Chapter 19: Giving Him the Finger

ADDY

I snap my fingers, frustration bubbling up.

“Three. Two. One. Asher, I swear to God, if you don’t come out of hiding right now, your death is going to be so much worse.” This is the sixth time I’ve threatened him.

Silence. I groan, annoyed.

“Come out, come out.” I bend down to look under the table. I’m still covered in egg, searching for him. ~This house is going to be a mess.~

My parents are going to kill me before I even get a chance to deal with Asher. He’s nowhere to be found.

“BOOO!” A hand grabs my shoulder.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I scream, spinning around, ready to fight.

Someone yanks the fork from my hand and spins me around.

Asher is sprawled on the floor in front of me, laughing his ass off.

“You jerk, you scared the shit out of me!” I kick him, trying to slow my racing heart.

“OMG, you should have seen your face. Fuck. Absolutely priceless. OMG HAHAHAHAHA?”

I kick him again, and he shuts up fast.

“Get out!” I point to the door.

“And let you burn down the kitchen alone? No way!” He looks up at me before standing.

I glare at him.

“Just kidding, go take a shower. I’ll clean up the mess and then we can bake the brownies together. Okay?” He flicks my forehead.

“I don’t want to bake anymore,” I whine, pushing him away.

“Aww, come on. I promise I’ll behave this time.”

I give in to his pleading.

~Weakling!~ a voice screams in my head.

~Yeah, weak for him.~

“If you do anything stupid then I will kick you out,” I warn him before running up the stairs to my room.

“Got it, Buttercup.”

I roll my eyes before slipping into the bathroom with fresh clothes.

***

When I come back down, Asher is sitting on a stool in the kitchen, scrolling on his phone.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” I say as I walk in.

“No problem. I was the one who made the mess anyway.”

I wave at him before heading to the cupboard to get the rest of the stuff we need for the brownies.

“I have butter, sugar, eggs, cake flour, cocoa powder. Ah, I need vanilla extract.” I look up at the highest shelf.

~Why did Mom have to put the baking stuff up there?~ I huff in annoyance.

“Do you need a hand?” Asher asks, but I shake my head and jump onto the counter.

“I’m not a baby. I’ve done this before.” I glance back to see Asher raising his hands in surrender.

“Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

I groan and flip him off. He just laughs as I stand on the counter.

I pry open the cupboard and spot the extract all the way in the back. ~You’ve got to be kidding me.~ I reach for it, but instead, I grab another mini bottle.

And then I slip.

~Really?~

I don’t even have time to scream before I’m falling backward off the counter.

~This is it, the day I officially break my skull.~

But just as my head is about to hit the floor, two hands wrap around my legs. I gasp. I’m hanging upside down in Asher’s grip.

“Are you serious!” I whine up at Asher.

“What? I just saved your ass from a trip to the hospital.”

I groan.

“Couldn’t you have caught me a bit more romantically?” I blush at my own words. Like in the books, where the guy catches the girl in his arms.

“Oh, like this, you mean?”

Asher swings me over his shoulder and my face collides with his ass.

“Stop treating me like a sack of potatoes, you idiot,” I yell, smacking his butt.

“What are you talking about? This is romantic. Your butt is literally in my face,” he says, patting my ass to prove his point.

“ASHER! Let me down and get me the vanilla extract.”

He sets me down, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I grin at him as he retrieves the tiny bottle.

“Here.”

I take it from him and set it on the counter.

“Can you get the whisk while I get the bowl?”

Asher nods. He removes something from his wrist, placing it on top of the microwave before he moves to get the whisk I got out earlier, while I pull out two bowls.

“First, melt the butter on the stove and add the sugar. Stir in until the mixture is hot, but not bubbling. It should look shiny and warm,” he reads from the recipe on my phone.

I glance at the microwave to see a bracelet on top. ~Is it new?~ I’ve never seen it before.

“I’ll do that. Turn on some music,” I say, not wanting to ask him about it for some reason, and I start measuring the butter.

Music starts playing from my mini speaker that he connected to his phone earlier, and I smile as the beats fill the kitchen.

“I am whisking the eggs,” Asher says as he picks up the mixer.

We sing and dance around while working. I haven’t had this much fun in ages. I catch Asher’s eye, and he winks at me before throwing the flour into the bowl.

While the mixer is still turned on.

The flour flies everywhere, mostly onto Asher, and I start laughing at the sight. He gets some in his mouth and starts coughing, which only makes me laugh harder.

“Find this amusing, do you?” Asher’s smirk is aimed my way as he scoops up a handful of flour.

“No, Asher!” I squeal, darting around the counter just like he did earlier.

“Get over here!” His grin is wicked.

“I just showered, Asher!” I protest, making a break for it. But Asher’s faster, snagging me around the waist and pulling me against his solid chest.

“No worries. We can shower together. Save water.”

I glance up at his handsome face, only to be met with a shower of flour.

As if that’s not enough, he works it into my hair. I spin around, shaking the flour from my hair onto him as he tries to escape. I see his move coming and trip him up, letting out a triumphant laugh.

My victory is short-lived, though, as he yanks me down and I tumble onto him. My legs straddle him, my body flush against his firm one.

“You’ve got a little flour here,” I murmur, reaching up to brush it from his lip.

“You’re covered in flour,” he whispers back, wiping my cheek.

Heat floods my body and I’m about to return the favor, brushing flour from his cheek, when a phone rings loudly, shattering our intimate moment on the floor.

~Damn phone!~

The music that was filling the kitchen cuts off, and I scramble off Asher.

“That’s my phone.” He gives me an apologetic smile.

“I figured,” I return his smile, trying to brush flour off my clothes. My gaze lands back on Asher, but his smile is gone, replaced by a serious expression as he stares at the caller ID on his phone.

He picks up the phone slowly, his voice icy as he answers the call.

I take a seat on a stool, trying not to eavesdrop. I pull out my phone, scrolling through Instagram.

“I don’t fucking care, got it?” Asher’s voice suddenly rises.

My eyes widen as I accidentally like and unlike a picture I’d already liked, trying to appear uninterested.

“What don’t you get? I couldn’t care less if he’s dying. He’s no father to me.” His harsh words make me grip my phone tighter.

A moment later, I gasp as his words sink in. ~Is he talking about Mr. King?~

“Stop arguing and get your ass here, Asher,” a woman’s voice yells. I hear it clearly.

~Is that his mom? I’ve never met her. Asher only lives with his dad. Why does he hate his father so much?~ Questions flood my mind before I can stop them.

A loud bang snaps me out of my thoughts. Asher’s still looking furious, his phone lying on the counter.

“You okay?” I ask, standing up from my stool.

“No,” his voice is shaky, not as strong as before. His eyes well up and I rush to him, touching his arm.

“Asher, what’s happening?” I ask, looking up at him.

“My dad was in a car crash. It’s serious.”

I gasp at his words. “Oh my God, go. I’ll drive you.”

I try to push him into action, but he doesn’t move.

“Let’s finish the brownies.”

His words stun me and I spin him to face me.

“Asher, what the hell? This is your dad.”

“He’s no dad of mine! I don’t care what happens to him.”

My mind goes blank.

~How can he say that?~

“Stop saying that. He’s your father, no matter what!” I try to push him toward the door again.

“Shut the fuck up!” he suddenly yells, his eyes locking onto mine. The warmth from earlier is gone, replaced with a cold stare.

“You don’t know a thing. He’s a murderer. He killed my mom. And he killed me, too.”

His voice is distant as he speaks, like he’s reliving painful memories.

“Asher, stop,” I beg him.

He shoots me another icy glare.

“He’s still your—” I try again.

“He’s nothing. Absolutely nothing. Don’t try to tell me otherwise.”

I place my hand on his face, trying to make him look at me.

“Listen, Asher, I don’t know what happened in your family or why you hate him so much, but don’t be stubborn. Go see him. You don’t know if this is the last time you’ll see him.

“Don’t do something you’ll regret later. Tears won’t bring back the dead.” My voice is soft as I plead with him. The last sentence stirs a painful memory and I close my eyes, pulling away from him.

A bitter chuckle makes me open my eyes again, and I look up at Asher’s emotionless face.

“You’re just like them. What do you even know, huh?” He backs away from me.

“Do you know what it’s like to lose the person who means everything to you?” He throws the question at me and I flinch.

~Yes.~

“Look, I understand.” I try again, standing still.

~How did we go from laughing on the floor to this?~

“You have both your parents. You don’t know shit, so don’t pretend like you understand me.”

I flinch at his harsh words.

~If only he knew.~

“Asher, can you just—”

He turns away, ignoring me.

“If you don’t want me around, just say so. Stop trying to feed me bullshit when you don’t understand a damn thing about what you’re talking about.

“You don’t get to tell me whatever you want just because you think it’s right.”

I swallow back a sob, watching him as he walks out of the kitchen, not even bothering to say goodbye.

~You’re the one who doesn’t know shit about what you’re talking about.~

Tears start to slip from my eyes. But this time, I don’t make any effort to hold them back.