Page 96 of Pieces of Ash

“It’s not your fault,” he repeats. “Tell me again.”

I nod at him, sniffling. “It’s not my f-fault.”

“That’s right.”

Julian puts his hands under my arms and drags me back to him. I lie half on his chest with my hip pressed against his side, where something hard bulges into my pelvic bone. I lean away and see the outline of a gun tucked into his waistband.

He lifts his shirt and takes it out, showing it to me. “I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

I stare at the black weapon, which almost looks like a child’s toy. I am not a stranger to guns—Mosier’s men carried them. But I’ve never seen one this close-up.

“What kind is it?”

“A Beretta,” he says, tucking it under the unused pillow next to his other hip. “Just to be safe.”

“I don’t like guns,” I say. I lay my cheek on his chest again, yawning as my heavy eyes close. “But I’m glad you have it.”

“Sleep,doudou,” he says softly, threading his fingers in my hair and sliding them down my back in long, slow strokes. “Just sleep. We’ll talk more later.”

“Thank you,” I sigh, trying for deep breaths, but still finding it hard to get a good one. “Thank you, Julian.”

“I’m here,” he says, his strong heart beating under my ear like a lullaby. “I’m here.”

And the last thing I think before I drift off to sleep is…

Stay strong. I love you. I’m here.

JULIAN

She’s asleep in a few minutes, her breathing even and deep, and I’m glad because I can’t really get my head around what she’s gone through in the past hour. She’s lost someone she really loved and who, I believe, loved her. And from what I can gather, the list of people who have Ashley’s best interests at heart is getting pretty fucking short.

Gus. Jock. Me.

That’s it.

Well, I think, stilling my hand on her hair, maybe this guy Simmons will be part of Team Ashley too. God, I hope so. She needs all the help she can get at this point.

And we need a plan. A good plan. A plan that will keep her safe, not just for now, but forever. Which means I need to bring my A game tomorrow.

Do I think Raumann killed the priest? I whitewashed my answer for her because she’s frightened enough. But yes, I do. A hundred and fifty percent, I do.

I don’t know if he went there with a syringe and the intent to kill, or if he ended up scaring the shit out of the old guy, but I’m fairly certain that Father Joseph was a goner the moment Raumann stepped into his office. Raumann’s plan doesn’t work if someone objects to the marriage. If the priest couldn’t be useful—by telling Raumann where she was hiding—and was categorically opposed to the match, he was better off dead.

How Raumann did it? I don’t know. And frankly I don’t care.

All I know is that this bastard will do whatever it takes to get Ashley back, which means I need to be prepared to do whatever it takes to keep her safe.

She stirs in her sleep, snuggling closer to me, and my heart swells with something I’ve felt before, but only in small doses. It’s like comparing the first time you jerk yourself off with how it feels to sink into a willing woman for the first time. One packs a punch, sure, but the other leaves you breathless and changed forever.

I’ve felt protective before—over Noelle, over girlfriends in high school, even over Magdalena—but this is different. It’s deeper, and it’s growing in ways I can’t explain. When I think of keeping Ashley’s life safe, there’s a part of me that wants to be included in that life, in that forever. There is a part of me that doesn’t want to envision a future that can’t or doesn’t include her. Not just because protecting a young woman like her is the right and noble thing to do, but because I’m getting attached to her. And not knowing her—not being allowed or able to see what might happen between us, given time and space and freedom—makes me unspeakably sad.

And that’s when I realize it.

I’m falling for her. Hard.

Which isnotconvenient.

She’s several years younger than I am, almost completely alone in the world, and being hunted by a madman. She doesn’tneed the added emotional complication of me pining after her, does she? Not to mention, I’ve only known her for a handful of days.