Page 95 of Burn With Me

He was used to taking care of everything, whereas I liked to do things for myself. Asher’s need for control in all areas was going to be a challenge for me. I can see us locking horns over this at some point. Mind you, the smiles and excitement everyone had over ‘my gifts’ was as exciting as me seeing what I’d gotten them.

“Monica, you in here?”

I poked my head into the room that somehow looked even more like Christmas had exploded inside the walls, but I didn’t see her anywhere. I couldn’t picture her leaving a boiling pot on the stove, and an eerie feeling crept down my spine. I was being ridiculous. She probably just had to run to the bathroom or decided to get changed.

With each footfall toward the other end of the house, my nerves became more frayed. Why was I so nervous? Shaking it off, I poked my head in the first door where Sabrina and Andrew were staying.

“Monica?”

Moving on, I knocked on the closed washroom door.

“Monica, are you in there?”

There was no reply, and I turned the handle to find the door unlocked and the light off. I swatted the light switch and jumped back, but the room was empty. My heart was hammering inside my chest, and horror movies and serial killers kept playing through my mind regardless of the sun streaming through the window.

The next room was Lizzy’s master bedroom, which now held a whole new meaning for me. I smirked at the thought of Asher making me call him Master. The room was as bright and colorful as the owner, but there was still no Monica.

Had she left and forgotten the pot was on?

“Monica?” I called out as I reached the room where she was staying with Sylvia. All was quiet, she wasn’t lying down, and my concern spiked.

Marching back toward the front of the house, a door that I’d assumed was a closet opened just as I was passing by, and I screamed and jumped back, making Monica scream and grab for the railing.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” I said and grabbed for her arm, so she didn’t tumble down the stairs.

“You just scared the shit out of me,” she said, laying a hand over her heart.

“Same. I couldn’t find you and had all sorts of crazy thoughts racing through my head,” we both laughed.

“The cold cellar is downstairs. You can’t hear anything down in that room.” She held up a canvas bag. “I was missing some vegetables.” My heart returned to normal as Monica flicked off the light and closed the door. “Were you needing me?”

“No, I was just wondering if you needed me. I feel terrible that you’re cooking this massive meal on your own.”

Monica laughed.

“Don’t feel bad. First, I hate the boat. To be honest, I hate the water, too. I decided to do the restaurant on the yacht because it came at a great price and was already outfitted with an amazing kitchen. I know crazy, but I don’t notice the water on the big boat. Not being able to see more than a couple of inches down into the water freaks me out, but Sabrina made everyone go after Lizzy moved here, and it has become a tradition.”

Monica shrugged as she cut vegetables at a lightning-quick pace. I stared at her hand with my mouth hanging open. I’d have been here for days trying to get it all cut, but it seemed like seconds, and most of the vegetables lay in small pieces on the cutting board. She tossed a small piece of carrot into her mouth before turning to look at me with the massive knife in her hand.“Second, I love to cook. This is my passion and helps me escape from all the stress. With the business, IVF, and Sylvia struggling with the thought of it not working, this gives me time to collect myself.”

“All right, I’ll leave you to it then. If you need me, I will be taking a nap.” I held open the door and then stopped and turned to look at the woman who was already focused on her task.

“For whatever it’s worth, I hope that the IVF works. You two would make great parents.”

Monica turned and looked like she might cry, so I slipped out the door before things became awkward, or we both ended up bawling our eyes out.

Kids. The thought of kids had always horrified me. I wasn’t parenting material, or at least I thought. Now, I wasn’t so sure. I could picture having kids with Asher. I could picture them having his amazing eyes and a wicked smile that would let them get away with murder. I could also picture a very protective Asher scaring off any boys that came sniffing around our daughter.

Smiling, I stepped into the cottage. The hair stood on the back of my neck a moment before a thick arm wrapped around my throat. I’d taken self-defense, and I’d spent time training with all men, but as my windpipe constricted, my mind was blank other than sheer panic.

Slamming my elbow back, I caught the person in the gut. Other than a slight groan, it did nothing to loosen the grip. My eyes focused on the window across the small space, and I could see a large bear-like man looming behind me. My adrenaline spiked, giving me an extra boost. Kicking back, I caught the guy in the knee.

The groan was enough to tell me I’d injured him, which only encouraged me to bring my heel down on the top of his boot, but that only seemed to hurt me as sharp pain radiated up my leg. Shifting from left to right, I caught him again with a pair of elbows, and the arm released me just enough that I could turn in his grasp and use his massive chest to push off and break the last of his hold.

Stumbling back, I dashed for the bathroom, the only other spot with a door since the exit was blocked and I fumbled for my phone. For his size, he was fast, and with a maneuver that would’ve impressed any professional wrestler, the man snatched me by the hoodie of Asher’s I was wearing. He wrapped his other hand around my throat and slammed me to the floor.

I stared up into the dark hood as the leather glove tightened around my throat. Clawing at the arm didn’t do anything. I tried to get a good kick in and almost succeeded until he put a knee on my chest. Pain exploded throughout my body with the weight that felt like a boulder, and the lack of air told me I was dying. This man was going to kill me.

Reaching up, I kept trying to find a way to push this monster off me and somehow got a hold of the hood covering his face. I yanked it off, and the shock froze me in place as I stared into eyes that looked identical to Asher’s—taking in the dark hair and the scar on his cheek before finding his eyes again. This was the boy from Asher’s family picture I’d seen.