Reading Online Novel

Tagged & Ashed(60)



“I wish I had known. Ash, I’m so sorry,” Billy chimes in with a double dose of guilt.

“Billy, it’s not your fault some chick hates me. Besides, we don’t know if it’s even her.”

Tag’s neck is inches from my lips, and I know he can’t resist me if I start kissing it right now.

My lips start moving toward it, but the car stops as it finds the entrance of a gate. I look up to see the ocean in view, and there’s a man standing outside his car, getting frisked by security.

Tag’s face is suddenly ashen as he stares at the man I’m worried is secretly a ghost, given the ghastly expression on Tag’s face.

“You know him?” I ask curiously.

He hesitates to answer, seeming to pale all the more.

“Unfortunately," he says at last. "I hope you’re ready to meet my father.”



***

Tag



My erection is completely gone now as my father’s car follows behind us down the long driveway to my beach home. Ash’s jaw drops as she stares at the house in disbelief.

I’ve been excited to show her this place, and now Damon has ruined that.

“Ash, take Trip and go on inside. I’ll deal with my father, and I’ll come check on you later.”

She looks at me as if she’s confused, but she doesn’t have time to escape before the staggering fool meets us outside the house, his arms stretched wide, his breath reeking, and his clothes a wrinkled mess.

His suit looks to have been worn for days on end. One tail of the front of his shirt is tucked in, while the other wrinkles in front of his pants. His tie is as crooked as his fucked-up head.

“What are you doing here, Damon?” I growl.

“Is that any way to greet your old man?” he says with stammering annunciation. “What do you think I’m doing here? I came to meet my grandson.”

“How did you know about my son?”

Ash pulls Trip closer to her as she starts walking away, but Damon chases after her.

“I’ve been reading about you, kid. Since you rarely speak to me, it’s the only way I can keep up.”

Ash forces a smile, her eyes darting to mine for a second before falling on Damon’s hand that is touching the cheek of our child. I want to rip his arm off and beat him with it, but I hold my breath.

Being a father now, I’m just hoping Damon is here for the right reasons. He smiles as he pulls out a stack of tabloids from his briefcase, all of them with mine and Ash’s faces plastered on the fronts.

“See?” he says while showing them to us.

Ash gasps, and I sigh out loudly.

Shit.



***

Tag



“How fucked up are you right now?” I ask as I stand alone with Damon in the kitchen of my beach home.

“I’m clean right now,” he lies.

He’s on some random drug, I can tell. He’s drunk as fuck, too - always is. He has never known how to do anything in moderation.

“How much do you want?” I ask with my chilling tone.

“I don’t want anything, son. I just came to see my grandson and meet my son’s girlfriend. Is that so much to ask?”

I wish this wasn’t some elaborate act. I wish he wasn’t here for all the wrong reasons. Just once, I’d love to sit down and eat dinner with my father and have a normal conversation. It’d be nice for Trip to have a grandfather from my side, but it’ll never happen.

Ash’s parents and Melanie are the only grandparents Trip will ever have. I’m fine with that, too, because I know my father isn’t grandfather material.

“Fine. You can stay and eat dinner with us. Wren will be coming by shortly. You remember Wren, don’t you?”

“Of course. Thank you.”

He heads into the living area, and my eyes follow him as he sits down beside Ash to reach over for Trip. She very uneasily hands him over, but her eyes never leave him, nor do mine.

“Do you mind if I use your shower? I got caught up in a crazy storm. I could use a shower and a place to change,” he murmurs while giving Trip back.

“Third door on the right,” I say while pointing down the hallway, and he smiles before walking off.



***

Ashiara



“Whatever you’re cooking, it smells delicious,” Tag gushes as he walks up behind me, leaning over me to inspect the stove as his hand rests on the small of my back.

He’s been touching me all day. He can’t stand close to me without touching me. It’s confusing the shit out of me, too.

“Your dad seems to be doing well with Trip,” I say to shift the conversation, hoping his touch will move unless he really wants me.

I look over my shoulder as Damon does his best to make silly faces at Trip, hoping for a laugh.