Page 103 of Ash and Poison

I slowed down, sharpening my ears.

“Well? What did you mean then?” Her voice was sarcastic as fuck. If words could cut, Vincent would have lost an inch or two right now.

He said something under his breath, and Diya shook her head, before she stormed toward the car, and glared at me.

“Are you a fucking snail?” She opened the door, slid into the driver seat, and opened the door to the passenger side for me. “Get the fuck in. Let’s go.”

“Are you really angry?”

“What do you think? You assaulted him with a fucking fork,” she said, her voice incredulous.

“I forked him.”

She glared at me.

“Shutting up. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I just hate to see him grabbing you like…”

“Grabbing me? He wasn’t fucking grabbing me. He took my hand, and Asher, if it was any other time, any other day, I would’ve loved to see you make a mess, I would have even cheered when Vincent handcuffed you, but…”

“You wouldn’t cheer,” I cut her off, and she glared, eyes spilling poison.

“If you act like a reckless fucker, it will only solidify Vincent’s suspicion against you.”

“I don’t care,” I snapped. “He deserved that fork in his hand.”

“How can you not care? You came here to avenge Riley’s murder. You’re not done yet, Asher.”

“Because when he touched you, I just... I lost it.”

She looked bewildered. “What the hell are you saying, Asher?”

“I meant what I said. I don’t like it when someone else covets what’s mine.”

She scoffed. “You’re unbelievable. It was… it wasn’t—fuck. It arouses me when you try to be dominant during sex, but this isn’t the time.”

I glared at her. “It wasn’t just some nonsense I spouted in the heat of the moment, Diya. I’m glad it arouses you, but I meant every word I said.”

“That you’d break the hand of a man who touches me?”

I nodded with a shrug. “Yes. And that you belong only to me until the debt is paid.”

The fucking debt is never going to be paid. I’ll make sure of that.

She shook her head.

“So… you won’t be going on a date with him, right? I mean, after he accused you of being my accomplice, any self-respecting—”

“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll feed you the fruits of nightshade, and you’ll never be able to talk.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but I heard the warning loud and clear.

“Okay, okay.”

No response.

“I’m sorry, okay. I am sorry.”

“You put yourself at risk, Ash. For what?”

For her. And I’d do it again and again.