Objective (Bloodlines #2)(73)

“What the hell is that?” she points, her face contorting with disgust.

“Bourbon.”

“Jesus. That was the drink of choice?!” she squawks, inspecting the bottle, her face in a scowl. When she sees my note she snorts and sets the bottle back on the table.

“It did the job. I’ve grown pretty fond of the stuff.”

“Is this a drinking story?” she asks.

“Probably,” I admit.

“Let me get my wine then.” She heads for the fridge and pours herself a glass of white wine before rejoining me on the couch. “PS: I love this couch,” she gushes as she settles in.

“So...Cane. I’ll start there.” She nods and sips her wine. “He’s alive. It’s all a huge mess, Aster. I was, uh, just starting to kinda get into a relationship with Bentley, but then we thought Ezra found me, but it was Cane he sent.”

“Cane was supposed to bring you to Ezra?” Her eyes are wide and disbelieving.

“No, Cane was supposed to ‘take care of me’ and bring the backpack I stole to Ezra. But, he couldn't. I...I think he still loves me. I think I still love him. There is so much betrayal and hurt and confusion, Aster. We've both changed so much. I want to believe that we can still find a happily ever after but it seems so farfetched.” She pats my knee and motions with her hand to continue. “Okay, right, so he took me. It was bad. Scary. I wasn't prepared to ever see his face again and it threw me. But he couldn't hurt me, not in the end. I begged him to just bring me to Ezra instead. I wanted our time together to just be as it was. He agreed.”

“Oh come on...” Her nostrils flare with disbelief.

“I shit you not. So we drove to Baltimore, but those four days, crap, those four days were good. As good as they could have been given the circumstances. Honestly I think I was more guarded than he was, but mostly it was as if nothing ever happened. He proposed for f*ck's sake!” I thrust my hand toward her so she can inspect the ring.

“It’s the ring!” she states.

“Huh?”

“That’s the same one. I was with him when he picked it out. I met him at the store.”

“You never told me,” I state.

“What did it matter after he was dead? It would have hurt you more to know he was planning on proposing.”

“You’re probably right.” I stare at the ring and twist it around on my finger. “So when we got back, Cane shot Ezra, but apparently Ash men don’t freaking die when they take a chest shot. Cane saved me. Drove me to a ‘safe location’,” I mimic with air quotes, “and when we get there Bentley walks out. Bentley...he’s ATF. He’s been watching me for two years or some shit like that and Cane was working with him to put Ezra away before I shot him. I had no idea they knew each other. I mean crap, one's my soul mate and the other one I was falling for!” I crow. “I’m so mad at them. Neither came clean about it - not truly. ”

“Boys suck. Have I taught you nothing? Now carry on, I’m saving all my commentary for the end.”

“Uh, okay so, Bentley said we needed to move, so Brock came up and I drove with him while Cane and Bentley rode in front of us separately. We got T-boned I think. The accident was bad and Ezra pulled me from the wreckage and well, he left me to die in a hunting cabin. Brock's in the hospital, and Cane, we think, was abducted by his uncle at said hospital and ahh...Oh. Bentley saved me at the cabin, and then I stole his truck to come see you and figure out what, besides the money, is so important about Cane’s old ratty backpack that I took when I left.” I finish. I watch as Aster’s brain works double time to keep up with everything that’s happened. She opens her mouth twice but snaps it closed, takes three sips of her wine and finally sets it on the little coffee table.

“You’re f*cking life is psychotic. I’m sorry I made you stop drinking,” she deadpans. I am completely powerless to stop the giggle that bubbles up in waves from my belly but she doesn't seem to mind. I laugh so hard that I end up scurrying to the bathroom only to find no toilet paper. Aster knocks at the door. “Forgetting something?” I groan and start laughing all over again. I never stopped for toilet paper. “I'll slide some paper under for you. Sorry, but your ‘To Do’ pad will have to do.” She laughs loudly as a pad of paper slides under the door. I look at it like it might bite me before replying, “Ew! I’ll drip dry, thanks!”

Aster and I spent a little while longer catching up. Seeing her face in person, hearing her voice and being able to touch her momentarily distracts me from the task at hand and it's nice. Things feel safe, fun, easy even, for a little while. Finally, as the afternoon turns into evening and Aster and I are more than just buzzed from drinking and gabbing, I pull us back to task.

“Ready to rip apart this bag with me?” I ask. She holds up a pair of scissors and gives me her best mischievous expression. I chuckle before leading us to the bedroom to get the bag. I pull it up out from its hiding spot under the floorboard near my bed and flop to the floor with it in my lap.

“Be prepared,” I say, knowing Aster will flip out when she sees the cash in there. Unzipping the bag I let all the wads of cash dump out around us. Her eyes bug out of her head and she picks up a couple of banded stacks to inspect them.

“It’s real, right?”