Page 14 of Hiding for the Holidays
“Put your bag on.” He holds out the straps, and I turn around and push my arms through them. “I have to get on first, then you get on behind me. Be careful and try not to use that hand.” He motions to my bad hand, then swings a leg over the bike and gestures for me to follow.
Today he’s wearing deep blue jeans and a black hoodie. “Hey…” I say, pointing to his chest then mine. “We’re twinning today.” He glances down at himself then looks me over, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
“Lucky me.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I swing my leg over the bike and tryto stabilize myself without touching him, but he grabs my good hand and wraps it around his stomach.
“You need to hold on and move with me,” he tells me before starting the engine. He pulls onto the road, and I instinctively move forward, eliminating all space between us as I wrap both arms tightly around him.
The ride is over way sooner than I’d like as I was just starting to enjoy it. Having a reason to be close to someone like him, someone who’s all power and dominance… was something I secretly hoped to experience again.
Scott was stronger than me, too, but he used it against me. I have a feeling Asher was nothing like him. At least that’s what I hoped.
He climbs off first then offers me a hand, helping me down. When I’m back on two feet, he doesn’t let me go; he leads me right into the building.
“Asher, I’m glad you’re here,” Grant calls from somewhere near the back. “Which of these sprays smells better?”
Asher keeps leading me towards the back, and when Grant sees us, his eyebrows raise in surprise. “Clara? What are you doing here so early?”
“She’s hurt,” Asher tells him, still not stopping as he leads me straight past Grant and into the back room.
“What do you mean she’s hurt?” Grant asks angrily, following us into the staff room.
Asher stops walking, turns, and grabs me by the waist as I squeak in surprise. He lifts me and places me on the counter beside the sink. He does it with such ease you’d think I was a toddler, not a hundred and sixty pound woman.
“Stay,” he commands, and my wide eyes turn to meet Grant’s.
“Are you okay?” he asks, stepping as close as he can to myside. His eyes scan me until he notices my t-shirt bandage. “What happened?”
“Can you unwrap it? I need to clean it,” Asher asks him.
Grant unwinds it carefully, throwing my shirt in the garbage behind him. I open my mouth to tell him to stop, but it’s in there before I get a noise out, so I press my lips together to keep myself silent. I couldn’t take that out of the garbage. At least not in front of them.
He tries to inspect the wound, but my entire palm is covered in blood. The sound of water makes me turn my head, and I see Asher testing the water temperature, playing with the knobs until he’s happy with it.
He grabs my wrist and guides my hand, stopping just short of the water as he glances up at me. “This will hurt a bit. I’m sorry, but I need to clean your hand so I can see what we’re working with, and I think this will be less painful than me wiping it.”
I nod my head in understanding and hiss when the water hits the wound. I wrinkle my nose and turn my head the other way, closing my eyes, hoping it will hurt less if I don’t watch.
“Do you know how cute you look when you scrunch your nose like that?” Grant asks, making my eyes pop open in surprise.
“What?” He smiles at me but stays quiet. The water switches off, and I realize Grant was just trying to distract me.
“This looks like a knife wound,” Asher says, making me turn to look at my injured hand. Grant leans between us to get a good look, then they both look up at me in question.
I press my lips together, not sure what they want me to say.
“Clara,” Grant says carefully. “Who did this to you?”
“I did.”
“Clara…” he says, a warning in his tone.
I sigh, my shoulders dropping in defeat. I reach into mypocket with my good hand and pull out the knife. I hold it out towards them in my palm.
Asher grabs it and flicks it open, inspecting the blood on the blade. Grant’s worried eyes move to mine. “Clara, did you hurt yourself on purpose?”
“What?” My head reels back in surprise. That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. “No! Of course not.” His eyes flick to Asher as if he doesn’t believe me, and I realize I’m going to have to give him more information; otherwise he’ll think I’m a suicide risk.
