MISCHA HAD BEEN WAKING up alone for years. Certainly for more of his life than he’d slept next to someone. Even with Victoria, he never fought too hard to keep her from going home at night.

As the morning sunlight fell through his bedroom window, warming his face and highlighting the empty spot next to him, he hated the extra space.

Everything about this situation filled him with ambivalence. Elation soared inside over this opportunity to fuck Wolfram out of the property, and take portions of his own life in new directions at the same time.

But being unable to help Ash, or even cross the chasm between them... It felt like every time he got close, the gap widened again.

He was grateful to Victoria for offering to help. He had no idea what she had in mind, but knowing her it walked just on the other side of manipulative, and that was probably what was needed.

She’d taken Kelly home, saying it would be better if Ash kept her distance until everything was in place.

Ash had been quiet after they left the warehouse. He didn’t mind the way she reached for his hand when it was free, though. Had she listened to the CD yet? No time had seemed like the appropriate moment to ask.

Someone rang the doorbell, the chime buzzing through the intercom in his room. It wasn’t even eight yet. He’d complain about visitors so early on a Saturday, but it wasn’t like he was sleeping.

He yanked on some jeans, and pulled on a T-shirt as he walked downstairs to answer.

It was Victoria. She trailed her gaze over him. “God, you look good.”

“Morning to you, too.” He wasn’t in the mood for her brand of aggressive.

“Grump. I’m not here for you anyway.” She looked past him. “I know it’s early. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I wasn’t really sleeping,” Ash said.

He glanced over his shoulder to see her on the stairs. He turned back to Victoria. “She gets apologies and I get leering?”

“Eh. You’re the eye candy.” Victoria stepped around him.

He wasn’t sure what to do with the comment, other than be mildly amused.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” Victoria asked as she handed Ash an envelope.

That was the second time she’d done that. He’d joke about them swapping gossip, if the situation weren’t so serious.

Ash nodded, and they vanished into the living room. He was tempted to follow, and eavesdrop, but that was almost as tacky as teasing them about their reasons for wanting privacy.

Seemed like a good time to make coffee. The seconds seemed to drag on into hours. In reality, the coffee maker was sputtering its last drops when the women joined him.

“If you do this today, in his home, you give him a chance to save face without anyone else around,” Victoria was saying. She sounded confident.

Ash’s frown said she didn’t share the sentiment. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“It will.” Victoria gave her a quick hug. “Leave the bruiser at home, though.” She cast a pointed gaze at Mischa. “You don’t want to overdo the threat.”

“Thank you.” Ash managed a weak smile.

When Victoria was gone, Ash settled on a stool at the bar, the envelope in front of it. It was letter sized, and more than a quarter inch thick, due to the paper inside. She twirled it on the counter with her finger, not looking up as it spun.

“Are you finding the answers you want?” Mischa set a cup of coffee in front of her. He wished he could do something. Anything. He’d burn Wolfram’s empire to the ground if it would make Ash’s life better. Consequences be damned.

“No. But I don’t suppose I will until I get this over with.”

“What, exactly, are you doing?”

She looked up, blue eyes wide with anxiety. “Threatening my father.”

That sounded like a really bad idea. Her expression said she already knew that. “Can I help?”

“You heard Victoria. I agree with her this time.”

“Right. You know, asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness.”

“I know.” The corner of her mouth tugged up in an almost-smile. “I have to do this part alone.”

He wanted to pull her close, wrap her up, and make the rest of the world vanish. He settled for reaching across the counter and squeezing her fingers. Not because he had to hide how he felt, but something told him she really did need to do this alone. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“I know,” she repeated, her half-smile growing closer to the real thing.

He traced his thumb over the back of her knuckles, and muttered a small prayer to any god listening, begging them to keep her safe when he couldn’t.

****

IT WAS ODD TO ASH, and more than a little terrifying, to stand in front of the family home again after so many years. When she’d called her dad and asked to see Kelly today, he’d snapped that he was busy. Then begrudgingly agreed to make time in the afternoon, in a tone that implied he’d find a way to make her pay for it.

She knocked on the front door. The house that once felt intimidating and large, seemed dingy and lonely, compared to what waited for her back at Mischa’s.

Kelly answered—a spot of sunshine amid the gray—and nearly knocked Ash over with a hug.

“We have plans tonight.” Dad’s words cut through the reunion. “You have two hours.”

Instinct to recoil at the harsh tone spilled through Ash. To apologize then leave. She pushed it all aside. “That’s fine.” She was pleased when her voice didn’t waver. “May I have a few minutes of your time first?”

He pursed his lips, jaw clenched. “All right. We can speak in my office.”

“I don’t have a problem doing this in front of Kelly.”

He glanced at her sister. “I do. Join me in my office, or not at all.”

Ash followed him. The envelope from Victoria was in her purse, and it felt like a lead weight each time it bumped against her hip as she walked.

He closed the door behind her, then strode to the other side of his desk. He didn’t sit, so she remained standing as well.

“What can I do for you, Georgia?” His question was sharp.

“Ash.”

“Excuse me?”

A trickle of boldness ran through her, and she held onto it for all she was worth. “I haven’t gone by Georgia for several years. Which you probably know if you’ve been keeping an eye on me. I prefer Ash.”

“That’s not what I named you.”

“It’s not. But it’s what Mom called me, and I like it.” Her insides quaked, threatening nausea, but hope tempered it. This had to work. She wanted to turn and run, but she was doing this for Kelly, who was worth this stress.

“Don’t talk about your mother. You don’t have the right.”

She was used to stern and abrupt, but his venom caught her off-guard. “All right, we’ll talk about something else. Why did you take Kelly back, after all this time? Why... everything?” Way to sound less-than-intelligent.

“There is no everything, Georgia. You do like your stories, don’t you?”

“This isn’t a story.” The longer the conversation went on, the easier it was for her to stash old insecurities. She refused to cower in front of this man any longer. “You can insist all you want that I’m imagining your behavior, but I know better. Why do you treat me this way? Why are you doing this to us? To me?”

On the surface, it felt like a childish question. Making things about her seemed egotistical. It was true, though.

He sneered. “You know why. You killed your mother.”

The accusation stole her breath and made her hesitate. It uncovered all those old wounds, aching through every inch of her. She clung to her newfound boldness for all she was worth. “I didn’t.” It took more strength than she thought she had, to say the words aloud. And she felt a million pounds lighter once it was out.

“I’m sorry she’s gone.” She let sincerity fall into her voice. “There’s not a single day that I don’t miss her. I wish Kelly had gotten to know her. I wish I had more time with her. That you did.” Now that the words were flowing, she didn’t want to stop. “She made her decision, and whatever reasons she had, she thought she was making the only choice she could. I don’t fault her for that, but I still miss her with all my heart. It’s a shame you can’t move past the blame, and give yourself a chance to heal.”

Dad’s expression might as well have been carved in stone. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not surprised.”

Was this what she looked like to Mischa? Using a past full of bitterness and resentment as an excuse to keep him at arm’s length? No. She wanted to move on, and was pretty sure her father didn’t.

“Is that all?” her dad asked.

“It’s not. I actually came in here to tell you I’m taking Kelly home with me. Today.”

“No you’re not.” His barking laugh punctuated the words.

She pulled out the envelope Victoria gave her, and her fingers brushed something plastic. The CD from Mischa.

“This is a formal filing.” She repeated what Victoria told her. “All the I’s are dotted and T’s crossed. It’s the complaint I’ll be filing with Child Protective Services, if you make this difficult.”

“There’s no point in that. If there was, you would have already done it. Kelly isn’t in any danger here, and any CPS representative will see that.”

“It doesn’t matter if that’s the case or not.” Please let Victoria be right about this. “If the word gets out that your daughter is suing you for custody of your other daughter, because of neglect, the damage to your reputation will take years to repair. Especially with the family-oriented business you’ve built.” Saying the words left an acrid taste in her mouth, but she felt cleansed.

“You’d really turn on me, on us, because why? Out of spite?”

Victoria hadn’t given her a script for this, but the response came to her lips without hesitation. “This isn’t on me. You brought it on yourself. Monday morning, you’ll receive the paperwork you need to sign to transfer custody of Kelly to me. She hasn’t lived with you for years, and I can prove it. This way, it all slides under the table.”

His face was so red she thought he might explode, and terror—raw and familiar and as old as she was—surged inside.

“You can take your sister, but if you do, this relationship is severed.” His voice was a low growl.

“It already was. A long time ago.”

He clenched his jaw. “I won’t let you walk into my house and threaten me. Don’t think this conversation is over.”

She didn’t like the sound of that, but she’d take the victory for today, and deal with the rest if he did something with it.

It took the last of her control not to bolt from his office like a frightened child. She found Kelly in the living room. “Grab your bag, you’re coming home with me,” Ash said.

Kelly hesitated, but not for long. She sprinted from the room, and thirty seconds later she was back with her duffel. They walked side-by-side to Ash’s car.

“I’m sorry,” Kelly’s voice was quiet.

“For what?”

“I listened at the door. I shouldn’t have, but I had to hear.”

Ash hated to see the same insecurities surfacing in Kelly that she had, but they could start repairing those. “It’s okay,” Ash said.

“I’m not sorry about listening. I’m sorry I made this happen.”

The vanishing pit in Ash’s gut grew to stone-sized. She stopped her sister, and forced Kelly to look at her. “None of this is your fault.” She kept her tone firm but kind. “Not a single bit. If you ever find yourself thinking that, remember what I’m telling you right now.” She used the words as much to comfort herself as Kelly. “Promise me.”

Kelly nodded. “I promise.”

They got in the car. Ash started the engine and pointed them toward home. The silence that descended in the car was oppressive. Ash pulled Mischa’s CD from her purse, desperate for something that would keep her from thinking, and slid the disc into the player.

Aerosmith’s “Angel” drifted from the speakers. As Steven Tyler sang about breaking the walls between them, suffering and seeing the light, she had to skip to the next song.

It was Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel”. At least he’d stuck with a theme.

“Pretty song,” Kelly said.

Ash nodded. She wanted to sing along, about not feeling good enough, needing a distraction, and finding a release. The words stuck in her throat.

“Are you all right?” Kelly sounded concerned.

Ash turned off the stereo. “I’m fine.”

“Can we go for ice cream? Just you and me?”

“Sure.” That sounded like a good idea. Ash pointed them to the nearest Baskin Robins. She let Kelly order three scoops in a waffle cone, knowing her sister wouldn’t eat it all. But seeing Kelly smile, and then laugh, as the afternoon stretched on, made it worthwhile.

“Are you and Mischa still broken up?” Kelly’s question came out of nowhere.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to stay that way?”

Ash started to say I don’t know, but she did. She didn’t like the idea of being away from him. If she was being honest with herself, the thought of not repairing things with Mischa made her miserable. “No. I don’t want it to stay that way.”

“Me neither.” Kelly dove back into her ice cream.

When they got home, Ash tried not to care that Victoria’s car was in the driveway. “Go put your stuff away,” she said to Kelly.

“Okay.” Kelly skipped inside, and to her room.

Voices drifted into the foyer, and Ash followed them to Mischa’s office. As she drew closer, Victoria’s voice was distinct. “Is there any universe where we’re together? You and I? Where you forgive me for what happened?”

Ash’s legs wobbled and her ears rang as she waited for Mischa’s reply. She didn’t think she could take any more news today that was anything other than good.