Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 17761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
The silence stretched between us, but it was comfortable, and I was grateful for having his company.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but firm. “You gonna tell me what you’re running from?”
My stomach clenched, and my grip tightened around the glass in my hand. “Who says I’m running?” The lie was thick and sour on my tongue.
Ash let out a low exhale, tossing the rag over his shoulder as he leaned against the bar and looked at me. “Evie.” He didn’t go on, just stayed silent, until I eventually gave in and glanced at him. “I can look in your eyes and know that whatever brought you into my bar days ago carved something deep and dark into you.” His eyes locked onto mine. “I know it’s hard for you to trust. But I hope after these few days with me that you can see my intentions toward you are genuine and pure, and all I want is to make sure you’re safe.”
I looked away, his gaze burning into me as he seeked the truth. I stared at the countertop like it held all the answers I didn’t want to give, and then I sighed.
“Evie Harper,” I whispered, and I lifted my eyes to see he was smiling.
“You gave me your last name.” His smile grew, as if I’d just given him the best gift.
I didn’t respond, because the tone in his voice told me he was… happy.
Anger at myself and my situation rolled through me. “You know nothing about me.” I squeezed my eyes shut, because I’d known this moment was inevitable.
“I don’t need to be told anything to know that you’re hurting,” he countered softly. The words were simple. Direct. They hit harder than I wanted them to.
A sharp exhale escaped me, and I swallowed, my throat tight, my heart pounding in my chest. The anger that had been buried deep, that had simmered over the years and eaten away at me from the inside like a poison, suddenly bubbled over, hot and bitter.
I looked at Ash then, his expression unflinching, unwavering. Tears welled up, and I hated that I was suddenly so emotional that I couldn’t control myself. “You don’t get to look at me like that. Like you understand.”
Ash didn’t move. He didn’t react. He just waited. He just stared at me, waiting for me to feel comfortable—or angry enough—to tell him what was truly wrong.
I blinked several times, my unshed tears finally escaping and rolling down my cheeks. I aggressively wiped them away. “I used to be strong,” I snapped, my voice shaking. “I used to have a life. A real one. I used to be someone who mattered.” My breaths came out short, uneven. “And then, little by little, he took that away from me. He made me believe I was nothing. That I was worthless. That I deserved nothing except what he gave me. And when he had me so broken and beaten down that I believed it.”
Ash stayed silent, listening, giving me the time and airspace to tell my story the way I wanted to. I knew if I told him I wasn’t ready to talk about it, he would have accepted my decision.
My chest ached, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “I knew if I didn’t leave, I wouldn’t survive. So I left in the middle of the night with nothing but what I could carry.” My voice wavered, but I forced myself to keep going. “And now I’m here—with you—and I’m trying to figure out who I am again.”
Silence filled the space between us, thick and suffocating.
I turned away, shaking my head, wiping away the remnants of my tears. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” My voice was barely above a whisper.
Ash came closer, but he didn't touch me. He just stood right beside me, solid and unmoving, his presence alone sucking the air from my lungs.
I braced myself for him to say something—anything. I expected him to say I was weak or broken or foolish. That’s what I was used to. That’s what I expected.
Instead, Ash surprised me.
He reached out, rested his palm on my shoulder with the gentlest touch I’d ever felt, and turned me around so we faced each other. I didn’t recoil. Didn’t flinch. His touch was… comforting.
He stared into my eyes, this bareness in his own so prominent that it was startling to see a man—especially one so big and gruff—looking so… vulnerable.
“You’re safe,” he told me once again, his voice strained. And I couldn't react to his words or how he said them, because a second later, he pulled me into his arms.
I stiffened, but not because I didn't like his touch. In fact, it was the opposite. It surprised me, because it felt perfect and right, and when the shock finally dissipated, I relaxed and sank against him. “Ash—”