Down to Ash (#Dirtysexygeeks Book 2) (14 page)

Vic swallowed then pulled out his cellphone to text his friend.

Can you meet me at my house after work?

Sure, man. U OK?

And that was the thing. He was fine, for the most part, but anything could trigger him. Coming clean to his friend was so much more than relieving a guilty conscience. So he answered honestly,
No
.

No reply came back and that was fine. He needed time just to figure out what to say to his best friend. What to say to Ash. He had until the end of the workday before she left for home. It wasn't nearly enough time.

*****

Ash stepped out of work at exactly 5:00 p.m. just like the day before. Unlike the day before, when she caught sight of her brother lounging against her car's bumper, her stomach threatened to climb out of her throat. Thank God her job ran the air at below-freezing temps most afternoons. She'd kept a light cardigan around when the cold became too much. After Iris's reaction, she'd thrown it on.

When she was an arm's-length from him, Ash slowed. Had Vic already told him? “What's wrong, Porter?”

His gaze was flat and worry lines crinkled his forehead. “Hey, baby sis.”

Her heart skittered and relief settled in. He didn't know yet. Good. Or least that meant Vic planned to talk to her first like he had said. “Ah, so you're here for your bromance.”

He ruffled her hair, just to annoy her as always. “You're cute when you're smart.”

She glared at him since he’d had to add insult to injury. “One of these days, I'm taking out your shins.”

“Short people,” he said in an almost bored tone. “Bless their vertically challenged little hearts.”

Ash would have laughed but the furrow was still there above his brows. “But, seriously, what's wrong?” She lifted her hand to fix her hair.

Porter's gaze sharpened and he grabbed her wrist. With a hard jerk, he pushed down the sleeve, revealing the light bruises.

“Who did this?” his voice barely rose above a whisper.

Fear slicked down her spine leaving a cold chill. He hadn't known and this was not how he should find out. “Porter, calm down.”

“Give me a name now.” Each word came out in a staccato beat.

“Porter,” she said slowly in hopes that could get through his thick skull.

Nope. He tugged at the other sleeve. His jaw worked, tightening, and a vein in his neck threatened to pop. “Who did this?”

She wasn't going to give up a name. Things between her and Vic were complicated. She had no clue where they were headed, but after the episode in her office, they definitely weren't done. They weren't just scratching each other's itches, but they weren't soul mates either. At least, as far as they knew. So how in the hell could they tell anyone else before they could talk about it with each other?

Jerking her hands away, she met his gaze. “I got them from rough sex. Happy?”

A softer emotion flickered in the sea of anger in his eyes. “Don't lie to me. Don't talk about sex just because you think I won't ask more questions.” He grabbed her hand again and inspected the bruises. “These look like fingers. No one does that. No one sane.”

The hairs at her nape tingled. Ash closed her eyes, her sigh sounded defeated. She could have talked her brother off his ledge of testosterone. But Vic, she never could. She glanced behind her and spotted Vic leaving the building. Yup. Dammit.

She faced her brother again only to have her stomach bottom out. Porter’s expression was caught somewhere between anger and shock as he looked at Vic. His eyes, God, she could see when the dots started to connect. How or why, Ash didn't know, but Porter wasn't stupid. He hadn't given Vic his trust blindly. Vic had earned it. Yet whatever evidence that lined up in his head was irrefutable.

He flexed his fingers against her wrists and finally looked down at her again. “Ash, tell me who did this.” His chest worked up and down, too fast, as though he couldn't suck in enough air.

She stepped into him. “Please, Porter. Let it go. I'm fine.”

His gaze was hot, angry. “Just say his fucking name.”

But he wasn't looking at her anymore. She could feel the heat of Victor at her back. So still. If she hadn't caught his scent, she wouldn't have known just how close he stood.

Her brother dropped her hand and pushed her aside to step into Vic's face. “Is this what you needed to tell me?”

Victor took in the damage he'd left on her forearms. Given the way he swallowed, she could only guess the bruises left him feeling sick to his stomach. The guilt clear on his face was answer enough for her brother.

Porter grabbed Vic, twisted him around and slammed him into the back of her car hard enough that the frame rocked from the force.

The shock of such quick violence rooted her to the asphalt, stealing her breath in a short, sharp huff.

Porter pressed his forearm to Vic's throat. “What the fuck is your problem?” The words leaked out in a strangled whisper, so much scarier than a yell. “You know better
.
”

Those three words seemed to echo as the two men exchanged a silent conversation while they stared each other down.

That finally freed her limbs from their frozen position.

She pushed at her brother, which was probably the most useless thing she could have done. Pushing a mountain would have been easier.

“Porter, God, please stop. I'm fine.” If only she could get her voice to stop wavering.

Victor held up his hands in surrender. “I'm not going to fight. Whatever you dish out, I deserve, but you needed to know.”

Porter balled his fist. He was going to hit him, hurt his friend. Her brain wasn't working right. The only thing she knew to do was stop him in any way. She wedged herself between two men, her back to Vic's front. And her eyes met clashed with her brother's. Porter's jaw clenched, but stepped back and dropped his hand.

“When?” Porter spit out, the question directed at her.

“Would it matter?” she answered, as calm as she could be, but her heart was racing.

He inhaled, hard, through his nostrils. “How many months did he...”

She winced because the details did matter. “Last Friday.”

Porter lunged forward again, and she blocked Vic with her body. Her brother's brows rose, but that stopped his forward motion enough for him to step back.

Again, a deep inhalation through his nose, then he locked his gaze on his friend. “Have you told her, Victor?”

Her brows rose. “Told me what?”

Porter scoffed, the derision so potent in that soft sound. “I swear to God, Victor, I'm going to end you.” He barked, “Move, Ashley.”

Just as stubborn as him, she got into Porter's face. “No. You need to leave. You've done enough damage today.”

“Ash—”

“Vic and I had—we were together,” she quickly corrected her initial statement. Now was not the time to throw more wood on the fire with descriptive words.

She put a hand to Porter's chest to push him back. Her hand, her whole body shook. “I know how that makes you feel. I was there, remember, all those months after we found out about Dad. Saying that it sucked would be an understatement. Finding out the person you put your trust in lied to you… That they didn't take into account how you would feel...”

She stepped away from Vic and kept talking because she could see some of Porter's anger fading. Her brother loved her. She’d never once doubted it, but he never listened. Now he would. He had to.

“We didn't do this to hurt you. Please understand that much. I'm sorry, Porter.”

His lip curled. “You don't have a clue what he's capable of. Fine, I never wanted you with any of my friends, but of all people, Victor?”

The venom in just that last word chilled and confused her. “He's your best friend.”

Porter's laugh was bitter. “Yeah. I can see that.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I can't let you be with him.”

Let you
. When did a courtesy, extended out of love, morph into needing permission? Ash hadn't gotten a memo that said Porter could decide whom she could and could not sleep with. He didn't have a say in the matter. Hell, she didn't feel like
she
had a choice. Vic had finally touched her and that had been that.

She opened her mouth to set him straight, and then stopped, really looking at her brother.

Worry, anger and fear fought for real estate on his face. If there was one person who knew Victor better than anyone, it was her brother. And Porter was scared for her. A chill ran through her.

She asked, “Why shouldn't I be with him?”

Porter looked to Vic. “Tell her about your problem, all of it, or I'll know you're a fucking coward. I will never forgive you.” He gestured to her arms. “You know what? Never mind. This is all the evidence I need, and that you should need, Victor. Stay away from her, or I swear to God... Walk away now while I still have the mind to not beat you bloody.”

“Tell me what?” she demanded, her gaze flicking between the two of them.

Vic and Porter stared each other down as though she weren't even standing there.

Finally, Vic broke the eye contact, looking away from both of them. “Do you think we’d be having this conversation if I could stop with Ash? All I can do is tell her.”

Her brother shook his head as though to refute that truth. Eventually, he brought his stare down her. The emotion rocked her silent.

“Ashley, you're not safe with him. Yeah. I hate that you lied. I hate that you didn't even give a shit. I expected better from you, of all people.”

She gasped at that hit—it hurt.

He tugged at her wrist and pointed to the darkest bruise. “This is getting off easy.”

Her heart pounded at what that could mean. Even if Vic had saved her brother's life by giving him a kidney, Porter wouldn't be his friend if Vic abused women.

She said, “Stop beating around the bush and just say it, Porter.”

“He needs to tell you, because even though he shit on our friendship...” Porter looked at them both, his lip still curled with disgust. “It still means something to me.”

“If that's your position, then this is between Victor and me.” She balled her hands to hide the tremble. She was drawing a very hard line in the sand, and for what? Ash didn't even know how
she
felt about Vic. They hadn't burned through the lust between them. If and when that happened, then she'd know. Porter finding out now—

God, this was a mess.

Her brother scoffed, shaking his head. “You can be so selfish sometimes.”

“And you can be pigheaded. You don't get a say in our lives.”

“So you love him? He's it for you?”

Her chest constricted. “Will that somehow make you stop being a dick?”

He didn't even hesitate. “No.”

She'd known his answer. Nope. Knowing the answer then hearing it didn't hurt any less.

“Just go, Porter,” she said, tired.

His mouth thinned and he looked at Vic. “She's my sister, man. You need to tell her what she's getting into with you. You know what can happen if you're not...” Porter clamped his mouth shut.

“Okay, Porter,” Vic said behind her.

Her brother stuffed his hands in his pockets, shook his head one last time, and then turned to leave.

She didn't know how to fix this. It was too late to regret kissing Vic. Much too late to ignore the buzz of sexual attraction between them. The deed was done, and they'd hurt Porter, but apparently, that wasn't the end of it.

Ash had to keep her shit together until she knew everything. Calm. She had to remain calm.

She sucked in a steadying breath and faced Vic. “What do you need to tell me?”

Vic looked how she felt, like he'd been dragged through the wringer. And one more time wouldn't make a fucking difference. Her heart hurt, and Ash had no doubt, his did too. He'd just lost a friend.

“Not here,” his said, his voice flat. “My house or yours?”

“Mine.” At least that way if he told her something that upended her life, she'd already be at home.

You're selfish.

Those words came back to hit her square in the heart. She flinched again as though her brother was standing right there. The accusation wouldn't hurt so much if it wasn't true. Didn't help that Vic kept avoiding her gaze. She'd never felt more on the outside of the men around her. The men who claimed to care for her. Grady, Wade, and Oliver would soon know about their affair. This was just the tip of the iceberg.

And Victor still held on to a secret, one that made Porter scared for her. Victor's bleak expression almost crumbled her. Whatever he needed to tell her was bad.

Calm. Remain calm.

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “My house. From the expression on your face I'm going to need my doomsday whiskey.”

Of all days, he picked that one to crack a smile at one of her jokes. It didn't soften his features, but her stupid heart fluttered anyway.

“You might,” he agreed.

He didn't offer anything else before he walked away. Alone, all she could focus on was the Vic-sized dent in her car. Porter had done that.

No. That's what she'd done by being impulsive, damning the consequences, breaking the rules. And that had left Porter and Vic enemies. She’d ruined a friendship over lust. It was the worst kind of déjà vu, except her father was nowhere around. Just her.

“Shit,” she muttered, running her hands through her hair, tension climbing up her spine.

She was going to have to fix what she'd broken. All of it.

~Gamer Truth: There's always going to be someone who will beat your high score.

Bastards.~

By the time Vic stepped into Ash's apartment, she'd changed into a tank top and sweat pants that she'd cut into shorts. She'd poured whiskey into a tall glass, and was a fourth of a way through it.

“Come on in.” She turned and headed for the couch.

Closing the door behind him, he almost asked for a glass but...Fuck. He didn't even have words for the hollow ache eating at his gut.

He'd lost a friend today. A childhood, a life spent together. Shit, he and Porter had had a relationship longer than some marriages, packed with big and small moments—the first day of high school, the day he’d went off to the Army, the day he'd come back broken and unhinged. All fucking gone because he’d had to be with Ash.