Rebound (Seattle Steelheads #1)(15)

After that, we stopped for lunch, and while we were eating, my phone chimed with a text.

I picked it up without really thinking about it, and nearly fumbled the phone when I saw the words on the screen:

It’s Asher. Just wanted to say thanks for talking me down last night.

I set my sandwich on the wrapper I’d spread across my lap. Any time. Doing better today?

“Kids?” Laura asked just before taking a bite of her wrap.

“No.” I put down the phone and picked up my sandwich. “Just a sext from Asher.”

She choked.

I snickered. “You deserve that, by the way. For making me get coffee up my nose earlier.”

“Fuck you.” She cleared her throat. “Please tell me you two aren’t actually sexting.”

I wish.

Laughing despite the sudden warmth in my cheeks, I shook my head. “No, we’re not sexting. He was saying thanks for last night.”

“Uh…”

“For checking on him.” I rolled my eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Officer Wayne.”

“Excuse me, Officer Logan.” She elbowed me across the console. “You’re the one who put Asher Crowe and sexting into my brain. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“That’ll be the day.”

“Uh-huh. You’re telling me.” She picked up her phone and thumbed through some texts.

I got in another bite of my sandwich before my phone chirped again.

Better, yeah, Asher wrote.

Good. Any contact from him?

Just that he wants his car + his stuff. Mercer cops had me pack some of his things & they took that & his car for him to pick up. Not sure when he’s moving all his stuff out though.

Well, that was something. One less excuse for Nathan to show up at Asher’s door.

Good plan. What about the protective order?

Asher started and stopped typing several times. I had a feeling I knew what that meant, and my heart sank every time the typing icon disappeared.

Finally: Restraining orders are too public. Can’t do it.

I grimaced. Okay. Yeah. In his shoes, maybe I wouldn’t have wanted something like that in place either. Under the best of circumstances, a protective order could and did provoke abusers. Once Nathan was served with the order, the ball was in his court. He could wisely back off and steer clear of Asher, or he could blow his stack and take the violence to a whole new level. That was the problem with orders like this—sure, they gave us more leverage to keep someone in custody if he violated the order, but sometimes it also fueled their rage enough to make them walk right through it and get in the last word. Or punch. Or worse.

And in Asher’s case, it was complicated because he was a high-profile athlete. All it would take was a nosy reporter or someone seeing Asher on his way into a court hearing, and the truth about his relationship would be all over the news and internet. Humiliating his ex on that scale could get seriously dangerous for Asher.

On paper, I should have been encouraging him to get a protective order, but in practice… Shit, I just couldn’t argue with him.

I shuddered and texted back, He’s had a verbal warning to leave you alone, though. Call me or Mercer P.D. if he does anything.

Will do. A moment passed, and a second message came through: Thinking of hiring private security.

Wow. It hadn’t even occurred to me to suggest it since most people couldn’t afford to even think about private security. Asher Crowe? He could afford to think about private security.

Might be worthwhile, I wrote back. Hopefully overkill, but nothing wrong with caution.

I’ll look into it. Sorry to keep pestering you.

Not pestering—always here to help.

Thanks. :)

Any time.

No more texts came. Laura and I finished our lunch, and I took over driving for the second half of our shift. The blissful boredom continued, which was probably not a bad thing. Not when my mind kept wandering to the man on Mercer Island.

I didn’t imagine I’d see Asher Crowe again. Not in person, anyway—his face was a little hard to avoid in Seattle, especially for those of us who loved hockey. Even if I hadn’t been a Steelheads fan or a Crowe fan, I drove past the stadium a million times a day, and he was one of half a dozen players whose faces were prominently displayed on huge banners outside.

In a way, I hoped we didn’t see each other again. That would mean I wasn’t getting called in to run interference between him and his psycho ex. It would mean that, with or without a protective order, Nathan had gotten the message and gotten out of Asher’s life. Fact was, I worked in law enforcement—it was a good thing when people didn’t have to see me more than once. I didn’t want him or anyone else to need me showing up in their lives.

But on some level I couldn’t quite understand, I hoped last night wasn’t the last time I saw Asher.





Chapter 4


Asher



“Crowe, for fuck’s sake!” Coach Morris’s voice echoed through the empty stadium.

I cringed, then schooled my expression and skated around to face him.

He glared hard and gestured sharply at the net that had been in absolutely no danger from the puck I’d just sent its way. The shot had gone miles wide, ricocheting off the wall and almost hitting one of my teammates instead.