Undeniably Asher (The Colloway Brothers Book 2) (37 page)

“Tell me what happened.”

“No.”

“I’m not leaving until you do.” He eyes my Bloody Mary and then snatches it from my hand before I have a chance to react.

“Prick,” I snip.

“Grow the fuck up. What happened?” Conn takes a seat in the loveseat across from me, resting an ankle on his opposite knee.

I stay silent, having no intention of divulging my stupidity over a woman once again to my twin. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, well…I don’t even know what to do with that. What I do know is there won’t be a third fucking time. I’m strictly a hit-it and quit-it guy from now on.

“Do you love her?” he asks.

“This isn’t about love.”

He nods. “I’ll take that as a yes. Where is she?”

“I don’t know. Probably still in the arms of that fucking photographer I caught her with a few hours ago.”

Conn’s unable to contain his reaction before masking it. “Cooper Jensen?”

“The one and only.”

“What were they doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“Naked?”

“No,” I reply, shaking my head. It was so much worse than that.

“There has to be an explanation,” he retorts. His optimism just pisses me the hell off sometimes.

“You always think there’s an explanation, Conn. I stood there quite a long fucking time staring at him holding my woman as they slept trying to figure out if my warped mind was playing tricks on me, but after about ten minutes it finally sank in that it wasn’t a goddamn hallucination and I left.”

“Without confronting them? Getting answers?”

“No, I didn’t confront them. They looked pretty fucking cozy. It’s simple, as it always is, brother. I was played. Again.”

He’s silent for a few minutes. Guess that shut him up.

“Did you ever cheat on Natalie?” he finally asks.

Or not.

“How are you turning this around on me?”

“Just answer the question. You ever cheat on her?”

“No.”

“She’s convinced you did. She says that’s the only reason she turned to this guy was because she thought you were sleeping with someone else and she wanted to hurt you like you’d hurt her.”

“I was one hundred percent faithful to her for the entire time we were together, even though she obviously didn’t deserve it. I never gave her any reason to think I was cheating. So I guess that’s on her then.”

“You’re missing the point.”

Sighing heavily, I play along even though that’s the last thing I want right now. I want to drink. I want to forget. I want to figure out how the hell I’m going to move one step ahead, let alone an entire lifetime without the woman who has herself buried so deep inside me I know I’ll never be free of her. “What
is
the point, Conn?”

“Assumption. The whole point is she
assumed
something that wasn’t true
was
. And she’s regretted it ever since. Don’t make the same mistake, Asher. Don’t
assume
you know what you saw. It could be entirely innocent. Talk to Alyse. She doesn’t seem like the cheating kind to me and I think you know that.”

He rises and hands back my cocktail before clasping me on the shoulder. “In our entire lives, I’ve never known you to quit on anything. For years, you even fought for that doomed relationship you had with Natalie. Don’t quit now. Fight like the tenacious bastard I know you are. You are meant to marry this woman, brother. I feel it. I see it every time I watch you two together. So swallow your goddamn pride and fight for her. Even if there is something going on with this guy, which I doubt, then fight for her anyway. If you fuck this up because you let your pride get in the way, you’ll live the rest of your life under nothing but a mountain of regret. And trust me, that’s no way to live.”

Then he leaves me alone with my hard liquor and a crushed heart to mull over his words.

Chapter 40

Alyse

My eyes shift from my computer screen to the clock on the wall once again. Five minutes past three. My door is open and I can hear the few people on this floor making their way to the elevator in anticipation of partying the night away. I suddenly wonder what I’ll be doing; the prospect of being by myself in a lonely apartment doesn’t sound appealing in the least.

I haven’t heard from Asher all day. I’ve texted him three times and called twice, but each call went to voice mail. Each text remained unanswered. I’m sure he’s knee-deep with this lawsuit, but I can’t help but worry. It’s not like him to not at least respond with a quick flirty or dirty message.

Out of my peripheral, I see someone standing in my doorway and my heart speeds up hoping it’s Asher, but as I spin around I see it’s Tara. “Alyse, I’m taking off. Did you need anything?”

“Uh, no. I’ll see you next week then, right? You’re taking Friday off?”

“Yep. Have a good holiday.” She winks.

“Say, have you heard from Asher today?”

“Yeah, about a couple hours ago. He said he’d be in later to get a few files.”

“Oh.” I try not to let my face fall, but apparently I fail, because she quickly responds. “He said he’s been really busy, so I wouldn’t worry about it if you’ve been trying to reach him.” Ever the good assistant…trying to cover up for her boss.

“Oh. No, I’m fine. I…just wanted to run a couple of things by him is all.” For being so proficient at lying, I’m failing miserably right now.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Yep,” I mumble, but she’s already gone.

I return to my report. Even with my mind elsewhere, it’s been a very productive week with Asher gone. I’m practically jumping up and down about telling him what I’ve found so far. Although I’m not done completely with the audit, I finally have enough documentation to at least suspend the suspect, pending further investigation. I’ve gone through all the charities and suppliers and found one charity and two suppliers that are not only suspicious, they’re just plain bogus. Well, the businesses are legit, the invoices aren’t.

The CFO, Edward Reigen, requested all three to be set up. Asher will be less than happy when I tell him the charity approval for Feed My Starving Children even has his signature. In the June board of directors meeting minutes, a hundred thousand-dollar donation was approved, which the new supplier notes indicate, but the money never made it to Feed My Starving Children. Instead, it made it to the bank account of Mr. Reigen. In fact, the invoices for the other suppliers also made it into Mr. Reigen’s bank account, which he just opened in February of this year.

No matter how small or large a company is, one thing is the same across them all. The grapevine. It’s surprising how much gossip people want to spread about the misery of others. Mr. Reigen, the CFO of CFC for over five years now, has apparently been going through a very nasty divorce and is being put through the ringer by his ex for outrageous child and alimony support. Amanda freely offered that little tidbit up at the coffee pot last week, so I was less than surprised this morning to find that he also owned the bank account that the false invoices were being paid to.

I feel his presence before I see him and lift my head just as he walks through my door. He looks troubled, angry, and something else that I can’t quite place. The anticipation that I’d had at seeing him quickly changes to unease.

“Hi,” I say. “I was worried about you. I haven’t heard from you all day.”

Without a word, he shuts the door and sits down across from me.

“What’s wrong?”

He starts talking. Slow, deliberate. “I’m going to ask you this one time only, Alyse, and I expect the truth, no matter how painful it may be to say it.”

My brows furrow, not liking his insinuation at all. “Ask me what? Asher, what’s going on?”

“Are you having an affair with that fucking photographer?”

“What?” I half snort, half laugh. “Who? Cooper? That’s ridiculous. Of course not.”

“Wrong answer,” he says. Rising he starts walking to the door but I jump up and rush over, standing in front of it before he can make it all the way there. He stops right in front of me. His presence is imposing. I’ve never seen him like this and I have to admit I’m a little scared.

“What the hell is going here?” I demand, arms crossed.

“I think that’s my question.”

“I don’t hear from you all day and then you walk in here accusing me of having some imaginary affair with a friend? What the hell, Asher? You really have a problem, you know that?”

From this close distance, I smell the alcohol wafting off him like he’s been dunked in a vat and soaked for a few hours. It’s steaming from his pores with such potency, I can almost see it rising like hot vapor on blacktop.

“You’re drunk,” I accuse.

“Not nearly enough.”

“Did you drive?”

“I’m not that stupid, Alyse.”

“Asher,” I lay my hand on his waist and he flinches so I remove it, trying not to let it hurt as much as it does. “Please. Tell me what’s going on here.”

“I saw you.” His voice cracks. I can tell he’s one rung away from falling into an inky black void where I won’t be able to reach him.

“You saw me what? You aren’t making any sense. Please, let’s talk when you’re sober.”

I start to move away, to let him leave when he slams his body into mine. My back hits the door hard and then his mouth is on mine. It’s rough and bruising and not in a mutually I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off way, but in an I’m-so-fucking-pissed-off-at-you-I’m-going-to-make-you-bleed way.

This is not Asher. Asher is not physical or violent. He’s demanding and sometimes rough, but he’s never done anything that I didn’t like or want. I try to push him back, but he doesn’t give an inch, taking, taking, until I’m scared he’s going to take something he’ll later regret when the alcohol haze wears off. He finally breaks his mouth from mine, and bites his way down my neck, asking me “why” in between hard, painful nips. It hurts…and it’s meant to.

“Asher, stop. Please, stop. Please,” I beg over and over, my voice shaking more with each escalating plea. It must finally get through, because he does. Leaning his head against the maple wood, his chest heaves and he pulls me to him, squeezing so hard, I almost can’t breathe.

His shoulders begin to shake and I realize he’s crying. It breaks my heart in pieces to think something has brought this strong man to such a place of despair. His pain is so unbearable it physically hurts me. I stroke his hair with one hand, holding him close with the other.

Air is overrated anyway.

“I love you, Asher. I love you. Only you. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I love you so fucking much, Alyse. I know I love you, because I’ve never felt soul-tearing agony like I did last night when I saw you in his arms. Why would you do that to me? To us? You’re my everything and now I have nothing.” The last few words are rumbled on a sob.

Oh shit.
Now it’s all making sense.

I was emotionally and physically exhausted last night and accidentally fell asleep on the couch with Beck. Something woke me shortly after midnight and I asked him to leave, which he did immediately. And Beck and Cooper look so much alike…

He sags against me, his hard body completely pinning mine.

Okay, maybe air isn’t overrated.

“Asher, baby, listen to me. Can we go to your office where we can sit down and I can explain? It’s not what you think.”

“Never is. Always me,” he mutters, not making a lick of sense. I wonder how much he’s had to drink and how long he’s been doing it. And I wonder why he didn’t just confront me last night instead of leaving, angry and hurt.

Suddenly I’m petrified that I may lose him, all because I was too afraid to confess my secrets earlier.

Tears threaten. This is all my fault. Had I just been up front with him from the very beginning, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Once again, I have fucked up big time. But I push those baby-bitch tears and the emotion down, because right now Asher needs me. I can’t help him if I’m a blubbering mess.

He lets me push him back. I manage to get us away from the door enough to open it. I look out into the hall to ensure no one is loitering. Would probably be a bad idea for Asher’s employees to see him smashed at four o’clock in the afternoon, even if it is New Year’s Eve.

Tucking an arm around his waist, I walk him the short distance to his office and sit him on the couch. His eyes are now heavy and unfocused and he’s having a hard time keeping them open, even though he’s giving it his best college try.

“Can I have your phone?” I ask quietly, sitting next to him. He reaches into his jeans pocket and produces it. I quickly find the contact I’m looking for and dial. On the fourth ring he answers.

“Hi. It’s Alyse. I need your help.”

Chapter 41

Asher

I crack open my eyes and blink, trying to make objects come into focus, trying to remember where in the hell I am and how I got there. It takes me a few seconds, but slowly, events from the last twenty-four hours come rushing back. I wish they fucking hadn’t.

I realize I’m in my own bedroom, fully clothed, sans shoes, just like I’d left this afternoon when I went into the office to confront Alyse. I wasn’t as drunk as Alyse thought, but I wasn’t exactly sober either, so I remember every word spoken. Unfortunately I also remember how rough I was with her. Regret eats at me for the way I treated her. No matter what, she did not deserve that from me. I went there with the intent of fighting for her, but things quickly escalated out of my control. Hurt easily commandeered the reins from common sense.