Page 106 of Wicked Heat

There’s no Ash, though, and a stab of panic cuts through me until I remember that he’s at a meeting. That’s when relief flows through me. I don’t want him here. Not now.

Not while my thoughts are so scrambled and confused that I’m not even sure what I’m thinking or what this hard knot of fear in my belly is all about.

Slowly, I scoot back until I’m leaning against the headboard, the pillow clutched in my lap. I thought they were gone, these nightmares. I thought that Ash had galloped into my life on a white steed and vanquished the demons that have haunted my dreams for years. And if not Ash, then surely the arrests three days ago would have vanquished those dreams. Everyone involved in the kidnapping is dead. Everyone involved in the blackmail has been caught. Ash’s money was credited back to his account.

I draw in a shaky breath.

I was wrong. So damn wrong.

Because this isn’t about Ash. It isn’t even about Rory or Kari.

It’s about me.

I’d slept with Rory. I’d trusted Kari.

Even Maggie. I’d never liked her, but I also never suspected the true depths of the bitch who hid underneath.

I can’t trust my own judgment and now my subconscious is telling me to run. That Ash is wrong for me. Or we’re moving too fast, or that he’s going to hurt me somehow.

I don’t know. And maybe that’s the point.

Because until I can trust myself, how can I trust anyone else?

I realize that tears are streaming down my face and I brush them away with a violent sweep of my hand.

As much as I think I want to love Ash, I have to go.

Because first and foremost, I need to take care of me.

Thirty-Two

“Why are you avoiding me?” Aria demands when I finally answer her call. “I’ve left five messages. Ash is burning up my phone because he can’t find you, and you left without saying a word.”

“I left him a note,” I say, blinking back tears.

“He told me. A note that said you couldn’t do it. That you couldn’t trust yourself. Bree, honey, what the hell is going on?”

“I needed space.”

“I’ve seen the tabloid pictures of you two. There was like zero space between you, and you both look blissfully happy.”

I was. We were. But I don’t say that out loud.

“Come on, it’s me. Tell me what’s going on. I mapped you. I know you’re in New York. But didn’t you tell me just last night that you and Ash were going to head back to LA for a few days, then turn back around for Austin? Although why you were so excited to help renovate his house when there’s so much work to do on this one is beyond me. Except it’s not,” she adds, “because Ash. So, what the hell happened?”

I pull my bare feet up onto the chaise in my parents’ sitting area and hug my knees. “Plans change.”

“Dammit, Bree, it’s me.”

“I just—I just want to be home when my parents get back from the cruise.”

“Uh-huh. And they’re not home for another three days.”

“Yeah, well, my agent set up a signing in Manhattan, too.”

“I know. You forwarded the text yesterday. That’s almost a week away.”

“I want to get situated. Clean the house for Mom and Dad. And I want to talk to talk to Daddy’s doctors so I can research protocols.