Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
“Yes, but please don’t say anything or be mad at her. I asked her to please not tell you. I know that was wrong, but like I said, I really wanted to do this on my own.”
He blows out a breath, his unease with all of this becoming very clear.
“I’m sorry, Ash. I’m being totally honest with you now because it’s been bothering me. I made a mistake keeping all this from you. At the time, it didn’t seem wrong, but now I realize it was.”
He squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you’re telling me. Is there anything else?”
“Redwood drove me to the appointments and then back home. There were two appointments. Sarah knew he was driving me.”
“Wait—he’s been to our house?”
“Not inside,” I say quickly. “Just in the driveway.”
He rubs his hand across his face, tugging on his beard. “I’m not liking this, Em. There’s a lot you don’t know about him. Has he been contacting you?”
“He sent me a few text messages, and we did one video chat a few weeks ago. He was just checking up on me. He told me before that, that he’d never contact me, and if I wanted to talk to him, I’d have to call or text him. But he did video chat me for a few minutes on his own. I haven’t talked to him since.”
“Was he acting weird?”
I shrug casually. “He’s always kinda weird. He’s an eccentric guy.”
“Was he scaring you? Threatening you in any way?”
“No.” I frown at him. “Nothing like that at all. Why would he? He saved my life. He’s a friend. Sort of.” I suppose I could consider Redwood a friend of sorts. He was there for me when I needed someone, and that means a lot. “He also sent me a customized meal plan and workouts I can do from home. To help me gain weight and curves like I wanted. It worked too.”
Asher stares at me like I’m speaking another language. “Redwood sent you fitness advice?” he asks incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. Apparently he’s some kind of personal trainer. He knows a lot about fitness.”
“I don’t fuckin’ believe this,” he mumbles with a half laugh.
“Why are you acting so weird about it? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you—”
“That’s not it, Em. You don’t need my permission to talk to people. You’re an adult. You can talk to whoever you want. It’s him that’s the problem.”
“He saved my life, though.”
He softens his gaze and gives me a sort-of ironic smile. “I know he did, baby. And I’m very grateful that he did that. But I really want you to stay away from him, okay?”
Unease creeps up my spine. “But why?”
“He’s a psychopath. I’d rather not get into the details.”
I roll my eyes, assuming he’s just being overly dramatic. “Asher, come on. I admit he’s a little strange, but I think it’s because of his brain injury. He’s harmless.”
“Trust me. He’s anything but harmless. Do you know he put a pistol in his mouth and tried to blow his own head off?”
I shift uneasily on the bed, not wanting that grisly image in my head. “Yes, I heard he did that. But he must’ve been very depressed to do that…”
He shakes his head. “No. He wasn’t depressed.”
Why on earth would someone try to kill themselves unless they are deeply depressed? Nothing else would make any sense at all.
Asher takes both my hands in his and forces me to look at him. “Ember, please, just trust me on this, okay? I’ve been talking to Redwood for years—ever since the day of your accident. He’s not a good person. In fact, he’s dangerous. He never should’ve gotten involved with you, and he knows it. I think it’s some kind of twisted game to him. Promise me you’ll stay away from him. And tell me if he tries to get in contact with you.”
Asher’s hands are literally clammy and shaking in mine, and it’s got me terrified. For him to react this way about someone, it has to be serious. He’s not the type to be afraid of other men.
“Okay.” I nod earnestly. “I promise. But if he’s that bad, why have you been talking to him?”
“I tried to show him how grateful I was for what he did. I offered him anything he wanted. All he wanted in return was for me to listen to him talk.”
Talk? What kind of odd request is that?
“Why? Talk about what?”
“Don’t ask. Let’s just drop this, okay? I don’t want to talk about him in our bed, in our house. Ever.” He strokes my cheek softly. “You’re an angel. You’re so beautiful and sweet. I don’t ever want anyone, or anything, to hurt you.” The emotion in his voice reaches deep into me and makes my heart swell. Whatever he’s thinking, whatever it is he’s worried about, it’s real.