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“You and your family don’t deserve to be dragged through hell because of my terrible choices.”
“You couldn’t fucking call me?”
“I thought I had it handled!”
“The man tried to pimp you out for his own gain. What about that makes you think you can deal with his brand of low life?”
“Because I was that low life, too! That’s who I was!”
“No, Ashlyn, it’s not.”
His use of my name cuts deep. No Princess, Darlin, Baby… just my name. Clinical on his lips.
“He wants me in Chicago to review this merger.”
“Figured that out.”
“I have to go.”
“So you said.”
“He’s threatened everyone I love, and unless I go, he will destroy my family. Dry up my dad’s business and taint Andrew’s reputation as a consultant. If he knows our connection, he’ll destroy Kendrick Construction and eventually go after Darby’s partnership with Brasher.”
“News flash, he strolled into your house, and he knew who I was and what I am to you. It was written all over his self-righteous ass. He was goading you. I’m not scared of him.”
“But I can stop it.”
“No one is asking you to sink to the depths of hell for us.”
“It’s my choice. It’s my turn to do the right thing.”
“And the ring?” He jerks his chin in revulsion at my hand.
“A ruse to show he claimed me so I’m no longer open game.”
“You going to marry him?”
My whole body spasms, and I shake my head furiously. “NO! I didn’t agree to this at all.”
He stands, setting the glass on the table and not glancing my way as he disappears through the house, the back door shutting behind him. A minute later, he comes to sit, continuing to avoid my eyes as he takes my hand in his. He turns it palm side up and gently presses the area at my joint.
“Take a deep breath and hold it until I tell you to let it go.”
I follow his instructions, watching as he slides a tool between my skin and the base, cutting the metal. He tosses the tool to the side and pries the ring off my finger. The blood circulates heavy, pumping through the swollen area.
“Thank you.”
He still doesn’t look at me, taking my other hand and dropping the heavy diamond. “Here.”
He stands, backing away again, but I lunge toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, Miller. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was about protecting you.”
His hand goes to my hair, and I almost cry in relief when his lips touch my head. “You haven’t been paying attention, Ashlyn. It’s my job to protect you. None of this would have happened if you’d have trusted me to care for you. Today, you chose his control over your past to make your decision. He took you back to that place. If I was truly on your mind, you’d have trusted me.”
With that, he steps out of my grip and leaves me with an ache so painful I wonder if my heart has splintered apart.
“Do you hate me?” my voice cracks.
The answer is the soft close of the door.
The impact of what he said sinks inside, and I wail out, curling into myself.
•—•—•—•—•
I wake alone on the couch, completely spent and weak from crying. Miller still isn’t home. There’s no telling where he is, but my heartbroken mood sets back in.
I’m such an idiot. He’s right, I should have called him and relied on our strength together to deal with Brock.
This is no time to feel sorry for myself. It’s time to get this disaster under control and get my life back on track. Brock Donner controlled my life once; he’s not getting a second chance. I stand, my stomach cramping with emptiness, but the thought of food makes me queasy.
Get it together, Ashlyn. You’ve been through worse than this. Even as I think it, I know it’s a lie. Nothing could be worse than losing Miller and letting Brock get his way. Neither of those things can happen. I get some water and almost choke mid-sip when I spot my key fob on the counter. My eyes fly to the back, and my car is parked in front of the garage.
Is it possible Miller came home and I slept through it? I drop the glass and run to the bedroom with the tiniest hope he’s sleeping. The hope dies when I see the bed is made the way I left it yesterday morning. Looking around, everything is exactly as we left it.
Someone came with him to drop it off. My guess is he called Pierce, which means he and Darby probably know about my betrayal. More pain slashes through me at the inevitable possibility of disappointing more people.
I go to the bathroom, stripping and getting into the shower. The cold spray of the water shocks me fully awake, and my brain kicks into gear. As the water heats, a plan formulates in my mind, coming together easily. Every time I try to use my left hand, the sting of my finger reminds me of the weak woman Brock thinks he can manipulate.
