Page 27 of Wild Card (Royal Bastards MC: Cody, Wyoming #1)
TWENTY-TWO
Ruby
“ A sh?” I gently stir him awake when I find him sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall in the family room, sleeping.
“Shit.” He wakes up with a start, smiling momentarily when he first sees me, then remembering where we are, he sits himself up a little straighter.
“Esmé’s dad’s on his way. I spoke nicely to the nursing staff, and they let me stay with her for all this time.” I smile, wondering why he’s still here.
“Where's your fiancé?” he asks, scrubbing his eyes to wake himself up, and when I look up at the clock on the wall and see it’s three thirty, I get why he’s so tired. I can’t believe he waited here for all this time.
“He left a few hours ago. Guess he had to ensure the scandal doesn't leak.” I wish I could say I was surprised by Brett’s behaviour, but since hearing what his intentions are, it makes sense.
“And Hack? I could have sworn he was here when I fell asleep.”
“He’s with Esmé. I spoke really nice to the nurses.” I smile some more.
“I think he likes her,” Ash croaks, wearing a sleepy grin that looks so handsome on him.
“I do, too.” I’ve watched the way he’s sat and held her hand, watching her sleeping, and there’s no doubt about it. Hack’s got it bad for my best friend.
“You need a ride home?” Ash checks, starting to slide up the wall and get back on his feet.
“I thought you followed us on your bike?” I look up at him.
“I did.” He frowns.
“I don’t know what Brett would think about that. I know we did it before, but that was different,” I admit, even though I’m longing to sit on Ash’s saddle again. I wanna wrap my arms around him, rest my cheek on his back, and just forget tonight ever happened.
“Well, Brett ain’t here to take you home himself, and I ain’t about to leave you here stranded. Come on, Rube, we’re both going to the same place.” He shrugs his shoulders like it’s no big deal.
“I guess when you put it like that, it does seem stupid.” I smile and grab my jacket from the chair, and when he slides his strong arm around my shoulder, tucking me under it, I rest against him and let him lead me out to the parking lot.
Everything’s locked up and dark when we get home. Ash drops his keys on the table, shrugs out of his cut, and heads behind the bar.
“Join me for a nightcap?” he offers, taking down two glasses, and when he starts filling them with scotch, I laugh to myself.
“Now, after all that's happened tonight, what could you possibly find so funny?” He looks at me suspiciously as he swishes the amber liquid around in his glass.
“I just find it strange that you always seem to know what I need.” I knock mine back and let it warm my throat on its way to my stomach. Turns out Ash picked a good one.
“My mother hated scotch. But I really like it. I’ve always wondered if I got that from my dad.” I laugh a little more when I realize how pathetic I sound.
“You ever thought about seeking him out? I’m sure he’d like to meet you,” Ash tells me.
“I don’t think so.” I shake my head and slam down my glass, sliding it toward him so he knows to hit me up with another.
“I was born in a whorehouse, raised there until I was ten. The guy who ran the place adored my mom; he took good care of her, then he died, and we moved on.” I take the drink he pours me and clutch it in my hand.
“We moved around for a few years, never really settled, then we found this place and straight away it just felt like home,” I explain with a smile.
“Hack told me she got sick. I’m sorry.” Ash goes all serious on me, and after the night I’ve had, I don’t want his sympathy. I want more of his comfort.
“Being sorry isn’t gonna bring her back; nothing will.” I hold back my tears and try to sound brave. “I miss her every day.” That last part just slips out.
“I know how ya feel. I’d give anything to see my mom and sister again.” Ash shocks me with his admission as he pours us both another drink.
“Home invasion,” he answers before I have the chance to ask. “Some fucker broke into their home while they were sleeping, and when he got disturbed, he shot ‘em both. Shot my stepdad, too.” He downs his drink in one swallow.
“Shit. Ash, I’m sorry.”
“What’s being sorry gonna do? Ain’t gonna bring ‘em back.” He throws my own words back at me with a clever smirk.
“We should go to bed.” I stand up from the barstool when I start feeling that sexual energy tugging between us again.
“I thought you’d never ask.” He raises his eyebrows, and when I reach over the bar to slap him in his chest, he suddenly grabs hold of me, clutching at my hand and holding it over his heart.
“You feel that?” he asks, narrowing his eyes and looking all vulnerable.
“I feel it,” I assure him.
“Thank you…” He takes my hand, raises it to his lips, and kisses it before releasing me and heading toward the door upstairs.
“Thank you?…Thanks for what?” I stand and call after him, confused.
“For reminding me that I’m still human. That I can still bleed and hurt like everyone else.” He smiles before he pushes his way through the door and leaves me to finish my scotch.