Chapter 3

3

ASHER

L ying awake listening to Logan being fucked by the help on the other side of the wall is not exactly how I would choose to spend my evenings. In fact, I would rather stick TNT in both my ears and blow them clean off. Yet by some sick intervention of the gods, and Elle King, my bedroom here at the house just happens to share a wall with Lincoln Blackwell's. It seems my best friend didn't see any sense when allocating all the rooms on this side of the house to each of us. I mean fuck, I'd rather have endured Jace Conrad and all of his escapades, not that he has any with his girlfriend lately, but I'm sure it would be better than this hell I find myself in almost every weekend recently.

I could always go home. I don't technically live here, not after I dropped more zeros than I cared to count on my penthouse in town, but no matter how much time I spend there, it just doesn't feel like home yet. It's always cold and lifeless, which I should be used to given the house I grew up in, but it seems even burning that to the ground didn't erase the ghosts that haunt me.

Waking up to my daughter is the only thing that keeps my head on straight these days, and given the tainted blood we both share, I have a lot to make up for to give her the best childhood possible. Which means I only ever end the night at the penthouse when I have an early meeting at the office, or if I know Cassie is out of town, which isn't very often, so most nights I end up here, waiting for her to wake up. And it's for her that I must suffer Blackwell and his bullshit, and as for Logan, well I am sure he will get bored of Lincoln soon like he does with everyone else, and I can go back to my peaceful, sleepless nights.

Determined to ignore the two of them, I give up on the sleep that always eludes me, and decide to change into some workout clothes and head down to the gym to clear my head instead. It's there where the other Rebel of the South Side finds me, and not the one I can actually tolerate.

A few months ago Jace Conrad could barely remember where this place was, but since getting out of rehab he seems to have turned things around. He doesn't acknowledge me of course, his eyes barely ever turning in the direction of what he sees as a deadly Donovan. Not that I can blame him, the sins of my father and brother against him can never be repaired no matter how hard I try. I wish things were different, I wish I could bring his sister and Taylor back, I guess I wish a lot of things, but none of that matters now. Things happened, and we are all stained by them forever.

We train in silence for about an hour before Marcus joins us with a smile. If there's one thing that made it through all the darkness it's him and Elle, and I will always be grateful for it. The love he shows my best friend, and in turn our daughter, gives us all hope in the wake of tragedy, and I don't think he will ever know how much I appreciate him.

He makes his way to me first, knowing that now he's here I won't stay long, because if he's here then my daughter is awake and my workout is over. He waits for me to return my weight to the stand before he holds out his fist, and I sit up and bump it like I am another one of his Rebels, which in his eyes I am, and for that I smirk as he teases, "Look who made it home to mom and dad's house again."

I roll my eyes at his joke, reaching for a towel to wipe my brow as I toss back, "If I didn't come home, mom would hunt me down, and we both know I don't want to be on the end of that pretty lethal weapon."

"Are you talking about her blade, or my soon to be wife herself?" He muses with a smile, reminding me happily about their upcoming nuptials.

Most people might think that they are too young to get married, but those people don't know Elle and Marcus. They were made for one another, and I can't wait to walk my best friend down the aisle in a few weeks and watch the two of them promise to love each other forever, just like they did when we were ten years old.

"Both, always both," I laugh, as I stand from the weight bench and grab my discarded workout top. "Now if you'll excuse me, there is a pretty girl waiting upstairs for me," I start as I move past him towards the door. "And my daughter is with her too," I add with a smirk, dodging the workout towel Marcus snaps at me as I leave.

"It's not too late for me to kill you, you know," he yells at my retreating form, and I laugh.

"Someone already tried and failed that, remember?" I toss back, not missing the look in Jace's eyes through the mirror as I say that, and I grimace a little as we both remember the day we almost died. It's the only common ground we share, except where I remember it as us and them, he remembers it as them and the Donovans. All of them, including me.

It's why I don't stop or turn around and try and say anything else, I don't bother waiting to hear if Marcus responds, or if Jace chips in. I just keep my legs moving as my fingers absentmindedly reach up and caress the spot on my chest that bears the scar that saved Elle's life.

I still remember that split second that almost cost me her, and it was a no brainer, it was her or me, and I chose me. I took that bullet without a second thought, ready to die for her, to let her live, to let my daughter have her mother, and I haven't once regretted it. The scar doesn't just remind me that I almost died, it also reminds me that I almost lost her, and that is something I never want to experience again. It's why I don't let people in, because the more you have, the more you have to lose, and I already have way too much.

After the fourteen hour surgery that saved my life, I woke up and realized how much I truly have in my life, and it's something I'm still not sure how to deal with. I don't feel emotions like normal people do, I don't indulge in things as simple as lust, or sex, or even friendship outside of Elle. Yet here I am now, not just with Elle and Cassie, but Marcus, Zack, the Roytons, and hell, even the damn Rebels despite me trying to avoid them, and it leaves me feeling weak. That's too many people to protect, I almost already failed once, and I don't plan on ever doing it again.

After I burned my family estate to the ground and ruined my father's business, I focused on helping Elle with the setup for The Kennedy Foundation, and Zack with Royton Tech, all while letting my own business deals run themselves with the people I employ in the background. I have more money than any one person would ever need, and I use it all to protect my family.

It's with that thought in mind that I head to my room to shower and change for the day, then go in search of my daughter. I find both her and Elle in the kitchen making pancakes, which is no surprise to anyone if you know the two of them, and when I push open the door and enter, they greet me with matching smiles .

"Daddy," Cassie squeals, clapping her flour covered hands in my direction, to which I move toward instantly. "We're making pancakes," she adds, as I reach her, and when I scoop her off the island she giggles.

Whenever I have her in my arms like this I can't help but wonder how my parents did it. How my mother left me, how my father mistreated me, how they took something so small and so innocent and ruined it forever. I was a child, I didn't know any better, they were the adults, they were the ones who were supposed to look after me, protect me, save me from all the monsters under my bed, not become them themselves. Now here I am, a parent myself, one who would raise hell to protect the little girl in my arms, and I have, repeatedly, and I did that when I was still a child myself. So why couldn't they?

Elle and I were forced into these roles thanks to the atrocities of our families, and the broken bonds of our bloodlines, yet somehow we still made it work. Somehow our little girl smiles when she sees us, laughs when we have her in our arms, and falls asleep every night knowing we will always save her. We did that, not because of them, but in spite of them. And as her tiny, innocent arms curl around my neck, I know I would do every bad thing I have ever done again just to keep her safe.

"I can see that, Angel," I reply, rubbing her small back and breathing in her scent that always calms me. "Are you making them just for you and mommy, or can daddy eat some too?" I ask, as the kitchen door swings open behind me, but my focus remains on her.

"I have something daddy can eat," Logan interrupts from behind me, and my spine stiffens at the sound of his voice, as the calmness my daughter brought to me disappears entirely with just his presence.

"Logan," Elle snaps, with not a serious enough bite to her tone for my liking, but what can I expect, he's not exactly an enemy. No, he's much worse than that, he's family, the kind we don't murder in cold blood, or so I'm told apparently.

"Morning sis," he replies with that smooth flirty tone of his, not hearing the subtle, barely-there warning in her one word. "And how's my favorite niece," he adds, moving towards me, and leaning in to drop a kiss to Cassie's head, bringing his husky scent with him. You'd think after six years I'd be used to him by now, that his need to always invade my space and flirt with me would be easy to put up with, but he always seems to get under my skin.

"I'm good, Uncle Lo," she beams at him, always so genuinely excited to see her happy-go-lucky uncle, who gets a kick out of being so well liked by her.

I move away from him instantly, and deposit Cassie back onto the island beside Elle before pouring myself a coffee. "Here for another fun-filled weekend I see," I say, turning and leaning against the counter and returning my stare to my daughter and her mother as they continue to make breakfast.

"Of course, you know how I love to be filled," he replies, and my stare flicks to his and he winks, as Elle snaps his name again.

"Logan," she drags out, looking pointedly at our daughter, but he just shrugs, with that insufferable smile still in place.

"Where's Superman?" Cassie cuts in, breaking the tension and dropping my least favorite name, and Logan immediately turns his attention to her.

"He's in the shower, he will be down soon," he replies and Cassie screws up her face in question.

"But he got a shower last night before bed, he told me," she starts, staring at him in wonder before shrugging her shoulders. "He must be very dirty if he already needs another one," she adds innocently, and Logan's smile only widens as he flicks his stare back to meet mine.

"Oh you have no idea," he purrs, with another cocky wink, and my fingers flex in anticipation of hurting him, but that would only serve in pissing off Elle.

"Logan, I swear to god," Elle starts, pointing the whisk at him, and he holds his hands up in defense, just as the man in question enters through the kitchen door, looking fresh and clean.

"Superman!" Cassie yells, almost diving off the island, forcing me to snap forward to break her fall with one arm, so she can reach the floor and barrel towards him.

Of course he catches her with ease, an easy smile spreading across his mouth as my daughter embraces him with nothing but love, and for a second that darkness that always surrounds him lessens. I see it every time they interact, the hole she and Elle have penetrated through the mask he wears for the world. I know the effect they can have on people, I see it with everyone in my life, but no one more than him.

"Morning, Cass," he greets her, bringing his stare to the rest of us as he adds with a nod, "Elle, Ash." That one shortened syllable of my name infuriates me to no end. He knows it, yet he still uses it every day.

Of course he doesn't need to greet Logan, because they spent the whole night together, well most of it at least. So instead, he moves towards me with purpose, my daughter still gently gripped in his hold, as he reaches around me to grab a coffee mug. I can feel the heat of the shower still clinging to him, and the cedar wood scent his skin no doubt soaked in as he washed, and I grimace at both, ignoring the goosebumps it evokes as my daughter smiles up at him.

"Do you want to have some pancakes with me and mommy?" Cassie asks sweetly, and Logan instantly protests.

"Hey, you didn't offer me pancakes," he grumbles, taking the same seat Lincoln was in around the island last night, and pouting at her .

"Maybe because you were being an asshole," I mumble quietly into my coffee, but apparently not quiet enough.

"Swear jar, Daddy," Cassie yells from beside me, and Lincoln smirks, as Elle huffs at all of us.

"Children," she mutters under her breath, giving up on waiting for Cassie to return to her, and dumping the pancakes into the pan to start cooking.

"Yeah, Daddy, pay up," Logan flirts once more, and I roll my eyes, as I reach into my wallet and hand him a Benjamin, which he promptly puts into the very full swear jar that sits on the center of the counter.

"None of you are getting pancakes if you don't stop it," Elle cuts in, shooting a scathing look at all of us, and we don't dare say anything in return as she flips all the ones she has in the pan.

Instead I focus on drinking my coffee as Lincoln moves to take a seat beside Logan, my daughter still in his arms as if she is the most precious thing in the world to him. Oblivious to my watching, Cassie points out all the toppings to the pancakes she and Elle have placed in little bowls, and both of them listen to her animated story with keen interest.

When she is done and Elle starts plating up breakfast, Cassie looks up at Lincoln and frowns. "You look tired, Superman, are you tired?" she asks full of concern, and for a second his eyes collide with mine before they focus back on her.

"Just a little, I didn't sleep very well," he admits softly to her, and I don't miss Logan's smirk at his words, as if recalling the very reason why Lincoln didn't sleep well, and I grind my teeth.

"Did you have bad dreams again?" She pushes for more information, and the question strikes me because it's clear this is something they have talked about before.

"No, not last night," he tells her with a reassuring smile, no doubt not wanting her still innocent mind to worry about him.

"That's because Uncle Lo was here," she replies simply with a smile. "I never have bad dreams when I have someone to cuddle with."

At her words, Lincoln flicks his stare to the man in question and they share a smile. A smile that holds secrets, a smile that holds promises, a smile that holds something more than casual, and suddenly my coffee tastes a little bitter in my mouth as I watch them. They look just like everyone else in this house: happy, settled, in love, it makes my stomach turn. All the blood, all the trauma, and somehow they are able to get through it because they have each other.

"I mean, I am an exquisite cuddler," Logan beams, reaching out to steal Cassie from Lincoln, pulling her into a bear hug and making her giggle.

"Hmm, you're alright I suppose," Lincoln murmurs as he watches them, before his eyes slowly lift to mine, holding my stare as he adds, "I haven't had better yet."

With his response, I feel not only Logan's stare boring into the side of my head, but Elle's too, and thankfully my best friend decides to take pity on me. "Come on, baby girl, let's go and eat in the dining room, and leave these silly boys to all their testosterone," she says to our daughter. Okay maybe not pity.

Logan shakes his head with a laugh as he drops a final kiss to Cassie's head and sets her down, as she responds to her mom, "What's testosterone?"

Elle looks pointedly at the three of us, before dropping her gaze to Cassie. "It's what makes boys dumb," she replies casually, slipping her own hundred in the swear jar as she adds, "Bye assholes."

Cassie quickly stops to hug my legs. "Bye, Daddy," she muffles against my thigh, and I have barely cuddled her back, before she is taking off after her mom. "Bye, Angel," I call out after her, but she is already quick on Elle's heels.

The three of us all watch them leave into the dining room, and I catch a glimpse of both Marcus and Jace following after them, no doubt smelling the girls' signature pancakes, but I am left behind with Lincoln and Logan.

Silence lingers between us as I glance at the two of them and find Lincoln still watching me closely, while Logan watches him. I focus back on my coffee and try to ignore the tension that for some reason now builds around us. I need to leave, I need to get to the office, I have work to do and clients to meet with, but my feet stay rooted to the spot like they have a mind of their own. And when it comes to these two, I guess they do.

After the silence stretches on for what feels like forever, Logan finally relents with an amused sigh, "Well, as always, I'll leave you two to whatever kind of foreplay this is, because I need to head back to the city. I have stuff going on most of the day." His words have what I can presume are their desired effect, because Lincoln instantly breaks his stare and turns to look at him, but he doesn't say anything. "Call me tonight?" Logan adds in a slight question, closing some of the distance between them.

"Sure, I'll call you," Lincoln finally replies with a smirk, and then to both our surprises, Logan leans up and presses his lips to his.

A frown instantly takes over my face, because despite having to endure their extracurricular activities with one another on multiple occasions, I have never had to see it. Well, except for that one time in the gym, but I don't ever think about that. Yes, everyone knows they are fucking regularly, we aren't blind, Logan is now here every weekend, but as far as we are all concerned that's all it is. Or was, I guess, because right now there is nothing casual about the way Logan claims Lincoln right in front of me.

The kiss is soft at first, startling Lincoln by the looks of things, but once their lips collide it's like they are in their own little world with one another. One I am being forced into because still my feet refuse to cooperate and leave, so I am left here, a witness to their kiss, as something like sickness churns inside of me.

Logan might have started the kiss, but he isn't the one in control, no. From the second their lips touch, Lincoln's entire demeanor changes as if he becomes someone different. It's fascinating. I shouldn't be watching them, I know that, but like that night in the gym, I can't seem to turn away, and once again just like that night, my eyes collide with Lincoln Blackwell's.

He's staring at me, watching me while he kisses him, and despite his lips being covered by Logan's, I can tell he is smirking. I'm not sure what kind of game he is trying to play with me, but I want no part of it. I thought he would have realized that by now, so instead of backing down like I know he wants and expects me to, I smirk right back. Yet he isn't deterred, if anything it looks like it only spurs him on into deepening the kiss, until Logan breaks away completely breathless and no doubt aroused. And when he notices where Lincoln's attention lies, he follows his stare straight to me.

"What's the matter, my little psycho," Logan purrs, a charming and inviting grin on his face. "See something you like?"

My smirk only grows, typical Logan, the one I have come to know well in the last six years, but apparently he doesn't know me in the same way. "If I saw something I liked, Royton, I'd take it," I calmly reply, despite my rapidly beating heart thundering inside my chest.

"Now we both know that's a lie, Daddy Donovan," he quips back with a lick of his lips, and my eyes track the movement. I feel Lincoln watching us with anticipation, but thankfully Logan's future career as a surgeon is more pressing than his need to flirt with me, apparently. "Anyway, like I said, I must be going." He presses one more swift kiss against Lincoln's lips, which he anticipates this time and returns it with ease.

"I'll talk to you later," Lincoln confirms once more, and I have to refrain from rolling my eyes.

Logan nods, flicking his stare between the two of us before turning to leave, but not before he calls out, "Have a good day at work, Darling."

Lincoln shakes his head with a laugh. "Thanks," he sighs, watching him leave, but Logan pauses at the threshold of the door.

"I was talking to Ash," he confirms with a wink, before he disappears completely, leaving me alone with Lincoln.

His presence is something I have had to learn to endure, like Logan's, I mean he is part of my life now, my family, hell, we work in the same office five days a week thanks to our loyalties to Zack and Royton Tech. Yet for some reason, just being around him unnerves me. I wish I could say it's because I don't trust him, but deep down I know I do. He has protected Elle at every turn, risked his life to save my daughter's, and is always there for Marcus and Jace, so I know it isn't that, but I can't quite put my finger on whatever it is.

My face must show my displeasure because Lincoln smirks as he moves to where I am still leaning against the counter, depositing his mug into the sink, as he asks, "Did you enjoy the show?"

My eyes snap towards him at his audacity, still finding that smirk in place, and I swear the need to carve it off him pulses through me, with something else I don't recognize. "Trust me, Blackwell, it doesn't even make the top ten." My answer only makes him smile wider, as he leans on the counter beside me, bringing that cedarwood of his with him, and I have to swallow down thickly.

"Yeah, I guess it's hard to beat our night in the gym, huh?" He all but whispers, and I have to turn my head to look at him in contempt. I'm sure he can see the goosebumps on my skin, the thrumming of the vein in my neck, he's just as observant as I am, and I see his eyes tracking me, yet he doesn't comment on it.

Silence stretches out in the barely there space between us, and I swear I can still feel the heat of his skin from the shower. That or I'm burning up and there is something wrong with me. That's the only thing that can explain this tingling feeling in my stomach, the pounding of my heart, the sweat on my back, I must be sick. I keep my gaze on Lincoln's and his flicks between my own and my lips, and I must be seeing things, because I swear he moves closer, and I have to fight the urge to reach up and loosen my tie.

"Wanna ride?" He adds, moving swiftly past what he just insinuated, and his proximity feels toxic as his question flows into my mind.

"Excuse me?" I ask, horrified at the thought that Logan might be rubbing off on him in more ways than one.

"To work," he confirms with an almost innocent smile, as if he could ever be such a thing. "Do you want a ride to work?"

"No, I will drive myself like always," I snap back, moving to discard my own coffee, washing both of our mugs as he watches me silently, before leaving them on the rack to dry.

"Of course, god forbid, Asher Donovan ever let someone else take control of him," he quips back, and I find myself captivated by the changes in him.

Gone is the quiet and stoic Rebel I became used to, and in his place is someone who invades every aspect of my life, taking up space no matter where I look. He wasn't like this before, but I have seen him become more and more comfortable every day, and I don't know how he does it, not when I know some of the things he went through as a child. I thought we were the same, both stained by our father's sins, but it seems the work he is doing at night is helping him through his, or maybe it's who he is doing at night.

Either way, he is trying to break through a wall that is impenetrable and he needs to remember that. So I don't bother hiding the devil that lurks within me as I reply, "The last time I let someone take control, my best friend was raped in front of me, so forgive me if I don't see the appeal in it."

If I didn't know him as well as I do, I would miss the slight flinch at my words, but I don't, others would, but when it comes to Lincoln Blackwell, I see everything. Yet he pushes it down and steps towards me until I am almost suffocating on his closeness. "I know what it's like to feel helpless, I've been there, just like you, and trust me when I say, sometimes not being in control is the most fun you will ever have, you should try it sometime."

His words cause a visceral reaction inside of me, blood rushing south in my body, as I mock a laugh in a desperate attempt to hide his effect on me, "Oh yeah, is that an offer, help?" I ask, taking a measured step back from him, but not dropping his stare.

He, on the other hand, lets his eyes drop the full length of me before they come back to meet mine, as he purrs, "Only if you want it to be, Dark Prince." That nickname he favors lingers in the air between us, before he turns and leaves, but like Logan he can't resist calling out once more. "Let me know when you want me to break that top ten record, I'll be ready."

The last thing I hear is his soft chuckle as I watch him leave, yet still somehow not escaping his all-consuming presence as my entire body flames in his departure.