Ash got ready for her evening meeting with Charles. He had a dinner with the local council, and then there was a town hall meeting the next evening. He’d texted and said he’d be ready for her around nine.
During the day, she’d laid a bit more ground with Jensen Bowen, but she wished she wasn’t such a screwup and had thought of this earlier. She also hadn’t figured a way for him to intervene. She wasn’t a master plan type of girl. Mam had always taken the lead, but look where that had landed her.
A lightning bolt of an idea hit her after racking her brain night after night. Finally, a workable plan. An odd mixture of fear and relief percolated inside her. Fear for what she was about to do and relief in the knowledge that she’d found a way out. She might have to use her powers to help in the extortion phase. But maybe not. Hopefully not.
When it came down to it, Ash didn’t like conning people. It was the only marketable life skill she had. Sure, she could work at McDonald’s or some other minimum-wage job, scraping a living, trying to make rent. But Ash was selfish enough to be like the rest of the American population. She wanted to be comfortable. Just hated her day job like anyone else.
Working as a PA or any other administrative assistant position wasn’t very lucrative either. Better than Mickey D’s, but you had to pay for a wardrobe. Essentially you had to look richer than you were. A uniform wasn’t supplied in the business world, although everyone who worked within its confines wore an approximation of one.
Before she came up with the plan, she did another search, on biofeedback techniques. On her search last night about BDSM, after confirming what she’d suspected about the alternative lifestyle, she’d done a further search. On how to cope with pain during BDSM sessions. Most said that you weren’t to handle pain, that ‘the submissive’ was to give the safe word and stop the session.
Charles operated without such buffers. After looking up the portion on biofeedback, it looked like she wouldn’t have any luck there, either. It stated you had to compartmentalize the pain, put it in a box. Which meant your brain had to be capable of compartmentalization.
Therefore, no way she could get control of her mind magic. But when the plan hit her, she realized she’d been looking at it from the wrong perspective.
One thing about the stress she was under, it was a great weight-loss plan. Her clothes were getting looser every day, and her stomach churned so much food had become repellent.
Looking at the clock, she knew that she only had a few more minutes in the sanctuary of her room before she had to enter the lion’s den. Look at the positives, Ash. The penetration part doesn’t last all that long anymore. The pain excites him so much that when he finally does the deed, it’s a five-second performance.
A hysterical giggle exploded out of her mouth as she thought about the term Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. It seemed apt.
The alarm on her phone went off. Show time.
She walked the three doors to his room and knocked. He let her in with one of those smiles, and although she knew it would get worse, she was glad the good Charles opened the door. Even though she needed the bad one.
He kissed her cheek and gently hugged her, and told her to leave her clothes in the bathroom and come out and kneel on the bed.
Instead, she waited in the bathroom. Waited for the taste of Charles’ emotions to change. This was the risky part—he didn’t always switch over quickly. But since he had switched in his office momentarily this afternoon, she’d bet on red.
Her nerves juddered, her fingers trembled and hands uncoordinated as she smoothed her blouse down. She avoided looking in the mirror. Seeing her own face would only increase her fear.
“Ash? Get your ass in gear, baby.”
She declined to answer. Swallowed hard.
And slowly lost hope. Well, she did have an alternate plan that was much more devious. More lies and deceit piled onto the crapload she’d piled on so far. Sighing, she started walking out of the bathroom before Charles came in.
Whether it was the good guise or the bad, the script started out the same. Arms crossed protectively, she walked out of the bathroom. Charles was pacing, and she caught the faint whiff of stinky sauna underneath. The right persona was in the room, which upped the stakes. Heart in her throat, she hoped this would work.
“Charles—I don’t—”
“Why aren’t you undressed and in the position?” Icicles hung off the words.
Tightening her self-embrace, Ash lifted her chin and looked Charles in the eyes. And shivered. There was nothing of the statesman in those eyes. Ash knew that she was risking her life. She had the slim hope that if everything went wrong, if this plan didn’t work, her mind magic would reboot in time to save her life.
She didn’t count on it though. Ash had learned from an early age that there were winners and losers in life. And the winners barely ever won because it was fair and right. Considering she had earned her way in life from pre-adolescence by manipulating and conning people, her hands were just as dirty as Charles’.
But not as bloody, she’d bet her remaining two hundred and fifty-six dollars in her bank account on that.
Her throat had shrunk to pinhole size. Trying to take a deep breath was near impossible, but she sucked in as much air as she could. Looking into those dead eyes, “It’s over, Charles. I’m not doing...”—she waved one arm toward the bed—“anymore.”
His jaw ticked. He was in his undershirt, with trousers on. The apex of his biceps twitched just below the hem of his short sleeve. His hands clenched.
Her heart lodged itself in the minuscule circumference of her throat. She felt like going into a tripod position and wheezing just to get some air.
Her ears rang, and she felt non-corporeal. Like she wasn’t really in her body. Standing outside of herself.
When she first gotten the onslaught of her powers when she was young, this outer-body feeling first happened. It seemed to be some way to deal with high emotion or stress. Like you weren’t living in your body—you were other, separate. It didn’t last long. It was called disassociation, she’d learned years later.
Her ears rung, and with the sound of her heartbeat, it was hard to make out what Charles said next. He motioned to the bed in a controlled, jerky manner.
It seemed like he was telling her to get on the bed. Ignoring her words. As she had assumed this Charles would do.
The next step was the easiest and the scariest. The tinnitus was louder, and she was tempted to shake her head to clear it. But instead she pretended to be oblivious to the escalating violence in his posture.
“No.” She couldn’t hear herself speak, so she assumed it was quiet. Consciously lifting the chin she had dropped, she tried to make herself look calm. If she could stick to one-syllable words it might work. Right.
His honeyed eyebrows were dipping down, slashing against a quickly reddening face, his pale eyes even more opaque and colorless than usual. Almost rimless. Her ears popped, just in time to hear, “Assume the position on the bed.” Firm. Cold.
The look on his face had her taking a half-step back. “I mean it, Charles. No more games. No more of... this.” She didn’t let go of herself this time, just angled her head at the bed while not looking at it.
His face was redder than a sunburned Viking’s. He moved so quickly she didn’t have time to move anything but her head to get away from him. In a matter of milliseconds, he’d turned her around and pulled one of her arms behind her, smushing her face against the wall as he kicked her legs apart, cop-style.
The cold metal of a handcuff opened under the rasp of his voice. “You don’t get to tell me no.” The way he was moving her around like a Raggedy Anne was surreal. She wasn’t a light woman.
Charles was stocky. Strong, yes, but this seemed like a jumped- up- on- drugs strong. PCP-like. But that wasn’t possible. Adrenaline maybe. He threw her on the bed and any train of thought, except trying to make it through the next part, vanished.
She squirmed and fought and cried out while Ash felt the cuffs secured on one ankle. She tried to keep the other away, but then a punch to her kidneys, with a cold, “Stop.” The cuffs always scared her—, they had buckles, not velcro. The webbing that attached the cuffs together ran under the bed. On- the- go bondage.
She tried to get on all fours, but he forced her body down flat. And then her skirt was clinically cut off.
Strangely, this made her relieved. If he’d torn off her skirt, it meant Charles was totally out of control. At least he’d regained some sense, if not all. A totally out-of-it Charles could be a death sentence.
The webbing tightened, her legs secured and immovable. Oh no, the smell... cedar and ash, cold and dark. Her skin prickled with goosebumps all over.
Charles grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. She closed her eyes, because she would be punished for making eye contact. The pull lessened. “Good girl.” He levered her bottom up, her shoulders pushed into the cushion of the bed.
Her legs shook, her breathing increased. She should have known this was coming because the welts on her bottom had faded. She didn’t have to inwardly wince when she sat down without thinking.
One of the greatest tools for fear was anticipation of the pain. Ash would have preferred to just get through it, but Charles knew that prolonging the wait was torture in and of itself. Later on, there wouldn’t be a wait.
Legs trembling, nerves jangling, she tried to control her breathing, tried to pretend she was anywhere but here. Where would she be? Suddenly Lee Hierne’s face popped in her head. Which seemed totally inappropriate. She shouldn’t be thinking of Lee. She found him attractive, but it was going to be a very long time before she had sex with anyone again. If ever.
Somehow when she envisioned Lee, she felt comfort, so she clung onto that thought, as insane as it was. Anything to help her through this.
She reminded herself that this would be the last time. And this time she could call it rape. She just had to endure it. She’d become a pro at it. Every time this happened with Charles it was a test of endurance.
Finally the sting of the flogger hit. It felt soft, which made her tense up. Softly the multi-fingered flogger whispered against her skin, and she tried to relax into it. It was a nice sensation, hard to enjoy because of what was to come.
The pace increased, and the thump, thump, thump increased the sensation, concentrating on her bottom. The bruising had healed recently and it was not a bad area for him to work. The strength of the flogger increased, and she could hear the slap, slap, slap in the quiet of the hotel room. As her skin sensitized, the pain started to come. Ash could envision how red her bottom was getting as every nerve ending sang out with every hit.
This time, she made sure she said, “No.” Ash punctuated every hit with that word. There wasn’t much emotion in the response; she treated it more like a mantra. No-hit-no-hit-no-hit.
The tempo and the strength increased. She guessed her mantra angered or excited him. It didn’t matter which as long as she had the marks to prove it. It needed to be bad this time.
The thought of the pain to come made her breathing increase, her vision blur, and her fear heighten. So did the pain. She’d tensed up. The constant cycle of the hits wasn’t an unpleasant sound—the increase of electricity burning in her veins was excruciating though.
Her arse could heat the hotel room at this moment. Then the strength and frequency increased, moving up her body. He started hitting her upper shoulders, through her blouse, using the same interminable routine as the pain increased more and more.
The strength of the thumps increased, her shoulders burned, electric pain fizzed up and down her back. She tried to lower her body further into the comforter as her arms and legs tired.
Her muscles flinched every time a hit was coming. The repeated contractions were causing an ache in her arms and legs both. And Charles was a fit man, he could do this for a very long time.
Her breathing increased as the pain did. Dentist level now. Not as sharp though.
Strength and speed increased again, and the flogger slipped and wrapped around her neck. Ash bucked, trying to get the flogger away. She could only move as far as her tethered legs would allow. The suffocating feeling of the flogger wrapped around her neck had her gasping for air.
But Charles moved back down to her blazing bottom, pain blooming, increasing, but panic only an acidic sea in her stomach, not a wheeze in her throat.
Again the flogger moved up to the shoulders, thumping and hurting, burning like charcoal embers. Her eyes started tearing, and she hoped it would be over soon.
She bit down on her lip, still trying to say no and not scream whilst breathing through her nose.
There were so many spots of pain that each was indiscernible from the other right now. It was starting to get bad now. A muffled screech escaped. Breathe, breathe. Oh God, this is insane! Why am I here?
The plan. The plan. This is the last time.
A grunt and a pleasurable groan came from Charles. “That’s it, baby, scream for me. I’m going to have to gag you soon, but scream for me.”
The flogger slipped again. A mighty thwack hit around her face and shoulder blades, and she saw white, a flashing white at the edges of her eyes, Ash yelped in pain. Instead of her throat, the fingers had curled and nipped her face. They were deadlier when they wrapped around something, the fingers of the flogger like nails digging in.
Then Charles stopped and stuffed something in her mouth and hit her again. The pain was about to get worse if he gagged her.
But no—she breathed in relief, exhaling through her nose, when his belt jangled as he unfastened it. He walked around to the front, and she was confused. His trousers were hanging open.
One more time. This would be the last time.
When he stopped in front of her, he pulled her cuffed arms into an upside-down ‘V’. Her face, the smarting side down, pressed into the bedspread. He held her elbows together with one hand, the cool leather strip of his belt wrapping around her arms, securing them. As she tried to pull away, he pulled her now-secured arms up to her head, past the point that her arms could move that way. Her shoulders felt like they were going to dislocate.
Ash was cold all over, and unconsciously started to beg around the cloth in her mouth. It might be undecipherable, but the message was clear. Please no, please no, please no.
White noise raged in her ears, but she felt the bed dip. Ash couldn’t seem to get enough air. Please no, please no, please no. She didn’t know why she feared it, she knew it was going to happen.
And Charles thrust inside her without any preparation. He usually wore a condom, lubricated. Her vagina squeezed, tightening upon penetration, the searing tearing pain as he thrust once, pushed deeper and then deeper. Last time, Ash, forget the pain, this is the last time.
She tried to relax, to let the muscles go. This wasn’t any different than any other time. She’d never really wanted sex with him, but she’d chosen to have sex anyway. This wasn’t any different. A bit rougher. She’d be sore.
But somehow as much as she’d planned this, it still felt like rape. Different than the other times. She didn’t know why. She’d set it up this way.
Her body was in shock, but finally recovered, and Ash finally found the sense to fight back, moving her hips, lowering her bottom, trying to get away from him. It worked momentarily until he pushed her elbows upward again, the wrenching pain in her shoulder joints overriding the vaginal pain in that moment. He held her arms there while her rammed inside her, grunting, taking, saying “Fuck yeah, fuck yeah,” with every thrust.
He finally sped up. It was getting harder to breathe through her nose as the tears filled her eyes. And finally, with a “Fuck yeah, Ash!” he spent himself, pushing his body against her hips, the heat of her bottom against his sweat-soddened hips.
He removed himself, she felt every movement scraped out as much as it had in. He took the cloth out and slowly unsecured her. As soon as she could, she moved off the bed as quickly as her screaming body and mind let her.
Again she avoided the mirror as she got her clothes on as best she could. She could feel that her face was marked. His lust for her pain and humiliation had overriden any thought for consequences. And that would get her what she needed. The other part of her was saying to get out. Run, run, run, run away and don’t look back.
She grabbed a towel to wrap around her torso and slipped out. One door, two doors, the walk seemed interminable. Finally she was at her door. Her fingers operated numbly, without sensation, as if she had been out in the cold too long. Her wrists hadn’t been cuffed tightly, only her feet, so it wasn’t a circulation issue. Remotely, she thought she must be in shock.
Which must be good, because although Ash was walking like a cowgirl so none of her body parts touched, it was going to be worse as soon as the numbness wore off. She was raw inside and out.
Her body went on automatic pilot, jerkily discarding her clothing, kicking it out of her way. She looked at her upper torso in the bathroom mirror. Skin was broken, striped with uneven welts, with angry knots blooming. Even through the shirt, he’d done some major damage. Even torn the shirt.
Save the shirt, she thought. Monica Lewinsky-like proof.
She couldn’t see any bleeding, just reddened skin. Turning around, she winced as she moved her neck to crane a view. It was worse on the back, and she was thankful that all of her bottom wasn’t visible. Her right leg was warm and burned.
Turning back to the mirror, she braved it and had a head-on look at her face. A ‘V’ shape on either side of her eye, a bit going over the outer edge of her left eyelid.
It hit her with full force then. Her knees weakened and she grasped the cool granite of the bathroom countertop, trying to keep herself from crumpling to the ground. It felt like her knees had melted. She managed to slowly lower herself to the floor, grimacing at the contact with her arse, but once she settled, the cool tile didn’t feel unpleasant, it was soothing.
There was a difference between making a choice to have sex with a man when you didn’t particularly like the act and rape. Tonight, she’d been raped. Even though she’d orchestrated it. Couldn’t puzzle out why she felt so violated this time and not the others.
She rested her arms on her knees and finally broke down. The sobs echoed in the tiny room, and that soft echo encouraged her to cry more, to let out every emotion. Naked, possibly scarred, scared and so alone. Ash didn’t know if she’d ever felt as alone as she did now.
No one to turn to. No one to help her. She was the one who was supposed to be helping her family.
Great big loud ugly sobs, the kind that made her face red, blotchy and totally unattractive. She didn’t cry prettily.
She was so angry at Mam, angry at Da for never helping the family financially. Angry at Connor for being a shit and always getting the family into trouble, even angry at Ling for getting pregnant.
And angry at herself for being the family doormat. She tried rocking to comfort herself, but the friction just increased her pain. So she hugged herself, avoiding most of the sore spots but not all.
She spent a long time on that bathroom floor. Ash cried herself to exhaustion, until she was probably dehydrated from the moisture loss.
In the midst of all the turmoil, she’d made a decision. She’d do whatever she could to get money out of Appleby. Manipulate, lie, even use her powers. But then she would get away from the family. Except Ling and the baby.
She loved her mam, but Mam asked too much. And she didn’t think she would ever get over the betrayal she’d finally admitted to herself she felt. She thought a clean break with her family was the answer. Not an easy answer, but the right one.
Ash had always thought if she could sense her own soul, it would probably be lightish, with dappled shadows. She’d led a life that was about getting money from people, tricking them. But she didn’t think that she was really a bad person.
After this, if her soul got a little darker, so be it. She didn’t care about good Charles and bad Charles. Charles had hurt her willfully. He had something bad deep inside of him that only came out to play during sexual encounters. Ash couldn’t focus on the good guy, the Dr. Jekyll. They were the same person. Charles touched her sore spots lightly or avoided them altogether when he was sunshine. He was cognizant of his deeds. Culpable. He owed her. She’d do it in the cold light of day. It was the only time she wasn’t scared.
The dark scared her, now.
#
Lee had been coming from an evening walk as Ash left the hotel. “Going out for a walk? It’s a nice evening for it.”
She startled at his voice and looked up. Even though he couldn’t see her eyes, something was off about her. Her usual composure had slipped slightly. “What—oh, hello, Mr. Hierne.” Ash gave a not-too-convincing smile that didn’t come anywhere near her eyes. “Yes, it seemed like a nice night for it.” Not always a good liar, Lee thought. Something had her rattled. He could feel her skin jumping from here.
“I’ve just come in, but my legs could stand another round. I know it’s a small town but a woman still shouldn’t walk alone after dark.”
A non-focused smile from Ash again. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” She sidestepped him and said, “Have a good evening, Lee.”
Apparently she’d stopped waiting for permission from him to call him by his first name. It made him grin, and he bent to stop her from walking out alone.
He put his hand on her shoulder. A flinch, a sharp inhale of breath came from her mouth, almost a strangled screech. Jumping back, her hair flew up. Two welts intersected around her eye, previously hidden by that glorious mane.
The welts were pink and new with dried blood; anger burned in his stomach. “What in the hell happened? Come on, I’ll take you to the doctor.”
Ash backed away, making a staying motion, gave a watery laugh. “It was just one of those things. Turns out I don’t mix well with exercise equipment. I was lifting weights, you know, on those pulley things? And I lost my grip and skinned my face and I fell ass over teakettle. So, you caught me in a lie, Lee. I’m actually catching a cab to the pharmacy to get some items to deal with this.”
Gently he remarked, his fingers going to the proximity of the red welts—they looked like they’d been glued to stop the bleeding—“I think you’ve misled me again, Ms. Gilt.” He looked in her frightened eyes. “Tell me how this really happened.”
Ash looked outside as if there was someone to aid her with an escape.
Lee said quietly, because although she’d told her story well but not convincingly, she looked like she was about to bolt any second, “You should still see a doctor. I’ll take you. My car is just around the corner.”
Her eyes flashed, dilated and then narrowed in a blink. And then she nodded and said in a whisper and an an exhalation of breath, “Okay.”
As he walked her to his car, she didn’t look happy, but resigned.
#
Ash melted into the luxury of Lee’s car. Butter-soft seats moulded to her aching bottom. This was better than the plan she’d hatched. Originally, she’d been going to call Jensen after she went to the drug store. When she was calmer. Then she could manipulate him into convincing her to go to the hospital.
A stroke of luck. The communications expert. He’d want her kept quiet, yet he really seemed like he cared. She still couldn’t taste his emotions, but his soul was pleasant. Not too light or too dark, but warm and welcoming, so different from the persona he portrayed. Was that why she’d been having inappropriate fantasies about him?
The urge to crawl on his lap and curl up was overpowering. Even though her arse was probably twice the diameter of his two thighs, and blazing. And those thighs looked tempting to sit on but were probably rock hard. Not a good landing spot right now, logically or emotionally.
When had she gotten a knight-in-shining-armor fetish? She took care of herself. She didn’t even know this man. He was suspicious of her, and his doubts about her were true, for the most part.
If there was enough of a payoff, she’d take a cut. She and Ling could do what they’d wanted to do for years. Get away. Start a small business. Leave the craziness that was their family behind. Not turn her back on them, she couldn’t do that, but gain some distance, some perspective.
Maybe she was projecting. Ling probably didn’t want it as much as she did, but once Ling was a mother, that would change. Ling wouldn’t want her kid to grow up like they had. Security. It was what Ash longed for. Stability. It was what Ash dreamt of.
When other girls were dreaming of their perfect wedding, Ash had been dreaming of a quiet, stable life. And never, never was there a guy in the picture.
So why did Lee look good in her white-picket-fence, cozy-cottage dream?
She put it down to stress. Ash had been on her own too long and she just wanted to stop.
Only a little while longer. She let herself have her fantasies for now. It took her mind off the recent reality. And the upcoming one.
The bright lights of the hospital glared in the windshield, and Lee pulled up to park. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Do you need to report anything to the police?”
The tears came out naturally. They were tears of relief, but letting Lee assume they were another type suited her. “I-I don’t know what to do.” She hated this part of the plan. Would’ve hated it with Jensen, but hated herself even more for it with Lee.
Her brain was calmer now, and she’d tried to wedge her way into his thoughts and emotions. Ash wasn’t operating at one hundred percent, but she couldn’t even detect a way in, which was weird. Lee was locked down tighter than she’d ever experienced.
He made a motion to touch her shoulder and she flinched. That part wasn’t acting. There wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t burn, ache or smart right now. The need to be held was overpowering, but the fear of being touched was equally as strong.
“What happened?”
She told the truth, just not the whole truth. With every sentence she forced out his face became more and more grim. Half in shadow, he could almost be frightening, except she wasn’t frightened of him.
When she’d finished, he rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair. Sighed. Sighed again. “Give me a minute.”
Then he left the car and started walking back and forth. He looked almost like he was enacting a Monty Python silly walk, the long legs churning up the parking lot, stopping with almost military-like precision and doing an about-face.
Ash watched him like a slow-motion tennis match, back and forth, five circuits’ worth.
And then he abruptly stopped in the middle of the sixth, and his shoulders slumped. Lee dragged his feet in almost a childlike manner to the car, sat and turned. “Okay, here’s what I assume. Just answer with a yes or no, okay?”
She nodded.
“You’ve been having an affair with Appleby. No, don’t say yes or no, it’s an open secret. Do I assume correctly that he did this to you?”
She nodded again.
“Was it against your will?”
“Yes—this time.”
“What do you mean this time?” Ash opened her mouth and he stopped her with a cutting-off gesture. “No, I don’t need to know. Don’t expand on your answers. Just yes or no, okay, Ash?”
Why did her name sound so nice coming out of his mouth? She knew what he was doing. He was cleaning up the pile of crap. Sweeping it under the million-dollar tapestry. Just what she wanted him to do. Needed him to do.
So why did it feel so awful that he was doing it? Because, Ash berated herself, you need this for the family, but you want him to try to talk you into going to the police. You want him to be enraged, to want to protect you and not the campaign. Stop being such a girl.
His back straightened and he looked fiercely at her. “The question now is, what are we going to do about this? I don’t want an answer this time, not until I’ve outlined your options.”
“Option one—we go to the police. The trial of public opinion will see a charismatic gubernatorial candidate. And they will see a working-class girl whose brother is about to go to jail for murder.” He didn’t pause for her reaction and bulldozed ahead.
“Option two—we don’t go to the police. You leave the campaign with a great reference and an amazing severance package. You sign a non-disclosure agreement, and you never have to deal with Appleby, or Thomas, again.”
Her heart sank at the mention of Thomas. Ash felt sad Lee needed to threaten her with Thomas. Implied, not overt, but the threat was real. You didn’t want to run into Thomas in a sunny parking lot. The thought of Thomas lurking around the corner...
The last part of her plan was a contingency, but it was looking like it would have to be a reality, and expanded to include Thomas, too. For her safety and her family’s.
She found it hard to physically swallow. All these emotions she’d planned on faking were manifesting themselves for real. It confused and unsettled her.
In a hoarse voice, she said, “When you put it like that, I’ll take option—” Finally she managed to swallow. “I’ll take option two.” No sense him seeing a victim, better him seeing a bitch, since she’d just seen his cold-hearted bastard face. It helped a little that he’d had to talk himself into it when he was Monty Python-ing. “You sort out the legal stuff. I still want a rape kit done. I want everything documented. I want a hard copy, because I have a good idea of what would happen to the electronic one. I will sign the non-disclosure, and I will keep my copy to keep myself safe.”
“Agreed.”
“I wasn’t finished. I want you to look at the reports and the pictures. I want you to get the best severance you can. Get the lawyer to draw up the non-disclosure, but I want you negotiating my payoff.”
He’d winced slightly when Ash had mentioned him looking at the reports. He had little micro-expressions, like he tried to stop them. He was mostly successful at it, except for tiny little twitches. It was endearing really.
Ash inwardly shook her head. Back to extortion. “It better be a good package, Lee. I know he can afford it.”
If he was disgusted at her mercenary attitude, he didn’t display it even slightly. He nodded.
As Ash got out of the car, her legs felt wobbly. And she wondered how she’d just cold-heartedly negotiated a payoff for an assault that she’d orchestrated. How had she gotten to this spot?
And why did it feel like her heart was breaking?