Asher nodded, pulling his knife out of the table. Lucky’s eyes stayed hard. Gage grinned wide. Crazy fuck.
“Don’t kill him,” Cade instructed. “Teach him a lesson. Let him know his place.”
Asher nodded.
They didn’t kill him, as much as they wanted to. They taught him a lesson. A long one. One that had Asher satisfied Lily wouldn’t breathe his air again.
He’d wish much later that he’d put a bullet in the fucker’s brain. They all would.
“Want to tell me whatever’s really going on with Bex? The real reason you pushed me away that night?” Asher asked slowly with an edge to his voice.
I sighed. I knew he wouldn’t stay ignorant for long. I doubted Lucky would either. I didn’t miss whatever was between Bex and him. He was currently sleeping on the sofa in my mom’s living room. I guessed it was my living room now. Mom would never dance through it with a smile, she’d never change it around when inspiration struck her. The room I was in wasn’t hers, not anymore, that was mine too. Asher had helped me pack up all of her things. He hadn’t said a word the entire time, like he sensed I needed silence. He merely took the boxes I offered him to Mom’s studio out back. I couldn’t go out there. Not yet. I had moved into Mom’s room, and Bex was in my old room. She was still “sick.” Still pale, unable to hold much down, still a shadow of herself.
Asher had told us Carlos was taken care of, so I didn’t know why Lucky was on our sofa. Then again, maybe I did.
I traced a circle on his naked chest, not wanting to lie, not wanting to betray my best friend’s trust either.
Asher jostled me so I met his eyes. They weren’t swimming with anger like I expected, but concern.
“Lily?” he probed.
I looked into his eyes for a long moment. He had already taken on so much of my problems. I didn’t want to give him one more, but I also didn’t know how long I could shoulder this burden alone. How much longer I could lie to him.
“It wasn’t an accident that put Bex in the hospital,” I whispered slowly.
Asher nodded as if he was expecting it, but his eyes swam with concern.
I took a deep breath. “It was an overdose,” I continued.
Once the word left my mouth Asher’s entire form tightened and his face turned blank.
I continued. “Heroin,” I choked out. “The overdose was an accident, that what she says, what I have to believe,” I told him in a small voice. “But the drugs? The needle in her arm? No accident. She’d been using for months. And I didn’t notice. I was blind,” I said, fighting the tears at the corner of my eyes.
Asher’s hand tilted my chin so my wayward eyes would meet his. “Do not lay any blame on yourself for this, Lily,” he commanded. “Addicts excel at hiding their addiction….” he paused. “You were running yourself ragged taking care of your mom, you could never have expected this,” he said firmly. There was another pause, this time, a loaded one. “You didn’t tell me,” he observed.
I shook my head. I didn’t think he was finished speaking, and I really didn’t want to get into why I didn’t tell him. We never got what we wanted in these situations it seemed. He stayed still a moment, and I waited for him to say something more, for him to say he was here for me how I should share things with him, how he was going to take care of everything. He didn’t. The silence lasted longer than I was comfortable with, it wasn’t comfortable. It was the first time the absence of words with Asher had me feeling anxious.
He very gently gathered me up and lifted me off his chest, and placed me on the pillow beside him. I went up on my elbow, my stomach churning. I wanted to give him an explanation, but I felt tired of constantly justifying my reasons to him. To myself.
He pushed up off the bed, still silent, then padded over to the wall beside my armchair, staring at it a moment, then plowing his fist through it.
I jumped and sat up abruptly, pulling the sheets over my naked body. I regarded his tattooed back in horror. He placed both his hands on the wall, bowing his head and taking a deep breath before turning to face me. His face was blank.
I looked from the hole in the plasterboard to his fist, which was dripping blood.
This was the first time I’d seen Asher lose control, really lose control.
“You’re bleeding,” I observed in a small voice.
“You were in another hospital, facing the real possibility you could be losing another person in your life,” he started quietly, ignoring me. “Facing more shit that doesn’t seem to give you any respite. Facing that alone,” he stated flatly.