According to their stupid mafia rules, Ash was basically Tank’s boss. Nobody crossed him, least of all someone who hadn’t even been given the title of captain yet. Though he deserved it, I knew why they waited; they wanted to make sure they could trust him.
Which meant right now?
I would have to get in that stupid Tesla and try not to cry.
Because if I cried, he’d make fun of me.
He’d ask me why I was crying again.
And I wasn’t sure I could handle Ash making fun of me ever again.
It was already hard enough breathing around him, let alone having to listen to the poison that fell from his mouth.
I straightened my shoulders. “It’s fine, Tank; I’m a big girl.” I jerked my head toward Ash. “Get my bag.”
“No please?”
“Nope.” I popped the P then smiled sweetly. “You don’t deserve manners; why would I even waste words on you at this point?”
He scoffed. “That’s rude.”
I snorted. “Coming from you, I think that’s almost a compliment.”
Tank opened the passenger side door, worry etched all over his preppy looking face. He was almost too All-American, too pure to look the part, but I knew his secrets.
What he’d done.
Who he’d silenced.
Such a nice ruse.
We all had them.
I guess everyone but me.
Maybe that was why Ash hated me so much.
I didn’t know how to pretend.
How to verbally spar.
How to physically fight, at least well.
I was just… me.
And it bored him to tears, made him lash out, made him angry that I didn’t try to pretend to be anyone but who I was born to be.
A girl who loved art.
Who wore cardigans so people didn’t see too much.
A girl who wore pearls because it was the only thing that was left of her dead parents.
No, Ash wouldn’t want to know those boring details.
He may discover he actually had a heart if he did.
And the last thing I needed was Ash discovering he wasn’t as scary as he thought he was.
No, he was more terrified than scared.
Terrified, of losing everything.
Tank reached for me. “Annie, text me if—”
“She’s safer with me than anyone else in this city, or do you doubt my ability to protect her?” Ash crossed his arms in a challenge as I sunk down into my seat and prayed for the apocalypse.
“Sorry, Ash.” Tank straightened. “You’re right; I’ll just check in later.”
“Do that,” Ash snapped.
He opened the driver’s side door, slammed it, then seemed pissed that the car wasn’t making enough noise as he sped out of the airport.
I gripped the door handle to keep from getting flung through the actual door as he sped in and out of traffic, his long, lean fingers bracing the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead.
“Hungry?” he asked with a gruff bark that had me jumping in my seat.
Was he still doing pills? Drinking? Should he even be driving?
“I’m fine,” I said softly.
Do. Not. Cry.
I lifted my chin a bit, remembering Aunt Sophia’s words.
He gave me major side-eye and then jerked his head back toward the road. “You’re skin and bones.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
When Aunt Sophia said it, she said it out of love because I couldn’t eat anything for the first few months.
I had trouble existing, let alone eating.
My lower lip trembled as I looked out my own window. “I got sick in Italy. I’m fine now, thanks for asking. It’s not because I’m choosing not to eat.” Jackass.
“How sick?” He asked, again his voice so gruff that I wanted to shake him. Would it kill him to soften up a bit?
With a sigh, I answered, “Sick enough that I had a rough first few months.”
“Did you see a doctor?
“Do you even care?” I snapped.
His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I’d be an animal not to care.”
I just stared at him, letting the silence do the talking.
He glanced over at me, then back at the road, then at me again. “You’re shitting me. You hate me that much?”
“Pretty sure the hate’s mutual, Ash, which suites me just fine.”
“What the hell did I ever do to you?” he roared.
I was already exhausted. “The fact that you even have to ask yourself that question tells me all I need to know.” I grabbed my cell. “Can you take me over to Sergio’s first?”
“You don’t live at Sergio’s,” he pointed out. “You live with me—us.”
“I know where I’m currently staying, thanks.” My voice cracked. God, it was like he would never let me forget it. “I just want to hang out with Tank for a little bit before dinner—”
“No,” he barked.
“No?” I argued. “Who died and made you my dad?”
“You said you were sick. If you were sick, that means you need to rest, and you need food, no hanging out, no shopping, no guys. Just… no guys.”
I gaped at him like he’d just grown a second and third head. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”
“Honestly, wish I wasn’t hearing myself.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “Fucking hell!”
I jumped a foot.
“Sorry.” The fact that he actually apologized was more confusing than the outburst. “I’m… never mind. Long day.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
The rest of the ride was quiet as we pulled up to the house. I missed it. It was like something out of a magazine, the perfect house to do a photoshoot in front of with its huge fountain in the middle, perfect brick, expensive cars parked out front.
My life now.
Weird.
Ash grabbed my bag without me asking and then opened the front door for me just as Izzy popped into my line of vision. “You made it!”
I was engulfed in a hug before I could say hi.
She held me tight, then whispered. “You have no idea how much we need to talk about.”
My smile felt strained. I really was tired.
“Shit, Iz, let her at least change before you start terrorizing her.” Ash came to my defense.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
He narrowed his right back.
What was this?
I leaned in.
“What are you doing?” He smirked.
I waved in front of his face. “Are you still taking—”
Ash’s eyes went wide as saucers as he slammed a hand over my mouth and started dragging me down the hall. “Adult conversation, be right back. Iz, take her stuff up to her room? Thanks, you’re the best; I’ll do the dishes, okay bye!”
He dragged me all the way back outside, around the pool, into the pool house, and all the way up the stairs into his room.
It was impossible to fight him, and I really just wanted to be anywhere but there.
“Get off!” I shoved him when he finally shut the door to his bedroom. “What the hell is your problem?”
His eyebrows shot up. “You dare talk to me like that?”
“You dare kidnap me in your parents’ house?”
“Hardly kidnapping.” He scowled. “I didn’t even use duct tape.”