Chapter Thirty-Three

Gage

T here's definitely something not right with Ash today. In fact, the last few days, he's had his phone constantly within arm's reach. Which is not unusual for a young guy who likes social media stuff. But this feels kinda different. He's preoccupied. Wearing a frown I don't much care for. When I asked him what was wrong, he brushed it off with a smile and pulled me in for a passionate kiss, effectively diverting my attention. But a nagging feeling in my gut suggests that he's hiding something from me.

"Do you think he's acting different today?" With a nod, I indicate toward Ash, who is busy arranging fresh wooden coasters on the tables.

Max pauses and glances at Ash. "I dunno. Define different," he says, picking up more bottles and placing them on the shelves. We're both restocking behind the bar.

"He keeps pausing every few tables to glance at his phone, his brow furrowed as if it has offended him somehow, before slipping it back into his pocket."

"I mean, did you ask him about it? I know what you're like. You immediately jump to your own conclusions."

"Yes, I asked him, dumbass, and he's being cagey. Look, he's doing it now." Max turns to look at Ash.

"Yeah, I see what you mean about the face. Maybe he's just on his Bookface or whatever it's called. Jax has it, too. He's always uploading his pictures or downloading files. Whenever he tries to show me, I inevitably end up pressing the wrong buttons, so I've left it all in his capable hands. When it comes to my phone, I stick to its basic functions: calling people or sending messages."

"And you say I'm old?" I scoff. "Even I know how to use a phone with apps. How do you think I check on a delivery? Anyway, I don't think it's that. I have a feeling there's another reason behind it. I can't figure it out, but something's up."

In the next 30 minutes, Ash checks his phone 12 times. I kinda feel like a stalker, but I'm just worried. That's how we take care of our partners; we worry about them. I feel bad ‘cause Max has basically restocked the bar while I've just been watching Ash.

He slips his phone back into his pocket and sees me staring at him. His eyebrows un-furrow and he flashes me a smile. Today, he looks adorable, wearing one of my oversized hoodies that swallows him up. But he insisted on wearing it and I'm totally cool with my guy wearing my clothes. It's actually really hot.

He walks over to me at the bar, hands in his pockets, which is not a good sign. He thinks I'm in the dark about his tells, but I'm not. I know for a fact that when he puts his hands in his pockets, he's feeling anxious.

"Hey, hot stuff." Leaning over the counter, I whisper, "I need a kiss." Which he obliges.

"Hey," he replies, but can't quite meet my eyes. "So, um... I'm gonna drive to the next town over to get some new guitar picks. Everyone's always after them at the end of my gigs," he chuckles and runs his hand through his hair before shaking it back into place. "It's a bigger shop and you know I love looking at all the guitars I'll never be able to buy. Just a heads up, I might be gone for a while, so don't worry."

Worry? Why would he use that word? He always goes to the guitar place, but he's never been there for more than an hour. And he's never made it a big deal. My alarm bells are definitely going off, but I don't want to show him I'm worried.

"Sure thing, tater tot. You want me to join you? This place doesn't open until lunchtime, so I've got a couple of hours to spare."

"No," he blurts, too damn fast for my liking. "I mean, it's fine. I like the peace of the journey; it gives me time to fantasize about what I wanna do to you later."

Ah, a familiar distraction technique. I'm not falling for it this time, but I'll pretend to go along with it.

"Yeah? You got plans for us, huh?" I wink.

"I do. The quicker I go, the quicker I'll be back."

Leaning over, I snatch my hoodie and pull him as close as possible with the bar counter in the way. "Hurry back." I plant a kiss on him and release him.

His phone beeps three times in quick succession. Seriously, who's blowing up his phone so damn much?

"I'll, uh, be back shortly." He pivots and proceeds toward the back, passing through the kitchen on his way out.

Turning to Max, I demand, "Now tell me he isn't hiding something?"

"Yeah, it felt as if he was trying a bit too hard to convince you that there was no need to worry about him."

"Right. I think I'll follow him."

"Oh, heck no, absolutely not, terrible idea." Max shakes his head.

"So, you're saying if Jax was acting all sketchy, and you had a feeling something was up, you wouldn't do whatever it takes to make sure he's okay?"

"For fuck's sake, Gage! Why you gotta play the Jax card? You know damn well I would."

Works like a charm, every single time. I get it. Our men are everything to us and we're pathetic messes when it comes to them.

Just as I was making sure I had my truck keys, Max's hand landed on my arm. "Wait, let's take my truck. It's less likely to raise suspicion. If things go south, I'm pointing fingers at you."

I release a sigh and show my appreciation. "Thanks, man." We leave through the kitchen, jump in Max's truck, and head toward town. I just hope that's truly the destination Ash is heading toward, so I can finally put my mind to rest.

About a mile up the road, we catch sight of Ash. We cautiously stay a few cars back, hoping he doesn't notice us.

Keeping his focus on the road, Max asks. "What's the plan for when he finally stops?"

"I have no idea. I didn't plan any of this shit. I suppose we can wait and see where he stops, and then we'll keep an eye on him."

"You know, relationships are built on trust, and when you follow him like a psycho, you're definitely crossing a line."

"Yeah, well, technically, you're the one following him," I quip with a smirk. He shoots me a brief, warning glance that conveys I'm testing his patience.

Sighing, I say, "You saw him, right? He was acting weird. What if he's gotten himself into trouble or something? He had a whole life before me that I still don't know much about."

I know Max is right, and I'm taking a huge risk by following him; this decision has the potential to hurt our relationship, and that's the last thing I wanna do. Still, the fear of something happening to Ash is too great for me to ignore. And something is definitely going on because we're now on the highway, driving away from the direction he claimed he was heading. Max and I exchange a knowing glance, our unspoken thoughts hanging heavily in the air. Ash lied.

An hour later, we find ourselves in a parking spot across the road from a pizza place. Ash pulled his van into the lot, and has been idling for the past five minutes. We parked discreetly at the gas station, strategically positioned so that he couldn't spot us, but I have a clear line of sight to observe him.

Baby, what are you up to?

Just then, he emerges from the van and scans the area, as if looking for someone. The parking lot is relatively empty, with only about six other vehicles scattered around, making it easy to spot him on this quiet Tuesday morning.

A beat-up truck catches his attention, and he heads toward it, where a woman is climbing out of the driver's side door.

"Look," Max says. "I think he's making a beeline toward that woman."

Like I don't see that with my own eyes. My stomach plummets. What reason could he have for not wanting to let me know about his plans to meet someone? Shit, maybe I should've pressed him more about his past. There's so much I don't know about my man. As the woman steps out of the truck, her small, slim figure becomes more apparent, and it's obvious that he recognizes her. His pace picks up, and she has a smile on her face. I'm itching to get out of the truck and march over there, but I know I can't do that without reason. Restless energy courses through my legs, and a sense of unease settles in my gut, as Ash stops dead, like something has startled him.

"Hey, check it out. Do you see that guy?" Max says, leaning forward in his seat.

From a distance, I watch Ash instinctively retreat a step while the woman extends her hand toward him. What is going on?

I catch sight of the guy, and immediately, the hair on my arms stands on end. My hand unconsciously goes for the door lever as the woman's voice escalates, and the intimidating figure of the shady guy towers over her. Whatever has occurred, she's decided to retreat, returning to the passenger side before getting in. In the blink of an eye, this guy spins Ash around and pins him against the side of the truck.

Oh, hell no. Not on my watch, asshole.

Like lightning, I bolt out of Max's truck, barely registering the sound of the door slamming and his voice calling my name. As I sprint across the road, my focus remains fixed on the jerk who is about to feel the wrath of the century for laying a hand on Ash. With a firm grasp on the back of the guy's neck, I apply pressure, causing him to emit a groan and flail his arms in an effort to fight back. Alright, Rambo .

"Gage," Ash's voice echoes in my ears as he hurries away from the door and takes refuge behind me, his trembling tone showing his fear. I give this motherfucker a taste of his own medicine by slamming him against his truck, pinning him in place with my arm tightly across his chest. I'm way bigger than him and he knows it.

"Gage, come on, man. Let's just go, we've got Ash," Max says, coming to stand next to me.

It'll be a cold day in hell before I let this guy go without knowing why he hurt Ash.

"Gage," Ash pleads once more, gripping the back of my shirt tightly. "Don't do it. Please. He's not worth the trouble."

"Yeah, Gage ," the guy spews. His appearance is reminiscent of a crack addict, with decaying teeth and open sores marring his face. His breath is so foul that I have to fight back the urge to vomit. "Do as little Ashley tells you," he sneers. "And maybe he'll allow you to use his ass as payment later. Yeah, that's right. I know he's a little cocksucker."

The weight of those last words pushes me over the edge, causing me to lose my composure and headbutt the guy on his nose. Blood immediately gushes from the impact. The wetness of his blood pours onto my arm while I continue to hold him in place. The woman in the truck is frantically banging on the window behind the guy, her voice filled with anger, and amidst the chaos, I hear Ash cry out behind me. Anger courses through my veins, making my blood boil.

"Ash," I call out. His cold, shaking hand touches my lower back. "I'm here."

The fear in his eyes is palpable, and it pains me to see him so visibly scared. His complexion is all pale, devoid of the vibrant flush that usually adorns his cheeks. His shoulders sag, as if he's attempting to fold into himself. Instead of shining brightly, his beautiful green eyes now appear tarnished and dull. My boy looks broken. Well, that won't fucking do. I need my Ash back. My beautiful, beaming boyfriend, who calls me out when I'm acting too cocky. The one who laughs at my stupid jokes ‘cause no one else gets them. The one who makes me feel more complete than ever have before in my life. Now I need for him to feel complete again, too, and not this broken. I want my Ash back and I'm gonna do my best to fix it.

"Just give me the basics so I can see if I did something wrong or if this guy needs to get his ass kicked."

"You better keep your mouth shut, Ashley," the guy shouts, blood spraying all over.

Raising my arm, I press it on his neck, making his head hit the truck. "Shut the fuck up. I wasn't talking to you, asshole."

I glance at Ash, feeling the weight of his silence as I wait for his reply.

"Right after my birthday, I started getting texts from some unknown number. It was Mom. She said she was leaving Rich but needed money and my help, so I agreed to meet her and give her cash, thinking she might come back with me. As soon as I saw him, I realized I'd been deceived and fallen for her lies again. It was him making her text me. I'm so sorry, Gage, but she's my mom and I thought this time she really meant it when she said she was leaving. I should have told you, but I was too afraid of how you would react."

Fuck. Since he felt like he had to keep this from me, I clearly didn't give him enough reassurance that no matter what he did or wherever he came from, I would always love him. If he's been keeping this to himself, I wonder what else he's too afraid to tell me. I can't do much to make him feel better right now with this jerk pinned, but I will once I get my Ash back home where he belongs.

"Don't worry about that now. Did you give them the money?"

"No. You got here before he could get his hands on it."

"That your mom in the truck?"

"Yeah," he replies softly, his gaze fixed on the ground beneath his feet.

Based on the little Ash just told me, I know they're not good people. No wonder he left his hometown if this is who he had to deal with. They're not gonna get away with upsetting him. Who the fuck do they think they are, hurting what's mine? Not wanting Ash to be part of this any longer or witness me losing control, I turn toward Max.

"Max," I snap. "Take Ash back to your truck. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay, but hurry in case someone called the cops," he replies.

Though I can hear Ash's protests, I know he's safe with Max looking after him. I push him out of my mind, focusing solely on handling this piece of shit in front of me. I want to make sure that it is imprinted on his fucking mind what happens when you touch what's mine.

"So, you thought you could just waltz into town, deceive Ash into giving you some fast cash you could snort up your nose or inject into your veins? You thought you were a big man, huh? You thought you had the upper hand on my Ash?" I lean in closer, trying to suppress the foul smell of decay mixed with the metallic smell of blood.

"Let me be perfectly clear: if I ever lay eyes on you in this area again, or if I learn that you've been in touch with Ash, I will inflict such brutality upon you that your flesh will be torn from your body while you're still breathing. And then, I will dispose of what's left by feeding you to my pigs. They will gobble you up, erasing any evidence of your existence. Do I make myself clear?"

The look on his face is priceless. Wouldn't be surprised if he shit his pants. I might not have any pigs, but I would find some if it came down to it. ‘Cause ain't nobody gonna mess with anyone I care about.

As I ease off him, he musters one last attempt to lash out at me, so I swiftly punch him in the gut for good measure. I let him cry like a little bitch and watch him double over and fall to his knees. I yank the truck door open, and the woman shrinks back. "So, you're Ash's mom?"

She just nods her head and looks down at her hands. Clearly, she's been conditioned to not look anyone in the eye. As I take her in, I notice how tiny and malnourished she appears, with greasy strands of hair hanging limply around her face. The guy on the ground is likely the cause of the bruises around her wrists. Through the thin material of her black T-shirt, I notice the sharp angles of her protruding bones. It's clear that there's no helping this woman, but Ash's empathy compelled him to try, anyway. It's unfortunate that she lacked the bravery to truly break free from this asswipe. It saddens me to see that this woman, who is now a mere shell of herself, is Ash's mom. He deserves better.

"I'm Gage," I say firmly, my words laced with disappointment. "I'm your son's partner, and I believe it's best if you stay away from him. You're not good for him. I'm taking care of him now. Forget about him. He's dead to you."

Again, she just nods. I can't believe she's not even willing to fight for him, her own flesh and blood. Is she that soulless? It's heartbreaking that she believes this guy is her only option, but addiction has a way of eroding one's spirit, leaving behind nothing but a hollow husk. Some people come back from it, and through sheer determination, they rebuild themselves, earning my utmost respect. Any form of addiction not only destroys your life but also has a detrimental impact on those around you. Her actions have harmed my Ash, and I can't find it in my heart to forgive her.

I look down at the pathetic guy in front of me. My hate isn't worth wasting on someone like him. So, I turn toward the truck where Ash is waiting for me, taking purposeful steps forward to the person I love the most. Walking toward my future, I can only hope that he'll find it in his heart to forgive me for my impulsive decision to follow him.

Max is standing by the truck, and as I approach, he says, "Go to the washroom. It's right over there. Make sure you clean up. You don't want Ash to see you like this. I've got a spare shirt for you to change into."

"Thanks, man. Where is he?"

"Lying in the truck, fucking catatonic, man. He didn't say a word to me. You're the one he wants."

I'm coming, baby. I'm coming. "You think anyone called the cops?"

"Nah, they would've arrived by now, but regardless, it was an act of self-defense."

With a nod, I jog over to the washroom, strip off my shirt, and toss it into the trash can, feeling a sense of relief knowing Ash is safe. After a quick cleanup, I grab Max's shirt and hurriedly put it on before returning to the truck.

Upon opening the passenger side door, Ash quickly sits up and utters an apology, his tears flowing freely. Getting inside, I immediately pull him to me, wrapping my arms around him tightly. The feeling of him in my arms settles me, and I let out a deep sigh.

"Don't worry, baby, I got you. Let's go home."

With tears streaming down his face, Ash buries his head in my lap, curling up in the seat and clutching at me as if his life depends on it, his apologies pouring out in a never-ending stream. I gently run my hand through his hair until he passes out. The drive back to the bar is silent while I reflect on everything that occurred and attempt to understand why Ash kept this information from me. The only option now is to wait until we're back home, but one thing is for sure: he needs to tell me the truth.