Rebound (Seattle Steelheads #1)(4)

A sick feeling curdled in my stomach. “Why’s that?”

Asher looked me right in the eye. “Because it would have been ten times worse at home.”

I held his gaze. Then I looked past him at his ex and my partner. Nathan was leaning against a car, shoulders slumped as he gestured like it took all the energy he had left. Laura watched him in between jotting notes on her pad, her expression neutral.

To Asher, I said, “Do you and Nathan live together?”

He straightened, eyes widening. “Oh fuck. Yeah. We do.”

“If he isn’t arrested, do you have someplace safe to go tonight?”

Asher swallowed. “Arrested? Do you… Will he…”

“Maybe. At this point, that’s really up to you.”

He fucking blanched.

“Did he touch you tonight?” I asked softly. “During the altercation?”

“Not…” Asher gulped. “Not here. Not out in public.”

“I thought this started here.” I pointed at the restaurant with my pen.

“It… Well, it…” He sighed with frustration, as if he wasn’t sure how to articulate himself. Or if he wasn’t sure he should articulate himself. “We had a fight earlier today. Before I went to practice.” He shifted nervously. “That was what made me decide to do this tonight and get it over with.”

“And during that fight, did he touch you?”

Avoiding my gaze, he nodded. “It wasn’t bad. I mean, he grabbed my arm at one point. Shoved me.” He shrugged tightly. “He’s done worse.”

Of course he had. Abusers were so fucking predictable.

Asher stared at the ground between us. “I don’t want to press charges.”

I bit back a frustrated sigh. I’d responded to enough domestics in my five years as a cop that I wasn’t at all surprised. “Look, if you don’t feel safe—”

“I can get a hotel or something.” He chewed his lip. “But I mean… I can’t just kick him out?”

“Is his name on the lease?”

“Lease?” He eyed me. “No, I own the place. It’s in my name.”

Of course he owned it. This was Asher Crowe, not some software engineer struggling to make rent in this astronomically expensive city.

“Okay, then yes, you can kick him out. And it sounds like you should. I’d recommend a protective order if there’s a pattern of violence.” I raised my eyebrows for confirmation. He dropped his gaze, which was all the confirmation I needed. I went on, “Until you’ve had a chance to change the locks and make any necessary changes to your home security, it’s up to you if you want to stay in the home or go someplace safe for a night or so.”

Asher shifted nervously, gaze still down. “I think… I think I’d rather just go home.”

I got it, oddly enough. Familiarity felt safe even when it wasn’t. “Are you concerned for your safety?”

“I don’t want him to think I’m afraid of him.”

We both know you are, and there’s no shame in it.

“It’s your call,” I said softly.

He nodded. God, here was this man who dominated his sport and was notorious for his aggression on the ice, and he looked like a scared, confused kid. I could be a cop until the end of time, and it would never cease to blow my mind how easily someone this strong and larger than life could turn so raw and vulnerable at the hands of someone who was supposed to love him.

What did he do to you?

Asher glanced at the car again, and he deflated even more. “Fuuuck. How am I going to get home?”

I flicked my gaze toward his car. The damage was repairable, but it wouldn’t be fixed tonight. “Well, if you need it, I’m sure my partner and I could give you a lift.”

He looked at me, and for the first time, there was some actual life in his eyes. “Really?”

“Sure. We’re not doing our jobs if we don’t get you home safely.”

“Oh. Um. Yeah. Okay.” The faintest ghost of a smile pulled at his lips. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” I gestured at the bench Laura had sent him to earlier. “Why don’t you sit tight for a few minutes while I check in with my partner?”

Asher nodded. While he sat down, I crossed the stretch of sidewalk to where Laura still talked to Nathan. She saw me coming, excused herself from the conversation, and met me halfway.

We quickly got each other up to speed. Nathan’s statement more or less matched Asher’s, though he’d insisted that Asher had given as good as he’d gotten. We’d run that by some witnesses to be sure, but both our guts said Asher was telling the truth.

“He doesn’t want to press charges,” I said. “And he’d rather go home tonight.”

“Do you think that’s safe?”

I glanced at Nathan, who was still leaning against the car and was now thumbing through something on his phone. “It’s hard to say. I told Asher we’d give him a lift home, though, since…” I tilted my head toward the battered Ferrari.

Laura nodded. “Good call. Is he going to file a protective order?”

“Don’t know yet. I’m not sure he’s thinking quite that far ahead yet.”