Page 120 of Scandal
“But Isobel said?—”
“Isobel’s family is penniless, and her parents are pressuring her to land a rich husband and pay off their debts. She’ll probably say and do anything to get you out of the way.”
My mouth gapes open. “You think she’s still making a play for you?”
“Until tonight, I hadn’t. But when security ran a background check, and I saw her family’s financials?—”
A memory of Isobel complaining about all the security protocols she had to go through to get into Blackstone flashes through my mind. “You did a background check on her?”
“Yes.”
“Is that typical?”
He looks away. “No.”
“Ash, what aren’t you telling me?” When he turns back around, his face is full of silent torment. “What could be so bad that you’d rather see me walk out the door than simply talk to me?”
His Adam’s apple bobs as his attention turns back toward the suitcases by the door. “What if I tell you and it scares you away even more?”
I take a step toward him, then another, until we’re standing face-to-face. “We’re in this together, remember? Whatever happens, we can handle it.”
“I can’t lose you,” he says, his voice breaking as he finally closes the gap between us and pulls me into his arms.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him as I nuzzle into his shoulder. “Even when I was packing, I knew those bags weren’t going anywhere.” It’s true. I may have cried over every shirt and pair of jeans I put in there, but packing was all I managed. I didn’t call my parents. I sure as hell didn’t book plane tickets.
“I wouldn’t have been able to let you go anyway,” he says, his grip on me tightening. I smile, but it wavers when the next words out of his mouth are, “It’s not safe.”
ASHER
“Not safe?” she repeats the words to herself. “What do you mean?”
Talk to her,I tell myself.Before you lose her.
I swallow a bundle of nerves and take her hand, guiding us to the bed. I need to sit down if we’re going to have this conversation.
Her worried gaze meets mine as she turns toward me and waits for me to speak. She’s so damn beautiful. Her long chestnut-brown hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, with tiny tendrils framing her heart-shaped face. Those sapphire eyes of hers watch me as I take a deep breath and try to suppress the rising panic and irrational thoughts that threaten to take over.
What if she decides I’m not worth it?
What if she’s scared and I can’t be enough for her?
I take a deep breath. “A few weeks ago, I received a text from an unknown caller. It was a vague threat, and I dismissed it as nothing.”
Her brows furrow. “That’s when you got a new phone, right?”
I nod. “I’ve had to change my number many times over the years because the wrong person got hold of it. So I didn’t think much of it when it happened again.”
“But I’m guessing from the serious tone of this conversation that it did happen again?”
I simply nod.
“When?” she asks.
“The first text came the day after we got home from the cottage in the Highlands,” I tell her, hesitating before I go on. “There were pictures.”
Her eyes widen. “Like the ones your agent leaked?”
“No. These were photos of us.” Her eyes start to panic. I know where her mind is headed. “Nothing intimate, Merc.”
