Owen closes the door behind him, and I crawl on the bed until I’m sitting next to her again. “You scared me; you know? You can’t do that. You can’t scare me. Not when I finally know you’re okay,” I say, staring directly into her eyes so she knows I’m not fucking around. “You aren’t allowed.”
“I’m not allowed?” she asks, lifting a brow and crossing her arms. I smirk at her attitude. She’s usually full of it, but understandably she hasn’t been herself. Her sass is there though, underneath the fear and turmoil, and it’s wanting to come out and play, but she’s suppressing it.
“Nope,” I pop the P and lean back until I’m up against the headboard.
“So glad I have a choice,” she says.
I hand her a muffin while it’s still warm, then press play on the movie. “Hush and watch the movie. The beginning is the best part.” It’s a cheesy 80’s music video. The song itself is super catchy.
She bites into the muffin and groans as the flavor bursts in her mouth. “Oh my god, that’s delicious.”
“You understand my addiction now, right?”
She nods as she digs in, taking big bites that are too big for her mouth, which has me thinking of other things that I’m not allowed to think about yet. She hands me the wrapper and I happily put it on the tray, then hand her the bowl of strawberries.
Heather doesn’t ask questions and she doesn’t push the food away. She happily takes the berries from me and bites into one, her eyes glued onto the tv mounted on the wall, but my attention is glued on her. If that bastard was still alive, I’d kill him myself. I’m not a killer, but I’d do whatever I need to for her to keep her safe. I hate seeing her body bruised, her skin cut, her strength damaged and her armor kinked.
In time I know she will heal, and her armor will be as strong and flawless as when I first saw her. She guarded herself like a knight— no— like a queen because I truly believe women are stronger than men and calling her a knight would be a disgrace.
She doesn’t need me to help her heal, but I sure hope she wants me there for the journey because I can’t imagine being anywhere else except right here with her.
Six
Heather
Watching a movie with Asher is something I never thought would happen. I could use this opportunity to talk to him about what happened all those years ago since we are alone. I’m nervous. I’ve thought about this moment in my head ever since I sent that letter while he was in prison. There were a hundred things I wanted to say, but now I can’t think of one word.
I glance away from the tv and look at him. I mean really stare at him to see if what I’m feeling is real or if it’s all in my head. This is Asher Haven, the prominent son of Senator Mike Haven. Asher is a known playboy, a guy that couldn’t keep it in his pants for more than a day, and I never remembered him having a girlfriend. I knew he wanted me all those years ago, but what about now? Would he still want me now after what’s happened? Does he look at me the same as he did when we were seventeen? Innocent, naïve, beautiful, and reckless?
Well, he was, I was an angel, and I know it drove him nuts that I never gave into him, but it was the self-control I had to keep a tight hold on because if I gave into him, I would have been left destroyed.
“Oh, this is funny. It’s my favorite part,” he points to the tv with his right finger and in his other hand is the hot chocolate that he is slowly sipping. “He pops his hip for the dance, but he hurts himself.”
I don’t laugh because I’m curious about how Asher’s mind works. How does he do it? How does he find laughter, joy, and happiness in everything he looks at or touches? He has experienced the worst of the worst in life, and he still seems like that innocent kid when he was seventeen. He has a youthful heart and it’s beautiful because so many people let the darkness get to them.
Like me.
I don’t know how to be like Asher. He is a special breed, the kind of man that people only come across once in their lives.
“What?” he catches me staring at the profile of his face. He rubs his cheek with his hand and brings it in front of his face. “Is something on my cheek again? I swear, I can be the messiest eater, sometimes.”
“No, no, it isn’t that. Your face is perfect.” Oh, I did not mean to say that. My cheeks go ablaze, and I scoot further away from him as my embarrassment triples by the second. “I meant there is no food on your face.” I can feel the blood rush to my face, and I know I look like a tomato.
“Hey,” his finger touches my chin to turn my head to him, and I flinch. The devastation in his eyes speak a thousand words.
“I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t hurt me,” I admit and pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs. It’s a position I find myself getting into way too much. It’s safe curling in on myself. “He touched me like that, and I can’t get over—”
He interrupts me, “Don’t ever apologize for your body’s natural reaction to keep yourself safe. It hurt, but it doesn’t compare to the pain he made you feel, so don’t for one minute apologize, okay?” he lays his hand on top of mine, and I let out a breath, relieved. “I’m going to be here for you and the day you don’t flinch away, that’s a day I know you’ve gotten your armor back.”
“My armor?” I question, not understanding his reference.
“It’s an internal thought I’ve had. Don’t mind me,” he says.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it, Heather.”
A breath whooshes out me, and I shake my head, becoming emotion when the words ball up in my chest and push against my bones to be set free. “No, I’m sorry for all those years ago, for what happened with Grace. I was so angry at the world, Asher, and you were there to take the blame and the fall. The fall for something you didn’t do.”