CHAPTER 13: BEHIND HIS WALLS
1498 Words
The engine came alive with a sharp growl.
Asher’s hands slammed against the steering wheel once, hard, like he was angry at the sound of starting it. He didn't swear. Didn't say a word.
He just breathed out through his nose,jaw tight.
I buckled my seatbelt without thinking as my fingers were shaking, and I hated the fact that he could probably see it.
That was when it hit me.
I hadn't asked where we were going.
Or why.
Or how long we'd be gone.
“Stassie! Omg I should probably tell her.” I whispered, hitting my palm against my forehead.
I checked my bag for my phone, just to find it was dead. Dang it. really?
I stared at my hands in my lap, trying to figure out when exactly I'd decided to trust him enough to leave everything behind for the night. or longer.
Asher pulled out onto the road.
The city lights thinned quickly. Streetlamps gave way to long stretches of darkness, broken only by passing headlights. Trees started to line the road, tall and dense. Their branches arching over us like a tunnel.
“You're quiet,” he said after a while.
“So are you.”
“Fair.” He stepped on the accelerator, and the car picked up speed.
“So down!” I said, holding my seatbelt tight, as my heart began racing.
Silence settled again. The kind that presses against your chest. The kind that made your thoughts spiral.
“Are you going to tell me where we're going?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“When we get there.”
I turned to look at him. “That's not comforting.”
He glanced at me briefly, then back to the road. “I know. But it's the truth.”
I hugged my arm around myself. The car was warm but I felt exposed. Like every mile we drove, stripped something away.
The road narrowed, The road smoothed out , darker. A private road.
Trees closed tighter now. Old ones. Thick trunks. No houses. No signs. Just forest and the low hum of the engine.
My stomach flipped.
“Asher.”
“We're almost there.”
That didn't help.
Then the trees broke.
A massive black iron gate rose out of the darkness, stretching wide on either side. Cameras glinted faintly from above. The car came to a halt.
“Open, It's Asher.”
The gates opened on their own, like it was on voice recognition mode.
His hands tightened on the wheels. “Don't freak out.”
“I'm already past that.”
The car rolled forward, followed by the gate closing behind us with a deep clang that echoed through the trees.
The driveway curved, long and winding, lit by soft ground lights.
On both sides, gardens stretched into the dark– lilies, roses, sunflowers arranged neatly but still alive, like they hadn't been touched in days.
A wide fountain sat at the center, water moving in slowly, with steady arcs.
Then the mansion appeared slowly, first the outline, then the windows, and the sheer size of it.
It wasn't flashy, it was worse.
Quiet. Controlled. Old money calm.
My jaw dropped. “Asher…”
“I know,” he said. “Just… wait.”
The car pulled to a stop at the front.
The doors opened before he even cut the engine.
Five men stepped forward. I guess they may be his staff, all dressed in sharp black suits, with shiny black shoes.
“Welcome back sir,” one of them said.
Back??
Asher stepped out and came around to my side before I could move. He opened my door, and held out his hand.
I hesitated.
His voice softened. “I've got you.”
Something in his eyes made my chest ache. I took his hand.
The moment my feet touched the ground, the weight of the place hit me. The silence, the scale. The way everything felt watched but respectful at the same time.
A woman approached, older, composed. “Your room is ready.”
My room???
Asher nodded. “Thank you.”
He didn't let go of my hand. Instead, he slipped his hand around my waist, and lifted me without warning.
I gasped. “Asher!”
He held me easily like I weighed nothing. “Don't argue, just let me.”
I could feel how heavy each beat of my heart was. My arms immediately went around his neck.
The staff didn't react. Didn't stare. Didn't speak. Like this was normal.
That should have felt strange. It didn’t.
He carried me up the curved staircase, past long hallways — with pictures, and awards hung almost everywhere, which I didn't pay attention to, past closed doors. The tension in his body was obvious. Every step was controlled. Protective.
He kicked his bedroom door open gently with his foot and stepped inside.
The room was massive. Floor to ceiling windows. Heavy curtains. A bed that looked too perfect to touch.
He sat me down carefully, his hands lingering at my waist a second longer.
The door behind us shut with a soft click.
We were alone.
Finally,
Asher stepped back like he needed space to breathe. He ran his hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping.
“I know this looks… insane,” he said.
“ That’s one word for it .”
He smirked. “You're handling it better than I expected.”
“I'm in shock,” I said. “Give me one minute.”
He nodded. “Fair.”
I turned slowly, eyes darting through the room. “So this is where you disappear to?”
“This is one of the places.”
I faced him. “One off?”
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pull the thread.”
I crossed my arms. “You brought me here.”
“I brought you somewhere safe.”
“And expensive.” I cut in.
“Does it matter?”
“It matters if you're hiding behind it.”
“I'm not hiding.”
“Yes you are,” I said softly. “You hide behind silence. Behind warnings. Behind money… apparently.”
“You think this makes things easier for me?” he asked.
“I think it explains why everyone acts like you're dangerous.”
His jaw clenched. “I never wanted this to be part of you.”
“You don't get to decide that anymore. I'm in and I'm in for good.”
The air between us shifted. Tensed. Charged.
He stepped closer. Close enough that I could feel his warmth, close enough that his restraint was almost visible.
“Look at me,” he said.
I did.
The mask was cracked. Not gone but cracked. The fear was there again. And something else, something raw.
“I don't want you to see me as weak,” he said quietly.
My throat tightened. “Is that what this is?”
“Yes.”
“Weakness doesn't scare me,” I said. “Secrets do.”
His hand came up, hovering near my face like he wasn't sure he deserved to touch me.
“I don't talk about the past,” he said. “Because when I do, it pulls me apart.”
I swallowed. “You don't have to tonight.”
For a second, relief flickered in his eyes.
He leaned his forehead against mine, breathing in me. His hand slipped to my hips, firm but careful. Like he was grounding himself through me.
“Can I? “ he asked.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
He turned me back, his thumb brushing my bare skin at my shoulder, almost like he was slowly heading towards the strap of my top.
My breath stuttered.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered behind my ear.
I didn't.
His lips hovered around my neck. “I don't trust myself around you.”
“Then why bring me here?”
“Because I trust you.”
That undid me more than any touch.
I tilted my head slightly. An invitation.
He kissed my neck. Slow. Controlled. Like he didn’t trust what would happen if he let go.
He turned to face me, and my fingers curled into his shirt.
The kiss deepened. Just a little. Then he pulled back abruptly, breathing hard. “If we keep going we won't be able to stop.”
“I didn't ask you to.”
He kissed my forehead gently. “I'm trying to be better.”
I nodded, leaning closely to him. “Then stay.”
“Okay,lala,” he said.
He pulled his shoes, and bent to unlace mine. Lifted me and took me to the bed.
He held me. Just held me. Like he was going to do something unforgiving sooner or later.
And for the first time since we met, he felt at peace.
- Writer
