Page 39 of Tear Me Down (Descent to Darkness Trilogy #2)
Chapter seventeen
Damien
One Week Later
“That’s it, baby. Give me another one.” I urge Ashia to punch again even though I can see the exhaustion in her face.
This past week has been rough for her—filled with restless nights and sadness etched into her features.
All of the stress is eating away at her, and now she’s wary of the outlets she can use, afraid that word will get back to Serena and she won’t be given the chance to get her friend back.
That thought has kept her quiet, almost terrified to say or do anything that could potentially be viewed as wrong, and that enrages me.
My little wolf can do whatever she desires, regardless of if it’s viewed as sinister or saintly, and the opinion of a blonde, close minded, judgmental woman isn’t going to change that.
Serena Anderson has made her way onto a very complicated list in my mind.
I want to label her as an enemy, a problem, and someone that I should bar from Ashia’s life from this point forward, but my fiancé’s attachment to her won’t allow me to do that.
While she told me about the argument, hearing it from Zeke’s perspective was eye opening, and only served to deepen my dislike for her into resentment.
I understand that while they’re best friends, and would normally consider themselves as sisters, that they both grew up very differently.
Ashia was thrown to the wolves and left out as bait, but Serena was spoiled, coddled, and sheltered.
Evil wasn’t a part of her everyday life, and while she experienced it some because of being associated with Ashia, I’m not sure a single bad thing has ever happened to that woman.
She’s always been far too judgmental for my taste, but I’ve tolerated it for Ashia’s sake.
Now that I know exactly what was said during their fight?
I have half a mind to remove Serena from the pedestal Ashia holds her so highly on, but Ashia comes first. Always, and she needs me far too much to spend any time confronting Serena.
The blonde pain in my ass demanded space, and my little wolf has been gracious enough to give it to her, but I’m not so sure I’ll continue to give the same courtesy.
Personally? It’s been nice not hearing her annoying voice bouncing off the walls of our house, but I know it’s affected Ashia deeply.
She hasn’t reached out to her, and it’s killing her.
I don’t know how to help. She continues to get sick at least once a day, if not more, and it seems that she’s ready for bed by noon every day.
She’s been on edge, too—some of the smallest things have started to anger her, and I know she’s frustrated with everything that’s been going on around us.
With this added to it, I’m not sure how much more she can take before she falls to pieces, but I’ll make sure I’m there when she does .
Which is why we’re here now. Every day since I came home last week to find her sitting in our driveway, soaked from head to toe and shivering, Zeke has brought her here after work to train with me.
Danielle offered to come in one day soon and train with her, since she knows I would never put up an actual fight against her, but I told her to hold off for now.
This ‘training’ isn’t so much for combat, because she’ll never get close enough to a real fight to punch back, but for a way to release her anger.
Whether that be towards Serena, this life, or even me, and since she won’t talk about it, she needs some sort of release.
So, I stand strong with my hands spread wide so she can unleash her rage on me.
Hit after hit, for the past twenty minutes, she keeps the blows coming.
Sweat mists her body, forehead, and hair, but the irritation isn’t going away—even as she starts to sway because she’s so tired.
She throws what I decide is her last punch, and I grab her fist in my hand, causing her to fall forward freely with the force of it, and I use that momentum to pull her to me, bringing her to rest against me as I hold her from behind.
“That’s enough for today, baby girl,” I whisper in her hair, and though I know she wants to protest, I can feel her melting against me like she always does.
“I can go a little longer,” she mumbles back between harsh breaths, and I merely shake my head, knowing she’s too tired to argue.
“Let me take you home. I’ll get you a warm bath, and then we can watch a movie. Whatever you want, okay?” I brush the sweaty strands of hair from her forehead.
She nods as she lays her head back against my chest, but we both know she’ll never make it through a movie—maybe not even the bath, but as long as it helps her relax, I don’t care what she needs.
I’ll do it. Her abandonment issues have fiercely clawed their way to the surface, and I’ve noticed her clinging to me as much as I do to her.
Not that I mind in the slightest—she could be permanently attached to my hip and no one would ever hear me complain, but she’s never been like that.
She’s been texting more when we’re apart, letting her anxiety win if it’s been over thirty minutes since she’s heard from me, and while normally she would have no problem going home without me, she hasn’t since that afternoon.
Her first stop after work is wherever I am, and she doesn’t leave my side until she has to go back to the shop.
As my phone goes off in my pocket, she stiffens. I’ve made it a point to only go out and handle things during the day while she’s at work, but I know she’s been dreading the next time I’d have to leave her alone. Which, from the look of Carter’s text, is right now.
Carter
Come to the Bat Cave, you’ve got to see this. Do NOT bring Ashia with you.
That last comment pangs my chest, but he wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t important. I slip my phone back into my pocket and wrap my arm around her again .
“Do you have to go?” she asks quietly, but it’s laced with so much sadness that it physically pains me to hear it.
“Yeah, baby, but not for long. Let Zeke take you home, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.
Don’t start the movie without me, okay?” I hold her a little tighter as she turns in my arms, looking up at me with those delicious brown eyes and nodding delicately.
Her lightly sunken features and the dark circles under her eyes don’t evade me, and the way her eyes don’t shine as much as they normally do weakens me.
As I walk her out to her car, a part of me wants to think that after a few weeks, she’ll be better.
That after the initial shock wears off, she’ll push through and be back to herself, but I know that’s not true.
Serena holds such a large piece of Ashia in her hands that she could destroy her in an instant, and while I know I ultimately own her heart and soul, I do unfortunately share her with that traitorous woman.
I kiss her softly as we say our goodbyes, and as I hold the door to her car, I can see the disappointment in her body language. The way her head hangs subtly, and the urge to wrap her arms around her stomach for comfort, doesn’t go unnoticed.
My protective instincts urge me to tell Carter to fuck off and climb in the car with her, but this is obviously important, somehow needing so much of my attention that Ashia can’t be involved—which worries me even more.
I’ll find a way to let her in the loop, no matter what information comes to light, and I’ll just be sure to make it up to her once I get home.
Once they drive down the way, I head back inside, stepping confidently through the groups of my men training and walk straight to Carter’s lair.
This better be good.
I walk into his set up, that he’s already clearly made a home out of, and step deep into the room.
There’s not as much trash and laundry in here as there was in the Basement, but it’s quickly piling up in the same way.
Serena hasn’t spoken to him either in her ‘need for space’ and while it hasn’t affected him quite as much as it has my little wolf, it’s definitely still messing with him on some level.
He’s been quiet, too quiet, and even though before it seemed he rarely left his cave, it’s more so now.
He’s become a recluse the past week, and though I keep trying to get him to talk to me about it, he’s refused.
How is Serena having this effect on the people I care about?
I need to try and be patient with him if this doesn’t turn out to be important.
“Has the lab come back with anything yet?” We sent the drugs Ashia found to a trusted lab to be tested, so we know what it’s made of and can track local productions better.
Not to mention, if we know the exact components, Carter will have an easier time finding the manufacturing location.
“Or do you need help with the USB drives?”
“No, I’m still trying to crack into the security so it doesn’t immediately delete upon entry, and the lab hasn’t come back with anything yet, but there’s something else you need to see.
” I walk up to his wall of computer screens and focus on the middle one to see half a birth certificate showing.
As I analyze it closely, a hatred spreads through my chest at the parental names, Mark and Jenny Carpenter.
“Why do you have Ashia’s birth certificate up?” I ask, no longer feeling the need for patience.
“It’s not Ashia’s,” he whispers in disbelief, and I snap my head to him, matching his distress. He points to the screen and scrolls up to show the name of the child, Micah Carpenter.
“Who the fuck is that? Ashia doesn’t have any siblings.”