5. Ashby

Chapter 5

Ashby

THREE MONTHS LATER

T wo years, one month, sixteen days and twelve hours.

That's how long it's been since he left me.

My feral guardian.

My protector.

My forever person.

I rub my chest, the all-too-familiar confusion and sadness flowing through me as I trudge down the street. Staring at my feet, I take each step carefully so I don't slip on a slick spot of ice. I tug my jacket closer and allow myself a moment to wallow in the pain of abandonment, then slap a pleasant smile on my face. I reach the café, take a second to square my shoulders, and clear my mind before pulling the door open and heading inside.

It's a small place on Main Street that quickly became my go-to spot when I needed to get out of my condo and feel less alone. It has a warm and inviting atmosphere, and there are often multiple people scattered throughout the tables working on computers or reading books. I settle into my usual booth near the back and set up my laptop. It's close to the bathroom and in a corner, so no one can sit behind me and see what I'm working on.

In the past year, Vince has started letting me get more and more involved in the family business. I don't participate in the violent side of his organization, but I have completely taken over his accounting and bookkeeping. I work my magic, using my skill with numbers and near-perfect memory to find ways to funnel his money so that he never gets into trouble with the IRS or the feds. My mom wasn't pleased when he offered me the position, but I told her it was this, or I'd move across the country and take a job at a corporation that had been trying to hire me for months where I would be making millions. She'd taken the threat seriously, as she should, and now I was making millions while remaining close to home.

I moved out once I started working. Mom tried to fight me on that as well, but I refused to stay in a home that constantly reminded me of the one person I believed would love me forever. I bought a nice condo in what she deemed a safe area in the city just to ease some of her worries. There's a doorman and 24-hour security. My place is large with an open floor plan. It has three bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, and a movie theater/game room that would make all my online gamer friends jealous if they ever saw it.

"Hey, Ash," my second favorite voice calls, and I look up with my first genuine smile since I woke up today as Atlas approaches me, my usual order held in his hands.

"Hey, Atlas." I smile, taking the chocolate-filled scone and iced caramel macchiato from him. "Do you have time to sit and chat for a bit? It doesn't seem too busy."

He glances around the shop before nodding and settling into the seat across from me. I close my laptop so he can't see what I'm doing. I trust Atlas; he has quickly become my closest friend, but I know Vince wouldn't like me showing outsiders his private information.

"How's work so far today? You opened, right?" He nods, and I notice the dark circles under his eyes, the chipped pink polish on his nails, the way his uniform is rumpled, and his signature makeup nowhere to be seen.

"Yeah, I did. It's been easy so far," he says, his voice naturally soft and quiet. "Most people aren't willing to go out in the snow since the weather's supposed to get worse."

"Are you okay? You look exhausted."

"I am. I worked at the restaurant last night, and then my roommates were having a party when I got home, so I didn't get much sleep before I had to wake up and come in to work here." A large yawn cuts into his words, and I sigh, feeling helpless. The thought of kidnapping him and forcing him to stay with me, eating and sleeping until he regains his bubbly personality, has crossed my mind on many occasions. But I've never been able to follow through on my darker impulses without Storm by my side.

"Please, Atlas. I've begged you over and over. Come and live with me. I have too much space, and I get so lonely there by myself," I plead, reaching out to take his hand in mine. We are similar in height and build, but his hair is chocolate brown, and his eyes are the color of honey. His skin is also a few shades darker than mine, thanks to his Colombian heritage.

"I can barely afford the place I'm at now despite having three roommates and two jobs," he says, using the same argument as always.

"You don't need to worry about that. I don't pay rent for my condo." I leave out the fact that it was paid in full when I bought it, not wanting to rub my money in his face, remembering what it feels like to be so broke and desperate. "You could just help with the utilities or the groceries," I ask for the hundredth time. I don't need his money, but I know he'd never accept a free ride.

"I'll think about it," he responds, but I can hear something change in his voice this time, like he might truly consider my offer. "I'm just so fucking tired. Maybe I could come have a sleepover?" He's been over plenty of times. He is one of the few people who has actually spent time in my home besides myself or my parents. He even has his own room, but I don't say anything. I don't want him to feel forced or guilted into staying with me. I need it to be his choice. "I got lucky somehow, and both my schedules lined up, so I don't have to work either job tomorrow."

I try not to let my happiness show, but hacking into both places' computers and tweaking his schedule so he could finally have a day off was much easier than I expected. They had surprisingly little cyber security or protection. I'd even put in that he was to get a two-dollar raise at the coffee shop. The owner is a wealthy businessman who has the money to spare. His wife wanted something of her own, so he bought her the place, but she quickly grew bored and rarely comes to work anymore. Atlas has been doing her job managing the place for over a year for pathetic pay, and I'd had enough. The man never even noticed the change, and I could see how the extra money helped ease some of Atlas's stress.

"Yeah! That's a great idea. Your room is always waiting for you. We can play some games and then watch scary movies!"

Atlas sighs, the sound full of so much emotion. "That sounds perfect."

"Okay. What time are you off? I have a few more things to do for work today, but I should be done in a few hours," I say.

"Fuck, I wish I was as smart as you so I could get a genius job and make millions," he says, slouching in his chair.

"If you could do anything, what would you want to do with your life?" I ask him. His head tilts to the side, his eyes getting a faraway look.

"Well, if I picture my perfect life, I think I would like to run my own coffee shop bookstore. I really love working here, making the drinks and baking the treats. Adding a bookstore, surrounded by books and people reading, would be amazing. But I see the money that goes into running this place as it is, and I don't think I'll ever be able to do that." He shakes his head, the dreamy look disappearing in a blink. I know I could easily give him the money to do just that, but if he isn't willing to live with me rent-free, there's no way he would accept a few hundred thousand dollars to buy and expand this place.

The bell over the door dings, and Atlas glances over his shoulder. "I better get back to work. I'll see you after my shift. I get off around five if Meg is on time. Do you want me to bring anything?"

"No, I'll order us a couple of pizzas, and I have plenty of snacks and drinks," I say.

He smiles excitedly and has a little more bounce in his step as he walks away. I drag my laptop over and pull up the program I created to do all my work. I settle into my seat, munching away on the delicious treat and overly sweet drink.

Atlas knocks on my door at six thirty. The exhaustion from this morning has returned, and there's a large coffee stain on the front of his wrinkled white shirt.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Meg never showed, so I had to call in someone else, but they weren't available until six, and then I had to run home and grab a bag." He lifts the small pink duffle bag gripped in his hand. "I was going to shower and change, but I was already running so late I didn't want to keep you waiting. Sorry I'm such a mess."

"There's nothing to be sorry for. I'm just excited to have you over." I motion for him to step inside, and he stands in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that line my living room.

"This view is amazing. I've always kind of hated living in the city. I felt trapped and claustrophobic. But this view always reminds me how beautiful it can be here. I think because we are so high up it feels almost separate."

"You can shower in your room and get into comfier clothes."

He nods and follows me as I walk him through the apartment towards the extra room designated as his, even if he refuses to move in.

We pass by the kitchen on the way. It's large with the latest stainless-steel appliances that rarely get used unless my mother comes over to cook for me. I tend to stick to takeout or leftovers. My room and the other guest room are near Atlas's. The layouts are all very similar, but my room has the biggest closet and a special bathroom setup I designed myself.

"Fuck, Ash," Atlas groans, setting his bag on the king-size bed and flooping on top of the plush floral covers. I let Atlas pick them out, along with the other decor in the room.

Across from the bed is a flat-screen TV hanging over a gas fireplace. On either side are the doors that lead to the walk-in closet and the bathroom. To the left of the bed is a purple velvet couch and two overstuffed chairs sat before a large window; to the right, the wall is lined with bookshelves. This room, like mine, also has a private balcony space with two white metal chairs and a small matching table. "This room alone is nearly as big as my whole apartment. You know it's crazy for you to give me a whole room when I don't live here."

"Why don't you shower while I order the pizza?" Ignoring his usual objections to the room. No matter what he says I will always hold out hope for the day he finally leaves his garbage apartment and moves here with me.

He nods and disappears into the bathroom.

Leaving Atlas's room, I stop inside the theater. A widescreen covers the entirety of one wall, and there are three rows of long, deep couches spaced out on risers like a real theater. To one side, I have my computer set up; on the other, I have a bar stocked with drinks, snacks, candy and a popcorn machine. I know it's a lot for just one person, but this room is my safe space, the place I go to forget about the fact that the love of my life abandoned me and my father was a monster. I turn on the popcorn machine so that the buttery treat will be ready by the time we come to watch our movie and head back to the living room.

I order pizza and settle on the couch to flick through channels. After only thirty minutes, my phone chimes, letting me know the delivery driver is approaching the building. I yell to let Atlas know I'm heading down and hear him moving through his room, singing along to the music filtering out. Usually, deliveries would come up to the room, but after years with Vince, I learned it was always safer to come down and get my food than to let strangers get that close. Allowing strangers to get that close isn't safe. Especially when I don't have personal guards or staff to answer the door like he has at the estate.

That strange feeling like I'm being watched that I felt this morning washes over me again when I reach the lobby. I take a moment to look at all the people. I recognize each of them, but I can't shake the growing unease. Matthew, the front desk attendant, looks surprised when I walk up.

"Hey, I got a notification that my pizza was arriving and thought it'd beat them down here. Did you see the delivery person come in?" I ask, trying to shake the weird sensation still prickling over my skin. I look over the counter and realize there aren't any boxes waiting.

Matthew frowns, and my gut clenches. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ashby, I sent them up to your condo. He had a note saying the order was to be delivered to your door when it arrived."

Fuck. Without alerting him to my pounding heart rate and bubbling anxiety, I smile at Matthew. "Oh, I must have forgotten. I'm so used to coming down here to get my orders."

Matthew nods stiffly, his brow pinched oddly, and I turn away, walking as calmly as I can to the elevator. Once the doors close, I pull out my phone and immediately call Vince. I can hear the phone ringing, but the elevator doors ding open on my floor, and the sight in front of me stops my heart.

"Hello, Ashby. What's going on? Is everything okay?" I hear Vince asking.

"Oh fuck," I whisper, my hands starting to shake, and a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. I exit the elevator and walk as quietly as possible towards my front door. The wood hangs on its hinges, a large black boot print near the handle.

"Oh fuck," I whimper when I step inside and see splatters of blood and broken glass on the floor.

Vaguely, I hear Vince yelling, trying to get my attention.

"Oh fuck."

Fear pounds through me, and I race for the spare room. Atlas's bag is still on the bed, his pretty clothes folded neatly beside it.

"Oh fuck!"

"Ashby! Ashby, I need you to answer me right fucking now! What the fuck is going on? I've sent Elio over to check on you, but if you don't answer me right fucking now, I will get in my car and come myself."

"He's gone." I gasp, my heart clenching so hard it feels like I'm having a heart attack. "I brought him into my home. I put him in danger. And now he's gone. Taken."

I fall to my knees. The sound of my bones cracking against the tile like a gunshot in my ears. I glance around the room again and notice the red splatter across the kitchen island.

"Oh fuck."

I bend, and my stomach clenches tightly, forcing me to spill the contents of my stomach across the floor. I gag, eyes watering as my stomach continues to spasm until it's completely empty.

"Breath, Ashby. Slow down and take a few deep breaths." I do as he says, forcing my brain to focus so I can get the help I need for Atlas. "Now explain everything that's happened."

"I invited Atlas over to spend the night. I've been trying to convince him to move in with me and thought this would be the perfect chance. He was showering, and I ordered pizza. My phone said the delivery driver was approaching, but when I went down to get it, Matthew said he sent the delivery driver up. I had a bad feeling, so I called you. When I got up here, my door was open. There are signs of forced entry. There is blood and broken glass and no sign of Atlas. His bag is here, so I know he didn't leave on his own." I start to gasp, my chest burning as my lungs refuse to fill.

"He's gone. Oh fuck. He's gone, and someone took him. He is probably hurt and scared and so confused. He doesn't know about your real business. He thinks you're just a rich billionaire with a bunch of companies, and I do your accounting. I never told him about the other stuff. About the illegal activities and the violence. Oh fuck. Who took him? Are they going to kill him? He's my only friend left. Fuck, I can't breathe." I fight to suck in a full breath, slumping to the floor, barely avoiding the vomit. My phone falls from my hand and slides out of my reach, but I hear Vince barking orders on the other side.

"Don't worry, Ashby. I'm coming, and we will find whoever took Atlas. We will get him back. Can you get somewhere safe until I get there? Lock yourself in your bedroom, and don't open the door until you hear me or Elio."

I nod, crawling to the bedroom and locking the door.