Venom And Vice

7

“f**k you, Casek,” she yelled, chest heaving rapidly. Twice in one morning. That was impressive, even for me. At least this time, I felt zero emotional response to the angry woman before me. That was my protocol. That was how it should have been with Ashley, but my reaction to her was visceral. Whether she was simply walking past me or confronting me in a crowded nightclub, her effect on me was absolute and unwavering. If I was going to free myself from her toxic grasp, I would have to come up with a better plan than Brianna. I pushed the glass shards and flower stems aside with my foot, opened the door, and walked away. I wasn’t two blocks down the road when my phone sounded with an alert. Someone had triggered our wards at the Huntsman. I wasn’t worried about my brothers—they could handle themselves— and Rebecca was away with Lochlan. There was only one vulnerable person in the building, though I doubted she’d ever label herself as such. Foot slamming on the gas, I raced back home in record time. OceanofPDF.com Chapter Three OceanofPDF.com ASHLEY It was a good thing for Casek that I’d forgotten about the knife I was carrying in my purse, or I might have gone for one of his eyes. He would have stopped me, but I’d have given him a good fight. What the hell was his problem? Was he truly a grade A caliber asshole, or was he that freaking terrified of people getting close to him? One-hundred-percent asshole. Even if he had a reason behind his comments, he still chose to say them. He chose to be plain mean, and that’s assholery. His possible excuses were irrelevant. I slammed the door to my apartment when I returned home, dropping my purse at the door and pacing to the windows and back like a caged tiger. I was so freaking triggered, but at least it was better than drowning helplessly in worry. Casek had successfully distracted me from stressing about Rebecca. Look at me, appreciating the silver lining. I turned back for the windows, ready to delve into another mental tirade about Casek when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. Too irritated to pay attention, I answered before I got a look at the screen, committing myself to a call I didn’t want to take. It was the very last person I wanted to hear from. He was the reason I was so untrusting—the first person to teach me about the failings of men. “Hey, Ash. How’s everything in Belfast?” My father’s voice was full of earnest curiosity, despite my clipped greeting. The sound only made me angrier. Matthew Moore had ruined his chance at a relationship with me years ago when he chose alcohol and emotional abuse over his responsibilities as a husband and father. Granted, he’d recovered, but it didn’t change things in my eyes. He’d been trying for five years now to worm his way back into my good graces, but it was too little too late. I refused to pretend the past never happened. Civility was the best he’d get from me. “Everything here is great. How’s Mom?” I should have called her more often than I did, but our relationship wasn’t great either. Not after she took Dad back when he was a year out of rehab. It had taken her years to finally separate from him, and I couldn’t fathom how she’d so quickly fall back into his clutches. I’d been furious. While she was busy playing house, I was still haunted by memories of nights spent crying myself to sleep after witnessing Dad berate her in drunken fits. You spreading your legs for John next door? Don’t fuckin’ lie to me! I saw the way you looked at him. I knew you were dumb, but I never took you for a slut. Should have fuckin’ known better. Fuckin’ w*********h. I could never support their reconciliation. It didn’t matter how many AA coins he received or meetings he attended—as far as I was concerned, she was better off without him. “She’s doing really well. They’ve asked her to continue teaching the watercolor class at the community college through the summer. She’s absolutely thrilled.” “That’s great news.” I was honestly happy for her. Mom had only ever taught recreational painting classes, but when an opening became available at the college to fill in for a professor on maternity leave, Mom went out on a limb and applied. It had been a big step out of her comfort zone, and I was incredibly proud. The fact that she’d been chosen was gravy. “Yeah, the woman who had the baby decided to put teaching on hold for a bit longer. From what your mother says, she may take a sabbatical for a few years.” “That’s awesome. Sounds like a win for everyone involved.” “It really is.” His voice trailed off. “Listen, Ash. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I’d like to come visit you. Mom can’t get away, but I’d like to see you. Spend some time together.” I couldn’t think of anything I wanted less. Maybe a palm full of fiberglass splinters? Or perhaps a root canal? “I don’t know, Dad. I’ve been really busy here adjusting to remote work and meeting new people. I’d hate for you to come all this way just to be on your own.” The phone was silent for several seconds, leaving room for a tiny sliver of niggling guilt to wedge its way into the back of my mind. “I understand,” he finally replied. “It’s just that ever since we got that mistaken call back in December from the hospital, it’s bothered me more than ever that I damaged our relationship so badly. Life can be cut tragically short at any time, and I’d hate to think I didn’t do everything I could to show you how sorry I am.”