Page 110 of Gravity

Fucking bastard.

I cut him a glare of disgust as he holds the bridge of his nose, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. My hand stings and my jaw and ribs ache like a bitch, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that I’m suffering.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Asher growls. “Nora, what the fuck?”

“Where the hell have you been?”

I keep my eyes on Asher, waiting for him to answer her question, but I can feel the wrath radiating from Nora’s body. Her tiny frame trembles under my touch, and I know she is doing everything within her power not to break in front of him.

“Nora, listen.”

“Where the hell have you been!” she screams.

“California.” He says it in a tone that comes across as if he’s not bothered. “I came right back when I found out my best fucking friend had betrayed me,” he says, looking directly at me with bitterness.

“Found out from who? We’ve been trying to contact you for weeks and we’ve got nothing. Who told you? Was it Mark?” I ask, knowing that Dixon wouldn’t break my trust when he flew out to find him but unsure how he found out at all.

“Why the fuck would Twilight tell me.” His eyes widen and reality hits. “Wait. He fucking knows about you two, too?”

“Answer the question, Asher,” Nora grits.

“No. Mark never told me. I’ve not even seen him in Cali.”

I frown, wanting to know who he’s been in contact with when he’s abandoned everyone else. “So, who?”

"Lacy. She’s kept me up to date with everything back here."

“Oh my God,” Nora gasps.

“She had her suspicions long before I came back, but it was that cozy little time in your office that sealed the deal.” A sick laugh radiates from his throat. “After that, I got some nice snap shots of the two of you sent to my phone.”

Bile rises in my throat. The sneaky little bitch.

I take a step forward wanting to smack the fucker again, but Nora’s grip on my arm stops me from going further.

She is silent at my side, but I can’t remain muted like she is. She may be stunned at his words, but I’m fucking savage. "So, you miss your own father's funeral, yet you hear I'm sleeping with your sister and you're on the first flight home? Well, I guess you’ve got your priorities right."

"Fuck you,” he spits. “You can’t say shit like that when you’re in the wrong here.”

“I’m in the wrong? Have you fucking heard yourself?”

“You don't know anything."

"I know you're a fucking mess. Look at you!" I point. “You can’t even stand up straight. You run at a time when your family needed you the most. Meanwhile, I had to step in and support them. So no, Asher. I’m not in the wrong, I never have been.”

He holds my stare, and I can see that my words have cut deep. However, he fights back like I knew he would and instead of explaining his actions regarding his father, he turns the questions back to my relationship with Nora.

"When did it start?" he growls.

“Have you really come back here just because of me and Nora? Don’t you think you have bigger things to sort out Asher?”

"When?" he roars, now standing. It’s only now that I get a clear look at him. His eyes are bloodshot, his face pale as he hides behind his new, untamed beard. His once solid frame seems to have lost the definition it once had, yet the power behind his punch is still very much there. His clothes look like he’s been wearing them for days, and his hands and knuckles are covered in cuts and scabs—not just from our fight. They are old wounds. He’s a mess and the state of him hits me hard in the chest because I feel like I’ve failed him when he’s needed me the most.

“When did it start?”

I swallow. Whatever I say won’t be the answer he’s wanting, so I go with the truth.

Nora steps in, though, and finally speaks before sitting herself on the edge of the bed. "The night of Dad’s first seizure."