Page 56 of Resist

“So you moved back in with Mick?”

“The day after I got out of jail, I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Where had you planned to go when you left Jagger?”

Ainsley sighed. “Another waitress from work said I could sleep on her couch until I found a place I could afford on my own. It wasn’t a great plan, but I’d been desperate to get away from Jagger. That offer dried up when my job did. Because again…me stabbing a guy really seemed to be a sticking point for everyone at the restaurant. That left me only one option.”

“Mick.”

She nodded. “It was either go home or sleep on the street. He was a smug fucker about it too. He’d been pissed when I quit working at the bar and moved out. He made me beg, then he saddled me with a shit-ton of shifts as a way to pay penance. I didn’t have a choice because I knew I was going to get hit with a bunch of legal fees, and at the time, I was at least eighty percent sure I was going to jail. I’d been too terrified to think about the long term.”

Coulton gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. “Jesus, Ainsley. I can’t begin to imagine how scary all of that must have been for you.”

She shrugged, trying not to let him see how much his affectionate kiss and kind words were impacting her. She really needed to learn how to manage her expectations with Coulton, because nothing good was going to come of this. It never did.

“Does your asshole father even fucking pay you?” Coulton asked hotly.

“Of course he does. I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t work for free. It’s just…not a lot. The money we make from the tavern these days goes into one account, and that’s what we use to pay all the bills. It used to be more, but with his medical issues,” she sighed, “whatever’s left at the end of the month is split between me and Mick, and lately…”

She stopped talking, her eyes darting around Coulton’s very clean, well-furnished, bougie-ass condo, and her pride kicked in. It was hard for her to admit just how poor she was. Not that she had to. Coulton had seen the truth up close and personal when he’d picked her up for their date. She’d been absolutely stunned he hadn’t taken one look at the shithole she called home, turned on his heel, and gotten the hell out of there.

Coulton looked only slightly appeased by her response. “If you could be anything you wanted and money wasn’t an object, what would you be?”

Ainsley opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again because she didn’t have an answer to that. She hadn’t lied when she said she didn’t dream. Dreams were built on hope, and that was something she’d lost a long time ago.

Coulton called his little voice common sense.

She called her voice reality. And while she’d always thought it was there to protect her, now she was wondering if it had also held her back. She hated to think she’d been making excuses for not trying, but now that she considered it…

God. Coulton was really getting into her head. Every time she had tried to better her life, she’d gotten knocked right back down on her ass. And while that sucked, when the hell had she stopped getting up?

The idea that she’d settled—or worse, given up—didn’t sit well with her.

“Honestly,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

She expected Coulton to press the subject, but something on her face must have told him she was telling the truth. “Do me a favor,” he said, squeezing her hip. “Give it some thought.”

“Ooookay,” she said, shooting him a funny look, because why? Rather than ask, she just agreed. She’d already said way more than she was comfortable with. “I will,” she lied.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Coulton gave her a cheeky grin, one that said he knew he was pushing her.

“Sure. Why hold back now?” she joked, even though this conversation had well passed the limit in terms of her comfort zone.

“Why do you stay with Mick? You got a job at a restaurant once. Why not do it again? There are other places to live in Baltimore.”

Ainsley bit her lower lip. That question was harder to answer than the one about her dreams. She blew out a long, slow breath. “I…don’t know.”

Coulton wasn’t letting her get away with that lame response, so he waited her out.

“You missed your calling,” she said disgruntledly. “You should have been a shrink.”

He chuckled but didn’t take the bait, lifting one eyebrow as he waited for her reply.

Ainsley hadn’t known the answer to the dream question, but she knew this one. Even if she hated it. “He’s a shitty dad, but he’s still my dad,” she said. “He’s mean and cruel and a total bastard. I know he doesn’t love me. Hell, he doesn’t even like me, and the only reason he keeps me around is to use me, but, apart from Eli, he’s the only family I have. When Mom left, saddling him with two brats…”

Coulton narrowed his eyes.

“Mick’s words, not mine,” she hastened to add. “He didn’t ditch us. I know that’s a low bar, but I had some friends from school who were growing up in the foster system. They were constantly getting shuffled around from place to place, and some of those homes were…well…they were really dangerous. Especially for the girls. Better the devil you know, I guess.” She shrugged. “Shortly after the Jagger ordeal, Mick first got the COPD diagnosis, and he started struggling at the tavern. Now, he can’t work, and I don’t know. I feel like…”

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