It was bound to be weird, for everyone. I was sharing my one-bed apartment with a guy I hardly knew. I’d dated Collin for ten years and we’d never lived together. Now I was living with Ash.
And to be honest, I wasn’t finding it that easy to share my space, although Ash was helpful around the place, almost as if he was trying to be invisible. It didn’t work, of course. Having 6’ 2” of hunky dancer in my living room was not something I could even pretend to ignore. He was just so there, even when all he was doing was breathing.
I think Collin must have felt guilty about what he said, although it didn’t slip my attention that he hadn’t apologized.
He even managed to be pleasant to Ash while we shared Chinese takeout.
Ash was polite in return, but distant, answering any questions, but not initiating conversation.
After half a glass of wine, I was ready for bed, and Collin helped me into the bedroom. He made it clear that he wanted to make things better between us, and we ended up having sex, which was nice. It had been a while.
I remember hearing the front door slam and was distracted by the thought that I hadn’t given Ash a key to my apartment. Had he taken mine?
I didn’t hear him come back, but he must have because when Collin woke up in the morning to go to work, Ash was gone again, his blankets neatly folded beside the couch and a used coffee cup in the sink.
I worked all day on boring study guides, limping only a little, wondering the whole time if Ash was okay. Then Detective Petronelli called to speak to him, and I had to make an excuse that he’d gone for a walk.
“Well, when he comes back, could you ask him to come to the station—we’ve got a few more questions for him?”
“Sure,” I sighed. “We’ll drive over later. Have you notified his attorney?”
“I believe so.” He cleared his throat. “There’s no need for you to come, Miss Hennessey.”
“We’ll see you later,” I repeated, and ended the call.
When Ash came home, the cool distance that had been present at dinner last night was still there. I was a little hurt that he’d be like that with me after everything we’d been through. But when he walked out of the shower, tugging on a t-shirt, he had fresh claw marks down his chest. I guess I knew how he’d spent last night.
His eyes widened when I told him that Detective Petronelli wanted to talk to him again. He wasn’t happy about it, but didn’t argue.
He pushed his hand into the front of his jeans and pulled out a bunch of folded notes.
“There’s $100,” he said. “I did a full day.”
“Ash, I don’t want your money.”
“And I don’t want yours,” he snapped. “I’m paying you back for the clothes, the hotel, the car rental, my fucking food!”
And he stomped off to the laundry room, leaving me shocked and saddened. I didn’t want him to feel like he owed me. Stupid male pride.
Twenty minutes later, he slid into the passenger seat of my Mini Cooper, folding his long legs into the small space.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“Okay.”
We drove to the police station in silence until Ash asked if he could turn on the radio. I should have thought of that. Music calmed him.
Detective Petronelli came out immediately, casting an aggrieved stare that said he really didn’t want me here.
“Thank you for coming in, Mr. Novak. We just have a few more questions for you. If you’d like to follow me to the interview room. Miss Hennessey, you can take a seat in the waiting room.”
“No, that’s okay, Derek,” I said with a fake smile. “I’ll stay with Ash.”
Ash threw me a puzzled look, but didn’t argue. The detective, however, wasn’t happy.
“Miss Pinto is waiting in the interview room,” he sighed. “But just so you know, your dad will have my ass when he finds out that I let you sit in.”
The other detective, Oscar Ramos, was chatting with Angie as we arrived. When he saw me, he looked questioningly at Petronelli, who just shrugged.
Hi Angie, thanks for coming.”
“Of course,” she said, giving me a quick hug. “Hello, Ash.”
He nodded, but didn’t speak, then sat on the hard plastic chair, his legs bouncing with a jittery restlessness.
“Thank you for coming in, Mr. Novak. We have some additional questions for you, particularly about your associates in Las Vegas.”
Angie frowned. “His associates?”
“Mr. Novak mentioned the woman Marta whom we’ve since identified as Marta Babiak.” He turned to Ash. “Was she part of the prostitution ring you mentioned?”
Ash looked frustrated. “That’s what she told me. You already know this.”
“What about Yveta Kuznets and Galina Bely? Were they involved in prostitution with you?”
I gasped. Ash had been involved in the prostitution? He glanced at me then closed his eyes, his face scrunched up as if he was in pain.
Angie looked down, pretending to read her notes. She already knew.
Oh God. Ash had worked as a prostitute. It was what I’d thought the first night I met him, but it was horrible having my fears confirmed. How many more secrets did he have?