Chapter 212: Asher
Boomer’s building is newer, tall and glassy
too many cameras and not enough security. He lives in a condo tower on the east side, fourth floor, I park
crooked in the guest spot and don’t even kill the engine right away.
I check my phone.
Boomer:
Door’s unlocked. Just come in.
I’m wiped.
Fucking hell.
I already texted him not to do that earlier. Told him to wait for me, lock it down. But no repl
I kill the engine. Climb the stairs two at a time. When I hit the fourth floor, 1 head straight for 417 and test the knob.
Unlocked. Just like he said.
My jaw clenches.
I push it open, every muscle in me tense.
And then I see her.
Penny.
She’s curled on the couch, small under a gray blanket. Her face is turned toward the back cushions, and even in the dim glow of the kitchen light, I can see
the faint streaks on her cheeks. Tear tracks.
I breathe in sharp through my nose. Quick scan – no bruises, no blood, no signs of anything worse. Just sleep, soft and fragile.
I should be relieved.
I am relieved.
But then I see him.
Boomer.
He’s sitting on the floor in front of the couch, head tilted back – resting against her stomach. His eyes are closed. His chest rises and falls slow, steady. One of his hands is over his shoulder, holding hers.
And my chest tightens.
It’s not what it looks like. I know that. I do
Boomer’s young. Naive. Still learning when to let go.
And I’m not blind – I’ve seen how gentle he is with her. How much he respects her. He kept her safe tonight. Twice. And at the base too. He’s earned that
trust.
But still–seeing her like this, his hand on heys, his head against her body like they’ve done this a hundred times before–it makes something dark stir inside
- me.
step forward and tap his calf with the toe of my boot. Not hard, just enough.
Chapter 212: Asher
Boomer jolts up.
“Jesus,” he mutters. Then his eyes focus. “Oh. Sorry, sir.”
His voice lowers out of instinct.
I just look at him.
He gets up quick
not quick enough. He’s fresh, still breaking in the instincts. Still learning what it means to live like this.
1 tilt my chin toward the hallway, “Bedroom.”
He nods. We both move quietly, not waking her. When I close the door behind us, he scratches the back of his head and winces.
I catch it now
dried blood on his temple.
“What the hell happened?” I ask.
“Oh.” He glances up. “Some of them were waiting outside. I got clocked.”
My stomach flips. “Who was outside?”
Boomer fills me in. The motorcycles, The gang members. The blocked exit. The threats.
“Their eyes were on her,” he says, jaw tightening. “One of them said something disgusting. Told me I could take twenty bucks and disappear, or they’d make me disappear.”
I close my eyes.
They
“Sir, I didn’t leave her,” Boomer adds quickly. “Not for a second. They tried. One came at me with a bar. I took out three of them before they finally turned
and went inside.”
“You fought them alone?” My voice is like ice.
He shrugs. “I wasn’t gonna let them touch her.”
I pace the small room, fists clenching at my sides. That’s when he asks.
“What happened inside?”
I give him the short version. The bar fight. The broken glass. Vultures starting shit. I don’t mention what they said to me. I don’t mention the reason they were there. That they came with my name in their mouths and hell behind their eyes.
He doesn’t need that. Not yet.
Boomer nods. “You think they’ll come back?”
I don’t answer.
Because I don’t think.
I know.
Instead, I look him dead in the eyes.
“You did good, Boomer.”
He blinks. “Thanks. But you should know…”
Chapter 212: Asher
He glances toward the door. “She didn’t want to leave. I had to drag her out. She kept saying she couldn’t leave you behind.
My breath leaves me slow.
Of course she did.
That stupid, stubborn heart of hers. The one I love so fucking much.
Boomer smiles faintly. “She’s a little thing, but she fights like hell.”
I smirk despite myself.
“She the one?” he asks, quieter.
I look at him.
And I don’t say a word.
He nods like that’s answer enough.
I leave him there and walk back out into the living room. The TV’s still on, low and flickering against the wall. Penny’s blanket is tucked under her chin now. Her breathing’s soft and shallow, but not peaceful. Not fully.
I crouch beside the couch and gently brush my knuckles along her cheek. “Penny.”
She stirs.
“Hey, princess. It’s me.”
Her lashes flutter, and her eyes open – bleary at first – until they focus. And then she’s awake.
“Oh my God,” she breathes, and suddenly she’s in my arms. Practically launching herself off the couch and onto me. “You’re okay–you’re okay-
“I’m okay,” I murmur, pulling her tight, burying my face in her neck. “You’re okay too.”
Her fingers dig into my shirt, fists tight in the fabric. “I was so scared-
“I know. I know, baby.”
We hold each other there for a long moment, not saying anything. Just breathing. Just being.
Then I pull back enough to look at her. “We should go. Let Boomer rest.”
She nods, still clinging to me a bit, then turns toward the hallway.
Boomer’s leaning there, watching.
She walks to him and wraps her arms around his torso.
He hesitates
–
just for a second – then hugs her back. One arm around her shoulders, the other settling lightly at her waist.
And my jaw ticks.
It’s not possessiveness. Not really.
It’s just… she fits better in my arms.
Boomer meets my eyes over her head and drops his hand.
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Chapter 212: Asher
“Thank you,” she whispers to him.
He nods, quiet. “Anytime, Pen.”
I raise a brow at that Pen
but say nothing.
She pulls back, and we head out. The door closes softly behind us.
The car is warm by the time we’re halfway down the block. Snow flurries flick past the headlights.
She’s quiet until I stop at a light, then she turns to me.
“You really okay?” she asks.
Instead of answering, I lean in and kiss her.
Long. Slow. Steady.
My hand cradles the back of her neck, fingers sliding into her hair. I press every ounce of relief and every word I don’t say into that kiss. Until she melts
into me.
When I pull back, I say it low: “I’m sorry you had to go through that tonight.”
She shakes her head. “I’m okay. I’m sorry your friend’s funeral day ended like that.”
I exhale slow.
There’s nothing I can say to that. Nothing I want to unpack yet.
So I kiss her again, softer this time. Then put the car in drive.
“Let’s go home,” I say.
Her hand slips into mine.
And I mean it
every word of it.
Home.
Because that’s what I intend to make it.
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