10. Ashby

Chapter 10

Ashby

A fter our shower, Storm and I head back down to his dad's office. Vince, Garth and Elio are already there, and my mother is nowhere in sight.

"Where is Mom?" I ask Vince once I settle onto the couch with Storm glued to my side.

"I sent her out to work on her garden. You know how it helps to calm her and keep her mind busy," he says, and I nod.

"Matthew didn't have much for us," Storm says before we can get off track. "He was hired by an unknown source to keep tabs on Ashby and then was paid to tamper with the security feed. If it wasn't for the delivery app letting Ashby know the food was arriving, he would have been in the apartment when the men came and would have been taken."

Vince turns to Garth, who pulls his phone from his pocket, fire burning in his eyes. "This came while the two of you were questioning Matthew."

He turns it towards us, and I gasp, my heart racing. My chest clenches, and I fight back the urge to vomit. I snatch Garth's phone out of his hand and hold it close to my face, unable to look away.

Tied to a chair, face covered in bruises, bare chest dripping blood and cuts, is Atlas. His small frame trembles as he screams. "Please! Please! Why are you doing this? I don't have any money. I have nothing." He sobs. "Please let me go!"

His cries are cut off when a large dark figure walks into the frame and slams his fist into Atlas's side. I can hear the crunch as his ribs take the hit, Atlas's breathing grows raspy, and fury fights beside the fear filling me.

"You have forty-eight hours to bring me my son and pay me ten million for the wife you stole from me!" I can feel the blood drain from my face, my fingers trembling as a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. I barely make it to the kitchen before I'm puking all the contents in my stomach out into the trash. My body convulses violently as memories of my father threaten to overwhelm me.

My mother screaming.

The smell of blood.

The pain of my bones snapping beneath his blows.

Black spots dance along my vision, and my stomach heaves, but nothing comes up. I run my fingers through my hair, gripping the curls tight and pulling hard enough that a few strands rip free. My scalp burns, but it's not enough to make the horrific memories disappear.

I was fifteen when we escaped my father. I couldn't stand it another day, and we both knew if we didn't run, he would finally kill us. Mom took us right to Vince. I didn't know at the time who he was or why she trusted him, but she offered to work for him at his restaurant if he helped to hide us from my father. Vince found us an apartment in one of his buildings with great security. Mom enrolled me in an online homeschool program, and I almost never left the house for a year. Then Mom brought Vince home and told me they were getting married. We moved in with them just after I turned sixteen, and I got a somewhat normal life again.

My body sways dangerously, and the ground rises up to greet me. Before my skull connects with the hard tile floors, strong arms wrap around me. Storm pulls me close, one hand massaging my tender scalp as the other rubs calming circles over my back. I bury my nose against his chest, sucking in deep, ragged breaths of his scent. Storm murmurs quietly, my brain not processing his words but getting comfort from the sound of his voice. Slowly, the fear and darkness fade, and I can breathe easier.

"There you are, Sunshine," Storm says when I pull back enough to look up at his face. "I thought I'd lost you."

"I… I'm sorry," I rasp, my throat hurting as if I'd spent hours screaming. I cough and clear my throat. "I knew he could possibly find us again, but it's been five years. There was never even a hint that he was looking for us. It seemed as if he just didn't care that we'd disappeared." Storm winces, and my heart clenches. "What?"

"Well, that's not actually true," he says calmly, his face clearing of all emotion. "After the two of you ran and Dad helped get you settled, he kept a close eye on the two of you. I never realized it because he kept you both a secret, but he was gone a lot, and I got curious. I followed him one night and watched him go to the restaurant and sit in a booth, eyes glued to your mom all night."

Vince sits up straighter in his chair, staring at Storm as if this is the first time he has heard this.

"You went through my files?" Vince asks Storm.

"Duh," he says, rolling his eyes. "It wasn't even the first time. Or the last, to be fair."

Vince grunts, clearly annoyed to learn that his son has been snooping in his office. But before he can say anything else, Storm continues talking.

"Every once in a while, she would go over, and they would talk, but mostly he just watched her. When I got home, I went through his office to try and find out who she was. I found a file on your mom and you. There weren't any pictures of you but a full write-up about everything that had happened with your dad and how you were both hiding. There was another folder on your dad. The file had detailed notes from whoever was following your dad around. He was in the city going from school to school, looking for you. My dad and your mom knew he wouldn't stop looking, so they faked your deaths in a car accident and changed your names."

My mouth falls open, my mind spinning as I try to make sense of everything. I remember my mom coming home one day with some paperwork that said our names were changed, but she said it was just to be safe.

"She never told me," I whisper, turning to Vince. The look on his face is the only confirmation I need that Storm is telling the truth. "She never told me she faked our deaths. Why wouldn't she tell me that?"

"You know how your mom is, Ashby. All she ever does is try and protect you. I'm sure she didn't want to scare you with the knowledge your dad was getting close," Vince says.

"Okay, I can see that. But what was her reason for not telling me she faked out deaths? I feel like that would have eased a lot of my stress because it would have stopped Dad from looking for us."

"I don't know, Sunshine."

"Your mother worried that you would ask questions about how she was able to pull that off, and she wasn't ready to tell you about my job yet," Vince says.

I shake my head, forcing the million questions floating through my mind away.

"That's not important right now. Do we have any other ideas about where he might be holding Atlas or how we can get him back?"

"Yes," Garth hesitantly says, eyes flicking towards Vince and Storm. "But you won't like it." He says those words to Strom, and my spine stiffens. I hate when people speak around me and treat me like a child. Feeling me bristle, Storm runs his fingers lightly over my arm.

"Calm down, Sunshine. He doesn't know what a strong man you are. No one does but me. But we will show them." Storm's whispered words send a shiver down my spine.

"Speak," he snaps at Garth, who bristles at the tone and command but wisely doesn't snap back.

"There was more to the video." He pulls his phone back up so we can both see it and presses play again.

" I want Ashby and the money waiting for me at the third bench on the park's running trail. No one better follow him, or I will kill him before you can even scream. If you don't, then I will press charges on Marry for kidnapping my son five years ago, and I will burn your organization to the ground."

I stare, unable to form words, as the camera turns back to Atlas one last time. Just before it cuts off, two large men move toward him, and Atlas screams louder than he did when my father hurt him.

"Fuck! What are they doing to him? He looks so scared. When does my father want me to meet him?" I ask, hissing when Storm's fingers dig into my arms in a bruising hold.

"No," he growls. "Absolutely fucking not. You will not go anywhere near the park. You will not leave this fucking apartment until your father is dealt with. You will not give yourself up."

"But he's going to kill Atlas! And he threatened my mom and your dad!"

"I don't give a fuck about any of them. They aren't important. You are. You are mine, and your safety comes before all else. If that means your friend dies or your mom gets into a little trouble, I don't give a fuck. My dad has the best lawyer's money can buy, and there is no way your father could take apart our organization. Those were empty threats to scare us. We are too well protected, and my dad has connections with the police and government officials all over the world."

"What about Atlas, then?" I demand, tears burning in my eyes as I start to shake with both fear and anger. "He is my best friend. He was here for me when you weren't. He is the only friend I have. I can't lose him. Please, Storm," I beg, clutching his shirt so tight it rips. "Please don't let my dad take my best friend away from me."

Storm remains silent, staring at me with an intensity I know makes most men tremble, but I flourish beneath his gaze. He makes me feel seen and heard.

After a moment, he speaks. "You will not go to that drop." I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off with a dirty kiss, biting my lip hard. "But I will get your friend back and make sure he isn't killed. I'm not sure how yet, but I promise I'll do everything I can. Except put you in danger. Until then, I think we should move back to Dad's house. It is protected by a gate and 24/7 surveillance and security. We will be safer there, and I will be able to use his resources and men to find your dad."

My face twists with sadness and frustration. I don't want to be forced out of my home, but Storm is right. Vince's place has more security, and Storm will have better luck finding my father if he has help.

"Okay." I sigh, exhaustion weighing me down. "I need a nap."

Storm takes my hand and leads me to our end of the house. Our rooms are deep inside the mansion, far away from everything else. Before my mom and I moved in, he had the entire east wing to himself. It has a total of four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room space, a small library, a game room and a bar area for snacks and drinks. Vince was shocked and a little hesitant when Storm insisted I move into one of his rooms, but I loved it. Being close to him was great, allowing us to slip into each other's rooms without being caught. No one was permitted into Storm's section of the house without his express consent, and he kept the doors locked so everyone had to knock.

I can feel myself wavering on my feet, ready to collapse, so I just let Storm lead, not even speaking up when he passes my room and heads straight to his. Flicking on the lights, Storm does a quick scan of the space. It smells fresh, like it was recently cleaned, and I notice the bed sheets have been changed. There is a bowl of fruit, a plate of sandwiches and a tall pitcher of juice beside the bed, and I know Mom has been in here because they are all my favorites.

Storm pulls back the sheets and watches me climb into bed. I expect him to join me, but he tucks the blankets around me instead.

"I'm going to go back to Dad's office and work through more stuff while you rest. I will wake you if we find anything," he says before I can protest. He places a kiss on my forehead, and my eyes fall closed.

A barely audible knock on the door that leads into our section of the house pulls me from my restless sleep. Yawning, I stretch and climb from the massive bed. I pull on some jeans that are a little too tight and a T-shirt I haven't seen since I moved out.

"Coming!" I shout when the knocking comes again, louder and more demanding. I jerk the door open and barely repress an irritated groan. "God, Mom, what's the rush? And why are you even knocking? Usually you just barge right in."

Mom smiles, and I step aside, letting her in. "I didn't want to barge in in case you were... busy," she says with a mischievous little smirk, and I flush crimson, embarrassment and anger filling me. "And I only knocked again because I thought you might not have heard me. I would have come in if you hadn't come after that. I was just being polite."

I try to shove the anger down. I never enjoyed fighting with Mom, not after everything we went through with Dad, but this is different from anything she's ever done. I must not be as successful as I'd hoped because Mom frowns at me. "What's wrong, Ash? Are you worried about your friend? You know Vince and Storm will find him."

"You sent him away!" I snap, the anger and hurt I've felt since learning the reason behind Storm's disappearance bubbling over at her attempt to act like she has no idea what's going on.Mom flinches back, but I push on. "He was everything to me. My best friend. My protector. My first and only love. But you and Vince decided we needed to be separated without even talking to me. You threatened him, told him if he didn't go, you would send me away. You forced him to go, and then for two years, you let me think he chose to leave me, that he abandoned me. You took him away from me." My rant cuts off in a sob, and I stumble back when she tries to reach for me. "And then you have the nerve to come in here and joke about us being together as if it's no big deal."

"Ashby," Mom says, trying to reach for me again. "Please, sweetheart, let me explain."

"I don't have time right now. My best friend, the second most important person to me, was kidnapped because of me, and I need to go and help find him."

"Ashby, Vince and Storm are taking care of things right now. Please, just give me ten minutes to explain."

I huff loudly, my fists clenching so tight I feel my nails dig into my skin. "Fine. Ten minutes. But I'm not sure there is anything you could say right now to fix this. What the two of you did nearly broke me."

Tears glitter in Mom's eyes before spilling over and running down her pale cheek. "I didn't realize how important he was to you."

"You would have if you asked. You were so busy trying to protect me from the world, and I know you meant well, but you babied me. You treated me like I didn't have a mind or a voice of my own. I know what Dad did to you, to us, scared you. It scared me, too. But we escaped. We started a new life. You allowed yourself to be free and happy with Vince but kept me trapped in a box because of your fear." I take a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. "Storm was the first person to ever look at me and see more than just my past. He treated me as an equal even while protecting me from those wanting to hurt me with a fierceness that I know looks scary from the outside. But he cared about me more than anything else in the world. He listened to me when I talked, took an interest in my interests, and made sure I always got to do whatever I wanted, even if he had to sneak us out to do it. He knew me, Mom. He saw every scared, beaten, broken inch and loved me anyway. He helped me get stronger. He showed me I was more than the weak boy who couldn't protect his mother."

Mom gasps and I finally allow myself to look at her. Her cheeks are bright red and soaked with tears, and her hands are twisted tightly together on her lap. Her mouth opens and closes, only small broken sounds coming out.

"You are not weak," she whispers after a moment, wiping angrily at her tears. "What your father did to us was awful, but it was my responsibility to protect you, not the other way around. I did my best, but I should have gotten us out of there sooner. I'm sorry I let it go on as long as it did. I'm sorry I ever let him put his hands on you." I try to cut her off and tell her she did everything she could, but she holds up a hand to stop me. "I don't want to hear it, sweetheart. Your father was a horrible, broken man. Nothing he did was our fault, but I am your mother, and I failed to protect you. When we got away, I felt like I needed to make up for all the years I failed to protect you and went a little crazy. I saw the way Storm was obsessed with you. He followed you around like a feral dog, barking and attacking anyone who got too close. He snapped at his dad and even me if we ever said something he didn't like to you."

Mom smiles slightly at that, and a memory pops into my head. Storm, holding me behind his back as he yelled at his dad and my mom because mom tried to ground me for not turning in a project at school. They didn't know it, but I'd done the project. Before I could turn it in, one of the boys who loved to bully me caught me without Storm around and destroyed it.

"Then he started hurting you. It was small at first, the bruises on your neck. But I came to talk to you about it a few months before your nineteenth birthday, and I saw you with your shirt off. Your body was covered in bruises and cuts. I panicked and thought you were getting pulled into a situation like I was in with your father. Storm is the heir to his father's organization, and I have never seen him show empathy or remorse for anything he's done. I went to Vince and told him my fears, and he promised to keep an eye on things.

"It took a few weeks, but then he saw the same thing I did. He walked into the gym and saw you and Storm wrestling around on the mats, and your shirt had pulled up. He saw the marks covering you and promised he would find a way to fix this."

I can feel my heart racing, nerves and embarrassment nearly keeping me from speaking. "It was consensual," I speak barely above a whisper. Mom frowns, and I huff, stiffening my spine and blurt the rest out. " I like the way he marksmewhenwekiss ."

Now, it's Mom's turn to flush, the embarrassment on her face a mirror to my own.

"I love him, and he loves me," I say after an awkward silence. "We were fooling around together, and we both quickly learned how much we enjoyed having him mark me. They weren't bruises from him hurting me. They were bruises and scratches from him kissing me and claiming me."

"Well…" Mom stutters out. "How can you be sure he isn't taking advantage of you or using you? That kind of claiming is toxic and unhealthy, Ashby."

My fury returns, and I stand from my seat. "Mom, I need you to listen to me. Are you listening?" She nods slightly. "I love Storm. Nothing, and no one will EVER take him from me again. You and Vince did it once, but I will not let you do it again. I don't care what you think about our love; it's OURS . I don't need your approval. We are both consenting adults, and we were both consenting teenagers. Nothing we have ever done was through force or manipulation. I wanted it. I begged for it. I needed to feel wanted. All my life, I was told how weak I was, how pathetic and useless I was. Storm only ever made me feel strong and appreciated. He's obsessed with me, and being his sole focus is intoxicating."

I pause, my chest heaving as I struggle to slow my breathing and calm my heart. "He's mine just as much as I am his. He has just as many marks beneath his clothes as I do. This isn't one- sided. I love you, Mom, and I understand that you are only trying to protect me and that it's hard for you to trust after Dad, but I'm a grown man now. I trusted that you knew what you were doing when you married Vince, a crime boss and leader of a massive organization of illegal dealings. I never questioned your decision because I could see he made you happy. So, I expect the same respect and trust from you that I know what I am doing."

Mom stares at me, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. I can see she still doesn't fully trust the situation, but she must realize how serious I am because instead of arguing, she says, "I'm sorry, Ashby. You're right. You're an adult, and I need to trust you to make your own decisions."

"Thank you," I say and walk over to her, pulling her into a solid hug. "I love you mom."

"I love you too," she whispers against my hair.