Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 17761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
He took the seat across the table and gestured for me to eat.
I’d taken two bites of my sandwich when I felt his gentle yet firm touch on my hand. A jolt of electricity zinged through my hand to the pit of my stomach. Instinct told me to take my hand back, but I was ensured by his focus on me.
“You're safe here,” he repeated the same thing he told me last night. “You don’t have to go anywhere.” His voice brooked no argument, but it wasn’t in a way that frightened me. “I’d like for you to tell me what you're running from or who’s trying to hurt you, but we’ll cross that bridge when you’re ready. Whatever it is, it won't touch you here. I won't allow it.”
His words were both a command and a promise, the dominance in his tone undeniable. Yet, beneath the rough exterior, there was a gentleness that made my chest feel funny… in a good way.
I searched his eyes, looking for any hint of deception, but found none.
Regardless, the instinct to guard myself rose. But another part—a deeper, more vulnerable part—felt an unfamiliar sense of safety in Ash’s presence. I couldn't explain it, but it felt right. The walls I'd built around myself wavered… just a fraction.
Swallowing hard, I nodded slowly, the unspoken agreement hanging heavily between us. “Okay,” I whispered, recognizing that giving in had never felt this easy before.
His thumb brushed lightly across my skin before he released me. “Good,” he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. This man clearly always got what he wanted. “Now, eat before the food gets cold. We'll figure everything else out later.”
A flicker of hope ignited within me as we ate in silence. The thought that I’d found a sanctuary—a place where the past couldn't reach me—had the future looking a little brighter.
But I wasn't foolish enough to forget that the past never stayed where it should.
4
EVIE
Over the next few days, Ash was attentive but also gave me space. I stayed in the room above the bar most of the time but ventured downstairs for meals and to just talk to him. It felt good being around others, and slowly, I felt that hard shell I’d built around myself starting to crack.
It was hard not to notice Ash’s protectiveness becoming increasingly clear. It wasn’t in a way that scared me, but more like he recognized the pain and fear I’d been enduring—what I tried to hide—and he wanted me to see and know I was safe with him.
I’d learned a lot about Ash in my short time with him. I knew he was the type of man who needed to control everything around him, who ran his bar—his world—with an iron grip. But he was also kind. He gave free meals to hungry patrons who didn’t have enough money, and he listened intently as his customers told him stories, knowing they needed someone to just be there for a moment.
But then I started noticing the way he watched me—not just out of habit or instinct, but because he was looking for something deeper. He was studying me, trying to figure out the cracks in my armor, the places where I’d been broken.
His eyes flashed with possessive concern.
More than anything, I’d always hated feeling like someone could see through me, and Ash definitely could.
Being with my ex taught me that I needed to perfect the art of disappearing in plain sight, of making myself small, quiet, and—hopefully—untouchable. And yet Ash saw me. All the time. He wouldn’t allow me to fade into the background.
I should have hated it, but instead, I liked it. I liked that he knew I was here and that he cared.
I focused on the present and stared at my empty plate. I’d just finished dinner, full and content and happy for the first time in years.
The bar was empty. The last of the regulars had filtered out into the night, leaving behind the low hum of the neon signs along the walls and the faint scent of whiskey lingering in the air.
I’d taken a table in the corner, keeping out of the way so Ash and his employees could work. But now that everything was quieter, I watched as Ash methodically wiped down the bar top, his movements steady, unhurried. He refused my help, but I got up, taking my dirty dishes as I walked to the kitchen, and cleaned them myself. Then I went back out, stepped behind the counter, and started drying the cups he just washed.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” I said, cutting him off and flashing him a small smile. “It’s the least I can do.”
He grunted as if he didn’t like the idea of me working but gave me an accepting nod. He had said little all night, but I’d caught his occasional glance in my direction, like he was making sure I was okay.