Chapter 33

ASHER

I’m roused from sleep by my mother’s gentle touch. Her hand on my cheek, my name whispered softly.

“Asher, it’s time to get up,” she murmurs.

I blink open my eyes, finding myself alone in her bed, and for a fleeting moment, I wish she would climb in so I could rest my head in her lap like old times.

Her fingers sift through my hair, a soothing gesture. But relaxation eludes me, and I know I need to rise.

Today is the day, after all—the day I take those girls under my wing. Not in a perverse way, mind you.

You get what I mean, right?

So, I push myself up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I gaze at my mother. She’s glowing, her cheeks flushed with a radiance that makes her look as young as I am.

Breakfast is a family event, albeit two members short. I perch on the kitchen island, Indi to my side, Lorelei next to her, and Atty beside Lorelei.

The morning is filled with chatter, Indi amusing herself by making faces with the pancakes Zach has prepared. She arranges berries to form eyes, a nose, and a mouth.

I squash a raspberry with the back of a spoon, using the juice to create rosy cheeks. This sends Indi into fits of laughter.

Her toddler giggles fill the house, spreading joy as we continue our meal.

I’ve always claimed I don’t want kids, but sitting here with my younger sisters, I realize that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The real issue is the woman who would bear my child. It’s her I’m not sure I want.

That, and the emotions I’d have to invest to build a relationship that could foster a happy family.

Emotions are peculiar things. They can blossom into joy or wilt into bitterness.

I don’t believe there’s a middle ground.

Anyway, Atty was kind enough to drive me home this morning, making himself late by sticking around to drop me off at the hotel.

Not that he was up on time, anyway. He had slept next to me, rising only half an hour before I did.

I had forgotten how much fun we have together. I promise myself to spend more time with him as we drive home in silence.

In my head, I mull over the task at hand. Planning a kidnapping isn’t exactly a pleasant task, even if it’s a rescue mission.

I’m still undecided on the specifics of the operation, and part of me wants to call Fennick and demand he just drop the girls off at my doorstep.

“You know, like normal people do. Or as normal as people who buy girls for sex can be,” I mutter to myself.

But I know that won’t satisfy his twisted need to cater to my fabricated desires.

And believe me, I regret ever expressing a desire to kidnap these innocent girls.

So, I spend the hours after I get home psyching myself up. I wash, shave, and make myself presentable before heading to the club at nine.

I figure the cover of darkness would be the best time to execute this plan—to hide the fact that I’ll be forcibly taking these girls from Fennick.

My car has been granted access to the underground parking lot, which should provide enough cover for me to act.

Though I’m sure Fennick’s clients are all depraved enough not to bat an eye if they saw me taking the girls.

In a moment of stupidity, I requested the girls be tied up and ready for me in the basement of the car park—alone.

I didn’t want anyone else around. The girls were to be bound, gagged, and waiting for me—or so I thought would be best to ask for.

“God, how awful can one feel for even contemplating such a thing, let alone making it happen?” I whisper, my voice trembling.

My stomach churns all the way to Sanctum. It feels like a ball of fire—desperate to escape from one end or the other.

“Why am I doing this? Why do I always find myself in trouble at every turn?” I ask myself, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Then I pull into the underground car park, descending level by level until I find myself in what feels like the very bowels of hell.

The lot is empty, despite having space for thirty or more cars. I slam on the brakes, my tires screeching in protest as I panic at the sight of the two girls.

They’re tied back to back, their hands and feet bound. Gags in their mouths.

I’m grateful I had the foresight to move the dash cam to this car before leaving my apartment.

“This will provide some solid proof.” But I’m not just implicating them; I’m implicating myself too, Asher.

I sit in a tense silence, the two girls looking at me through the windshield, their eyes wide and frightened.

They’re waiting to see what I’ll do next.

Their safety is in my hands, and I know that deep down, but I shouldn’t be here.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be putting my family at risk, but it seems I’m their only hope.

I’ve somehow become their savior, and I’ll be damned if I let them down after creating this chance to help them.

That, and half a million dollars seems like a lot to throw away for nothing in return.

So, I muster up the courage from within, park the car, and open the door, my breath held in anticipation.

Just as I’m about to step out of the car, a text comes in.

“Don’t forget the money,” it says.

I clench my jaw, wire the remaining money over, and then look around, realizing there must be cameras.

Why did I think there wouldn’t be any?

“Money, money, money.” I make a bold gesture, saluting as the transfer completes, and immediately another text comes in.

“Enjoy.” That’s all it says.

I wish I could say that parting with half a million dollars would bring me some sort of satisfaction, but I highly doubt I’ll gain anything from this.

Nothing but irritation, at least until I figure out how to get these girls out of my life, out of my apartment, without them returning to fucking Sanctum.

I walk toward the girls with determination, shoving my phone into my suit pants.

“Girls,” I growl, my anger directed more at myself than at them.

I take a moment to untie the long rope that thankfully separates them, then I pull each of them to their feet.

I’m relieved to see they’re both dressed appropriately—slutty school uniforms and all.

The knee-high socks…skirts rolled up so high their thighs are exposed.

Fuck, I force myself to look away.

They’re off-limits; I’m not going to touch them.

I roughly pull them toward the car, annoyed that they resist me.

You’d think they’d want to escape—to cooperate, but no, neither of them do.

They whimper and struggle every step of the way, so much so that I lift the blonde over my shoulder to better handle the brunette.

I wonder how long it’ll take for them to reveal their real names and drop the fake nicknames Miracle and Spitfire.

I push them both into the back seats, slam the doors, and scan the area with a fierce gaze before climbing into the front of the car.

And then I drive—no seatbelts, no safety precautions.

I speed out of the parking lot without taking a breath, and only when I leave Sanctum and hit the open road do I let out a sigh.

“Why did you fucking fight me?” I yell at them.

Neither of them respond; they just stare at me with wide, worried eyes.

~Fuck, Asher, it’s not their fault you just bought them!~