Page 129 of Defending You

Asher had seen wealth before, but this was ridiculous.

The Wright family estate sprawled along the Maine coastline like something out of a magazine—all weathered shingles and soaring windows that faced the rocky Atlantic coast. Luxury whispered from every corner, from the marble floors to the artwork that probably cost more than he’d make in a decade. Cici had told him that her mother came from money, and this place reeked of generational wealth.

He’d known the Wrights were rich, but this…this was stratospheric.

Gavin Wright’s accusation still rang in Asher’s ears.

The words had hit like physical blows. Asher had been assigned to keep Cici safe, and she’d ended up zip-tied in a warehouse, bruised and terrorized, while he’d been unconscious at the bottom of a ravine.

Bartlett’s defense had been swift and professional, but it hadn’t erased the sting of truth from Gavin’s words.

Bartlett had been at the hotel that morning and insisted on meeting Asher before they came over here. Asher’d half expected to get fired.

But Bartlett had apologized, even going so far as to ask his forgiveness.

“We’ve lost a few long-standing clients,” he explained. “I’ve been too focused on the bottom line. When Cici was taken, when you were offering to get yourself killed to save her, I remembered what really mattered. It wasn’t whether or not we could give bonuses this year, or even if we could keep the lights on. My job is to make sure that the agents who trust me to have their backs stay just as safe as the clients.”

“I should’ve asked for help,” Asher said.

“Not your job to ask for it,” Bartlett growled. “It’s my job to do what’s right, whether you like it or not.”

Asher was still coming to terms with all of that. What he knew was that he wasn’t perfect, but he’d done his best. And God had protected him and Cici despite all his mess-ups.

Now, as Asher stood in the cavernous living room taking in the opulent surroundings, he felt a little more of the weight dissolve away. Cici’s father was only worried about his daughter, evidenced now by the way he sat beside her, awkwardly holding her hand.

Cici needed that. She needed to know her dad would do anything for her.

The knowledge didn’t keep Asher from wishing he could squeeze himself in there.

Mrs. Wright returned with a tray filled with glasses of ice water. She carried the tray to Cici, who took a glass, then moved on to Asher, looking up at him with clear blue eyes that shimmered with tears.

He took a glass. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Asher. For Cici.” She sniffled, then shifted to the woman beside him. “I’m Evelyn Wright. Would you like some water?”

“Thanks.”

She took a glass, then Mrs. Wright set the tray on the coffee table and focused on Grant. “Would you introduce our guests, please?”

“Yes, ma’am. You met Asher last night.” He nodded to Bartlett. “My former boss, Clarence Bartlett.”

She shook his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Thank you for your part in bringing Cici home.”

Despite his wisdom and experience, Bartlett seemed a little flummoxed. Maybe it was Cici’s mother’s graciousness. Maybe it was her stunning beauty. Whatever the cause, Bartlett stammered, “Uh, sure. Of course.”

“And this is Detective Harris of the Philadelphia PD,” Grant said.

Mrs. Wright nodded to the woman who seemed even more out of place than Asher. She wore a business suit that looked two sizes too small and had graying brown hair and no makeup, not to mention the deer-in-the-headlights shock that probably came from being ushered into a house that dripped money like rainwater.

“Ma’am,” Harris managed.

“Grab a seat.” Mom directed them into the living room.

Callan and Forbes dragged chairs in from the dining room, making a circle around the coffee table.

Asher took the one directly across from Cici. If he couldn’t hold her hand, then at least he could look at her, even if her bruises reminded him of his failure.

Detective Harris remained standing. She pulled a small notepad and pen from her bag. “I was tasked to investigate Anthony Delvecchio’s murder, along with the fire and, we assumed, a theft, considering all the valuables in a jewelry store.” Her gaze found Cici. “Surveillance videos confirm your story, Miss Wright. Wendall Gagnon and Gustavo Souza enteredthe store, then were seen running from the back a few minutes later, chasing you.”