Chapter 207: Asher
The bar hums with that low, restless energy it always ranies after a funeral.
It’s not a party. No one’s laughing too loud. No music tonight, not the usual Friday night crap. Just the dull clink of glasses, the scrape of stoets against warped wood, and the occasional sound of boots hitting floor in time with a drink being raised.
“To the fallen,” someone mumbles near the bar.
It echoes through the room.
Rooster didn’t come.
I don’t blame him. He gets quiet after death. Angry first, then silent. I’ve seen it before. He texted me a simple “Can’t. Sorry.” and that was it.
But for the rest of us-
This is tradition.
You bury your brother, then you drink in his name.
And for the first time, Penny’s here with me for it.
I offered to drive her home after the service. Thought she might want space, quiet. She didn’t even hesitate.
“No. I’ll stay. You shouldn’t do this alone.”
I didn’t realize until she said it how much I needed her to say it.
Because I’m not okay.
That moment on the podium? I felt the crack before I heard it. My voice going soft, the silence clawing at my ribs, the snow falling harder than it should’ve.. I was talking about Night, but what I wanted–what I needed–was her.
And when I saw her, standing there with that calm, steady stare, hands clasped in front of her, eyes on me, I nearly lost it.
So I walked straight off the stage and straight into her arms.
Didn’t care who was watching.
Didn’t care if my voice shook.
I just… needed to feel her. Her warmth, her heartbeat, her softness. That little body against mine reminding me that I made it home. That I still have a future. That I can want things.
I survived.
And maybe, just maybe, I deserve to live, too.
Now I’m at a sticky round table in the corner of a half–crowded pub, nursing a whiskey and letting my buddies talk around me.
Mendez is mid–story. “I swear to God, it was a donkey. Not a horse. A donkey. And Tank’s over here trying to bribe it with beef jerky like it was > magic charm–”
d of
“Because it was working,” I grunt, eyes still fixed across the room.
“Until it bit you, dumbass.”
Carter chokes on his beer, laughing. “Wait–wait–this is real?”
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Chapter 207: Asher
I glance at him. “You see a scar on my wrist?”
He leans in. “No sh–d
damn. That’s what that’s from?”
Bishop whistles low. “Man got
bite and lived to tell the tale. We should’ve let you do the speech drunk.”
They all laugh, but I’m not in it.
Because across the bar, Penny leans over the pool table, cue in hand, and Boomer’s standing just a little too close.
Her hair falls over her shoulder as she focuses. She bites her lip. Draws back-
And sinks the ball into the corner pocket like she’s done this a hundred times.
Boomer groans. “You’ve got to be hustling me.”
She grins. “I’m just naturally gifted.”
“Yeah, gifted at wrecking my self–esteem.”
“You’ll live,” she says sweetly, chalking the tip of the cue.
My chest tightens.
She’s fine. Happy, even.
Boomer’s not a threat, not really. He’s decent. Young. Still gets carded at half the bars. But there’s this little part of me–the same dark part that spent years watching brothers fall in war zones–that hates seeing her smile at another man.
She’s not just my girl.
She’s my lifeline.
Mendez follows my gaze and mutters, “Boomer’s playing with fire.”
I don’t answer.
He smirks. “You ever gonna tell her how wrecked you are for her, or just let your death glare do all the talking?”
“I told her,” I say quietly.
“When?”
“Last night. Not with words.”
Carter raises a brow. “You finally-”
“Drop it.”
They laugh, but softer now. Bishop nudges my arm. You did good today, man. Speech hit everyone hard.”
“Yeah,” Mendez agrees. “Even had Johnson misty feyed, and that guy’s basically made of concrete and cheap cigarettes.”
I nod, but the whiskey’s warm in my throat again, and all I can think about is how Night’s mom hugged me with shaking hands after the funeral, whispering thank you for being there. Like that was enough.
It wasn’t.
It’ll never be.
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Chapter 207. Asher
But Penny… she’s here.
Boomer clears his throat and tries for casual. “So, uh… you play often?”
She shrugs. “Not really, I just kind of go by feel.”
Boomer chuckles, and it’s too soft. His voice drops a little. “That’s a talent. You go by feel a lot?”
Penny doesn’t even blink. “I mean… yeah? It’s worked for me so far.”
He smiles like a guy catching feelings and trying not to show it. “Right. Cool. That’s–cool.”
Then she leans across the table to take another shot, and Boomer’s eyes drop to her waist for a second too long.
My jaw tightens.
Mendez notices. “Oof,” he mutters under his breath, leaning back in his chair. “Kid’s cruisin‘ for a black eye.”
“She’s not doing anything.” Carter says, glancing between them.
I know. That’s the worst part.
She doesn’t even see it.
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