LUST: A Bad Boy and Amish Girl Romance (The Brody Bunch Book 2) (19 page)

I didn’t want to smile. I didn’t even think I was capable, just then. But he said it so earnestly, so genuinely, that I couldn’t help it. What a confession…

Ash smiled too, though his was a little sadder than mine. “But if you wanna protect them right, love… you know what you have to do.”

And just like that, my smile faded. Even though he was right, it was still the last thing I wanted to think about right now.

But I couldn’t put it off forever. I owed it to my sisters to do the right thing—to put myself through yet another hell on their behalf. That’s what you do for family. That’s what you do for the people you love.

“Yeah,” I said, hiding my face in Ash’s shirt once again. “Yeah, I do.”

I
f there was
anyplace I’d seen enough of for one lifetime, it was the Bright Falls police station.

Some of it was my fault. And some of it was my father’s. And some of it, more recently, was Wyatt’s. But now I was here for a different reason—not because I was starting trouble, but because I was trying to put an end to it.

And trying to be there for Hannah.

I didn’t envy her position. Not one bit. I knew there was only a slim chance she’d get a fair shake in all this. I knew those detectives would play Twenty Questions with her for however long it took to either trip her up, or for them to decide she wasn’t lying and then maybe,
maybe
do something about it. That was how this shit worked. Victim or villain, going to the cops always resulted in a long and uncomfortable interrogation.

Damn. How long had she been in there? I glanced at the clock. Going on over an hour now. I scrubbed my face with my hands and instantly regretted it. My bruises flared under my touch and I growled, leaning back in the exceedingly uncomfortable chair I’d been relegated to ever since my pacing had drawn a little too much attention from police officers wanting to know where I’d gotten my busted lip and knuckles from.

Shit. This whole place was one huge reminder that I was still a suspicious person, in the eyes of the law. Maybe even in the eyes of Bright Falls in general. The more I sat here, worrying about Hannah and my own reputation, the more the walls seemed to be closing in.

My eyes darted to the clock again, even though I knew virtually no time had passed. If things went the way I thought they would, Hannah wouldn’t be out for a while. I stood up and wiped my clammy palms on my jeans. Fuck it. I couldn’t do this anymore. I needed some fresh air.

I stepped outside through the automatic doors, taking a big gulp of the first cool breeze that came wafting by. There was nothing quite like feeling judged to make me wanna bail—just jump on the back of my motorcycle and head off into the night. But I couldn’t do that now, and not just because I’d left my bike back at Hannah’s apartment. It was because I wanted to be here for her through this. I wanted to plant my feet and
stay
. And I wanted her to see that I could do that, that I was capable of being more than just a good lay. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I wanted a woman to look at me and see more than just the mask I wore to fool the rest of the world.

Hannah really had changed me. Or maybe she’d just made me more of who I was to begin with—who I
actually
was. Either way, I owed her. There was no way I was backing out on her now, when she needed me the most.

I was just moving to sit on the curb when I happened to glance out into the parking lot and see a familiar figure headed toward me beneath the glow of a streetlamp. I squinted, sure I was seeing things—some kind of nightmare mirage, maybe—but no. I was right. After everything that had happened today, it seemed like life had one last kick in the nuts for me.

I waited for her to get close to me before I called out to her. “The hell are you doin’ here, Tanya?”

She’d been digging in her purse for something. She hadn’t even seen me. My voice took her off guard and she screeched to a halt in her high heels, mouth open, brow furrowed. We hadn’t spoken hardly two words to one another since the last time she called, and that certainly hadn’t turned out to be what I’d consider a civil conversation. I had no idea how to treat her, whether or not we were still even friends—or if I wanted to be. So I did what I was good at. I stared her down.

“I’m here to bail out a friend,” she said slowly, coming a little closer to where I sat. “What’re you doing here? Jesus, you look a mess…”

I touched the worst of my bruises—the one across my cheek. “Seen better days,” I admitted with a shrug. “But at least I’m not here to post money on account of some deadbeat boyfriend. I mean, I’m just guessing here, but I kinda assumed that’s what ‘bailing out a friend’ was code for.”

Tanya tightened her lips into a thin, red line. Then she started to walk past me, toward the precinct doors. “Like that’s any of your business. You don’t give a shit, remember?” And then, lower, probably thinking I couldn’t hear her, she added, “Maybe if you did, I wouldn’t be dating this asshole.”

I turned to snark at her over my shoulder, but then her words caught up to me and I stopped. Shit. Tanya really had no idea how good a woman she was. How good a woman she could be, anyway, when she wasn’t letting some guy twist her all up in knots—including me.

“Hey,” I said, and she stopped again, looking back at me. Taking a deep breath, I told her, “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

She eyed me warily. Glanced at the doors, then back at me. “…thank you.”

I stood up, wincing as my muscles protested. I hadn’t fought like that in a long damn time—maybe not ever—and it was occurring to me now that maybe I should’ve stretched first. “I’m sorry, too, that things didn’t… y’know, that they didn’t work out. Maybe before you couldn’t hear me because I’d just hurt you. I know what pain can do to a person. How it can make them deaf, dumb, and blind in the ways only a broken heart can. So I’ll say it again now. It wasn’t you, Tanya. It was me.” I stopped a couple feet away from her. “I just wasn’t ready for a relationship. You were great, though.”

“But you’re ready for one with her,” Tanya said softly. “With Hannah.”

I smiled as much as my cut lip would allow. “I just met the right person. You will too. It probably ain’t the guy you’re here to pick up, though.”

She shook her head, but I was sure I saw the faintest glimmer of a smile. “Probably not. I just…” A helpless shrug. “I don’t do well on my own. You know?”

“Shit, honey,” I laughed, “you’re preaching to the choir. C’mon, I hop beds more than most guys my age hop bars.” I looked down into her face and once again saw the hurt there. More gently, I added, “I know it’s not easy. And I made it so much harder for you. I should’ve cut things off when I knew you wanted more, Tanya. I should’ve ended it then, but I didn’t, and I just ended up hurting you so much worse.”

She looked away again and her shoulders slumped. At the risk of sending the wrong signal, I reached over and touched her chin, turning her face back to meet my gaze. “It would’ve been better that way,” I said, “and you know it.”

It took her a moment to agree. But eventually, with a sigh, she did. “Yeah. I think maybe it would’ve been. We both got in over our heads, and now…”

She trailed off, and I knew what she’d left unspoken. I knew the kind of damage we’d both done had ruined any chance of us maintaining our friendship. That hurt way more than I’d expected it to. Tanya and I were close before we started fucking, and I knew I was going to miss the hell out of her now. Made me wish I’d kept my distance, or at least kept it in my pants.

Tanya was walking away from me again when I called out, “Hey. You deserve to be loved, Tanya. You really, truly do. And you know what else? Whoever that guy is waiting for you in there… I say leave him. You can do better.”

The doors opened in front of her, but she didn’t go through just yet. She was looking at me, lips parted, eyes a little misty under the sickly outdoor lights. She didn’t come any closer, but she didn’t turn away, either. She fidgeted with her purse strap for a little while, like she couldn’t figure out what to say back to me, and I let out a soft breath of disappointment. We’d always been able to talk to each other about the big things. But now we were no better than strangers.

“Thank you,” Tanya said at last. The openness of her face told me she meant it. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear from you, Ash. Just that… I mattered. It means a lot.”

I closed my eyes. Damn. Maybe I wasn’t as good to all those women as I’d thought.

Slowly, she abandoned the open doors to the police station and worked her way back to me, her eyes cast at the ground. I was just about to offer to walk her to her car one last time when she stopped some distance away and said, “But… and shit, I’m sorry, Ash… in some ways, it’s too little, too late.”

I frowned at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tanya bit her lip. The way her pretty eyes creased at the corners, I knew whatever she was gonna say next, it wasn’t something that would come easy.

“I did something, Ash,” she whispered. “And it’s something you’re not gonna like…”

T
here
. It was done.

I’d finally, for the sake of my sisters, faced my fear and filed an official report with the Bright Falls police station concerning my rape and abuse. I’d told my story to someone who had the power to do something about it—to at least make sure that no one else in the village went through what I’d had to.

So why did I feel like it had amounted to nothing other than a terrible trip down Memory Lane and a huge waste of my time? Why did I feel like I’d bared the stains on my soul to these people, and all I had to show for it was a lousy business card with the lead detective’s name on it?

Probably because the detectives had seemed disinterested, at best. They made a point to keep reminding me a lot of time had passed, that I’d failed to get a rape kit taken, and that surely any evidence back at the village was long gone by now. They could question my father, certainly, as well as the village elders. But the unspoken question they asked was,
What would be the point?
In the end, it’d be my word against theirs.

Unless the police caught them red-handed with some other girl. I shuddered at the thought. No, I hoped they didn’t. If that was the only alternative, then I hoped they went out there and found nothing at all.

On some level, though, it was… liberating. Knowing I’d done absolutely everything I could do took a burden off my shoulders, one I hadn’t realized was so damn heavy until it was gone. I’d set a precedent, just like Ash had said. Now, if any other girl ever came forward, there was a file on my father already. And maybe she’d come in right after it happened, and maybe there’d be evidence.

If I could help this imaginary girl, it would all be worth it. I just hoped it wouldn’t be one of my sisters. I hoped like hell they would stay, despite the strain on our relationship. Sarah, to my surprise, seemed to have taken the revelation of the bet in stride. Or at least, forgiven it easier than I expected after how upset she’d been in the car. Maybe blowing up at me had been cathartic enough for her to hear Reid out for his side of the story. She was with him now, in fact, and I was holding out more hope for her than I was for Beth currently. Last I’d seen my youngest sister, she was running back to the apartment with tears in her eyes. I had no idea if she and Wyatt would be able to hash it out. Beth was young, and easily heartbroken. She might not have the temperance to see things through.

That made me feel bad for Wyatt. He seemed like such a nice kid. Violent when provoked, sure, but otherwise…

I tucked my hair behind my ears and scanned the lobby for Ash. This was where I’d left him about an hour and a half ago, but now he was nowhere to be found. My chest tightened and my stomach rolled. Where the hell was he? He wouldn’t have left, surely…

Then I spotted him through the automatic glass doors to the precinct and my heart slowed a little. Crisis averted. But what was he doing out there?

And then I noticed he wasn’t alone. Tanya was with him.

Tanya, the girl whose ass I’d kicked back at the funhouse.

If there was anything I didn’t need to see coming out of an interview with two detectives who’d made it pretty damn clear my rape meant next to nothing for them, it was this. I’d walked out of there feeling so drained, so vulnerable, and the sight of Tanya and Ash talking together, standing so close, made my insides turn to Jell-O. I wanted to just sit down on the floor of the Bright Falls police department and never get up again, maybe hide under one of these chairs for all eternity. But I couldn’t do that. I had to get home. I had to check in on my sisters.

And I had to find out what the hell Ash was doing with
her.

As I made my way to the doors, I saw Tanya lightly touch Ash’s arm and begin to back away. His arms were folded over his chest, but when she moved, he dropped them like he might reach out for her. She shook her head at him in return, and then as the doors opened, she looked up at me. Some emotion flashed across her face for a moment, but in the dim lighting, I couldn’t tell what it was. It was gone a moment later when she looked to Ash again, said, “I really am sorry,” and turned tail to hurry through the parking lot toward her car.

“The fuck was that about?” I hissed at her retreating form. “Don’t tell me she was trying to get back with you—again?”

But one good look at Ash told me that was most definitely not the case. His fists were clenched at his sides, so tight that his knuckles had cracked open and started to bleed again. If looks could kill, the one he was sending Tanya’s way would’ve made her spontaneously combust. The muscle in his jaw twitched, hard, making the inky pattern of his bruise throb like a black and angry heart.

Softly, I took one of his fists and began to unlace his fingers. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Ash looked at me. His ears were red. “Remember how that security guard escorted Tanya off the premises the night of the carnival? And how that security guard turned out to be the same asshole your father sent after you, and later, after your sisters?”

I snorted. “Of course I do.” How the hell could I forget?

He continued. “Yeah, well, there’s more to that story than you think. More than even I realized.” He took a deep breath. “Tanya gave him information on me. On what little she knew about us. Filled him in on where I lived, what jobs I worked. Told him about Trick Shots and everything else she knew. That’s how my apartment got trashed.” He shook his head in disgust. “I gave him my fucking business card, like an idiot, but she led him right to us.”

I had, up until this moment, lacked someone I could blame—or at least, someone besides myself who I might also be able to take in a fight. But this news that Tanya had helped contribute to what had happened today, that she’d had some hand in me and my sisters’ unhappiness…

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill her,” I said, pulling away from Ash and heading out into the parking lot.

“For Christ’s sakes, Hannah, no!” he growled, wrapping his fingers around my arm and pulling me back to him. I slammed right into his chest, looking up into his fiery eyes as he said, “Tanya… she didn’t know he was bad news, all right? Not at the time. The guy did a good job of convincing her it was a legit line of questioning. She was so angry at us, at me, that she didn’t think to be suspicious until it was way too late.” I tried to wrest away from him and Ash sighed, grabbing my shoulders. “Look, this is my fault.”

I couldn’t believe he was defending her. “I don’t see how,” I gritted through my teeth.

“I know you don’t,” he said, “because despite what you try to show the world, I know now that you’re the kind of person who wants to see the best in the people they care about. Look how you are with your sisters. Look at all the sacrifices you’ve made for them—shielding their innocence for as long as you could, at your own expense; coming here to ensure the same men who hurt you can never hurt anyone and get away with it again. You want to protect them, and sometimes that means idealizing them. Making them out to be better than you are, so you can justify putting them on a pedestal. But Hannah…” He took my hand. “…I did Tanya wrong. I made a huge mistake with her, on so many levels. What she did was wrong too, but me? I’m the one who started it. And I’ve gotta take responsibility for that. I have to be a grown-up.”

I started to protest again, but Ash lifted my hand to his face on the side where he wasn’t horribly bruised. He leaned into my palm, looking down at me with such honesty, such openness in his eyes I couldn’t rebuff him. The words died before they left my lips, rendering me silent as he continued.

“I don’t want to be some arrogant child anymore,” he said. “I want to be a man. A man who’s worthy of someone as brave, as strong, and as beautiful as you are, Hannah Miller. I want to start taking responsibility for the things I do—the things I’ve done. I don’t want to run from feelings and attachments. I want to stand my ground the way you always do. I want to be the person who defends you while you’re defending others. It’s… it’s amazing how you do that. You know?” And for the first time ever, I saw a glimmer of vulnerability in Ash’s eyes. “It’s… what I love most about you.”

I searched his face for the lie. For the tell that would let me know he was putting me on. But there was no dishonesty there, no mask to hide what he really felt. For the first time ever, Ash had said “love” … and meant it.

I put my arms around him and pulled him in tight. And I held him like that for a long while on the sidewalk in front of the police station, saying nothing, doing nothing except coming to terms with the fact that Ash Brody was in love. With me.

And I was in love with him.

“I love you too,” I said once I was sure I could do so without bursting into tears. “I just… Christ, I hope it’s over now. All this… bad. I hope we can move past it now.”

Ash pulled away just enough to look into my eyes. With a faint trace of his trademark, roguish smile, he said, “I’m ready if you are.”

And I was.