Chapter 27 The Shadow Between Us
Becca’s POV
Back in my apartment, everything felt smaller. My head pounded heavily due to my loud wails.
I rumbled through my bag to find the keys to my apartment.
The rain hadn’t stopped since evening. It's drops splash on my pavement rhythmic and angry; just like my thoughts.
I finally made my way in. The apartment was still in a mess. My clothes pile on the hallway and halfwashed dishes fill the sink.
I hadn't realized how comfortable I had become with Mark's company until now.
Now, all I could smell was dust and leftover paint from the repairs I never finished.
I kicked off my shoes by the door and wrapped my sweater tighter around me.
My hair was still damp from the rain, sticking to the back of my neck.
I tried not to think about the whole incident. I tried to deviate my focus on something normal like folding laundry or reheating dinner;but everything felt wrong.
My phone sat on the counter, black screen staring at me like a dare.
I picked it up, unlocked it, and stared at Mark’s name still sitting under “Blocked.”
For the hundredth time, I almost unblocked him.
“Don’t do it,” I whispered to myself. “He’s not your problem anymore.”
But the ache in my chest disagreed. It had grown heavier ever since I walked away from him.
I moved to the couch abandoning my chores and sank into it, tucking my knees to my chest.
The clock on the wall ticked too loudly. 10:47 p.m.
“Go to bed Becca,” I murmured.
“You have work tomorrow,”
Knock!! Knock!!!
My head jerked toward the door. My first thought was Kira.
She had promised to stop by when she got back into town.
I stood, smoothing my hair and heading to the door. “Kira?”
There was no response. I frowned and opened it halfway.
I became frozen at the spot.
“Asher.”
He was the last person I expected to see or the last person I wanted to see.
He leaned against the doorframe, a small umbrella in one hand, a faint smirk on his lips.
His clothes were perfectly dry, his hair slicked back, not a strand out of place. That calm, calculated charm I once fell for, now it made my stomach twist.
“Hello, Becca,” he said softly. His tone was too casual.
I gripped the door tighter. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer. He just stepped forward, forcing me to step back until he was inside. The air seemed to shrink between us.
“I asked you a question,” I said, trying to sound firm.
He smiled faintly. “Did you ever think you could hide from me forever?”
My pulse jumped. “I moved on, Asher. You need to leave.”
“Moved on?” His smile grew into something darker. “Is that what you call it now? Jumping from one man’s bed to another’s?”
“Where is your protector now?” He smirked.
Of course he was referring to Mark.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. With one swipe, he showed me the screen.
My own face stared back at me, photos of me and him.
My stomach dropped. “What the hell is that?”
“Proof,” he said easily. “Of what you really are.”
My voice cracked. “These are fake. You know they’re fake.”
He laughed quietly. “Of course they are. But do you think anyone else cares?”
He stepped closer, his breath resting over my cheek.
“These little treasures were sent to me by some very... helpful friends of yours.”
“Friends?”
“Carmen and Olivia.”
The names hit me like slaps.
He tucked his phone away and leaned closer, his tone turning almost tender.
“They wanted me to know what kind of woman you really are. I guess they don't like sharing their golden boy.”
My throat burned. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because…” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face, “you humiliated me, Becca. You left. You made me look like a fool.”
I stepped back, but he followed. “Please just leave. You don’t get to show up here and…”
He cut me off by holding up another photo, this time it was a photo of Mark. “You still care about him, don’t you?”
I didn’t answer.
He smiled again,“Then you’ll listen carefully. If you ever try to contact him again…”
“Or sent him the least thing as a text message, I will get my men to kill him,”
I shrink, for a psychopath like Asher, it was something he could do.
He reached out and cupped my face, his thumb brushing my cheek like he used to when he was pretending to be gentle.
“You know I don’t bluff,” he whispered. “I always finish what I start.”
I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. “You don’t have to do this,” I said, my voice breaking. “Please, Asher. Don’t hurt him.”
“Then stay,” he murmured.
“Be with me, let's go back to being the Asher and Becca everyone admires,” he spoke out of his venomous mouth.
My hands trembled at my sides. “Okay,” I whispered.
He smiled, that same cold smile that once fooled me into thinking he loved me. “Good girl.”
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead before walking toward the door.
He paused there and looked back at me. “You should thank me,” he said. “I’m saving you from him”
Then he went out to the balcony.
The door clicked shut behind him.
For a moment, I stood frozen, the sound of the rain muffled by the pounding in my chest.
Then my knees gave out. I sank to the floor, my back against the door, and the sobs came before I could stop them.
I wailed.
I pressed my palms to my face and let the tears spill, gasping for air between them.
My body felt cold, numb, drained of every ounce of strength I had left.
I was back in the same trap.
Different city, same monster.
On the counter, my phone buzzed. I turned my head
The screen lit up, bright against the dim room.
Mark Simmons
The sound of the vibration filled the space between my sobs.
Ninety-nine calls before this. This was the hundredth.
I stared at his name, the tears still running down my face. My heart screamed to answer, to tell him everything, to let him save me again.
But Asher’s voice echoed in my head.
“I will get my men to kill him,”
The phone kept ringing.
And I just sat there, back against the door, crying into the sound of the rain, while his name kept flashing over and over.
Who was going to be my Saviour this time?
Just pick the damn call Becca