed after her.
"The girl at the club last night with the huge tits and long dark hair. You were dancing with her. You took her upstairs and probably fucked her silly."
"I didn't fuck her silly, and she's no one. No one means shit to me but you and Mikey. You know this." I put my hands on my hips and watched her from the opening to the kitchen.
She grabbed the orange juice from the fridge and turned back to glare at me. "I call bullshit. I've never seen you look at someone like that." Her voice broke again. "You've never once looked at me like that."
"You were supposed to kill your husband last night, run home and call it in, and lie to the cops when they got there. How in the fuck do you know how I looked at some whore on the dance floor? I sleep with other women. You know this. You sleep with every wagging dick in the neighborhood. Stop being sensitive. It's not you." I shook my head and turned to walk back into the living room.
"You're making this up to me," she called from the kitchen.
"Fine, whatever. How did it go?" I dropped down on the couch and ran my hands down my face. What a fucked up way to get pulled out of a deep sleep. My dream played at the edge of my mind. Me and Jenna walking down the beach, her in her wedding dress and me still in my tux.
It would never happen.
She'd find out who I was or what I'd done and it would be over.
That or Ashley would find out everything and kill her.
"No," I whispered and leaned back, trying to let the thought go. It forced me into a scary state of mind. If Ashley came near Jenna I wouldn't think twice about strangling her with my bare hands.
Just like I did her last husband, our first job.
"Yes or no?" She walked in and gave me an angry stare.
"Yes or no what?"
"Nothing. Never mind. It went fine last night." She sat down in the chair closest to her and drank from my orange juice container deeply. I would have usually bitched at her to get a glass, but it wasn't the time.
"He's dead?"
"Yes, pissed and shit himself thanks to the drug." She wiped her forearm past her nose, and for the first time that morning, I realized how exhausted she looked.
I got up and walked over to her, reaching down and pulling her into a loose hug. "We don't need to fight each other. We're partners. Friends. Let's stop this bullshit."
"I know." She rested her cheek against my chest and let out a long sigh. "I have to fucking go over there for a couple of hours to see his parents. You're going with me."
"As what?" I laughed and kissed the top of her head.
"My brother." She moved back and finished the OJ on the way to the kitchen.
"And you think these people are going to buy that shit?"
"They're grieving the loss of their only son. I promise you that they'll buy it. That, or they'll really not give a shit either way."
“I’ll go as a good friend, but I’m not going as your brother.”
“Whatever floats your boat, Nate.”