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Just then, like a Deus ex Machina, Bigfoot runs past us, waving, and heads toward the forest on the other side of the lot. I burst out laughing, because really? A real Bigfoot wouldn't wave at people.
Mid-laugh, I lock eyes with Clover, who is also laughing, while around us people scream and shout and fumble for cameras. In the midst of all the chaos, Clover walks around her shocked sisters and takes my hand.
I let her lead me away from the crowd toward her car. I back her up against it, but I don't hold her down or box her in, I just stand in front of her, holding her hand. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you too," she says. "But I'm still the enemy, so stop looking at me like you want to kiss me."
"But I do want to kiss you."
She yanks her hand out of mine. "Get in the car, Aldridge, before I change my mind."
I get in the passenger seat without argument. There will be plenty of time to kiss her later.
She gets into the driver's seat, laughing. "What the hell is Jaxon thinking?"
"When I visited Barley the other day he was worried people were losing interest in the Bigfoot hunt."
Her smile is sad. "You visited Barley?"
"Jaxon said you've been visiting too."
She waves a hand. "I love that little goat, but I'm really visiting for Jaxon. He's so obviously lonely."
"Yeah, I can't get him to admit it though."
She stares out at the crowd for a few moments. Jaxon in his Bigfoot costume is out of sight, but a few people have run into the woods after him. She seems thoughtful, so I don't interrupt.
Her silence stretches on and I start to get antsy. I open my mouth three times to speak, but she's lost in thought, oblivious to my struggle.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Clover
I'm caught somewhere between hope and terror. I also want to punch Asher for saying he loves me in front of my sisters when I have no idea if that means he loves me but can't be with me or he loves me and wants to be with me or he's just saying he loves me as a sick prank to get back at me for what Dad and I did to his family.
Honestly, I don't believe Asher's cruel enough for the last, but my emotions are high and my imagination is overactive.
I'm scared to ask him, because it feels so good to be close to him again. I don't want to say something that will make him get out of this car and walk away, but I can't think of the right words to keep him here either.
Asher pulls in a deep breath. "Clover, please look at me."
I keep staring out the window. I don't want to look at him, because he's so damn beautiful and my chin is already trembling, my eyes burning. There is no happy ending for us. I've been racking my brain all week trying to come up with one, but it doesn't exist.
He grasps my chin and turns my head to look at him. "I love you. I want you to know that before I say anything else, because it's the most important thing I'm going to say today. Loving you and having you in my life is more important than the gym or my career, okay?"
"You want me in your life? For keeps?" I don't know why I'm having such a hard time believing this.
He chuckles. "More than anything. I don't care who your father is. My parents don't care and my sister doesn't care. None of us blame you for what your father did and none of us feel you need to make up for what he did."
"But I helped him." I can't help the tears that overflow my eyes. No matter how many people tell me I'm not responsible, I can't quite believe it. For so many years, I've blamed myself. I was only ten, but I should have asked more questions. I should have done more when I noticed the way Dad wouldn't back down even when he knew the people we were asking for money didn't have much to begin with.
Even at ten, I'd recognized poverty when I'd seen it and I'd asked Dad if it was okay to take money from them. He told me we were helping them get rich. We were saving them. I'd wanted to believe in him, because the alternative - that my father was a thief - was too heinous. I chose to be blind to my father's faults and my own complicity.
"Oh, sweetheart." Asher uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears, before taking my hands in his again. "Do you know how many mistakes I've made? How many people I've hurt, because I thought success meant getting rich by any means necessary? Are you going to punish me or hold my faults against me?"
"Of course not," I say, outraged at the thought. "You're one of the best people I know. I would never blame you for something from your past."
"Good. We're agreed. Your past holds no bearing on our future. The next question is, do you want me in your life?"
