Fractured Fear (The Devils of New York #1)

Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

SPENCER

I blew it. My one chance and I fucking blew it. They’re all still in danger. I was supposed to take the threat with me when I left.

Asher steps into my apartment, causing me to take a few steps back. I almost tumble onto my ass from how bad my knees are shaking. My breathing picks back up again. Asher pauses a few feet inside, but I keep inching backwards.

His face is furious. His anger is thundering out of him and crashing into me. My thighs finally hit the back of the couch, and I attempt to sink further away from Asher’s wrath.

“I said, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I expect his voice to boom, his hand to rear back. But neither happens. His fury is contained, but nonetheless frightening.

I hear a crinkle of paper and glance down to Asher’s fist. He’s holding my letters. All of them. In his other fist, one is opened.

Double shit.

He lifts it up and begins to read as he stalks toward me. “I won’t let him get to you. I know you probably hate me, but in the short time I’ve known you, you’ve made me feel safe and cared for. You, Rio, and Zane have given me something I’ve been missing.”

“Stop.” I lift my hands in front of me, pleading. I can’t hear anymore. It ripped my heart to write the letters, I don’t need to hear my deepest thoughts expressed out loud. Asher ignores my hands and continues forward. “What? Can’t take it?”

“I get it, okay?”

“Do you? Do you get it?” His voice stays even. The calm before the storm.

“Yes!” I shout.

“I don’t think you do. I don’t think you know what it was like for those three minutes that I couldn’t find you,” his voice begins to waver. “One hundred and eighty seconds of pure torture, thinking I failed you. Thinking the psycho coming for you, finally got his hands on you. So no, you don’t fucking get it, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice cracks and the dam breaks. Tears flow freely down my face. I scared him. This giant man with the hard exterior. I frightened him. He doesn’t strike me as someone who scares easily or someone who handles it well. His carefully composed facade is cracking in front of me. The mask is fracturing and the glimpse I’m getting behind it breaks my heart.

“Who is ‘him’ and why do you think he would come for us? What has you so afraid?”

His question sucks all the oxygen from my lungs. I won’t go back. Never again.

I steel my spine, and remind myself the less they know the better. “That’s none of your business.”

“Excuse me? I’d say that it damn well is my business. What has you so spooked that you think running is the answer? What was it about the flowers yesterday that freaked you out?” He’s only inches away from me now and I have to crane my neck to see his face. He’s rebuilt his mask and the cold facade is firmly back in place.

I cool my features to match his. He’s already on the right trail. I can’t let him figure it out. I’d like to think I mask my emotions well, but the truth is I know I’m an open book to these guys. “It’s nothing,” I answer him. His nostrils flare and he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Did you stop to think what running would do to Rio and Z?” His question makes me flinch.

“Of course I did.” He’s pushing my buttons and he knows he hit the right spot.

“Really? Because it seems like you couldn’t wait to leave.”

“That’s not fair. I don’t have a choice,” he’s itching for a fight and lucky for him I’m willing to give him one because never again will I be someone’s punching bag. “Do you actually think I wanted this? That I wanted to leave you all behind? Writing those letters, walking out the door. It killed me.” I didn’t realize I was shouting until I was done. My chest heaving with the anger of the moment. He pushed and now he gets to live with the consequences.

“You really want to know why?” I ask. He says nothing. “I’m terrified of Anthony. Just the thought of him being here has me trembling head to toe. He’ll kill anyone who gets close to me without batting an eye. He wants me back, but I’ll never go with him. Over my dead fucking body.” Asher winces, but I don’t feel bad.

Don’t corner a wounded animal. She’ll snap right back at you.

“So yes, I know he’ll come here and take you all from me. I am willing to do the one thing that’ll prevent that from happening. I’ll leave.”

“Just like that?”

I nod my head. “Just like that. I already have things arranged so Hayes will get everything. Clay Creations, Abstract Dreams, my apartment. I left a letter for everyone. All you have to do is step aside and I’ll be on my way.”

Asher’s face is stuck on an expression of rage, and he says nothing. The silence stretches between us. The only sound is our heavy breaths.

When he speaks again it’s with finality. “You’re not fucking leaving.” Before I can get another word out he’s dropped the letters, knocked my hat off my head, and smashes his lips to mine.

It takes me a moment to realize what’s happening. We went from shouting to kissing within minutes, but I would expect nothing less from us. We get under each other’s skin in a way that drives the other mad. The stolen glances, the lingering touches. We were a ticking time bomb, and now that we have detonated it’s nothing but exploding fireworks.

His hands land on my hips and his tongue sweeps across the seam of my lips, demanding entry. I bring my hands up to his chest thinking I’ll push him away, but instead my body reacts on instinct.

I grip his neatly pressed shirt pulling him closer and opening my mouth to him. Our tongues and teeth clash, punishing each other. I’ve never been kissed like this before. My panties flood and my core throbs.

He removes my bags from my shoulders, and groans as his tongue invades my mouth again. Each swipe ratchets my need higher and higher. His hand snakes up my back and dives into my hair. He uses his grip to tilt my head to the side for a better angle, plunging his tongue deeper. His other hand moves south, seizing my ass. He pulls me closer and grinds into me. His slacks don’t hide his thick length. I moan and writhe against him.

I need more. I need him inside me. My pussy aches to be filled.

My sounds spur him on and the next thing I know he’s gripping my thighs and lifting me up. My ankles lock at the small of his back and my hands clutch his shoulders. His lips meet mine again and we battle each other for control, neither willing to give it to the other.

I glide my hands up his neck and to his luscious, thick hair. I undo his bun and cast aside his hair tie. His hair is shoulder length and soft to the touch. I scrape my short nails along his scalp which makes him moan.

“Do that again,” he orders.

I grin at him and tug on his hair instead.

“Not what I said, Princess.”

“I know,” I say smugly, and then smash my lips back to this and run my nails along his scalp again.

The front door bangs open causing Asher and I to break apart. Rio is standing there frantically scanning the room. When he finally registers mine and Asher’s precarious position, a smile slowly slides into place. “Why wasn’t I invited to the party?”

Before I can explain, I yelp as I’m crashing into the couch with a bounce.

That fucker dropped me.