Talon (Ashes & Embers Book 4) (15 page)

"I'm getting really tired… Do you think we could go?" I ask quietly, not wanting to embarrass him in front of his friends, who all seem to be having a good time just chilling here. I suppose this is normal for this type of event, but I'm not used to staying out this late at all.

He grabs my arm. "No, babe…not yet. Hang out with me. Do you want a little weed? It's good stuff."

Ugh.

"No, I don't."

The guy sitting next to him jokes with him about something I can't hear and they both start laughing. He seems to completely forget I'm sitting there. Annoyed and hurt, I get up and leave, expecting him to follow me, but he doesn't.

Screw this. I don't want to be here anymore, and I certainly don't want to be around him when he's stoned. I make my way through the sea of people to the entrance of the club and find our limo still in the lot. I cross the dark parking lot and lightly tap on the driver’s side window of the limo. Max puts the window down and looks at me questioningly.

"Are you all right, Mrs. Valentine?"

"Yes… Are you allowed to take me home?"

"Of course." He steps out of the limo and opens the back door for me. "Will Mr. Valentine be joining us?"

"No, you can come back for him. I would like to go home now, if you don't mind driving me?"

"No problem at all, Mrs. Valentine. That's what I'm here for."

"Thank you, and please, call me Asia." I feel silly being called Mrs. Valentine.

I
fall asleep
in the limo on the drive home, jolting awake when Max opens the door for me.

I step out, my legs wobbly from wearing heels all night, and Max takes my hand. "I'll walk you to your front door. It's very dark here in the woods, even though it is beautiful."

"That's very sweet, thank you," I say and let him walk me to the door. Thank God I have my key with me and the code to the security system or I'd be sleeping on the porch. "Max, please accept my apologies, but I don't have any money on me… I don't know how this works for payment."

A warm smile touches his face. "It's all taken care of, Asia. No worries for you at all. Have a good evening. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again. I'm usually the driver Talon requests."

"Oh, that's very nice. Thank you again for bringing me home. I'm sorry to make you have to make an extra trip."

He waits for me to enter the house and close the front door behind me before he leaves, which is a nice gesture I'm sure is part of his job. I kick off my boots as soon as I get into the foyer, and Pixie comes running, her little bell jingling. Picking her up, I hold her against me and kiss her soft fur.

"I missed you too, sweetie," I whisper and carry her up to the bedroom with me.

As I get undressed, I keep checking my cell phone, hoping Talon will either text or call me, but he doesn't. I wonder if he even realizes I'm gone? And now that I'm home, I'm a little mad at myself for leaving him there, stoned, drunk, and surrounded by sexy women. Did I just inadvertently give him an opportunity to spend the night with another woman? How stupid am I?

No. He wouldn't do that. He wants our marriage to work.

This house has a high-tech alarm system installed, but I still feel scared all alone here for the first time out in the woods, so I turn the hallway light on before crawling into the bed, which feels amazingly empty without him next to me.

Even though I'm so mad at him that tears spill down my cheeks and onto the pillow, I miss him so much my heart aches.

T
he ringing
of my cell phone wakes me, and I find it next to me on the bed, the screen flashing Kat's name. I ignore it, not wanting to talk to her at the moment.

Right now, I'm way too distracted with the vacant side of the bed where my husband should be, but isn't.

He never came home.

Checking my phone, I'm shocked and gutted to see there are no messages, no phone calls. Nothing.

Does he even care where I am? Does he know I made it home okay?

Where is he? And where the hell did he sleep?

Stress-induced nausea comes over me in quick waves as my mind scrambles to all sorts of sordid scenarios, from him starring in an orgy to being in a car accident to serving divorce papers. Any one of those things seems realistic to me right now.

Biting my lip, I call his cell phone and it goes straight to voice mail, which means his battery is probably dead. Or maybe he rejected my call to avoid talking to me.

I rifle off a text, just in case.

Me: Where are you?

I stare at the little glowing screen, waiting for it to tell me it was read, and hoping for a reply.

Nothing.

Ah! Maybe he actually did come home and slept on the couch downstairs so he wouldn't wake me up. I jump out of bed and dart down the stairs, praying that's where he is, but my heart sinks even lower when I see the couch is empty. He's nowhere in this house.

Panic hits me again and I pace aimlessly around the room like a mouse in a maze. I have no idea what to think or do. This is entirely new territory for me, to be putting up with a missing partner. I debate calling Dr. Hollister or Kim, but I'm embarrassed and I don't want it to seem like I'm tattling on him in some bizarre way. Maybe he has a really valid reason for not being home, like a car accident.
Oh my God.
What if he's hurt? Would anyone call me?

I wander around the house, like somehow he's just going to appear.
He doesn't.

I
take
a long shower and wash off all the makeup, sadness filling me that even though I spent all that time and money to look pretty for him, in the end, what did it matter? Something else obviously caught his attention. Probably something blond with big, bouncy, balloonish boobs.

A flash of fear bolts through me when I see the shower drain filled with dark water and for a quick moment I think it’s blood, but then I realize it’s the hair dye.
Jesus. My mind is going nuts.

I rinse my hair and shower as best I can and then go through my routine of blow-drying my hair, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed, hoping if I just act normal, he'll show up.
He doesn't.

Realizing it's now noon, I rationalize that I should call someone, in case something has happened to him. I can't just sit here and ignore it, so I call Evie's cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Evie… It's Asia. I'm so sorry to bother you."

"It's okay, you can call me anytime. What's up?"

"Um… I'm a little worried. Talon never came home last night, and I tried his cell, but there's no answer and—"

She cuts me off. "Asia, he's here with us. He's fine."

My heart leaps. "He's there?"

"I thought you knew, I'm so sorry." The tone of her voice tells me she's being truthful.

"No, I had no idea. I've been freaking out all morning."

"Oh, Asia, I'm sorry. I honestly thought you knew he came home with us or else I would have texted you last night to let you know."

"Why didn't he come home? I left at about three. He was stoned and I couldn't get him to leave, and I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to come home and go to bed, and I thought you guys had left already."

She sighs into the phone. "No, Storm had this bright idea of fooling around on the roof. Don't even ask. Anyway, when we finally were getting ready to leave, we found Talon and he was kinda wasted but said you went home. We didn't want to leave him like that, so we brought him home with us and he slept on the couch."

"Was he with someone? Please tell me." I brace myself for her answer.

"No, he was pretty high and I think had a little too much to drink. I swear to you, I did not see him with another girl. He was hanging out with two guys when we found him."

A small amount of relief comes over me and I blow out a breath. "I don't like this at all, coming home alone and waking up not knowing where he is. I've been a wreck."

"Well, yeah, I would be too. Here, Storm wants to talk to you…" I hear her pass the phone to him.

"Hey, Asia." Storm's voice comes over the phone, and he actually sounds a lot like Talon.

"Hi…"

"Look, I know you're upset, and this shit isn't cool. I'll have a talk with him, 'kay? I'll set his ass straight that he can't pull this shit now that he's married."

"Well, he's an adult, so I can't tell him what to do. But honestly, this is not something I want to deal with, and he knows it."

"Trust me, he needs a kick in the ass. He's partied enough; it's time to grow up. Letting you leave the club in the middle of the night is shitty. He's going to get an earful over it."

"Yeah, it kinda was. I've been freaking out all morning. I thought something terrible happened to him or he went home with someone else."

"No, he was just stoned stupid and drunk."

"Terrific."

"Do you want to come get him? He's asleep on the couch. Or I'll bring him home."

Taking a deep breath, I switch the phone over to my other ear. "Ya know what? If you don't mind, you can bring him home. I don't think I want to be in a car with him when I'm still so mad at him."

"Good call, sweetheart. Don't worry, okay? He really cares about you. This is just a bump in the road."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm always right," he teases. "I'll have him home in a little while."

"Thank you, Storm, for looking out for him."

"Of course, he's my baby brother. I spent most of my life looking out for him. I'll see ya soon."

I end the call and run my hand through my hair, relief and frustration coursing through me. I really hope this is not a sign of habits to come because I do not want to be one of those women who is constantly worrying where her man is or what he's doing. That kind of stress will eat me alive, and I never would have married someone that I knew drank, did drugs, and didn't come home. Again, I want to have an epic freak-out on the team for setting me up with him. Why would they do this?

My feelings for him are definitely growing, but that just makes this even harder. I don't want to fall in love with someone who is eventually going to hurt me or has a substance abuse problem. I watched that kind of behavior destroy my family, my childhood, and almost my own life if I had let it.

Needing to keep my mind busy, I shut myself in my workroom and make a list of the soap orders I have to make next week. Then I sit on the floor and sort through all the random fabrics I have, trying to figure out what I can use to make some more cool stage clothes for the guys.

I'm lost in my thoughts when I hear the front door open and close and his heavy footsteps come down the hall, stopping in front of my closed door.

"Asia?" He knocks softly on the door. "Are you in there?"

"Yes."

"Can I come in?"

"It's your house."

He comes in and hesitates by the door, still wearing the same clothes, but looking pretty disheveled. "It's
our
house," he mumbles, his voice scratchy.

"Whatever." I start tossing my fabric back into the plastic storage boxes.

"I hate that word."

My hands still for a moment. "Let's not get started on what we each hate, Talon. I'm pretty sure my list is longer than yours right now."

"No doubt." He crosses the room and sits in the chair a few feet away from me. "Are you packing?" he asks.

"Should I be?"

"No."

Shaking my head, I shut the lids on the boxes a little too loudly. "No, I'm not packing. I was seeing what fabric I had in case you or anyone in your band really wanted me to make them some clothes."

"Of course we do."

"Great." Standing, I turn to leave the room, but he grabs my hand.

"Asia, please talk to me."

Pulling my hand out of his, I cross my arms and stare out the window, thinking how much it sucks to be so happy to see someone but also so pissed off at them at the same time. The struggle is real.

"What do you want me to say? Thanks for letting me come home alone? Thanks for letting me sit here and worry about you? Thanks for doing all the things I've worked so hard to get out of my life?"

"I'm sorry."

"I hate that word." I throw back at him.

He nods slowly, his head hanging down. "You have every right to be mad, baby—"

"Do
not
call me baby right now."

"Okay. I know I fucked up bad, and I'm sorry. The last thing I want to do is hurt you or make you mad at me. You do know that, right?"

"I think so."

"Don't think that,
know
that."

"Then show it."

He slowly lifts his head to meet my eyes, and he honestly looks like crap. Bloodshot eyes, messy hair, dark circles under his eyes. I quickly look away, not wanting to see him this way.

"I can't even look at you," I utter softly. "You look terrible."

"I feel terrible, but mostly about fucking things up between us. I didn't plan on that happening. It's just what I've always kinda done, ya know? We play, then we party after. I never had a reason not to, but now I do."

"And yet you still did it."

"You're right, and I know it was wrong. And I know sorry doesn't do shit right now, but I am sorry. I understand that drugs and alcohol are something I have to give up to make this work with you—and for me to be successful at anything, really. Storm is right. It's time for me to grow up and get away from that shit. I know I'm not perfect or in any way even fucking close, but I do care, and I am trying."

"I know that, Tal. I see it. I just can't have someone who uses drugs and alcohol in my life. I hate to say this, but if it's something you're going to continue, then we have to end this."

"I know, and I respect you for that."

I take a deep breath and exhale, my body shuddering. I don't want this to end already, not when we've only just started and have so far to go.

I drift toward the window and look out over our beautiful backyard where a squirrel is bouncing around among the shrubs. "I feel like every time we make some progress, we go back a step."

He rises and moves to stand behind me. "Isn't that normal?"

"Yeah, I suppose it is. I keep forgetting we've only been together about a month. It feels longer than that in some strange way."

His arms come around me from behind, and he holds me against his broad chest. "It does." He presses his lips against my ear. "I'm sorry. I'll be better, I promise," he whispers.

I close my eyes and try to let his words seep into me, to convince me that they're true.

Clasping my hands over his arms, I sink back into him and turn my head into his chest. "I hope so. I need you to be the one I can trust, no matter what," I say softly and then slowly unravel myself from him. "You should go take a shower. I'm going to finish this up."

He takes a few steps toward the door and then pauses. "For what it's worth, I loved having you there last night. I've never had someone who was mine there to see me play. And you looked gorgeous, Aze. Even now, standing there in just a T-shirt and sweats and no makeup, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Yeah, I still think you're cute, but you're beautiful too, which is a really fucked-up combination. And even more than any of that, you're amazing on the inside, and that's something I've never had. If that makes any fucking sense."

With that painfully honest confession, he leaves the room.

L
ater when I
check my email and social media accounts, I'm bombarded with over a hundred new likes on my soap-making page, over two hundred new likes on my clothes-making page, and eighty-nine new friend requests on my personal profile.

"What the…?" I say to myself, trying to process why I suddenly have this monstrous interest in my itty-bitty business ventures. Then I realize the photos of Talon and me from the show last night were posted on the Ashes & Embers pages and also tagged on Talon's fan page. Also, the guy who asked me the questions typed up a brief article about our recent marriage, my name, and what I do. It seems like fans of the band have jumped over to my page and, holy shit…they are messaging me for orders for soap and clothes.

Oh my God.

I've never had so many orders. Ever.

I can't scan the emails and private messages fast enough—most of them raving about how much they loved Talon's clothes and have checked my photos of past designs and want to order something similar or entirely new.

I navigate over to Talon's page and click on the photo of us together, first saving it to my laptop because it's actually a great photo, and then reading the comments, which are mostly sweet and supportive, congratulating us. Just as Evie warned, there are also a few nasty comments, mostly from women saying I'm a gold digger, I'm ugly, he can do better, this won't last, I'm ruining him, and offering sexual favors. Terrific.

I have no idea how I'll ever get through all these emails and messages, let alone process all these orders. A mixture of fear and excitement comes over me as I read a few of the messages, shocked that they really seem to genuinely like my designs. This is like another dream come true for me. People actually want to buy my fashion designs and wear them. And my bath products!

Pixie jumps up on my desk and rubs on my arm, which prompts me to check her little blog page, and I'm blown away again. There are even more comments and page likes for her!

I pick her up and kiss her head. "Pixie, you're even more famous!"

Carrying the cat, I go upstairs to find Talon sitting on the love seat in the bedroom, writing in his journal.

"Tal, I have a zillion new likes on my pages and more orders than I can count."