Dare to Surrender Page 20

  Clutching her bag to her side, she kept her head down as she walked briskly toward the street. But, as she approached the man, she wasn’t surprised when he stopped in front of her, blocking her way.

  “Gimme your purse, lady.”

  Her heart beat a frightened tempo in her chest. But her purse had everything in it, including the sculpture.

  How ironic. Someone wanted to steal the stolen sculpture.

  “Come on, bitch!”

  He pointed something and her blood froze. He had a gun.

  “Here!” Quickly, she dug out her wallet and gave it to him. Grabbing it, he spit at her feet and ran back the way he’d come.

  Shaking, she stared after him, every nerve in her body trembling in fear.

  She’d been held up.

  Oh, God. Tears sprang to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. They kept coming and coming, even as she told herself she was fine, that he’d just stolen her wallet and everything could be replaced.

  It could have been avoided. She’d gone into an empty alley alone. Stupid! She’d done so many stupid things; she’d made so many poor decisions. Just moments ago, she’d been lost in a beautiful work of art. And now? Now her legs could barely hold her steady because they were shaking like leaves.

  He’d had a gun.

  She’d given him her wallet.

  And now she literally didn’t have a penny to her name.

  Finally she brushed the tears away, took a deep breath, and walked on. At that moment, there was only one place she wanted to be and one person she wanted to be with.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Ash. Be reasonable.”

  Tapping his foot, Ash looked across the kitchen table to where his sister was picking from a bowl of blueberries. She popped one into her mouth and met his gaze.

  “Seriously, Ash. You’ve already done way too much for me, and I don’t need a full-time caregiver.”

  He’d purposely come when he knew his mother would be out grocery shopping, getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner, so he and his sister could talk privately. But his sister was being a lot more resistant than he’d expected.

  “Violet, you’re the one who called me just a couple of days ago needing help. Remember?”

  “I know.” She took a deep breath, glanced away briefly and then met his gaze. “I wasn’t going to discuss this now, but screw it. I’m moving.”

  Ash froze. “What? What do you mean, moving?”

  She lifted a brochure from the table and pushed it toward him. “I want to move here.”

  Ash picked up the brochure. “Shelter Cove Rehabilitation Center?” Shaking his head, he glanced at his sister. “I don’t understand. You’ve already been through this rehab, years ago.”

  “I won’t go as a patient. I’ll be a counselor.”

  Why did everything seem to be slipping away? His world had been so orderly just last month and now… “Start from the beginning.”

  “Well, over the last year, I’ve been counseling patients online. And Mom’s taken me over to the center a few times to meet with the clients one-on-one. Now they’ve offered me a position as an in-house counselor—and, Ash?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I want to do it.”

  He glanced around the kitchen, at the improvements he’d made to the house to make it accessible. “I thought you were happy here, Violet.”

  She reached across the table and took his hand. “I am. You’ve been amazing, the best brother a sister could ever have. But I need more, Ash.”

  “Like what? You have an equipped house, a special van, the latest technology… I don’t get it.”

  “You’re right. Thanks to you I have so much, and I appreciate it, more than I could ever say. But I need more.”

  “What more? You want more money? Because I can give you more, just say the word.”

  But she was shaking her head, and Ash saw the stubborn look in her eyes, the same look she’d given all her life when her mind was made up. Ash knew from experience that Violet had a mulish streak; it had been apparent since she’d refused to share her piece of chocolate cake with him at her third birthday party.

  “I’ve been putting this off for a while now, Ash, because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it.”

  “Is it because of Mom?”

  “No. It’s because of me. Ever since Dad died, you’ve had this need to take care of us.”

  Stiffening, he drew his hand back. “I promised Dad.”

  “Dad never should have put that burden on a thirteen-year-old boy!”

  “It wasn’t a burden, and anyway, I failed.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?” he snapped.

  “Feeling sorry for yourself.”

  “What are you talking about? That’s ridiculous!”

  “You didn’t fail anyone. This,” she said, waving to her legs, “was a random act of violence. When are you going to accept that there was nothing you could have done about it?”

  He clenched his jaw. “I could have been here.”

  “This isn’t your fault. And the more you dedicate your life to making up for what you think you did wrong, the worse I feel!”

  “Violet, what are you talking about?”

  “How do you think I feel being so dependent on you? Knowing you plan your entire life around my needs. And Mom’s.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is true. Ever since the accident, you’ve devoted your entire existence to taking care of me, making sure I have the best of everything. But to you, it’s never enough.”

  He clenched his jaw. “I just want to make sure you and Mom have security.”

  “But where do you draw the line? Listen, Ash, I know you have a lot of money, more than enough to live on— you don’t even have to work! And I’m going to get paid for this job. Mom can get back to work, back to her own life. Not to mention, we could easily live off the stocks you put in our names.”

  He just stared at her. “But… I thought you were happy….”

  “I am. We are. But I think we’ve all been afraid to move on. Me, Mom. You.”

  “Move on from what?” He couldn’t comprehend what his sister was saying. His family didn’t need him anymore? The thought left him cold and anxious, and he eyed the door.

  “It’s time for us to start a new chapter, Ash. All of us.”

  “And this is what you want? What Mom wants?”

  Nodding, she said, “It doesn’t mean we still don’t need you, Ash.”

  “Right,” he said, pushing out of his chair. “For what?”

  “As a brother and a son,” she said, her blue eyes watery and shining. “As a friend.”

  The words echoed in his head after he left, and as he drove home, he expected to feel a sense of loss, a void. After all, hadn’t he lived the last ten years with the sole purpose of supporting his family? Hadn’t taking care of them been the driving force behind ninety-nine percent of his decisions? But slowly, bit by bit, another emotion crept through him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced since…

  Ever.

  Reaching to the radio, he turned up the volume of the AC/DC tune and began tapping his hand on his thigh to the beat of “Highway to Hell.” Driving, listening, he couldn’t help but feel it. A sense of freedom.

  “Joy?” Erica ushered her inside her apartment. “What’s wrong?”

  Joy lost it.

  The tears burst from her eyes as she sank onto the sofa, uttering incoherent things. “The sculpture was just so beautiful… in my purse… I didn’t think—I never think!” She hiccuped. “And then stupid Panos sold it and then I had sex against a wall… and I have no money, no savings…”

  Erica gently removed Joy’s coat and purse and set them aside. Taking a seat next to her, she silently put her arm around Joy’s shoulders. Joy leaned against her friend. Erica was so good; she was always there for her.

  “My car’s in jail; I had to borrow money from my grandmother… no tires… Ash thinks I’m irres
ponsible, and maybe he’s right!”

  “You’re not irresponsible, honey. You’re just a bit preoccupied sometimes.”

  “I’m a mess!”

  “You’re not a mess. You have a unique way of doing things that is… endearing.”

  “See?” Joy said with a sniffle. “You get me. Why can’t he?”

  “Oh, honey.” Erica hugged her tighter. “You’re too good for him.”

  Joy shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “He’s too good for me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Startled by the vehement tone of Erica’s voice, Joy glanced up.

  Erica gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Sorry, I just hate it when you put yourself down like that.”

  “Erica, you don’t understand. I… I…” She swallowed. “I stole from him.”

  “What?”

  Joy told her the entire story, from the night she’d stolen the sculpture from the museum to receiving it back. Finally she ended with a “He’s been so good to me, and I’m nothing but a thief!” And she promptly burst into tears once again.

  “There, there,” Erica said, patting her back. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

  “No, it’s not! Erica, I’m a thief, I’m broke, I can barely afford to fix my car, and I’m going to be th-th-thirteee!”

  “Thirty is the new twenty-five.”

  Joy couldn’t help but chuckle through her tears. She hugged Erica tighter, giving her a kiss on the cheek. They stayed like that for a few more minutes, cheek-to-cheek, until finally Joy took a few deep breaths and pulled back. But Erica kept her close, staring at her strangely.

  “You love him.”

  Joy snorted. “What? That’s ridiculous!”

  Erica just stared at her. “You do. You normally wouldn’t care about something like this so much, but with this guy you do.”

  “Of course I do! I’m not a thief!”

  “No, but you usually just accept the outcome of things and move on. You’re definitely more upset about this particular shenanigan than usual.”

  “Maybe,” Joy admitted with a pout.

  “Uh-huh.”

  After a few moments of silence, Joy sighed. “We’re a mess. I steal from my non-boyfriend, and you hate the first guy you’ve been attracted to in years.”

  Erica picked a nonexistent thread off her dress. “Well…”

  “Well, what?” Joy put a hand over her mouth and gasped. “It’s not the rich guy, is it?”

  “He’s not… quite as preppy as I thought.”

  “So. You misjudged him? The great Erica O’Reily actually got it wrong.”

  “I’m not saying that. I’m saying I hardly even know him.”

  “But you had sex with him.”

  “Maybe.”

  “How was it?”

  There was that blush on her friend’s face again. “Freaking phenomenal,” she finally admitted. “And…”

  “And what?” Joy demanded.

  Erica squealed as she sat on the sofa. “He’s covered in tattoos!”

  “Get out!”

  “I know!” Erica’s eyes glittered. “He looks so preppy, but then he takes off his shirt, and he’s totally covered. It’s really, really hot!”

  Joy nodded. She was well aware of Erica’s tattoo fetish.

  “And they’re good ones,” she went on. “Not crappy ones, but very artistic.”

  “You must have had an orgasm just looking at them.”

  “I almost did.”

  Joy was silent for a second. “Yeah, I know how you feel. I get that way sometimes when I see Ash’s sculptures.”

  “So, what’s the problem, then?”

  “We’re total opposites.”

  Erica looked thoughtful. “Maybe it’s true. Maybe opposites attract… and then you have to look at the core to see what matches up.”

  “Are we talking from personal experience, by chance?”

  Erica shrugged. “I don’t know. All I’m saying is maybe it’s a good idea to know all the facts before you make a final decision.”

  Joy twisted to the side and brought her knees to her chest. “Erica, what’s gotten into you?”

  Erica twisted the pendant at her neck and gave a nervous laugh. “Um… Blaine?”

  Joy threw a pillow at her friend. “You tramp!”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes! And it’s about time.”

  The girls fell into a heap of laughter, just as they’d done a million times before.

  Finally Erica pulled away. “You’re sure this Ash guy is different?”

  Joy paused and then, “Are you sure this Blaine guy is different?”

  “No. But I’m willing to take a chance.” Her gaze softened. “Are you?”

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  “Now listen. You’ve been through a lot today. Let me cook you something amazing.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Standing, Erica said, “You just put your feet up and relax for now, okay? I’ll bring you a glass of wine.”

  “Thanks, Erica. I love you, you know.”

  “I know.” Smiling, she turned and went into the kitchen.

  Lying back on the sofa, Joy stared at the black-and-white photograph of Erica and her that sat in a frame on a side table. It was from a few years back when they’d gone camping in Mendocino. That was a good trip; they had so many good memories. Joy just wanted her friend to be happy.

  And Joy wanted to be happy, too. Erica was finally coming to terms with her working-class roots, but what about her? Why did Joy always pick the wrong guys?

  Was Ash wrong?

  No, everything about him was right, and just the thought of him made her toes curl and her heart skip as she pictured his teasing grin and electric green eyes. Ruby said he may have cheated, but Joy had a hard time believing that. She just knew he could never do something so dishonest and untrustworthy.

  He was different; he was nothing like the usual scammers she picked. She bit her lip. It was Joy who was going to have to prove that she wasn’t the unfocused mess he thought she was.

  She just wasn’t sure exactly how to do that.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  You seem jumpy tonight. Anything wrong?” Ash asked as he carried over two tumblers of whiskey.

  Just as she was leaving Erica’s after a long dinner, Ash had called, inviting her over. She loved that he was thinking of her and had immediately jumped in a cab to his house. Erica had insisted Joy borrow a hundred dollars until she got paid, so at least she had a few bucks to last until Friday.

  “Oh. Um.” She’d almost forgotten about the events from earlier. “I was mugged today.”

  “What!” he demanded. Suddenly the easy-mannered blond man she had known turned into something resembling a very angry lion.

  She gulped. “Yeah. Earlier. In an alley. I’m okay; they just got my wallet.”

  He was beside her in an instant, assessing her in one all-encompassing gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Are you okay? What happened?”

  She let him lead her to the sofa where he gently pushed her onto the cushions. She became aware of all the framed photographs scattered around the room, mostly images of her, and a fresh wave of panic washed over her. Guilt still spread through, but she ignored it. She had a plan, a plan to fix everything. Isn’t that what responsible people did when they fucked up? Fixed it? She was going to fix it. First thing in the morning.

  He took her in his arms, brushing a soothing hand over her hair. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here.”

  She breathed in his scent: whiskey, soap, and him. If he found out what she’d done, would she ever be this close to him again?

  “Oh, babe. You’re shaking.” He scooped her up in his arms and stood.

  “What are you doing?”

  He kissed her softly on the forehead. “Taking care of you.”

  Ash lit the last candle. Looking around the bathroom, he thought Joy would be pleased. He’d pilfered about ten big, wh
ite candles from his emergency supply and scattered them around, lighting the room in a warm, soft glow. After he’d heard that Joy had been robbed, he thought he was going to lose his head. Pure rage had bolted through him, leaving a white-hot anger pulsing in his veins.

  Some fucker had dared to rob his Joy.

  His Joy? Where had that thought come from?

  Even now, several hours later, he still fought back the anger and fear of what could have happened.

  Don’t go there, Hunter.

  Helpless. He fought that feeling, but he needed to do something for her, anything. Because he couldn’t track down and kill the asshole who’d held her up, he decided to take care of her instead.

  He was just turning off the bathwater when Joy appeared, looking half awake, her hair still messy from sleeping. His gaze dropped to the pale skin of her thighs, and his body immediately responded with desire.

  “What’s all this?” she asked, her eyes wide.

  He crossed the room and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I thought you could use a nice relaxing bath.”

  “You didn’t have to do this, Ash.”

  He placed a gentle kiss on her nose. “I wanted to.”

  She sighed and he could have sworn she looked reluctant for a second. But then she reached up and cupped his head with her palm, pulling him close for a kiss. Holding him, she ran her tongue over his lips, pushed her way inside his mouth.

  When she stepped back, his cock was throbbing. Then she pulled the T-shirt over her head and threw it on the ground, and everything in him went tight with lust.

  She stood there before him, the candlelight flickering over her pale skin, highlighting the dip of her waist and the beautiful curve of her full breasts. Her nipples were hard, tight points, and he couldn’t wait to taste her skin.

  She stepped out of her panties and then stepped forward to tug off his shirt and pants. When they were both naked, she got on her tiptoes and kissed him again.

  He wasn’t sure what had shifted, but her manner was different. He let her lead.

  “This was supposed to be for you,” he said.