Chapter 55: Chapter 55

Chapter 55

ALICIA

I know the exact moment Ash steps inside the room.

I know, because I've been feigning sleep for the past three hours since he stepped out of it. I know the moment he cuts his eyes toward me, so I fake a light snore as he walks closer to me. Goose pimples break out all over my body as I feel myself being appraised. I can feel his relief. It rolls off him in waves. He's relieved that I'm calm, that I'm asleep.

Just when I feel the gig is up, he moves away and his steps become faint as he heads toward the bathroom.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to bust his happy bubble right about now.

I wait a few minutes before I slide out of the bed. I pull his bedside drawer open and my hand curls around the handle of his gun. It fills me with power and makes me confident. As I walk towards the shower, calmness washes over me. I know what I need to do. I silently open the door that leads to the bathroom and slip inside.

Steam. . . so much of it, clouds the air, fogging up the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. I often wondered why Ash had them fixed. As memories assail me, I know why. Memories of us making love suddenly fill my head. Me, bent over, watching him pound inside me from behind, of my legs wrapped around his waist as he pumps inside me, of him. . .

I catch sight of my reflection, and all the memories instantly evaporate, immediately replaced with one other memory only.

Tanya's murder.

She was murdered. . . by him. Ash.

That reminds me. . .

I'm here to avenge her death.

I stand and stare at my reflection for a few heartbeats. In these short moments, I see a washed-up-looking woman staring back at me with pain-filled eyes. She blinks, breaking the spell of inertia holding her, and I'm moving forward, filled with determination.

The gun feels heavy in my hand as I open the shower door and step inside. Ash seems oblivious to my entry, but that can only be a ruse because nothing gets past him. As he turns, I realize this is my chance, so I cock the gun and point it straight at the back of his head. "Don't move!"

He stiffens. That lasts for only a second before he's turning around to look at me. At first, he pierces me with a cold gaze, and then he speaks. "If you hold a gun to someone's head, you better be prepared to use it."

"You killed my sister, you bastard!" I practically spit at him.

He doesn't say anything, except to shake his head like he's disappointed like he expects me to understand something I clearly don't.

"Say something, asshole!"

He shakes his head once again and beckons for me to follow him. It could be the adrenaline flowing furiously through my veins, it could be that he's indulging me, heck, it could even be anything or nothing, but not once do my hands shake as I continue aiming the gun at the back of his head. He walks out of the bathroom and I follow close at his heels.

He doesn't stop to tie a towel around his waist, doesn't even stop to slip on a pair of briefs or boxers, he just walks straight to the bedroom door, opens it, and walks out into the corridor, as bare as the day he was born. The gun wavers in my hand as my bottom lip falls open.

Alright - I know Ash is crazy, but this. . . ?

He's most definitely off his rockers.

I hesitate for a bit before I rush after him. "Ash! Stop!"

It's like I'm talking to myself.

He doesn't listen, doesn't stop, doesn't even turn to look at me, he just keeps right on walking until he gets to the door of his office and walks inside. I quicken my pace, darting my head left and right to check if anyone is loitering around. Satisfied when I don't see anyone, I step into his office, the gun, now lying limply at my side, forgotten.

I try to avert my eyes, to look away, but his dick - it's got a life of its own. Even now - it's at full mast, vying for attention.

"You're naked, for crying out loud," I say, this time, more to myself.

I must be sick or something, because even now, in my pain, I feel my lady parts clench with desire. I'm getting wet just by staring at him. It gets his attention as he stops fiddling with the remote and cocks a brow at me but says nothing. He backs me and I heave a sigh of relief.

Lord help me, but I would not have been able to stop him if he had come to me and bent me over his desk. The image from the screen erodes all thoughts, as once more, I see Ash pointing a gun at Tanya. The only other living relative of my mine, my sister - baby sister - is dead. I'll never get to see her again.

A sob hooks in my throat and I know the waterworks are close, but I shake my head and lift my hand - the one in which the gun is in- and point it at Ash. The bastard doesn't even bat an eyelid, doesn't even blink. His eyes never waver, never leave mine. He cocks his head to the side and lifts an eyebrow, then he shakes his head, the same way a disapproving father would to his recalcitrant child.

"Look at the screen again, Alicia." His voice is a little above a whisper. It's soft. Entreating and hypnotic. I'm hard-pressed not to do as he says.

I turn my head and look at the screen, really look at it. I'm thinking to myself that Ash is a devil because I have to bear the painful ordeal of Tanya being tied up and the fear that flits into her eyes. As my heart clenches with pain all over again, the camera pans to Ash's face, and my heart literacy stops. It freezes.

His eyes - they're cold. Vacant. Unhinged. Dead. He turns to the side and I can't stop myself, I shout at Ash to pause the video. I walk forward slowly until I come to a stop directly in front of the television. Right there on Ash's lower neck, is a birthmark. It's a centimeter wide and purple.

How come I never noticed it before?

I turn my head slowly to look at him. He's watching me, the same way you'd watch a wild animal that can strike at any moment. He doesn't say anything as I circle him, stopping at intervals to study his body, the back of his neck, and the sides.

And then it hits me.

I come to a stop in front of him and point to the frozen television screen as I shake my head. "That isn't you."

He shakes his head, left to right, and I realize I've made a grave mistake. I accused the wrong person. I accused Ash of killing Tanya. Ash may be all types of things, but he would never kill my sister. I know that now. I don't realize I'm crying until I feel wetness on my cheeks. Firm hands encircle me and I'm wrapped against a hard body.

That's when I realize I'm shaking. My teeth are chattering so badly, my words come out in stutters. "Y. . . y. . . y. . . . you h. . . h. . . . h. . . . have t. . . t. . . t. . . . to get him."

Ash holds me close until I can feel the erratic beat of his heart until I can feel something else poking my stomach. I move back from him, but he cups my face, anchoring me to him. "That's a promise."

I jerk my head in reply, my shivering cooled to a minimum as I stare into his eyes. "Make me forget."

He pierces me with a gaze so deep, I feel it to my core. One minute, he's holding me, and the next, I'm bent over, holding onto the legs of his office chair. He lifts the tee I'm wearing, kicks my legs open, and slams into me from behind.

His hands. . . everywhere on my body.

His dick. . .soothing the ache in my groin.

His nails. . . digging into my hips as he withdraws and slams into me again.. . . and again, and again. The air is knocked straight out of my lungs as his tempo shifts to something I can only describe as insatiable.

Every time he seems close to release, he pulls out of me and kisses me until he takes me again, kisses me, repositions me, takes me, kisses me, repositions me. It's a cycle I never want to end. We continue this way for probably half an hour until eventually, he pulls out of me and then slams inside me so hard, I feel my womb has shifted. With a guttural cry, he releases inside me.

My release is not far behind as I shudder and let loose a long cry. He pulls out of me and turns me around to face him. We're both slick with sweat but he doesn't seem to mind as he holds me tightly. We remain this way until he whispers words of assurance into my ear. "He's a dead man walking."