I heaved a heavy sigh as we arrived at the door of my penthouse. Even after the police, after Mason, Ryder and I patched up the hole in the front window, after Lita sat and soothed her with words and tea, I could tell that Dylan was still on edge, still uncomfortable in her own home. So, I did the only think I could think of: I took her to my place. She'd never been there, and in the last few weeks I hadn't spent more than a few hours inside of it myself, but it wasn't her house and the security in my building was rather intense, or at least far more than at her house. You could only get to my floor by keycard access, and to get said card, I needed to authorize the person at the desk. Ryder had one, but other than that I couldn't think of anyone that did. Not my father, no other friends. I honestly couldn't tell you if Bridget even had one or not, so it was safe, at least for the night.
I pushed open the door and set down Noodle, who had been tucked in my arms since he'd passed out in my car on the way over. He immediately started scurrying around, sniffing everything, trying to familiarize himself with his new surroundings. I dropped my duffle in the doorway as I watched him and clicked on the lights, before turning for my girl, who was standing, just... kind of frozen in the doorway.
"Baby, it's okay..." I said softly.
Dylan shook her head. "No, it's not..." She paused. "I'm just kind of soaking it in."
I chuckled a bit, watching as her eyes darted around every inch of the penthouse. The floor plan was wide open, the kitchen only separated from the dining room by a breakfast counter. Large glass windows revealed almost the entirety of the Chicago skyline, which at the current moment was nothing but dark sky and city lights. Everything within these walls was modern: sleek, white, and stainless steel. I had little to no decorations, nothing that made it feel like a home. A fact I'd only noticed when I started spending my time at Dylan's.
"What are you thinking?" I asked as she finally stepped over the threshold and into the foyer.
"It's not you," she stated simply.
"What do you mean?"
She shook her head a bit, her gaze still dancing around the nearly bare apartment. "You, your personality is... so warm and inviting. Cozy," she began. "This doesn't feel like you. It feels cold."
"I can see that," I agreed with a nod, glancing around as she did. "Though I can't say I've ever thought of myself as cozy."
Dylan chuckled a bit, the closest thing to a laugh I'd gotten out of her since everything went to shit. "You are," she insisted. "I felt comfortable with you the instant I met you."
That made me smile. "I'm glad, baby," I stated, stepping toward her, and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. She relaxed into my chest almost instantly as I leaned forward and pressed my lips to the top of her head. "I never want you to feel anything but comfortable with me."
"I know, Ash. I do, I promise," Dylan insisted, her words muffled against my chest. "Tonight's just been kind of an uncomfortable night."
"I know," I stated. I lifted one hand and placed my index finger under her chin, causing her gaze to meet mine. "What can I do? How can I make you feel better?"
The sweetest smile curled her lips at the corners. "You do that just by existing, Mr. Wilde."
"Mm, so smooth, you." I dipped my chin again and this time pressed my lips to hers, a quiet little sigh escaping her when they met.
After I pulled away, her grin widened even more. "Me, smooth? You're the one that's just been casually calling me his girlfriend for the last few hours, even though we've never had that conversation even once."
"Do we need to?" I retorted; an eyebrow arched in question. "Kinda thought it was a given."
"Oh, you were just gonna walk around assuming I was your girlfriend without a word?" Dylan asked with a laugh. "That sounds dangerous."
"What are we? Fifteen?" I echoed her laugh. "Do I have to have some big elaborate scheme to ask you to prom?"
"No, but a little effort might be nice!" Dylan exclaimed with a bright smile.
Fuck. It felt like eons since I'd seen that smile. In reality it had only been a few hours, max, but... I wanted to keep it on her face, no matter the cost. So, playing along, I rolled my eyes as I sank down to a knee.
"NO!" Dylan shouted, giggling as she tried to pull her hand from my grasp. "Too much! Too much!"
I tried to fight my laughter as she squirmed and squealed. "Damn, first you tell me I have to ask you, and now I'm not asking you right? You're hard to please, woman."
"Oh, am I really?" Dylan retorted, rolling her molten chocolate-colored eyes.
"Well, not in all things... at least not for me."
"You're gross."
"You haven't complained even once in the last three weeks."
"Well, maybe I'm gross, too."
"Oh, I know that you are."
"Goddammit, Asher!" Dylan laughed. "Can you be serious?"
"Not right now." I grabbed her hand back and made like I was going to use her to pull myself up. Instead, however, I gave her a tug and pulled her down until my butt was flat on the floor and she was perched in my lap. She giggled brightly as I nibbled and nuzzled on every open space of skin I could find. I kissed her playfully everywhere: every inch of her face, her neck, the bit of her collarbone I could see. Everywhere but her lips, until I brought my face in line with hers, the tips of our noses brushing as her chest rose with heavy breaths. "So, you gonna be my girlfriend or what?"
Dylan smiled and waved her head. "And they say romance is dead."
"Girl, I will romance the shit outta you."
"Yeah?"
"Any time you want."
Dylan's gaze went soft, as did her smile. She pressed her forehead to mine and sighed. "What if I told you that you already have?" she asked, her voice as soft as the look in her eyes.
"Then I'd say you haven't seen anything yet," I responded just as quietly.
Dylan took a shaky breath in. The vibe in the room had almost instantly changed. It was no longer light, and joy filled, but quieter, and riddled with emotion. "Thank you."
"For what, sweetheart?" I asked, brushing back her hair and giving the tip of her nose a gentle kiss.
"Just... for everything," Dylan stated, her voice sounding a bit choked. "I don't know how I would've made it through tonight without you."
I watched as a tear glistened down her cheek. "Baby..."
"No, I'm serious," Dylan insisted, pushing forward even though her eyes were welled beyond their capacity. "You fucking ran downstairs without knowing what you were going into, you called the cops, you did like... all of the talking, you helped Mason and Ryder patch up the window even though you obviously had no idea what you were doing..."
"Hey!"
Dylan laughed a bit and shook her head, raising a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She took a deep breath and then looked at me. "You were... incredible, Asher and... I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you."
I gave her a pursed smile, and placed a hand on each of her cheeks, using my thumbs to whisk away her silent tears. "You don't have to, Dylan. I'd do it a thousand times over. If I could make all of this stop now, it would already be done."
Dylan's head waved from side to side as she looked up into the bright lighting above where we sat. "I just... do you really think it's Bridget? Do you think she would do this?"
"I honestly don't know, babe. I wish I could say that she was a better person than all of this, but... given her behavior since I ended it, I have my doubts, so... I don't know. I really don't."
"Why didn't you tell me about the text?"
I gulped. Yeah. I figured that would be coming. Obviously, I'd informed the police of the message I'd gotten the first night I stayed over, but to be honest, until they were asking questions, I'd kind of forgotten about it. I was so wrapped up in this girl and being around her and falling for her, that... it just didn't seem to matter. "I kind of forgot about it, honestly," I answered. "At first, I didn't because I didn't want to worry you, but then... I spaced it. I probably would've brought it up if you would've told me what really happened to your car."
Dylan winced a bit. "Yeah... I probably should've mentioned that. I just wanted to forget it happened, but it doesn't look like that plan is going to work," she sighed.
"No, I'm afraid not," I sighed, tucking her hair behind her ears. "We need to be better at this. Someone is not happy about us, and whether that's Brock, or Bridget or... someone we haven't thought of, we need to be honest with each other. It's the only way for me to even try to keep you safe."
Dylan nodded; her eyes focused on the nail polish she was picking off. "You're right."
"We're going to figure this out, baby. I promise," I stated. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, okay?" Her head just bobbed up and down again, but I heard a sniffle. "Hey. C'mere." I pulled her tightly into my arms and just held her, as once again in this shitty night, she cried. I hated it. I understood, obviously, but I hated it. My Dylan was so full of life, and smiles and joy, and seeing her break like she had this evening was ripping my heart out. "I am going to do everything I can, okay? I've got a lot of contacts around this city, and I'll call every single one of them in if that's what it takes, but I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You hear me?" She remained silent but her head moved against my shoulder. "Tomorrow I'm going to talk to the security guys here and see if they can set something up at your place."
Her head rose slowly as she met my eyes. "You want to put cameras at my house?"
"I think we have to at this point, baby. We need to figure out who's doing this, and... if they're going to keep doing shit at your place, then a camera is the best way to do that." Dylan didn't look convinced and sighed. "Just let me look into it, okay? I'll ask before I do anything, but... I really think it's the best idea."
Slowly her head moved up and down. "Okay." She took a deep breath, one that raised her shoulders to her ears. "Okay. If you think that's what's best, I trust you."
"Thank you, baby," I stated, brushing her hair from her face, and pressing my lips to her temple. We just sat there like that for a moment: her in my arms, my lips against the side of her head. After a few beats, I took a breath. "We should probably try to get some sleep. It's been a long day."
Dylan nodded and climbed to her feet, stretching her arms above her head as she once again looked around my place. After a few seconds, while I was trying to get myself off the ground, I heard her laugh.
"What?" I asked as I rose behind her, but she didn't have to answer. My eyes found exactly what had made her chuckle the second I stood up. Laying in the corner of my sofa, curled in some pillows and a throw blanket that I don't think I had ever touched, laid a snoozing Noodle, snoring like he was getting the best sleep of his life. I chuckled and wrapped my arms around Dylan's waist from behind. "Seems like someone made himself at home."
"He's a terrible houseguest."
"Nah, I like it. Means he's comfortable here," I stated, brushing a kiss against her cheekbone. "Maybe his Momma will have to help me make this place a little more... home-y."
Dylan smiled as I took her hand and pulled her down the hall toward my bedroom. "You want Halloween House Number Two?"
I gritted my teeth into a tight smile. "I don't know about that... but we could make it a little cozier."
"We're never going to be able to live together if you don't get onboard with Halloween House."
"I guess we'll just have to compromise, huh?"
I awoke the next morning around eight a.m. I let Dylan sleep as I took a shower and made some coffee. I wanted to get down to the apartment office to talk to the head of security before the day got much later. I'd lived in this building ever since I'd graduated law school, so I knew everyone here fairly well. At least the workers. Trent was about my age and led the building's team. I knew they were contracted from some security company that had accounts all over Chicago, so I figured if there was anyone that could help me out, it was him.
However, just as I opened my front door to head downstairs, my father stepped off the elevator. An elevator he shouldn't even have been able to get into because I had never given the man a key card.
"How the hell..." I started as I stepped into the hallway.
My dad held out the key. "Bridget thought you might want this back."
"They're not exactly hotel keys. You're not just supposed to pass them around," I snapped, yanking the card from his hand. I then thought a beat. "I never gave Bridget a keycard. How did she..."
"Your birthday last year? She threw you a surprise party? Wasn't it here?" my dad answered.
I nodded as I thought back. It was. Bridget had told me she wanted to do something special for my birthday so I'd gotten her a key, not realizing she would have thirty of her friends in my apartment, or that she would never return said key. I guess at least I had it back now.
"Well, thanks for returning this, but I was just heading out..."
"We need to talk," Alexander stated.
"This isn't a good time."
He scoffed. "What else could you possibly have to do?" He smirked at me condescendingly for a moment before his eyes locked on something just over my shoulder.
"Ash?"
Fuck. Dylan.
"Baby, go back to bed," I stated firmly, not even turning to look at her.
"Ah, this must be the lovely Dylan," my father said with a sickeningly charming smile as he all but shoved past me. "I'm Alexander Wilde, Ash's father."
I closed my eyes and sighed before turning back into my apartment. My father walked up to Dylan and extended a hand, but hers just remained wrapped around herself. She met my eyes, obviously unsure of what to do.
"Dad, this isn't really a good time," I stated. "We had a rough night and Dylan needs to get some rest."
"Oh no. What happened?" my father asked, faking concern more than he had for any other aspect of my life in the last twenty years.
"Nothing you need to worry about," I stated through gritted teeth. "If there's something you and I need to discuss, we can do that later, but I need you..."
"Oh, relax, boy," he interrupted. "I just want to meet the new lady in my son's life." He turned back to Dylan and gave her a way-too long once over.
It made my stomach churn in all honesty. I wanted this man to have nothing to do with Dylan. If I couldn't keep her safe from anything else, I had been hoping to keep her safe from him. But now, here he stood, in the middle of my apartment, his eyes glued to the tan, tattooed legs that came out the bottom of the oversized Tshirt Dylan wore. He looked at women like they were a piece of meat, a prize to be won, and the way he was looking at her proved that he thought her another of the same.
"What do you do, Dylan?" Alexander's voice snapped me from my blood-boiling daze. "Ash hasn't told me much about you."
"I don't imagine that was an accident," Dylan almost snarled.
That's my girl.
"We should go get breakfast!" my dad suddenly exclaimed, wrapping an arm around Dylan's shoulders that she immediately shrugged off. Unfortunately, it didn't faze him. "Get to know each other a bit."
"Dad, seriously," I laughed, stabbing my fingers through my hair, and almost yanking some out with frustration. "I don't know what the fuck you're playing at here, but Dylan knows everything. Your little smarmy, rich man act isn't going to work on her, so just fucking drop it, alright?"
My father's demeanor changed almost instantly. He stood straight and tall, trying to puff his chest to look threatening. I, however, had learned long ago, that the last thing my father was, was threatening. He was just a scared, alone, old man, throwing his weight around to try and prove just how important he was.
"I want the files you took from your office," he stated. "Those are company property, a company YOU no longer work for. You're lucky I don't press charges."
"Fine." I headed over to the coffee table where I'd dropped the few boxes I'd taken from the office and never looked at again. I dug to the bottom and found the binder of contacts I'd stuffed in. "Here. Take them. I don't fucking care. Just... go now."
"This is really what you want to do?" Alexander asked, snatching the navy binder from my hand. "You're really prepared to throw your whole life away?"
"What life?" I asked with a laugh. "I've lived more in the last month and a half without you than I had in the previous twenty-nine years. Trust me: I'm good."
My father chuckled darkly as he strode toward the front door. "Be careful, Asher. The world is not what you think it is." His eyes once again landed on Dylan, and I knew he was more trying to degrade her than the world. "She sure does wrap up nice though."
"Get the fuck out!" I shouted, stomping toward him, and yanking the door open. "Get out and don't fucking come back. My life and I what I do with it, is no longer your fucking concern."
My father just smirked, as if he knew something no one else in the room did. "Keep that in mind, boy. Keep that in mind when you lose everything."
"Is that a threat?"
"You should know by now that I don't make threats," he stated as he walked out the door and then turned back to face me. "These things just... have a way of working themselves out, don't they?"
"Get out."
"Good luck in your new life, Asher. You and the girl are going to need it."
I slammed the door in his face, instantly wrenching the deadbolt closed before I turned back to Dylan, her face pale, and eyes wife. "He's a fucking piece of shit..."
"He's terrifying," she stated. "What's he talking about? What does he know?"
"Nothing! I haven't told him anything!" I exclaimed. "I never even told him your name! I haven't spoken to him since I walked out of the office..."
"I know, Ash, but he... does he always talk like that?"
I began to pace as I drug my hands down my face. "Like what, baby?" I asked, already exhausted from the few hours I had been awake.
"Asher, come on," Dylan said with a laugh. "Do you think he's involved?"
My face scrunched in confusion, and I shook my head. "Do I think my dad's the one breaking your windows?"
"I mean..."
"No," I shook my head. "My dad's a piece of shit, yes, but he wouldn't do that. Fuck, it would involve more manual labor than that man's ever fucking done."
"Are you sure?"
I sighed again and looked to the ceiling. "No. No, I'm honestly not sure. I'm not fucking sure of anything right now."
"Baby, breathe," Dylan said softly as her bare feet padded toward me. "Don't let him get you so worked up."
"Why the fuck would he just show up here? He's literally never been here and now, after I walk out, is when he decides to show up?"
"I don't know, babe. I don't get it either."
I ran my tongue over my teeth and nodded. "I'm calling a private investigator."
Dylan blinked at me like I'd slapped her or something. "What?"
"I'm going to get someone on this. I'm going to have him look into all three of them, because I don't fucking know which way to look any more..."
"Asher..."
"I'm not asking for permission, Dylan. I'm doing it. And I'm going to go talk to Trent about installing cameras..."
"You said..."
"Stop," I interrupted with a growl. Dylan stared at me wide-eyed, and I winced at my own tone. Take a breath. Calm down, I told myself. "Baby, I need to do this. We have to figure this out before something else happens, okay? Whomever is doing this isn't just going to go away, and you saw how the cops acted last night. They think we're overreacting. The only way shit is going to get done is if I do it."
"Okay," Dylan stated with a solitary nod. "Okay. If that's what you think is best, then do it, Ash. I'm not going to stop you."
"Thank you." I wrapped my arms around her so tightly it was like I was trying to pull her inside of me. Maybe that would keep her safe. Maybe if I just never left her side, I could make all of this go away. Maybe...
I had no fucking idea what I was going to do, but I knew that I would try everything under the goddamn sun if it meant all of this going away.
I just wanted all of this to go away.