Page 91 of Captive Audience
I glanced at Aidan. “Can you handle this mess?”
He choked back a laugh. “Who died and made you boss?”
“I have somewhere I need to be.”
“Wouldn’t happen to be the bed of a certain little redhead, would it?”
Was it that obvious? “Can you clean this up or not?”
“Aye. But you owe me.” He gave me a knowing look. “I’ll have someone bring a truck to move the guns and electrical goods. Make this look like a theft.”
“Good plan.”
After the night I’d had, all I wanted was to get home to check on my wife.
I showeredin a bathroom down the hall so I didn’t wake Asha. It felt good to scrub the blood from under my fingernails and rid myself of the stench of that wretched container.
My raging mind only calmed when I found Asha sleeping peacefully in my bed. Lips slightly parted, long auburn hair unruly, and a pillow clutched in her arms like a stuffed toy.
One day soon, we’d find the Soul Collector, and Asha would be free to leave me.
How was I supposed to come home to a lifeless apartment? How was I supposed to crawl into this bed each night weary but unable to sleep without her?
When I’d decided to take Asha and make her my wife, I’d known it was a selfish act. A one-sided deal in which she had everything to lose and I had everything to gain.
But now, it felt like Asha would have the last laugh. She’d go back to her life, her podcast, and her friends, and I’d be left here wishing like hell she’d stayed.
I’d miss her. Maybe even more than I missed Niall, and that was terrible to admit.
Panic reached for my throat and gripped it tight.
I was overcome with the urge to touch Asha, to smell her, to know she was with me and safe.
I slid into bed behind her, curled my arm around her waist, and gently tucked her against my bare chest. She stirred, but not enough to fully wake.
I kissed Asha’s neck and breathed in her scent, holding it in my lungs until they burned. “Sleep, Wildfire. Let your monster hold you tonight.”
Because there would be no fucking pillow wall between us anymore.
36
ASHA
Iwoke to a soft electric whir. Opening one eye, I found the bedroom’s automatic blinds rising, revealing early-morning sunlight and the city skyline covered in a thick blanket of fog.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the only thing I discovered.
Because I was clinging to Rook like a python curled around its prey. And that prey was pure warmth and hard muscles wrapped in a delicious man scent.
Maybe if I stayed perfectly still, he’d get up and go to work and we could pretend this never happened.
“Morning, pet,” he said in a casual tone.
Crap on a cracker.
“You’re here,” I mumbled, my face smooshed against his chest.
“Aye. Inmybed. Who’d have thought?”
