Chapter 29

ASHER

I have to prove I am clean and safe for the two girls I’ve just spent two hundred and fifty grand on. That is my parting gift to Fennick. That night, I drown myself in alcohol, reading and re-reading the documents I’ve signed my life away on.

These papers incriminate me just as much as the bank transfer does Fennick. By Wednesday, I am calling in sick to work, and again on Thursday, just to be safe. How can I face Daniel at work knowing I’ve paid for the right to sleep with two sixteen-year-old girls?

I won’t lie, I don’t mind a younger woman, but sixteen? There’s no way in hell I’ll touch either of them, no matter how attractive they are. So, I stay in my apartment, drinking and smoking weed until I am numb.

What am I thinking, parting with half a million dollars? That’s nearly a sixth of my total wealth. And it’s not going to magically replenish itself.

Looking back, I realize I’ve screwed myself out of years’ worth of rent, bills, food, and partying. I can only hope these girls appreciate what I’m doing for them.

Then there’s the issue of medical insurance. It’s not cheap for them, but I have to arrange it—a requirement.

I shake my head at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“Who are you, Asher?”

I wish I had an answer to that crucial question. But I don’t, and I don’t have an answer because this past week has been a wake-up call to the disgusting decisions I can make regarding other people.

“Half a million…”

Is that all they’re worth to me? Or is it too much?

I laugh at the irony of not being able to decide. The shower beckons, screaming my name, begging me to wash away the filth of drugs and alcohol. So, I clean myself, scrubbing more than once to get rid of the lingering smell.

Today, I’ve decided to seek advice from my father—Tyler. Maybe he can offer more insight than Callum did.

Zach might have been a better choice, but there’s no way I’m going to him for anything. So, I get dressed for the first time in days—jeans and a blue top, my go-to outfit. I use coffee as liquid courage and pop a few mints before heading downstairs barefoot.

Then I find myself outside his office, my hand hovering next to the door as I muster up the courage to knock. I have no idea how I’m going to handle this. I don’t know what to say, but I need advice.

I’m searching for something, though I’m not sure what. The door opens before I can knock, my brother looking at me in surprise as he sizes me up.

“Well, hi,” Tyler greets me from his desk while Atty remains silent.

“Hey,” I respond with a dark smile. It probably looks more like a grimace, but oh well.

“I have to go to a meeting—text me?” Atty asks, sidestepping me to leave.

“Sure.” I nod, wondering if this is a good time for him to have one of those nights over. Considering I plan to shelter two underage girls in my apartment starting this weekend, it might be.

Maybe tonight can be the night, the one I spend with Atty. The one I enjoy before I start worrying that someone might report me for having girls in my apartment who shouldn’t be there.

“Hey,” I call after him. “Dinner after work?” I suggest.

“Sure, I’ll meet you at six in the restaurant, usual table,” he yells back down the hall.

I nod, look down to gather my courage again, and then I walk into my father’s office only to find Caterina, the hotel manager, at her desk. Will I ever catch a break today?

“How are you, son?” Tyler asks, filing paperwork into Manila envelopes, much like the one I have of the girls in my apartment.

I sit down in front of him, frowning at the envelope that reminds me so much of the secrets I’m keeping. I can’t tell how long I’ve been staring at the envelope, but it must be long enough to worry my dad because he clears his throat and asks Caterina to give us some privacy.

“What’s up?” he questions.

“Nothing,” I respond instantly, my default defense mechanism whenever they suspect I’m not handling things well.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Asher. You obviously need something from me, but I can’t help if you don’t share. So spill it.”

He sets everything aside—a clear indication that he’s ready to sit and listen. That’s more than I can say for Callum.

Where do I even begin? What words should I use? I can’t just blurt out the truth. That would be reckless, especially since I haven’t secured the girls yet. Maybe once they’re safe, it will be the right time, but not now. Now is not the time for reckless honesty.

“I,” I start, trying to figure out where to begin. I think about the girls, about Maddison and the other faces in that damning folder waiting for me to rescue them. Then my thoughts drift to my mother; what would she do, what would she say? I’m certain she’d lend a hand. Actually, I know she would.

“How did you save Mom?” The words tumble out before I can stop them.

“Um.”

I’ve caught Tyler off guard; I don’t think we’ve ever asked about Mom’s past. We’ve always known bits and pieces of it, and I’m sure Ella knows the most, especially after that man died in her studio. But I don’t think any of us has ever had the courage to ask our parents about the truth, about the past.

“Well.” He begins, his hands resting in his lap. There’s no tremor, no sign of nervousness as he gathers his thoughts. I don’t see any anger or resentment in his eyes, just a far-off look. He’s not here, not in this room. His memories have transported him to another time.

Perhaps to the time when he rescued my mother from the man who had kidnapped her and held her captive. A time that might provide me with some guidance on how to handle the situation with Maddison and all the other girls…and boys still trapped in Sanctum. And any other club in this area involved in the same horrific business.