Chapter: 1
*****
Asher's heart was racing as he scooped Emily into his arms, whispering a hurried "shh" before shoving her into the cupboard. It was a game they played, one that kept her safe and him alive... somewhat. The door creaked, and he froze, holding his breath. The sound echoed through the dimly lit house like a warning bell.
Emily's fearful gaze locked onto his. "Mily, stay quiet," he whispered, his voice trembling with fear. "Don't make a sound." Emily nodded, but her tiny body shook like a leaf, her eyes wide with terror.
"It'll be alright, Mily, I promise," Asher whispered, trying to reassure her, but his own heart was racing with fear. Just a little more, and he'd have to confront their father.
Emily's voice was barely audible, "Make it stop, Sasha..." Asher's heart shattered into a million pieces.
The bedroom door creaked again, and Asher's world began to spin. His vision blurred as he slowly crawled out of the cupboard. He stumbled backward, his legs giving out beneath him. The sound of their father's footsteps grew louder, and Asher knew he was running out of time.
"Asher!" His father's bellow was like a sledgehammer to his soul.
*****
Suddenly, Asher's world went dark and then he was jolted from sleep with a start to find a hand clasped onto his shoulder. He was disoriented, his eyes scanning an unfamiliar room. A stranger's face came into focus – chiseled features, piercing blue eyes, and a messy mop of black hair. A large scar marred the left side of his face, a flaw that made him eerily captivating.
"Hey, you okay?" the stranger asked, his voice laced with concern. "You were shaking a lot, and sweating bullets." Asher's mind reeled as he struggled to scramble out of the bed. He was still shaken by the nightmare, his emotions raw and exposed. He needed a moment to collect himself before he could tackle his present situation and the stranger who seemed to be watching him with an intensity that made his skin crawl.
But first, he had to find Emily.
Asher's frantic calls echoed through the room. "Mily?!" He yanked open the closet doors, his heart racing with every passing second, clearly hasn't recovered from the nightmare. The stranger's calm demeanor shattered as he rose from the bed and approached Asher. With a gentle yet firm grasp, he enveloped Asher from behind, holding him in a vice-like grip.
"Shh," Kaidën whispered, his warm breath caressing Asher's ear. "You're with me... just me..." The soothing words slowly seeped into Asher's frazzled mind, calming the storm that raged within. A sob burst forth, shaking Asher's frame as Kaidën held him fast.
As Asher's tears subsided, he pulled away from Kaidën, his gaze scanning the unfamiliar room. Memories of the previous night's graduation celebration and a chance encounter at a bar flickered in his mind, but the details remained frustratingly hazy.
With a jolt of adrenaline he stumbled backward creating more distance between them. Asher's eyes widened as he took in Kaidën's naked form, and then his own. The implications were unmistakable. A mix of panic and embarrassment fueled his retreat from Kaidën.
Their gazes clashed, Kaidën's intensity making Asher's skin prickle. "Who are you?" Asher demanded, struggling to keep his voice steady.
Kaidën's expression softened, and he extended a hand. "I'm Kaidën. We met last night," he said, his voice as cold as the sea-blue of his eyes. "Don't you remember?" The question hung in the air, a challenge that Asher couldn't meet. His memories of the previous night remained shrouded in mystery, leaving him vulnerable and unsure.
Asher's gaze lingered on Kaidën's outstretched hand, his mind reeling with unanswered questions. What had happened the night before? And why did he sense that his life was on the cusp of a drastic transformation? He swallowed hard, his hand gesturing wildly as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.
"Did-" Asher voiced and he swallowed, his hand moving in drastic motions as he tried to speak, "Did-" he swallowed again, whenever he became so nervous he began to stutter. "Did... Did we have se-sex?"
"So, you don't remember?" Kaidën repeated, sidestepping Asher's question. The evidence of their intimacy was undeniable, and Asher felt a flush rise to his cheeks. He shouldn't have asked; the answer was already painfully clear.
Asher's gaze wandered around the unfamiliar room for the millionth time, taking in the sleek furniture and the breathtaking city skyline. He had no recollection of how he'd arrived there or what had unfolded the night before. "Wh-where are my clothes?" Asher demanded, striving to maintain a neutral tone.
Kaidën nodded toward a chair in the corner, where Asher's clothes were neatly folded. "You might want to take a shower first. You're not exactly...fresh." The man's tone was laced with mockery, and Asher's eyes narrowed in response.
Without a word, Asher walked over to the chair, his hand instinctively covering his crotch. "Ba-bathroom?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the rug.
"Door on your left," Kaidën replied, his voice detached as he walked to the other side of the room.
Asher nodded and retreated to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. The hot shower was a welcome respite, but it did little to clear the fog from his mind. As he dressed, he caught glimpses of himself in the mirror. His eyes looked sunken, his skin pale, and his expression haunted.
'Just what had he done last night?' The question loomed large in his mind as he stood before the mirror. A thought came to mind and he gently took his hand and placed it on his ass, then he massaged it, hoping to feel any form of pain or soreness, it was his first time after all, so shouldn't it have hurt or be hurting still? He wondered, as he rubbed his entrance for any sign of whatever it was he had foolishly indulged in last night, but there was nothing, not a slightest of pain.
'Maybe they didn't do it?' Asher thought, a glimmer of hope rising within him. He took a step back from the mirror, his eyes scanning his reflection one last time.
When he emerged from the bathroom, Kaidën was sitting on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee. He looked up at Asher and forced a smile, but it seemed to hide a thousand unspoken words.
"Feel better?" Kaidën asked, his voice low and smooth. Asher shrugged, unsure how to respond. He felt like he was navigating a minefield, uncertain what to say or do.
Kaidën set his coffee cup down and stood up, his movements fluid and deliberate. "I'll make you some breakfast. You must be starving... or at least a hangover soup, you were pretty wasted last night."
Asher's eyes narrowed, a retort burning on his lips. 'Who in hell fucks a drunk person?' he wanted to snap, but he bit back the words. 'Maybe they didn't fuck, maybe he had ruined his clothes, he was drunk after all, or maybe they had wanted to do it but fell asleep since he was again clearly drunk.' Fuck, all these maybes were starting to make his head hurt.
As Kaidën headed for the kitchen, Asher's gaze darted around the room, his mind racing. He had to get out of there, but his stomach growled at the mention of food. He hesitated, unsure what to do. There was no time to wait around, he needed to leave.
Seizing the opportunity, Asher made a mad dash for the door. With one last glance at the kitchen, he turned and rushed out of the room, leaving Kaidën's voice echoing behind him. "Asher, wait!"
Asher didn't look back. He stumbled through the unfamiliar apartment, desperate to find the elevator. His heart pounded in his chest, and his head spun with questions. What had happened last night? How did he get here? And who was Kaidën, really?
Finally, he saw the elevator and made a beeline for it. His fingers shook as he pounded the buttons, and when the doors opened, he got in. Pacing back and forth, trying to calm his racing mind.
When the elevator doors opened again, Asher rushed out, gasping for air. He stood on the sidewalk, breathing heavily, trying to clear his foggy mind. Who forgets their first time? The question haunted him. And to think he had wanted to treasure his first.
"Fuck!" he groaned, straightening his posture. He needed to get to the station. He was already running late for his first day as a sworn officer.
Glancing around, Asher spotted a taxi and hailed it. As he turned to look back at the apartment building, he half-expected to see Kaidën bounding after him. But the man was nowhere to be seen, and Asher felt a mix of relief and fear.
****
As the cab's tires hummed against the asphalt, Asher sank into the worn leather seat, his eyelids drifting shut. Memories of the morning's events swirled in his mind like a maelstrom, threatening to pull him under. He needed to shake off the confusion and focus on the day ahead, his first day as a police officer.
The cab driver's voice cut through the haze. "Is everything alright, sir?" Asher's eyes snapped open, and he met the driver's gaze in the rearview mirror.
"What?" he asked, confusion etched on his face.
"You keep grunting," the driver replied, his tone tinged with concern. Asher forced a smile, realizing he'd been unaware of his own discomfort.
"Ah, I'm sorry, I'm fine, thank you." He brushed his fingers through his hair, his eyes darting shyly out the window.
The driver nodded, his eyes returning to the road. "The police station, yes."
Asher nodded, his gaze still fixed on the passing scenery. "Yeah, yeah..."
As the cab continued on its route, Asher's thoughts drifted back to the previous night. He recalled walking into the bar with his colleagues, the music pulsating and the drinks flowing freely. Laughter and jokes had filled the air, but then, he'd seen him, Kaidën. Tall, dark, and handsome, with piercing blue eyes that seemed to bore into his soul. The scar on Kaidën's face had caught Asher's attention, sparking a flurry of unspoken questions.
Their eyes had met across the room, and Asher had felt a jolt of electricity run through his body.