It Takes Two Book 6

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Authors: Ellie Danes

Tags: #The Matchmaker

BOOK: It Takes Two Book 6
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It Takes Two
(The Matchmaker Series – Book Six)
(An Alpha Billionaire Romance)

by Ellie Danes

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author/publisher.

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products references in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

Third-party websites addresses listed in this book are accurate and age appropriate as of the time this book went to press, but are beyond the publishers control. The publisher cannot guarantee that the content of these sites will not change.

 
Copyright © 2015 Ellie Danes
First Edition: April 2015

 

Harper

By the time I had calmed myself down enough to walk back out to the front of the bar Mason had gone. Searching for him amid the Lucky’s customers only made the lump in my throat bigger, threatening to drive me to tears.

“You okay?” Miles asked. He mixed a drink for a waiting customer with expert hands as he looked at me. Miles always offered up good advice when asked, but I didn’t feel like speaking to anyone at the moment.

I gripped the side of the bar as I steadied myself.

“Harper? Are you okay?” Miles stared at me and looked as if he were going to make an attempt to catch me if I should pass out or fall.

“I’ll be fine, I just need a moment.” I turned and silently shuffled to the walk-in cooler in the kitchen, a place where I could find some space to be alone. I swung open the door, the cold air instantly hitting my overheated face, seeping through my shirt, strangely comforting despite the circumstances. “He shouldn’t have come here.” I talked to myself as I squatted behind the stack of beer boxes and kegs in the corner, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. All he did was lie to me this whole time.”

Hot tears leaked from my eyes. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, as if all the wind had been knocked out of me by his unexpected visit. Why had he come here? Had he honestly thought that saying a half-hearted apology would make everything better, after he had lied so much to me?  “I don’t need him, I don’t.”

You do
. I shook myself out of my thoughts. I didn’t need Mason any more than I needed Jake or any other liar I had ever dated. It was all nonsense; they all had pretended it was a game, some sort of test for me. But Mason’s case had hurt me the most. It had cut the deepest because for once in my life, I thought someone actually cared enough to be honest with me. His entire demeanor had seemed so honest and so good that I hadn’t doubted one word he said, even as my logic had told me otherwise along with Avery, who had been skeptical from the start.

Maybe I really was just bad at finding good men.

“Harper, what the hell?” One of the older waitresses, Cindy, came in. I wiped the tears off my cheeks, sniffling a little. “We need you out front. There’s a huge crowd out there now.”

“Sorry, I’ll be there in a second.”

I caught a glimpse of myself in the polished stainless steel door and I realized I looked almost nearly as bad as Mason had. My hair hung in a limp ponytail, my eyes had dark circles beneath them, in part because of tiredness and also because my makeup had smeared a little from the tears. But the thing that disturbed me the most was the emptiness—my face looked empty, void of emotion. I blinked away tears at that thought and walked into the stuffy bar.

Miles gave me a smile as I leaned against the bar and stared at the floor, catching a glimpse of the white envelope protruding from my apron. I opened it and stared at the wad of money, my payment for a job that I hadn’t even completed. I tugged the crisp bills out of the envelope, turning so people wouldn’t see what I had. I counted them out, my mind too frazzled to even begin to realize how much there was as hundred after hundred appeared.

A folded white slip of paper fell to the ground. I shoved the cash in my front pocket, kneeling down to grab the paper.

I’m sorry. I love you. –M

I could feel a few tears escape from my eyes, and instantly I wiped them away, straightening, crumbling the paper in my fingers and stuffing it into my pocket with the money.

Inside the bar had grown chaotic, as people began to gravitate toward the big windows of the front of the building. Flashes of blue and red worked their way into the room like weird disco lights. Sirens followed, loud even from inside the bar.

“What’s going on out there?” Miles hollered to the crowd gathered near the large window.

“The world’s going to shit, that’s what.” A patron, a regular, sat down at the bar, shrugging out of his coat. “Get me a Bud, Miles, would you?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes and trying to see over the heads of the curious customers.

“Can’t even walk down the street these days without somebody going for your goddam throat. Fuck that.”

Miles handed the man a beer, his calm voice breaking in. “Now, Joe, what the heck are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, when I walked in, some guy was lying on the ground next to some fancy car.”

“A guy?” My voice sounded hollow in my ears as I stopped trying to look out the window, staring at the patron in what probably looked like desperation. “Oh my God... What did he look like?”

“Bloody.” Joe laughed half-heartedly, taking a hearty swig of his beer. “Probably some hoodlum wanted that fancy car or something. Damn kids. I don’t feel safe walking in my own city, anymore. Back in the day...”

Joe’s conversation faded from my attention. A fancy car? Surely there were plenty of those around in the city. But right outside the bar? My heart sunk into my stomach. I reached into my pocket and rubbed the paper Mason had given me just minutes before, which held the words I had wanted to hear from someone for so long.
Mason, where the hell are you now?
I wondered. I hadn’t seen where he had come in, or where he had left.

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone, staring at the screen. Nothing from Mason. My heart sank further into my stomach. One missed texted from a number I didn’t recognize.

Jake is mine, not yours. Tell him to get his fucking ass back home.

Jake wasn’t with me. Why would whomever this is think he was with me? I tapped on my phone, contemplating whether to call Mason and then decided against it. He could take care of himself. I was sure he was fine.

Mason

The world was red. I blinked a couple times, forcing my heavy eyes open. A bright light overcame my gaze, driving out the red with pain.

Ringing sirens pervaded the background of my thoughts. I felt whatever I was laying on give a jolt, and heard a following honk from what was presumably a vehicle outside.

“Mr. Asher? You hear me? How are you feeling, Mr. Asher? Can you talk?”

The voice was loud, speaking to me like I was a child. My eyes darted around the little space as a bright light flashed in my eyes. I could feel the pressure of someone’s hands on my face, in my eyes, pulling my eyelids open.

The strong light moved away from my gaze and was instead replaced with the face of a young man in an EMT uniform.

I tried moving my tongue, tasting iron from what must have been blood. I could feel the color around my neck and my head strapped to down. I wanted to move. I wanted to get up, but couldn’t.

“Sir, try not move. We need to assess your injuries.” The young voice barked orders at another EMT sitting out of my view.

I could feel adrenaline seeping through my chest. I remembered Lucky’s, that stinky bar that I had walked into just moments before going out toward my car in the fading light. Then pain. Lots of pain. That piece of shit. Jake. Fucking coward. Jake had done this to me. I didn’t know how I knew, but I just did. I tried to get up, the IV in my arm pinching at the skin but everything was strapped down.

“No, don’t move, it’s okay,” another voice broke in, and two strong hands forced my shoulders back. “Is there someone we can call? Do you have someone we can call for you?”

I closed my eyes, trying to keep the small room from spinning.

“We’re going to the hospital, sir. Anyone we can call for you to get some information?”

Harper
. No, I remembered, Harper didn’t want me anymore. She didn’t love me. She wouldn’t even care that I was here. I had spoken to Harper just minutes before walking out to my car. I couldn’t forget the look on her face as she had told me to leave her alone, after I had apologized. My mind went blank suddenly—number, I needed a number to give them.

“Natalie...” I muttered, feeling the cut up insides of my cheeks throb. “Her number...”

I couldn’t remember if I told them the number or not. My eyes closed involuntarily, and I embraced the darkness once more.

* * * *

The red had finally faded from my vision, replaced with the refreshing sight of Natalie’s purple hair. Her voice was the first thing I heard. “But he’ll be okay?”

Another voice replied. “He’s got a concussion. He was hit pretty hard. Some sort of blunt weapon. He’s lucky to be alive.”

Blunt weapon. Jake wasn’t man enough to use his fists. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling my head whirl again as the conversation continued. My ears roared, only allowing me to catch parts of the dialogue.

“Oh my God...”

“Twenty stitches...”

“Who...”

“Mr. Asher.”

I opened my eyes again. A uniformed state cop stood towering over me, and I had to squint against the fluorescent lights, barely able to make out the cop’s face. My mind felt like mush. I wiggled my arm. The IV was still there.

“Mr. Asher, my name is Officer O’Ryan. Any idea what happened to you tonight, sir? Any idea of who may have done this to you or what they wanted? Both your car and wallet were untouched, so we don’t believe this was a robbery.”

I opened my mouth, and then closed it. Did I really know for sure Jake had done this? I wanted to believe I did, but in truth everything felt a little fuzzy. I tried to think back, but all I could remember was the blackness, the comforting blackness after what had been a really shitty day. I wanted to blame Jake, but I wondered if that had simply been my mind telling me that so I could think more about Harper.

Harper.
I wanted her to be here. I wanted to hold her in my arms again. But I’d never get that chance. I glanced back up at O’Ryan. “Sorry, Officer. I’m really fuzzy on what happened. All I know is that I was hit in the head and it hurt like hell.”

The cop’s mouth screwed up into a tight, sympathetic smile. “Well, that’s understandable. If you remember anything, though, I want you to call the station right away. Sound good?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

O’Ryan hesitated before leaving, looking at me curiously. “You don’t have any enemies around these parts, do you, sir?”

I thought to myself as I pictured Jake in his hoodie, hiding behind a car, waiting for me. But as far as I knew, Jake had gone away for good. And Harper, I guess, Harper was an enemy now, too, of a different sort entirely. I shook my head, instantly regretting the movement as my vision swam. “Not as far as I know.”

“We get these type of cases quite often with people from your neighborhood—are you sure there’s—”

“It’s time to go home,” Natalie interrupted, moving toward me.

“Home.” I sighed.

O’Ryan took in Natalie’s determined face, and nodded to me. “Remember, Mr. Asher. Anything, any memory that pops up, you let us know. Here’s my card.” He handed Natalie a small business card. She pocketed it with a tight smile, her eyes not leaving me.

A nurse wheeled me out to Natalie’s car. I settled into the comfortable leather seats, resting my sore head up against the back. Now that the heavier pain meds were beginning to wear off, my entire head had begun to throb.

“I’m really glad we got you this car,” I told Natalie as she climbed in, starting the engine.

She looked over at me and bit her lip.

“Nat, don’t.”

She dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her coat. “Asher, I don’t think you realize what a scare you gave me.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to get clunked on the head by some...”
I told you this wasn’t over
. I blinked.

“Asher?”

I blinked again. The hot breath on my neck. That voice.
I told you this wasn’t over
. It kept replaying in my head.

“It
was
Jake,” I mumbled.

“What?” Natalie stopped at a stoplight and turned toward me. “Jake? Who is Jake?”

“Harper’s ex-boyfriend. I think he’s the one who did this.”

Natalie fumbled in her purse. “Let me find my cellphone. You need to tell the police.”

“No.” I grabbed her wrist, wanting to shake my head to emphasize my point, but refraining. “No, I’ll handle it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I didn’t answer. The light turned green and I grabbed onto the seat. “I feel dizzy.”

“The doctor said you might for the next couple of days. Asher, what the hell were you doing down this way, anyway?”

“I had to see Harper.”

“So you tracked her all the way down here?”

I shrugged, regretting the movement just as I had when I had shaken my head. “No, Avery told me.”

“So this is all Harper’s fault.”

“No, it’s my own damn fault. I’m the one who fucked everything up.” Her phone began to ring, the sound piercing my eardrums and making me grit my teeth. “Answer that, would you?”

“Does it hurt your head?” She reached into her purse again, finding her phone. “It’s Harper again. She keeps calling me, leaving messages. Says she’s worried about you.”

I scoffed, finding it awfully funny that Harper cared now, now that she had probably heard about what had happened. Just minutes earlier she hadn’t even wanted anything to do with me. Maybe she thought I was near death, or something.

I remembered then that Harper wasn’t to blame for our relationship problems. I had been the one who lied, the one who had deceived her.

“I’ll call her later, once my head clears,” I said, speaking more to myself than to Natalie.

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