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My heart races as I look into his eyes, searching for answers. “All those years ago, he threatened to steal everything I loved if I told anyone what he’d done.”
The memory of his voice sends shivers down my spine.
I can see the anger bubbling beneath his surface.
“Billie, I’m so sorry. I should’ve protected you fro?—”
“This isn’t your fault,” I whisper.
Asher cups my face in his hands, his touch warm, steadying me against the fear that threatens to take me under.
“You stayed in Stanford that summer while I came back to the city.”
My mind races back to that time. Harper had insisted I go to the police, but how could I describe someone whose face was lost in shadows?
“My brain blocked it all out. I’d forgotten completely.”
“I love you,” he whispers gently, placing soft kisses on my forehead, each a tiny promise to protect me from the past that still haunts me. “It’s not your fault.”
“I love you,” I say, crying.
“Shh.” He soothes me again when fresh waves of panic hit me, the memories crashing over me like waves. “He had no right to touch you—ever.”
Rage simmers in his voice as he vows between clenched teeth, “I will chop off every single one of his fucking fingers when I find him.”
“We have to get Harper away from that man. I’m so worried about her,” I say through ragged breaths.
Asher cracks his knuckles, eyes hardening into steel determination. His jaw is set. I haven’t seen him this angry for as long as I’ve known him.
“He will pay for what he did to you—past and present.” His words are a vow.
I shake my head. “He’s going to hurt her, Ash. I can’t lose Harper even if she hates me right now.”
The fear of something bad happening to my best friend is almost too much for me to bear.
“Fuck!” His growl is feral, a primal sound that reverberates in the quiet room. “What has Harper gotten herself into?”
Asher turns off the oven and sets the food on top of the stove.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand and guiding me around the glass and spilled champagne.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He stops and wipes the tears from my cheeks. “To find Brody.”
EPILOGUE
BRODY
Islide the keys to the blacked-out Dodge Charger into my palm, feeling the cool metal against my skin. The freshly waxed paint gleams like a challenge. As an adrenaline junkie, I look forward to putting this classic muscle car through its paces.
“I’m sorry, Easton,” I say, waving at the camera, knowing he doesn’t have access to his phone right now, thanks to Weston. “I will take care of her.”
I sink into the leather seat, holding the steering wheel tight, feeling rebellion in my grip. I crank the engine, and it roars to life. The rumble vibrates through my bones, and a smirk touches my lips because it’s music to my damn ears.
I rev it, feeling that raw energy beneath my fingertips, allowing the engine to warm up before I take off.
Now, this is the kind of chaos I’ve craved. I’ll have to give Harper a thank-you when I track her down.