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Still, we knew better than to leave any store - and, in particular, any pharmacy - unchecked. There was always a hidden treasure lurking in their depths. A bottle of valuable medicine overlooked by someone who may not have known what they needed. Needle and thread. Adhesive wraps.
Food.
It didn’t surprise me that Asher was knowledgeable about medicine, immensely so. Apparently, he had planned to go to medical school before this entire shest started. Asher was kind and compassionate, and he loved helping people...just as much as he loved hurting them.
Well...hurting people who harmed me, at the very least.
My blond-haired boyfriend was a little psychotic.
Wait a damn minute. Back up. Retreat. Abort mission. Boyfriend? Was Asher my boyfriend?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Boyfriend?” Asher poked his head up from where he was bent over, surveying a fallen display shelf. His eyes burned hotly, a banked fire hidden beneath the depths. One look in his eyes told me that helikedthe idea of being my boyfriend. No, not liked it.
Loved it.
His smoldering gaze held me, ensnared me, and I was helpless to look away. Not that I wanted to. I couldn’t imagine ever looking away from him. It wasn’t just because he was handsome, beautiful even, but because he was the one who had saved me. The one who had refused to look away.
My parents were bad people. Like, mafia-level bad. They took their anger out on me in the form of fists and kicks. Breaking my spirit one wrathful word at a time. Destroying me until I was nothing but skin and bones.
The people around me knew what was going on, knew the extent of my parents’ abuse, yet they’d turned a blind eye to it because they were afraid ofhiseyes being on them. My father. The man who quite literally had gotten away with murder more times than I could count.
But Asher had held my stare. He hadn’t turned away, hadn’t swiped it under the proverbial rug and pretended it didn’t exist. No, he had faced it head on without a second thought.
And...and I loved him for it.
Maybe that made me confused or ornery. Maybe it made me a selfish bitch. How many guys was I allowed to love? Surely, I had reached my quota by now.
Ryder and Calax were okay with sharing me, with being in a relationship with me, but would they be okay with me adding others? There was no denying I had feelings for all seven men, including brooding Fallon.
Maybe Elena was right. Maybe I was a slut.
A hoe.
A whore.
“Stop it,” Asher said fiercely, hinting that I may have spoken those private thoughts out loud. “There is nothing wrong with you.”
“Isn’t there?” I countered demurely. “I’m in love with seven men, Asher. There is most definitely something wrong with me.”
It took me a moment to realize what I had unintentionally confessed. I wanted to backtrack, to deny, but there was no use. I couldn’t even hide it from myself anymore.
“Love?” Asher’s voice was shaky, chest heaving.
While a part of me wanted to cower, I raised my chin imperiously and met his eyes. I could only pray that Ryder and Calax would forgive me. That Ronan would. And Fallon, Declan, and Tamson.
All men that held a piece of me.
With them, I felt complete. I felt whole and beautiful as if I hadn’t been broken by my parents and the world itself. Asher had always held one of those pieces, from the very first time we had made eye-contact in the restaurant and I had accidentally called him Gorgeous.
“Yes. Love.” I meant for my voice to sound confident, but it wavered towards the end. I was suddenly terrified. What if I confessed my feelings for him, and he didn’t feel the same way? What if he left me?
After all, everyone I had ever loved had left me, either by choice, death, or things beyond our control.
Ryder had been taken by Liz.
Calax had been attacked and killed by Ragers.
