“Shit!”
“What is it?” Asher squeezes my leg.
“I left my phone at the arena.”
“Damn.” He hands me his. “Text Dale and ask him to get it for you. I asked him to stay behind to make sure the cleanup goes okay.”
I shoot Dale a text, and five minutes later, he sends me a goofy selfie of him licking my screen.
ME: EWWWW, Dale. You’re disgusting.
D: Don’t leave your phone lying around.
ME: Do you know phones are more unsanitary than bathroom floors?
D: Good to know in case I want to lick a bathroom floor.
ME: You’re so wrong.
D: Baby, you know I’m all kinds of right.
I stare at the screen, trying hard not to read into Dale calling me baby for the first time since that night at the barn. We’re careful not to flirt with each other. It’s so easy to fall down the rabbit hole again.
“I want to take you somewhere. Is that okay?” Asher’s voice breaks through the silence.
I blank the screen, feeling guilty over something I haven’t done, and turn to face him. “Where are we gonna go in the middle of the night?”
“There’s this great little all-night diner about forty-five minutes’ drive from here, and they sell the best peanut butter milkshakes in the world. But that’s not where I want to take you.” He reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips. “Raine, you inspired me tonight. I know I gave you shit about going to the cops, but fuck, baby, seeing you on stage, performing the best I’ve ever seen you with a crazy person on the loose and threatening you made me so fucking proud. It also inspired me to face some of my own demons. I want you to go with me to my uncle’s place.” His throat works a giant swallow, and he flicks his eyes to mine briefly before turning back to the road. That brief glance was enough, though, to show me he is feeling really uncertain.
I push the apprehension down. I have no idea if this is a good idea or not, but he was there for me today. It’s time to repay the favor.
“If you’re sure, I’d love to go with you.”
Asher’s answering smile lets me know I made the right choice.
I find myself growing more nervous, the closer we get to the house. God, what if I can’t do it? What if I have a breakdown instead of being strong for him? We may both be broken and damaged, but I was a willing participant in everything that happened to me at the farm, even if I know now I was brainwashed. Asher and Dale were not so lucky. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to be in a room where he was forced to do so many unspeakable things.
“You okay?” Asher squeezes my hand. “We don’t have to do this if you feel uncomfortable. You can stay in the car.”
Now I feel like crap. This isn’t my trauma. I should be the one supporting Asher. I take a deep breath. “I should be asking you that.”
He smiles, and it’s a sweeter smile than I’ve ever seen from him. “Sometimes watching someone you love hurting is harder than being in pain yourself.”
I lean over the seat and press my lips to his. “Let’s do this. I’m here for you.”
Asher gets out of the car and shuts the door. The frigid wind whips my hair into my face, and I’m glad I changed into sweats and a hoodie after the show. He fists his keys in one hand and holds out the other for mine. He doesn’t step toward the house immediately; instead, we both take in the grounds that have been really well kept for a property where the owners are in prison.
“Does someone take care of this place? I expected it to be rundown.”
Asher frowns and leads me to the house. “Yeah, my uncle still runs his lily business from prison. He has a guy maintaining the grounds.”
I don’t ask him how he knows all this stuff because we’re climbing the porch steps, and my heart is kicking against my ribcage. Asher inserts a key into the corroded brass knob and unlocks the old oak door. Pushing it open, the squeaking hinges protest.
We walk into the house that must hold so many terrible memories for Asher, but as I shoot a glance over at him, his face is an impassive mask. I try not to cough as the smell of mildew and dust hits my nose. I take in the grimy sheets thrown over the furniture for protection. Not that I think it’s going to do much good; the smell of stagnant air and mildew must be seeped right into the fabric and wood by now. I guess the caretaking doesn’t include the house.
Wordlessly, Asher heads to the back of the house. We enter the kitchen. The paint on the walls has dulled over the years, leaving them a dirty beige. My gaze falls to the round table in the center of the room. A condiment stand with a stained plastic ketchup bottle still half full with now rancid sauce stands in reproach in the center of the table. I shiver as I imagine Dale and Asher sitting down to meals with the very people who abused and profited off them all those years and silently wonder how they managed to swallow their food. I don’t have time to take in the rest of the space since Asher is pretty much speed-walking me to the basement steps.
As we approach the basement door, he stops suddenly and rubs a hand over his neck, then looks at me with a weird expression. “Last chance to back out of this.”
My stomach twists, but I give him my best confident smile and squeeze his hand. “Let’s do this. After, you can take
