Burn (Breathless #3)(26)

Obsessed? Yeah, that was one word for it. Demented was another. He was acting like a crazed stalker, the kind most women would do well to steer clear of. Only he wasn’t going to harm Josie. But he was kicking himself for not keeping his man on her, because someone had hurt her, or at the very least she’d been injured in some way.

Why hadn’t she called him? Why hadn’t she come to him for help? She had to know after their conversation that he would take care of her.

With a muttered curse he returned to the table where Brittany, Jace and Bethany all looked up at him. Concern immediately flashed in their eyes. His expression must have been grim for them to have picked up on his mood so quickly.

“I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have to go. Brittany, I’ll make it up to you soon. Promise. Jace and Bethany, thank you both for coming, and please, all of you finish your dinner. I’ll see you all later.”

As he turned to walk away, Jace called out to him.

“Ash? Everything okay?”

Ash sent him a look he knew Jace would pick up on. He’d know it had to do with Josie, and he’d understand. Jace nodded once and then turned back to the women, smiling and engaging them both in conversation.

Breathing a sigh of relief and knowing he owed Jace for taking over, he picked up the phone to call for his driver. If Josie was going to the gallery, she’d probably go right back home since she hadn’t been anywhere else in the last several days. He’d take care of buying the art she’d taken in later, but right now he was going to be at her apartment waiting for her to return and then they were going to have a serious come-to-Jesus moment.

Chapter ten

Josie breathed a sigh of relief as the cab pulled to a stop at the corner of the cross street her apartment was on. She hadn’t wanted to venture out at all, but she’d wanted to get more of her artwork to Mr. Downing. While the money from the sale of her previous works would tide her over for the next few months, she’d wanted to get more to him so the buyer wouldn’t lose interest or think she didn’t have anything else to offer.

As she paid her fare and stepped out of the cab, she self-consciously put a hand to her bruised cheek and winced when her fingers brushed over the corner of her mouth where her lip had been split. Head down, she hurried down the sidewalk toward her apartment, only wanting to be back inside and out of view of anyone.

Though she had nothing to be ashamed of, she still felt embarrassed over what had happened. Shocked. Completely and utterly shocked that Michael had come to her apartment and lost his temper, something that had never happened before. She was still in disbelief over it all. She should have pressed charges. She should have done a lot of things, but she’d been too numb to take it all in. So instead she’d sequestered herself in her studio apartment and worked feverishly to take her mind off the events of the last week.

She knew she owed Ash a response. An explanation. Something! She’d told him she wouldn’t take long, but how could she go to him with bruises inflicted by a man who’d been her dominant?

Of course, it was laughable now. He wasn’t a true dominant. He’d been playing at it. It was an ego trip for him. He’d become someone completely different the moment he realized she was serious about ending their relationship. Her mistake had been mentioning Ash at all, not that she’d called him by name, but she’d told Michael that he couldn’t give her the things another man had promised her.

Now she wasn’t so certain. What if Ash was no better? She knew next to nothing about him. She’d been ready to commit, had actually made up her mind to call him the same day Michael had come to her apartment. After that fiasco, she’d harbored doubts and self-preservation had kicked in.

If Ash was more intense than Michael—and it was evident he definitely was—then could she expect the same kind of treatment at his hands? Or even worse?

Her head spun with the possibilities and she knew she was in no emotional state to be making such a huge decision. To place her trust, her well-being, her entire self into the hands of a man like Ash. And so she’d remained silent, mulling over her decision, going back and forth.

The fact was, she was afraid. And that fear had prevented her from either accepting or declining his proposition. And she hated that fear. It wasn’t how she wanted to live her life or make her decisions. She needed a clear head before taking that huge step in trusting another man who could very well turn out just like Michael.

She heaved an unhappy sigh and reached into her pocket to retrieve the keys to her apartment. Her head was still down when she reached the steps and she saw an expensive pair of shoes directly above the first step leading down to her door.

Startled, she glanced up to see Ash standing there. As he looked her over, fury blazed in his eyes and she took an instinctive step backward.

“What the hell happened to you?” he demanded.

He was seething, anger bristling from him in waves. Gone was any semblance of charm or laid-back calm. He was one huge ball of pissed-off alpha male.

“Please, not here,” she whispered. “I just want to go inside. Let me by and then leave.”

His expression of complete what the f**k made her pause as she attempted to push by him. He grasped her shoulders, his grip firm but extremely gentle, his fingers against her skin, but not pressing into her flesh.

“I want to know who the f**k did this to you,” he growled.