Page 24 of Wasted Lust

I think being asked to reflect on my future was a warning shot in the chest that life is about to change. Some sort of catalyst that will propel me towards my true purpose.

Or maybe this rejection will send me spiraling down into a black abyss of self-loathing and discontent?

But if it does, it will be a hell of my own making. Because I have the means right now, tonight—this moment, actually—to start a new life. To find the answers I crave and get them from the man who left me ten years ago.

I need Nick. And maybe we’re not soulmates. Maybe that promise was empty and he always knew that. But if so, then why is he looking for me? Why seek me out after all these years?

I need Nick.

And my path to Nick—my path to my future—lies through Jax.

So I look at the line of cosmetics on my vanity and start my transformation. Concealer first. Then powder, eyeshadow, brows, liner, mascara, and finally lipstick. I put on the mask.

My reflection in the mirror is not me.

And that’s OK.

I’m tired of being me.

I get up and walk to the dress. I could wear my own dress. I have so many nice things in my closet. But why? Why be me when I can be her? The woman I always dreamed I’d turn into? Why not let Jax help me make this change tonight?

I slip the dress on, tame my hair with a brush, and then slide my feet into the shoes that came in the bag.

I’m done being Sasha Aston. She’s boring and sad. She’s scared and confused.

But Sasha Cherlin was none of those things. Sasha Cherlin was strong, and brave, and filled with life.

I want to live again.

When I’m ready I walk downstairs to the security room and unlock the door using the keypad attached to the wall. This is my safe room where I can check surveillance cameras placed in strategic locations on the property. I have most of the rooms wired with cameras too, just as a precaution.

I live by the Boy Scout motto.

I scan all the cameras, just like I do every morning and every evening, then check the computer attached to the cameras for any flagged moments. There are none—I would get a text message on my phone telling me if there were—but I’m overly paranoid these days. It’s possible my messaging system could be offline. And I have several levels of suspicious programmed into the alerts. I don’t get bothered with people who walk down the alley and don’t linger, but I look at them anyway when I have time.

There aren’t any to look at in the back. But Jax and I come up on a screen at the front door when he walked me home. I have a sensor on an anklet I wear at all times. It’s a tracker and ID code and it sends my GPS location to this computer every thirty minutes and logs me in and out of my house automatically as I enter and exit.

Just in case.

I didn’t tell Merc about this. Or my dad, for that matter. They don’t need to know that I’m so worried about this stuff. It would only upset them. Especially Merc, since he feels responsible for what happened to me two years ago.

A feeling of dread washes over me as that moment flashes into my head and then my stomach churns, making me feel sick.

All my life I was the one in control. The girl who knew things. The girl with skills.

But that day I was abducted by a crazy man and held hostage for two days was an awakening that changed my life.

Never before had I felt so vulnerable. Never before had I felt so helpless. I was a child assassin. I killed several people over the course of my short career. Grown men and one teenage girl. I can still hear the gunfire as I took out those men when they came to kill me on my grandparents’ ranch. I can still feel the cold knife handle in my palm when I threw it, striking that girl’s throat and ending her life in a horrifying way. Choking on her own blood.

I don’t regret any of that. Not one moment.

But my badass confidence did nothing for me the night that bastard Garrett drugged me and took me as his prisoner. He threatened me with rape. Had started taking off my clothes, even. Only some predetermined alert that beeped on his phone stopped him.

Luck. The fact that he never got his chance to take me like that, it was all luck.

I don’t like luck. You can’t depend on luck.

I like cameras, and guns placed all over the house. And martial arts training. I’ve had a trainer for years. Long before all that Garrett stuff happened. But it was only to keep my skills up.