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As if finding a little shred of strength, Aspen begins rinsing the shampoo out of her hair. She closes her eyes, and it’s clear that she’s deep in thought, but there’s no telling where her head has gone. Though it doesn’t go unnoticed that she hasn’t exactly responded to me saying I want to be with her, but now isn’t the time to push it.
We finish in the shower, and I reach for a towel before wrapping her up and leading her back to my room. I find a shirt for her to wear, and soon enough, she’s curled in my arms with her head resting against my chest. “I killed a man, Izaac.”
I nod. “You did, but I don’t want you to linger on it. It was an act of survival. It was self-defense. You did nothing wrong,” I explain. “I know it feels impossible, but I want you to get some sleep. You’re in shock. Sooner or later, the police are going to knock on the door, and they’re going to want to take you in for questioning, and when that happens, it’ll be good to go in with a clear head.”
“And if I don’t have a clear head?”
“Then it’s okay because Vixen has surveillance cameras.” Aspen nods against my chest, and as she lets out a shaky breath, I feel the hot tears fall from her eyes and pool on my chest. “Everything’s going to be alright, Birdy. I’m going to be right here. I’ll take care of you.”
Aspen doesn’t respond as she lays in my arms and tries to sleep. It takes almost an hour for her to stop trembling, and when I’m sure she’s finally asleep, I lean toward her, press a kiss to her forehead, and slip out from beneath her.
I fix the blanket around her shoulders and hope like fuck that she doesn’t wake while I’m gone, but I have to get back down to Vixen and figure out what’s going to happen from here. And despite knowing how badly Austin wants to kick my ass right now, it’s not fair for all of this bullshit to fall on his shoulders. It’s my club. I should be the one down there answering questions and consoling my staff.
After sparing another glance at Aspen and making sure she’s all good, I pull on a shirt and a pair of sweatpants and take off again. My phone has been ringing non-stop for over an hour, but I’ve kept it on silent, determined to settle Aspen first.
The drive back to Vixen takes no time at all, and as I pull down the road, I find the street lit with red and blue lights. There are cops everywhere, police cruisers, ambulances, and a good section of the road is marked off with police tape.
Taking a quick look around, I find the guy who looks like he’s in charge and make my way toward him while distantly noticing Austin sitting in the back of an ambulance, reluctantly getting his broken nose looked at.
“Sir, you can’t be here,” an officer says as I stride toward his superior, watching the cops flood in and out of my club.
The cop’s whiny tone gets the sergeant’s attention, and he whips around, ready to fend me off, but seeing the determination in my eyes, he pauses and waits for whatever I’ve come to say.
“My name is Izaac Banks,” I say, having no doubt that Austin has already given him my information. Hell, he probably belongs to one of the many missed calls on my phone. “I’m the owner of Vixen, and I’m happy to give you any information or answer any questions you might have. I just have one condition to my cooperation.”
He arches a brow. “Let’s hear it,” he says, his tone telling me I have wriggle room and that I’m not about to be dragged away in cuffs for beating the shit out of an almost dead man, assuming he’s already seen the footage and knows what happened.
“You leave Aspen alone for the night. I’ve taken her back to my house to get some sleep. She’s shaken, scared, and has every intention of cooperating. She will be happy to answer any question you throw at her. However, after everything she’s been through tonight, I just ask that you give her a few hours to rest and come to terms with everything that’s gone down tonight.”
“Son, you understand I have a dead body and a lot of unanswered questions.”
“I do. However, I also know that every square inch of my club is monitored by surveillance, and every question you could possibly have can be answered by watching the footage.”
He presses his lips into a hardline. “So it seems,” he says. “However, I will be running my investigation as I see fit, and until my officers get a chance to completely go through that footage and rule out any wrongdoing, Ms. Ryder will require extensive questioning.”
“I understand that, and I am happy to take your officers to my place to get her. I just ask that she be allowed a few hours of rest is all. Your officers are welcome to camp outside my home if they want. In the meantime, is there anything you can tell me in regard to my club? I have a lot of employees who would no doubt be wondering if they have a job right now, and quite frankly, I’m wondering the same thing.”
The sergeant talks to me for a while, explaining how these things usually work, and twenty minutes later, after an officer has confirmed that Aspen did indeed act in self-defense and that they won’t be pressing charges, I finally get to walk away with a promise to bring her down to the precinct to make a statement first thing in the morning.
I find Austin leaning against his car, halfway down the road, his gaze locked on the sight before him, watching as Ryatt’s body is wheeled out on a gurney, locked inside a body bag. The sergeant didn’t give much information in regard to how soon the cops will clear out of my club or when I’ll be able to reopen for business, but I can safely assume it could be a while. After all, I’m going to need to do a complete renovation on that particular room.
“She’s in the clear,” I tell him, settling in at his side and leaning against the hood of his car, leaving just enough space between us in case he decides to start throwing punches again.
He nods, his gaze dropping to the asphalt, and the guilt radiating off him nearly drops me to my knees. “She almost got raped tonight, and I was too busy hating her to even ask if she was okay.”
My lips press into a hard line, and I nod, not knowing how he expects me to respond.
“She’s my fucking sister.My baby sister,” he says. “If something had happened, or if I’d lost her. Fuck. You don’t know the cruel things I said to her when she came to me, begging me to hear her out. I practically called her a desperate whore who couldn’t keep her legs crossed and then kicked her out, and when she broke down and cried on my living room floor, I ignored her as though she didn’t matter.”
“She knows that’s not what you think,” I tell him. “She’s just waiting for you to come around and talk it out.”
“You don’t fucking get it,” he says. “She walked into the room and was attacked, and while she would have been fucking terrified, in that moment, she thought that she couldn’t rely on me. That I wouldn’t have her fucking back, and she would have been right. If she had called me needing help, I would have let the call go to voicemail. Fuck, it wouldn’t have even rung because I fucking blocked her. It’s bad enough that I was out of town when that asshole tried to follow her home, and now this? I keep letting her down.”
“Then get your head out of your fucking ass and make it up to her,” I snap. “Do you have any idea how much she’s hurting because of the bullshit you’ve been throwing at her? It’s killing her, and you’re too caught up in your own feelings to even see what you’re doing to her.”
“Stop talking about my sister like you fucking know her. You don’t.”
“I do.”
