Chapter 25

Twenty-Five

Since I'd taken a taxi to the track, I make the half-hour drive back to the hotel with Ash in the McLaren, my skin still tingling from the way he'd touched me. Held me. Made me his.

I sigh, letting my mind linger on the memory of the kisses he'd skimmed over my body. And from the words that had flooded through my soul with his touch. Want. Need. Mine.

Love?

Maybe, but I can't let that one into my head. It's too soon.

And far too scary.

"Tell me about your code," he says as soon as we're on the way. He's holding my hand, removing it only when he needs to shift gears. I don't have to ask for an explanation. I know he's referring to the QR code I'd pulled from my phone case earlier that evening.

That evening . Had it really only been hours since he'd seen those horrible images with me? Those vile "Greatest Hits?" I hug myself, hating that Ash knows what he now knows… but also glad that I have Ash to help me shoulder the burden.

I draw a deep breath to bolster myself. "I told you it was in the goodie basket from the book signing, right? Well, I'd just watched it when you knocked on my car window outside the coffee shop."

He turns long enough to meet my eyes, his own haunted. "No wonder you looked so spooked."

"We thought it might be you," I admit. "Aria and me. Mostly Aria. Like a criminal returning to the scene of the crime."

"And I came to your car because I wanted to see your reaction?"

"That was her theory."

"What do you think now?" he asks, turning to face me.

"I think you need to watch the road. And I think you're one of the most honorable men I've ever met. You wouldn't hurt me," I say, though some silent, inner part of me amends that statement to say that he'd never hurt me like that ." I'm not sure about emotionally. I think about how haunted he'd looked when the image of that woman — Delia—had popped onto the screen. I don't know the whole story, of course, but I don't think either one of us has a decent track record where relationships are concerned.

"I would never hurt you." His words are as solid as the man himself, and if nothing else, I know that he believes them. But where hurt is concerned, intent isn't always what matters. Like smoke, hurt can sneak into crevices and wind through weak spots. Most of my life has been an object lesson in that particular theorem.

"Do you have any idea who sent these QR codes?"

His question pulls me from my dark thoughts about his dead ex to dark thoughts about my kidnapping and our suspect list. With a sigh, I hug myself and shake my head. "Everyone involved in the kidnapping is dead now."

"Everyone that you know of who was involved."

"True." I don't like it, but since someone got their hands on those videos, it's a fair guess there was someone else involved. Or someone who knew Rory or one of the other players behind the whole, horrific scheme.

"Involved at the time, or became aware later," Ash says, when I share my thoughts. "Also, maybe they weren't involved back then, but they were aware. Maybe someone who was personally involved with Rory or one of the other players. They knew about the kidnapping but wanted nothing to do with it."

"And now they're hard up for cash?" I suggest. "Found the old footage and decided to take advantage?"

"Could be," he says.

"The problem is we don't have anything solid to go on."

" Yet, " he says. "We don't have anything to go on yet. " His hands tighten on the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. "I swear," he adds, his voice as sharp as a blade, "I will figure out who's behind this."

I want to bask in his certainty, but I know better than to blithely believe. "How?"

"I don't know," he admits. "But I will. You can count on it."

I let his words wash over me, expecting frustration. Instead, I feel hope. Because something in his tone tells me that he won't rest until he figures it out, and through it all, he's determined to protect me.

"We'll start with the QR codes," he says. "We have two, and presumably they go to different URLs. That's a lead."

"I saved the link to the first URL my code sent me to. I'm not sure if that will help, though."

"Never rule out anything," he says. "That might be key. And in about thirty-six hours, we'll have instructions for transferring funds, which should help, too. Money has to go somewhere. And we should be able to trace it."

"You can do that? It has to be undetectable, otherwise they'll release the images. And Ash, I really don't want those videos out there."

"They won't ever be. Not if I can help it." He reaches over and takes my hand, then gives it a gentle squeeze. "But you're strong, Bree. Stronger than you think. If they did get out, you'd survive. Hell, you'd do better than survive."

I manage a wan smile. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but if it's all the same to you, let's concentrate on not letting them know we're trying to trace anything."

"Agreed. And I have someone in mind."

My stomach twists at the thought of having someone else see those images, and when he squeezes my hand and whispers, "Need to know only," I melt just a little from the simple fact that he understands me so well.

"Thanks," I say, certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ash wouldn't intentionally hurt me. And that means he'll protect my secrets.

It also means I can trust him with more than he already knows. So I take a deep breath, then say, "Anne's on my video, too."

His head whips around, a wild fury coloring his face. I hold up a hand as I shake my head. "No, no. Not like what you saw them do to me. As far as I know, no one ever touched her."

I go on to explain what Aria and I had seen, especially the vile image of me with Anne in the frame.

"Those fuckers," he whispers. "I swear, I will find who—" He cuts himself off, and I watch as he forces himself back to calm. "I have your back now, baby. No one is going to hurt you like that ever again. As long as I'm drawing breath, no one is going to hurt you, period. Not you. Not Anne. And if we can help it, not anyone else, either."

The passion and promise in his voice seems to fill the car. It certainly fills me.

At the same time, though, I squirm a little. He's making a vow to protect me. But he only knows part of Brianna Bernstein. The part I show the world, covered and carefully cloaked to reveal only some of the flaws in the sculpture.

Granted, I've pulled back the cover more for him than anyone else except Aria. But what he doesn't understand and can't know is just how many spidery cracks run through me. Far too many to let me get truly close to anyone. Because with so many fault lines, any direct impact could shatter me. And even the pressure of a hug could make me fall apart completely.

I want to tell him. I want to believe that Ash is the glue that can ultimately hold me together.

But I say nothing. Instead, I just slip out of my shoes, pull my feet up onto the seat, and hug my knees as the desert slips by and the lights of Vegas grow brighter outside the window.

"It could be coincidental," he says after a few more miles, "but I find it very interesting that they chose three mil."

"Because of your company? Aria said the same thing."

"Did she?" He takes his eyes off the road and looks at me. "What else did she say?"

"Something about an investor pulling out, and that puts you in the hole for about three mil." I run my palms down the jacket of his I'm using as a lap blanket. "She might still think you're behind all of this. I haven't talked to her since—well, since before the interview with Maggie."

I suddenly realize how fast everything has moved. The bullshit interview. The trek to the Stark mansion. And then we were on the road. I hadn't even called Aria, just sent her a text telling her that Ash is helping me. She'd replied with a wide-eyed emoji, but nothing else.

"That's why I was at the track," Ash says, pulling my thoughts from Aria and back to his three-million-dollar hole.

"What do you mean?" I keep my voice calm despite the fingers of dread now creeping up my spine.

"My meeting tonight. It was with another investor. Turns out he's not investing a dime, much less millions. I went to the track to take the edge off after getting slammed with that bit of bad news."

He takes his eyes off the road long enough to meet mine. "Aria was right."

My entire body goes cold. "You're saying that you?—"

"Oh, hell no." His head whips around to look at me, and I'm certain the horror I see there is genuine. "You don't really believe that I would?—"

"You just said so!" I hear the edge of hysteria in my voice.

"I meant that she's right about the deficit. But that's my company, not me. I've got personal holdings. Real estate I bought when I started making money. A significant stock portfolio. And if I'm desperate, I even have a trust fund that Damien set up for me, which I swore I would never touch, and he swore I could leave untouched until Doomsday, but as his son, it was mine."

That's right," I say, remembering. "He and Nikki set up a trust for all the kids. When Damien learned about you, they never even hesitated. You're his son. You got a trust fund."

He says nothing to that, but I can't help but notice the way his body stiffens just a little and the way his chin lifts. "They certainly kept you in the loop."

"More like I'm invisible when I'm in nanny-mode. I probably shouldn't have told you that. It's something I overheard, and not my business. To be honest, I had forgotten all about it until you mentioned it. Sorry. I don't' mean to get all up in your business."

"It's fine."

He still doesn't look at me, and unlike his usual ease while driving, he's holding the steering wheel as if it's a life-preserver on the Titanic.

"Ash? Are you okay?" I feel like I've said something horribly wrong, but I don't know what it could be.

"I'm great actually." His voice is thick with emotion. "The truth is, I haven't touched that trust. I always felt it was his way of buying me off."

"Are you kidding? He loves you. The whole family loves you."

"I know. But I didn't believe it at the time, and I think that early animosity tainted that trust fund for me. Your reminder that they love me removed that shadow."

I hug myself, hating that he'd ever felt even the tiniest bit alienated from the people I knew genuinely loved him.

"I am a part of that family, now," he says. "It's a strange kind of miracle, but Damien truly feels like both my father and my friend. And Nikki feels more like an older sister than a stepmom. And those kids—I'd give my life for those kids, but they're so much younger they seem more like nieces and nephews than siblings."

"I get that."

"But none of that matters because at the end of the day, they're family, no matter what label I use. It took me a long time getting here. And a long time believing that Damien felt the same. And honestly, I don't think I knew until this moment how quickly he really did pull me into the family."

He reaches for my hand. So, thank you again," he says again, and it's only when I try to respond and can't that I realize my cheeks are wet and my throat is clogged with tears.

He lets go, then gently brushes my cheeks. "At any rate, the point is that Aria's right about the facts, but not about her conclusion. I've got enough assets to free up the three mil for you. And even though I'd rather go the OPM route, I've also got enough to bankroll the INX project if I need to."

"OPM?" I have no idea what he's talking about.

"Other people's money," he says with a grin. "Definitely the preferred way to go. But I have assets I can liquidate and add to what I've already invested in INX if it comes to that. Not the most astute financial decision, but it's doable. With plenty still there for you."

I nod with relief and understanding.

Or, I think with a frown, mostly understanding. "I understand the OPM thing," I tell him. "I've watched enough financial news and hung around the Stark house enough to know that diversification is good. But I also remember overhearing Damien talking about the INX-20. How he thinks it's going to change the industry. And how he wanted to invest, but you asked him not to."

"True."

"But why?"

Ash doesn't turn to look at me. "If I can't find another investor, I'm the one who'll fill that gap. Not Damien."

"Again, why? You just said that would make your position too large. That it wasn't the most financially sound decision."

"I'm willing to invest in myself if I need to."

I know I should let the subject drop, but I just don't get it. "But you don't need to. Damien would happily invest. He's already told you he wants to. And the man's a tech genius. If he says he wants to invest, it's because he means it. Because of the INX, not because of you."

For a moment, we just drive, his body stiff behind the wheel when every other time I've been in a car with him, he's been relaxed, as if the car is just an extension of himself.

"You know what," I say, "never mind. It's not my business, anyway."

"Bree…"

I shift a bit so I'm looking at him more directly. "I'm not being bitchy. I mean it. It's not my business."

"I'm not upset. "It's just that I've made my decision, and Damien understands it." His words are firm, and it's clear he's done with the subject.

"Right," I say. "Taking that off the table."

His shoulders drop a bit. "This project is important to me. Doing it on my own is important to me. And if Damien were to get involved, the media would jump all over that. It would become a Stark project, and while I love my father, the INX is my baby. Can you understand that?"

"Sure," I say, because I do get it. But at the same time, he's leveraging his personal assets to both fill the INX gap and to help me. I know he says he can afford it, but I also know that we're talking huge amounts of money. And if Ash's financial position flips, then that means that I'll be the girl who bankrupted Ashton Stone.

I'm not sure I could handle that.

I'm also sure that I won't survive if those videos get out, especially the one with Anne. So, I'm going to drop the subject and let Ash help me. Not just because I need the three million that he's offering, but also because I know that at this point there's no way he'd back out of helping me.

I just wish he'd let someone like Damien step in to help him.