“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of that when we get home.”
Thoughts of him “taking care of me” distracted me the entire ride, and it wasn’t until the car stopped that I noticed we’d arrived at the ballpark. Walking hand and hand with Ashton, I was confident. At least, until we reached the hallway with the bank of elevators for the club boxes.
Memories of my last walk down the hall assaulted me, taunting me, bringing back the familiar feelings of doubt and fear. I drew a deep breath in through my nose but it was no use. They still plagued me. By the time we reached the box, I was a jumbled mess of nerves. The confidence I’d built up at the house had slipped away. My stomach was in absolute knots.
“Elena, what’s wrong?” Ashton was concerned, but I couldn’t spoil this for him. It must have taken a lot for him to bring me here; to trust me with everything that this entailed. Knowing what I knew, I could bring down his whole family—everything generation after generation of Haweses had worked for. It might not be legitimate, but it was still a legacy. This was a huge leap of faith on his part. I had to show him it wasn’t unfounded.
“Nothing.” My eyes looked everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “It just feels weird being here again.”
Placing one hand on the small of my back, he guided me over to one of the chairs near the window. “Sit and watch the game while I get us drinks.”
He left me but returned within minutes, handing me a glass. I smelled the white wine before I saw it and I pulled back, the drink almost dropping to the floor. His hand reached out and gripped the stem before it left my fingers.
“Elena?”
I stared wide-eyed at the window. “Too many memories.”
Ashton stepped into my line of sight and knelt in front of me. “Yes, but this time is different. You’re different. Now you’re mine.”
He slid his hand around the nape of my neck and guided my mouth to his. The soft caress ended the second his tongue slipped through my lips. Then his kiss took on the erotic rhythm of his body thrusting in and out of mine. If I’d thought I was needy in the car, it was nothing compared to this moment. The clearing of a throat broke us apart.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Brock lifted one eyebrow and crossed the room.
My face flamed, and I had a hard time making eye contact with Brock. How did I let myself get carried away every time I was in Ashton’s presence? No matter the reason, I still wanted him. I let my body cool with the realization that a little bit longer and I would have begged Ashton to take me right there in the club box. The meeting couldn’t be over soon enough for me.
“It’s fine,” Ashton said. “We were just about to order dinner.”
That was news to me, but I went along with it in an effort to distract myself. It would be a long night otherwise.
We picked our meals and Ashton called down to the kitchen. When he came back, he took the seat next to me, with Brock taking a seat on one of the chairs on the other side of me.
“Did everything go okay at rehearsal?”
I nodded. “It did. Although, I think Brock might have been a bit bored.” I nudged him with my elbow and he smirked.
“Nah, it was fine.”
“Good, because I want him to go with you from now on.”
Brock’s eyes narrowed.
“Dominic made bail this afternoon,” Ashton explained, his face stoic. He was silent for a moment, letting that bit of information sink in. Then he turned to me. “What kind of moves have they taught you in your self-defense classes?”
“Mostly how to escape if someone grabs us. A knee to the crotch, a head butt. Oh, and how to knock someone off you if they have you pinned.”
Ashton’s fingers caressed my face. “All things I’m glad you’ll know with that asshole roaming the streets.”
That reminded me. Yesterday, Ashton had been arrested for kidnapping me. “Should you be doing this today? After being arrested yesterday, I mean.”
He shrugged. “It goes with the territory. If we back down because the police search our businesses looking for evidence—evidence they are never going to find—then we look weak to our clients. We can’t have them thinking they won’t have to pay us back if the police are involved.”
Brock added, “With Ashton taking the meeting tonight, it proves that they still need to pay the money back—that the police can’t do a thing to stop it.”
Before I could respond, there was a sharp knock at the door, and my heart leaped to my throat. The door opened slowly and a cart was wheeled in.
Our food.
I swallowed, trying to cover up just how scared I’d been. The memories of that first night were a bit fuzzy after Dominic left. My stomach started to rumble. I hadn’t been in the mood to eat much throughout the day. I got about two bites into my meal when another knock sounded. That one had to be the man there to meet Ashton.
Brock stood and walked over to open the door. A small, portly man with thinning black hair walked in, a book bag on his back. He was dressed like every other guy in the stadium: shorts, jersey, and sneakers. There was nothing conspicuous about him. Had I seen him in the hallway, I would never have believed he was there to pay off a loan shark.
“Anthony.”
I glanced to my left and was shocked at what I saw. The man with the smile that could melt my heart was no longer sitting next to me. In his place, was a man with a look of cold determination in his eyes.
I noticed the slight tremor to the guy’s hands. He looked at me for a second but seeing Ashton’s face he quickly averted his gaze.
“Mr. Hawes. I . . . umm . . . I have a problem.”
“And, what would that be.” Ashton’s tone was cool and clipped, not what I was used to hearing.
“I . . . uh . . . only have . . . uh . . . part of the money.” Anthony stuttered his response. Clearly he was terrified.
And I was about to see why.
“What? I don’t think I heard you right.” Ashton didn’t shout, like I expected. He didn’t even raise his voice. Instead his words were low, menacing, and it hit me that this kind of calm was a prelude to danger. Brock stood, his shoulders hunched, hands clenched into fists at his sides.
Brock made me feel safe in his presence, but I knew the man in front of me didn’t feel the same way. And rightly so. I remembered how I’d felt the first time I saw him. Brock was an imposing individual. It’d taken me months to get used to him.
It took all of my willpower not to say or do anything. Ashton and Brock had been doing this for years. Whatever their plan, I needed to watch and see it fall into place if I were to make a fair decision about this part of his life.
“Mr. Hawes—”
Ashton put his hand up and Anthony immediately closed his mouth.
“How much?”
Anthony swallowed hard. “Seventy-five thousand.”
“Twenty-five thousand short.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ashton steepled his fingers in front of his face and stared at Anthony. After a few more seconds, he finally spoke.
“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today.” Anthony bobbed his head up and down, setting the bag down while Ashton continued speaking. “Since this is the first time you’ve been short, I’m going to give you another chance. You have two weeks.” Anthony’s shoulders relaxed, but it was too soon. “But you’ll bring me forty thousand, won’t you?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Hawes. I can do that.”
He wasted no time backing toward the door. When his hand closed over the handle, Ashton called out his final warning. “Just remember—you turn up light again, we won’t be having a discussion like this.”
“Yes, yes. Thank you Mr. Hawes.”
Ashton didn’t even take the time to watch the man leave. He simply picked up his knife and fork and resumed eating. And that’s when it hit me—Ashton was playing a part. His audience may be smaller, his stage more informal, his performance more intimate, but that’s what it was. A performance.
When the curtain went up and the spotlight was on him, he became the character he needed to be. He followed the script his father, and his father before, had written, revised, and perfected. Ashton was no different to me. And if he could accept that I changed when I was doing my job, surely I could accept the same?