Ashes, p.9
Ashes, page 9
She tilts her head, scrunching her face up. “You’re not going to…”
She looks so cute and innocent, sitting on the end of her bed, knees locked tightly together. Her dirty-blond hair is messy, lips puffy, face still pink from pleasure. Her tits are almost spilling out of her shirt, making me test the limits of my self-control.
“Wildcat, your face needs ice more than my cock needs pussy.”
Her mouth opens and then closes as she swallows down whatever she was about to say. “Is it that bad?” she asks, lifting her hand to her cheekbone and wincing as soon as she touches her skin. “Fuck.”
“I’m grabbing the carrots next and putting the peas back in. Keep your ass here.”
She gives me a nod, dropping her hand back to her leg, looking defeated. “I’ll be here,” she whispers.
I stalk back down the hallway, finding Luna in the kitchen. “Hey,” I say, moving to the freezer.
“You can go if you want. I can make sure she keeps ice on her face,” she offers, leaning against the counter, watching me.
I turn, looking at her head on. “I’m good. I want to make sure she keeps ice on it all night. You good?”
She stares at me, the same blue eyes as her sister. “I’m good. Thanks for coming to her rescue…our rescue.”
“Anytime, kid,” I say, turning my back to her as I fish out the other bag of vegetables. “Men should never lay their hands on a woman. And if they do, they need to pay a steep price.”
When I face her again, she ticks her head toward the hallway and the bedrooms. “I don’t know what would’ve happened to her or me if you hadn’t.” She stops and swallows, no doubt running through all the possibilities.
“No one’s going to touch either of you again. No worries, doll.”
She smiles at me, looking every bit as beautiful as her sister. “You sweet on her?”
“She definitely has my attention,” I say honestly and lift the bag between us. “I better get back.”
“You’re sweet on her,” she repeats, but this time, it’s not a question.
I don’t answer as I stalk back down the hallway and walk into Rosie’s room, but she isn’t where I left her. I turn, finding her in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
I drop the bag on the bed and walk into the bathroom behind her, looking at her bruised and still beautiful face.
“I’m a mess,” she says, angling her face closer. “Look at me.”
I move my hand to her hips as if I’ve done it a million times. “You look beautiful.”
And goddamn she does. Her blond hair falls over her shoulders, framing her breasts. Her high cheekbones are uneven, one side puffier and redder than the other. Her blue eyes are big, with the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen, made more stunning by the dark mascara coating them. Her nose is perfect, never having been broken, and thin, ideal for her face. She’s an absolute stunner, and her attitude and spirit make her even more beautiful than her looks.
“I look like an MMA fighter.” She groans, touching her face again and wincing as if somehow it was going to feel different from a few minutes ago.
“Imagine the other guy’s face,” I tell her, squeezing her hip. “Your bruise will heal, babe. A few days, you won’t even know it happened, and you’ll be as pretty as ever.”
“Dylan,” she whispers, staring at me in the mirror. “Tonight could’ve gone…”
I shake my head, staring into her blue eyes. “It didn’t. Come on, Ro. We need to ice that face, or it’ll take longer to heal.”
She sighs and turns, sliding her body against mine. “Thank you,” she whispers, peering up at me through those long lashes.
My hand moves with her, staying firmly planted on her hip. “Don’t mention it.”
She places her hand against my chest, leaning into me again. “No, really. I’m afraid to think of what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up. I probably would have…”
I lift my hand to cup her face, making sure she’s looking at me when I say, “Shh, baby. Stop thinking about what could’ve happened. It didn’t, but the more you stand here talking about it, the worse your face is looking, and it’s a shame because it’s one helluva face.”
She steps out of my space and back into the bedroom, swiping the bag of carrots off the bed before collapsing on top of the mattress. “You can go,” she dismisses me as I walk into the bedroom and start to kick off my boots.
“Not on your life.” I move around the bed to the opposite side. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy. Whatever you need, I’ll get it. You just lie there and do your best to heal.”
She stares at me with one eye, the other covered by the white plastic bag. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You may want another orgasm too, and I want to make sure all of my services and abilities are available to you whenever you need them.”
Her one eye rolls back. “I’m good for a couple months now. Itch has officially been scratched.”
I jerk my head back and choke on my own spit. “A couple months?”
She throws her arm over her face, not giving me anything to look at except her smoking body. “I know the women you’re probably used to are a little freer with their bodies, but I am not. I don’t sleep around.”
I take the invitation, staring at every inch of her and fantasizing about all the things I could do to her and with her. “Never thought you did.”
“I also don’t do what we did out there.”
I smile at her, letting my eyes drift down from her stomach to her legs that look smooth as silk. “Whatever you say, wildcat.”
“Stop talking,” she tells me. “I have a headache.”
“Sure, baby,” I whisper. “Get some rest. I’ll make sure the ice stays on, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Dylan,” she says softly, uncovering her one eye. “Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
She closes her eyes, holding the pack on the other one, but she keeps moving, trying to get comfortable. I pull myself up to the top of the bed, resting my back against a stack of pillows and the headboard. “Lemme,” I say, moving her hand away from the bag and taking over. “I got this.”
She doesn’t argue as I take over, and she melts into the mattress and stills. Within minutes, her breathing slows, growing deeper until she’s out cold.
When the day started, I never imagined I’d fall asleep next to Rosie Gallo. This is a clusterfuck of epic proportions, but I’ve never taken the easy road with anything. Why start now? All I know is that I want Rosie Gallo, and I will do everything possible to insert myself into her life, no matter how much hell I’ll have pay to be there.
11
Rosie
I roll over, squinting as the sunshine hits my face, and see nothing but emptiness. I’m somehow relieved and sad at the same time. I don’t know why part of me thought he’d stick around, or even why I wanted him to.
Last night got out of hand and pushed me way beyond my comfort zone. I never expected for someone to hit me or for Dylan to come to my rescue, beating the guy in my defense. I sure as hell never thought I’d end the evening being kissed by Dylan and dry humping him.
I squeeze my eyes shut again, filled with regret and shame about the last twelve hours of my life. I’m usually the one who’s more reserved, and I overthink everything before I follow through. But last night, I winged it, and today, I have little doubt I’ll pay the consequences.
Today, everyone will see the shiner on my face, but at least they won’t know what happened afterward. At least I have one small sliver of saving grace in the debacle.
My bedroom door opens, and I hear, “Morning, wildcat.”
I open my eyes, seeing a shirtless Dylan. He’s holding two cups of coffee, with a bottle of pills tucked under one arm against his body, and he’s smiling as if we’ve done this before.
“You’re still here?” I ask, but the words come out a little more acidic than I wanted.
“Your face looks good,” he replies, ignoring my statement and seeming unaffected since his smile never falters.
I push myself up, tucking my feet under my body, which is still covered in yesterday’s clothes. “Thanks. So does yours,” I tell him, holding out my hand because I need a cup of coffee more than anything else right now.
He offers it to me without hesitation. “Luna made it how you like it,” he says, placing his cup on my nightstand and going to work on the bottle before retrieving two pills. “Take them. They’ll help with the headache.”
I take the pills from his open hand, stuffing them into my mouth, and sip the coffee to wash them down. An awkward silence fills the room, but for once, I don’t open my mouth to fill the void.
Dylan sits down next to me, studying my face as he reaches for his coffee. “It’ll barely be noticeable with makeup.”
“You don’t know my family,” I say against the mug. “They notice everything.”
“From what Luna says, they already know. I’m talking about the gen pop like your customers.”
“They know?” I whisper, slowly lowering the coffee mug to my leg. “Damn it.”
“Guess they’ve been blowing up her phone.” He shrugs like it’s no big damn deal. “You know how word travels.”
“Shit,” I hiss, shaking my head. “This isn’t good.”
“It’s not a big deal. Everyone gets a black eye at some point.”
“Maybe boys do, but women do not, Dylan.” I set my coffee on the nightstand where his just was. “I’m going to have to answer so many questions today.”
Luna pops her head into my bedroom, holding on to the doorframe with one hand. “Have you looked at your phone? Shit is not good.”
I shake my head and swallow down the lumps that are crawling up my throat. “Damn it. See?” I say, waving my arm at Dylan, “I told you.”
“There’s no stopping the gossip train now,” Luna adds. “Just have to hold on and brace yourself for impact. Dad isn’t…”
My eyes widen and my breath catches. “Dad?” I whisper.
“He’s heard, and he’s not happy. Like super not happy, nearing how he was about Gigi and Pike.”
“Fuck my life,” I hiss, throwing myself back into the mattress and pile of pillows.
“You better get a shirt on, sparky,” Luna tells Dylan. “If I know my dad, he’ll be here in—”
She doesn’t finish her statement when there’s pounding on our front door. Not just any pounding, but a super pissed-off, you better get to the door double fast and open it up before I bust it down kind of pounding.
“Oh fuck,” Luna says, her eyes widening to match mine. “He’s here.”
My stomach turns, and it takes all my willpower to keep the few sips of coffee from coming up. I crawl to the end of the bed and point at Dylan. “Do not move from this room.”
He lifts his hands. “I won’t. Your dad is an asshole and your problem, not mine.”
I throw up my hands and grunt in frustration. “Since you’re shirtless in my room, I’d say he’d see it otherwise if he caught sight of you,” I tell him. “This is going to be hard enough. I don’t need to add you to the mix.”
“Dad knows Dylan was there and beat the guy silly,” Luna says as my father continues to pound on the door.
“Fuckin’ great,” I mutter and brush past her, heading toward the door.
I don’t even stop to check my face, which is a huge mistake, and I know it as soon as I open the door and my father’s eyes land on me.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Dad bites out, bracing himself on the doorframe like it’s somehow holding him back from turning into a beast.
“He’s no one, and I’m fine, Dad.”
My dad’s face hardens, becoming scarier. “That doesn’t make it better. No one lays a hand on you. No one.”
I move to the side, not wanting to air my dirty laundry for the neighbors to hear. “He’s been dealt with. Trust me, he looks worse than me, and I don’t think it’ll ever happen again. Word’s traveled all around town.”
Dad looks toward the ceiling and curses under his breath before bringing his gaze back to my face. “Baby, what did I always tells you?” he asks, reaching out and gently holding my face. “Men should never lay a hand on a woman, and also, don’t get your ass into situations that can lead to this.”
“I know, Dad. It’s just…” I don’t want to finish the statement.
He doesn’t know what happened to Luna a while back with the guy that caused us to show up at our cousin Mello’s place with her fucked up beyond belief. I’m not about to spill the beans. I promised her I wouldn’t tell, and I won’t break my word now.
“The guy was messing with Luna, and I felt the need to help her. Better me than her,” I say, always wanting to rescue everyone. “It’s just a bruise.” I try to force a smile but am immediately met by pain. “It’ll heal.”
My dad winces. “Baby,” he whispers, his thumb sliding along my jawline. “That’s more than just a bruise…it’s one helluva bruise.”
I lean into his touch, always finding comfort and safety in my dad. A moment later, he pulls me into his arms, hugging me tightly.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” His voice cracks.
“But it didn’t, Dad,” I mumble into his T-shirt as he holds me. “I’m fine.”
“Fuckin’ Dylan Walsh. He did me a solid saving my girls, but I still fucking hate that dirtbag loser.”
The knot in my stomach twists. Dylan had to hear him, and no matter what he did in the past, he saved me. I can’t think of him as a dirtbag loser, and I hate hearing my father say it too.
“Daddy,” I warn, knowing Dylan can hear every word. “He was a kid when he left home. I’m sure people said that about you too at some point in your teens. It’s not nice.”
“Fuck nice, baby girl,” he says into the top of my hair. “I had a good family to put me on the right track. The Walshes are the Walshes, and they’re all the same. Trash.”
I peer up at the man I’ve always looked up to and have done everything to put a smile on his face, unlike my sisters. “That’s not true. He’s a good man, Dad. Maybe the rest of his family isn’t, but he is.”
He raises an eyebrow. Alarm bells no doubt going off in his head because of my stupid mouth. “And you know this because?”
“He saved me, didn’t he?”
“Any man would do that,” he says firmly.
I shake my head. “There were lots of other men there when the guy hit me, but no one stepped in except Dylan. No one else did a damn thing. Only him. Only Dylan Walsh.”
Dad releases me but immediately places his hands on my cheeks. “I’m thankful he was there to help you, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t an asshole, baby. Men don’t always do good things for honorable reasons.”
I back out of his grasp, placing my hands on my hips and tilting my head. “And what reason would he have to help me, Dad?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, lifting his chin. “You know the reason.”
I mimic his movements. “I want you to say it.”
Dad snarls, grumpier than normal, but not shocking with the situation. “No man does anything out of the kindness of his heart. He’ll want something for it, and it’s a price that’s too steep to pay.”
“He didn’t even ask for a thank-you,” I tell him.
“Yet, baby. He hasn’t asked for anything yet.”
“Good morning,” Luna says, finally walking out from the hallway to enter the conversation. “Nice to see you.”
“Mornin’, baby.”
Luna walks over to my father and pops up on her toes, kissing his cheek. “Stop giving Rosie a hard time, Dad. She didn’t do anything wrong, and Dylan isn’t like the rest of his family.”
Dad stares at her and then turns his gaze on me. “You both seem to know a lot about this boy, and you’re spending a lot of time defending him with having only been around him for a few minutes while he beat a man half to death.”
“He stopped at the shop for a tattoo. And he’s only back in town because his brother Ian has cancer, and Dylan came to find out if he can donate bone marrow to him. He’s the last hope at a match in the family before they start searching elsewhere. So not only did he save Rosie, he’s hoping to save his brother’s life too.”
“His brother has cancer?” I ask in disbelief. Dylan didn’t go into detail with me before, and the news rocks me to the core.
“Yeah. Ian told me about it a few weeks ago when I was at the bar. We had a long talk since the place was a ghost town. He said he didn’t think Dylan would come back even for him since they hadn’t talked in years, but here he is… He’s a good man, Dad. So stop being such a jerk about him.”
“I can still appreciate what he did for Rosie and hate him at the same time,” Dad replies, being his usual difficult self.
“You’re ridiculous, Dad. Are there any men you actually like?” Luna asks.
“Only those in my family.”
“You didn’t like Pike, and now you love him.”
“He proved himself worthy.”
I roll my eyes, ready to shoot off some smartass comment, when my dad’s phone buzzes. He glances at his phone and curses again. “I have to go. Your mother is beside herself. If she hadn’t had an appointment this morning, she’d be here next to me saying the same thing.”
“I have to get ready for work. It’s going to take some effort to hide this bruise.”
“Not enough makeup in the world will hide it,” Dad says.
“I have full-coverage stuff. No one will notice. I promise we won’t embarrass you,” Luna tells him.
“I’m not worried about being embarrassed, baby. Just take care of yourself.” He looks at me. “You too, kid.”
“We will, Daddy,” Luna replies for the both of us. “You better get before Mom gets mad.”
