Page 151 of Dirty Deadly & Mine
There it is. That voice again.Hisvoice. A man I care about so deeply, yet can’t have.
I blink through the never-ending stream of tears, slowly turning to survey the room.
I’ve gotten used to it being Asher’s room in the short time he’s been here, yet seeing my sons in it has removed that.
It’s not Asher’s room. It’s Ronan’s. It’ll always be his room.
It doesn’t smell like him in here, though. It smells like Asher, his spicy wood scent already consuming the space.
I spot Asher still on the floor, leaning against the wall, his hand pressed to his side, blood seeping from the dressing.
Shit.
SHIT!
Kneeling, I focus on the wound, lifting his hand off the dressing enough to see that the flow of blood is easing. I can feel his eyes on me as I check each one of his wounds, but I can’t bear to look him in the eye. If I do, I might crack and shatter into a million pieces.
He’ll try to apologise for this. He’ll think it was his fault, but it wasn’t.
All of this is on me.
“Lily,” he whispers, and still, I don’t look up at him.
“I’ll go and get the first aid kit,” I say, keeping my eyes cast low as I stand and hurry to leave the room.
My son’s room.
What was I thinking?
I rush to gather the things I need before returning to Asher, never once looking him in the eye as I work. When I peel the dressing off, I find a few stitches have popped. Even though he’s bleeding, it doesn’t look too bad, so I clean up the wound and stick a few butterfly strips over it before applying a new dressing.
“Are you going to look at me?” Asher asks, and like the coward I am, I shake my head.
“Why?”
I suck in a sharp breath, biting back the ocean of tears that burn my eyes.
“I can’t.”
“Why?” he asks, frustration lacing his tone. “Are you angry at me?”
“No,” I whisper, more tears popping free and rolling down my cheeks.
“You should be,” he rasps and my eyes snap to his.
“No. I shouldn’t. And I’m not. I’m angry at myself, Asher. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
He frowns. “Neither have you.”
I scoff, standing and directing my gaze to his bed. “Get yourself into bed. I’ll get you a drink and some painkillers.”
I leave the room before he can say anything, and by the time I return, he’s laying back in my son’s bed. The one I fucked him in the other night.
Placing the water and painkillers on the bedside table, I turn to leave, but Asher catches my hand.
“Don’t push me away, Lily. We will work this out. The twins just need time. Once they see how much we care about each other, they will come around.”
I risk a glance at him, his whisky eyes piercing as he stares at me with certainty. How can he be so sure of this? Nothing feels like a sure thing right now, especially not us having a future together.
