Down to Ash (#Dirtysexygeeks Book 2) (20 page)

Her pussy clenched tightly, and she stiffened above him. He was muttering again and groaning. She came apart, melting into him as the orgasm took her under. He kept pounding into her for another minute until he reached the same euphoria.

By then, she was drifting. Without having to look, she knew he hadn't left any marks, but he was tattooed into her bones.

She was still drifting as he kissed her neck. Content to be wrapped in his arms, she fell asleep.

****

Ash woke, chilled. Vic wasn't in the bed. He always was when they’d spent the night together.

“Shit.”

She'd fallen asleep before him and should have known better. Vic had been on edge for weeks—hadn't been sleeping as well as he could have been. Those two actions were all signs. She hadn't left because of them, but she had hoped...

Sighing, she picked up his shirt from the floor, slipped into it, and followed the sound of muted gunfire, likely from the TV.

For a second, relief rushed in at seeing him, but something wasn't right. He stood in the living room, staring off to his left, stock-still and breathing way too hard.

Confusion took hold. Why the hell was he just standing there?

Then her heart stopped. He was trapped in a memory. She cursed. Any hope she’d had left flitted away. This was why she'd meant to coax him to sleep first. Even that wasn’t a guarantee he wouldn't wake up drenched in sweat from a dream. He had done that many of the nights they'd spent together. But at least he'd gotten some sleep.

She knew what to do, but to watch him caught in the clutches of an episode almost broke her. Her knees trembled. She kept breathing in and out, out and in. Freaking out wouldn't help him. She had to be his anchor.

Calm.

Ash leaned against the wall for some kind of support as his face crumbled into a mask of pain. She had to bring him back to her.

“Vic, baby?”

His gaze snapped to hers, his eyes glassy and unseeing. That was good. He could hear her over the roar likely going on in his head. “Vic, come here. It's okay. You're okay. You're home.”

He shook his head slowly like he was trying to come to terms with the past and his current reality. She couldn't know what it was like. Couldn't cure him of this either, but she could be calm, his safe haven.

“Vic, baby, come here. You're safe with me. I'm safe.” She pushed off the wall, each step cautious because anything could thrust him deeper.

“Ash?” Confusion rippled over his features, his eyes so damn dark. “What are you doing here?”

Her heart thumped wild and hard. She was so scared for him, trembling with it. How in the hell did he cope with this by himself? She didn't doubt he could be dangerous, but he didn't talk about the terror he must have felt.

“You're in your living room.”

He glanced down at the remote in his hand, blinking rapidly. “Shit.
Shit
.”

Victor scuttled back, putting more space between them until his back hit the opposite wall. With his free hand, he tugged a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end in messy waves.

“How long was I gone?” He sounded scared. Angry.

Her chest constricted. “Vic, you're okay, and I'm okay.”

He crouched against the wall and braced his elbows on his knees, sucking in air. Her heart refused to slow. Never in all the time she'd known Victor had she seen him this shaken. Sweat dripped from his brow and every muscle seemed coiled. She stood still, not wanting to spook him even more as he leveled off from the spurt of adrenaline.

They just stood there breathing for a few minutes. Finally, he mumbled something—words she couldn't hear.

“What did you say?” She crossed the room to him but fisted her hands to keep from touching him. His limbs trembled. He still was crashing after a flashback and her touch might send him back over.

“Get out.” His voice was a gritty rasp. He dropped the remote to the floor and balled his hands. “Get the fuck out of here.”

Two feet of space separated them but suddenly, he felt miles away. He didn't want her around when he had a PTSD episode, that she knew. The words still hurt to hear.

“I'm not leaving you like this.”

He glanced up, his face a mask of hard, jagged lines. “I'm not asking. I'm not offering an escape. I don't want you here.”

“I'll call Oliver or Grady to come over if you need them, but Vic, I'm here.”

His jaw worked as he shook his head. “I don't want you anywhere near me anymore.”

Her heart threatened to break in a hundred little pieces. He meant those words. She knew where they were coming from—fear that he'd hurt her. He wanted to protect her from himself. Knowing his reasons didn't make the sting any less painful—didn't negate the fact that underneath it all, he didn't believe she could take care of both herself and him when he needed that.

She put steel in her words when she said, “If you held a gun and couldn't decipher the difference between your living room and Iraq, I would have barricaded myself in the bathroom. If I had woken up with your hands around my throat, I would have kicked you so hard in your balls you would have puked. Victor—”

“Get. Out. You apparently don't know when to leave when a man asks you to, but I guess you wouldn't. Isn't this your first real relationship? Don't you just usually fuck 'em and leave 'em?” His throat bobbed when he swallowed. “I don't want you here. It's that simple.”

The words left spikes in her lungs. They dug in with every inhalation. Still, she dragged in air and exhaled. He wasn't wrong, but he damn sure wasn't right. She had been in relationships that had, more often than not, ended abruptly, but she'd loved. She knew that emotion and how scary the feeling was. Sometimes it had made her lash out.

So she knew that was what Vic had chosen to do. “You don't have to do this.”

“Apparently I do.” His words were so cold they froze her blood.

“You,” the word wavered so she tried again, calmer, calm as fuck, “of all people, don't get to throw that at me.”

“What?”

“My past.”

“Tell me one time when you didn't treat me like I wasn't one your fuck boys. Was it when your brother asked you if you loved me and you didn't even answer? All the times you told me it was just sex between us?”

Ash pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling the hit deep in her gut. Maybe if her brother hadn't broken her heart first, Ash would have been her usual stubborn self. She would have stayed to fight it out. She would have dug deeper into why he felt the need to kick her out in the middle of the night. She would have pointed out that their first real episode together had scared him more than he'd expected. She would have detailed every moment that proved he was so much more than a man she had sex with. She would have told him how much she wanted to stay with him.

But Vic's voice was arctic. He hadn't told her out loud he loved her. She'd assumed he did by his actions, but his words were cutting into the soft spots her brother had left behind.

She shook her head, tired—so damn tired of having to fight the men in her life. Of having to remind them that she could slay her own dragons.

“You guys taught me to be strong, how to ask for what I want without shame. How to throw a punch or the surefire way to unman any boy who didn't take no for an answer—a hard, swift kick to his nuts. You guys taught me to be unapologetic. Yet you keep pushing me into a pretty gilded cage for my own safety.”

“Ash, just go.” His voice cracked.

How could he not see what he was doing? Why couldn't he just trust her?

Ash bit her lip to hold back its tremble. “If you want me to go, I'll go. But if this is your way of protecting me, then when I leave, I'm never coming back. You and Porter have hurt me enough to last a lifetime. You guys taught me to never take that bullshit. And I'm not.”

He straightened, pressing his back against the wall. Vic's face showed no give. “I want you to leave.”

Had she been wrong? Was she reading more into his actions? Did Ash hope he loved her and this was his way of protecting her? Or was she encroaching on his space and didn't know when she'd worn out her welcome?

Her heart ached, seeming to know the truth but her head held her pride. She'd only beg for more in bed. She'd never plead outside it.

“Then fine. I'm leaving, Vic.”

She didn't wait to see his reaction. Ash stalked to his room, got dressed, and grabbed her overnight supplies.

He wanted her out of his life for whatever reasons. She wasn't going to hurt herself trying to figure them all out, or contort herself into knots to bring the truth to the light. He wanted her gone.

That was the end of it, of them
.
Fine. Maybe when she got home, she'd cry her soul out.

Okay. No maybe about it, especially when she told her friend. Iris would envelope her with warmth and love. Depending on how Ash talked about the experience, Victor would be a wounded saint or the devil incarnate. And if she wanted to sow seeds of dissent, she could talk to Eva. Eva would spill the tea with Grady. And Grady was solid. No matter how complicated the situation, right was right and wrong was wrong. But first, all Ash wanted to do was curl into her bed and wish the hurt away.

When she had all her things, she left his room.

He sat on the couch, his elbows braced on his knees once again. His gaze was wide and filled with pain as he glanced at her and then he looked back to the TV. He was pushing her away to save her. Or what he thought would be saving her.

Telling him his plan was a misguided and incredibly stupid way of protecting her would fall on death ears. So she left, and she felt like she'd left a piece of herself with him.

~Gamer Truth: Sometimes you need to get your teeth kicked in by a big, bad boss.~

Victor glanced up at the soft knock on his office door. His brows rose. “Wade? What are you doing here?”

His friend wore his glasses, a simple white collared shirt, khakis, and tennis shoes. Maybe for the first time in a long time, he looked like a scientist. He'd even tamed back his sandy brown hair. “Isn't this what Porter does? Check in unexpectedly to make sure you're not dancing in traffic in your underwear?”

If his friend had ever had any sensitivity training, it hadn't stuck. To be honest, though, they had probably both failed that class.

Victor put a hand to his chest and sighed. “I'm touched.”

Wade spread his hands. “I love you, man. Also, you look like shit.”

Victor felt like it, too. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Haven't slept in two days.” Not since he'd told Ash to leave. He'd broken her heart and it had showed on her every feature, and that expression played like a loop in his head. Maybe for the first time since he'd come back home, he wished for his shitty nightmares. Those were a walk in a park in comparison.

“Ashley,” Wade guessed without too much trouble. “I wondered when you were going to fuck that up. Didn't take you long.”

He flinched at the hit of truth. Vic hated that he'd hurt her, but he could have done so much worse. “I had an episode,” he explained. “She was there.”

Wade strolled around the borrowed office and didn't say anything. Didn't have to. Victor pulled his attention back to work, his shoulders creeping up from the sudden note of tension in the room.

“You should marry her.”

And that abrupt advice was the end of work.

Victor glanced up and sat back in the chair. He pushed out a breath, and then managed to say, “Did you not just hear me? Do you want her hurt?”

“Buy her a tranq gun. Teach her how to use it. I don't think she'll have any problems shooting you with it. Ashley is...” Wade sighed and plopped into the chair across from him. “Take away her love of pink, the heels, and the boobs, and what you have left is a tomboy. We didn't let her flutter around unarmed.”

He didn't have an argument for that, because Wade was right. Still, he shook his head. “Even the most armed—”

“You're a chickenshit.” The similar phrase easily proved that Grady and Wade were brothers. “Just admit it. What was it? She didn't say I love you first? Or did you realize she was the woman you wanted to marry? Or did you forget to wear a condom once and you started thinking of little her-and-yous running around, tearing up the world? And that scared you. You spineless piece of shit. You hurt Ashley, and for what?” Wade slammed his hands on the desk, his eyes dark with anger.

Victor had to look away from the truth and anger his friend threw at him. “You can see I'm fine. You should go.”

Wade made an all-knowing scoff. “Is that what you did? Just shut her out?”

Victor balled his fists against the desk. “What's really pissing you off, Wade? Is it because she chose me?”

Wade nodded and crossed his arms. The words hit their mark. “I'm pissed you found someone who is willing to put up with your bullshit and you pushed her away. And Ashley is the best woman who could have ever loved you—who will ever love you like that. I don't know what your problem is, but get your head out of your ass soon or you’ll lose her forever.”

Anger slashed through Victor at the words, but his friend was right. Every single fucking word was spot on. “Or you'll do what? Be there in my place instead?”

“If she would take me,” Wade said without flinching, “but she won't. It's you, Vic. It's always been you.”

Victor wasn't sure if that was said to bait him into a fight or if it were true. He narrowed his eyes, but Wade showed no sign of backing down. Hell, Wade probably did love Ashley. She was the only person he was nice to.

“Don't,” is all Victor said.

He felt bad enough as was, drained from self-doubt. Had he done the right thing by pushing her away? Could they make it work? Too much seemed to rely on whether or not he was willing to test her strength.

Logically, he knew she could be his backbone when he couldn't stand straight. Hadn't she shown that all her life? She'd joked about having four brothers—Vic had never been one, not even in a figurative sense—who sometimes were overzealous, but it was truth. She’d also carved out a life despite their meddling. She'd walked away from him when he’d thrown her past in her face and refused to acknowledge her mettle. She’d shown all the backbone he could ever need.