PRESENT

"Ash!"

"What!"

"Get your ass downstairs! This is the last time I'm asking before I eat your breakfast!"

I snicker at Dad's words, knowing he's completely serious. Growing up, I used to think he was joking about that particular threat until I would enter the kitchen and discover that my breakfast was literally gone. I'd get him back every time, though — I'd eat the lunch Mom packed for him instead. It was always a fun competition between us until we got our asses kicked by Mom and had to give it up. Right now is no different when I walk inside the kitchen and stop in my tracks, a laugh bursting out of me at the image of Mom yanking Dad's ear.

"Honey, I was joking!" Dad holds his hands up in surrender.

"I don't care." Mom tugs more and earns his yelp. "My baby hasn't even been home an entire twenty-four hours and you're threatening to eat the food I made for him? Do you want to sleep on the couch?"

"Cut him some slack, Ma." I chuckle and gently pry her hold off of him. I wrap my arms around her in a tight hug that she returns. Even though she's half my size, I still feel the safest in her embrace.

It doesn't matter that my adoptive parents aren't my biological parents. They were the ones that took a chance on the troubled and undisciplined kid that couldn't get any family to foster him for longer than six months. I raised hell in every home I was sent to because I didn't belong. I didn't want to live in a space where there was no room for me. The foster system is fucked up too. Most of the families were just looking to collect checks and the really awful ones were always into the sketchy stuff — they liked to raise their hand on me and make me their mule more than anything else.

Naturally, I didn't trust my parents when they first started fostering me. They seemed nice and genuine but even as a kid I knew that looks could be deceiving. I would purposely throw tantrums, break shit, run out of the house in the middle of the night while they drove around looking for me, and so many more things that I can barely keep track of. I just wanted a reaction from them — for them to reveal the monsters inside because every person had an ugly side. My parents never caved and eventually, probably well after a year of living with them, did I slowly begin to let my guard down. It wasn't until I reached high school and they got me through some of the biggest moments in my life that I realized they were on my team. Since then, I haven't doubted them once. I'd do fucking anything for them.

It's why I haven't told them that the letters have made a reappearance — that my birth parents have another job for me and they're not giving up this time. I thought my trip to New York last year set them in place and it's been a peaceful year of not hearing a word from them. Then, a month ago, they started coming again. That's why I moved back in with my parents last night and plan to stay here until I can get my birth parents to back the fuck of again; for good. I would protect my adoptive parents no matter the cost. Even if it means taking that fucking job my birth parents won't let go of. But this time, I'm going to be smart about it. This time, I plan to gather all the evidence I need to bust their entire drug gang and take them down. They've ruined my life enough.

"Earth to Ashes." Dad waves a hand and I blink, snapping out of my thoughts.

"Stop calling me that." I release Mom to lightly punch his arm, grinning.

"Why?" Dad takes a sip of coffee, eyeing me over the rim. "Ashes are dark — like your soul. No wonder it's your name."

"That's not my name." I roll my eyes. Nobody loves giving me shit more than my dad. It's good for me, though. Mom can go overboard spoiling me but Dad keeps me in check. He's decided every grounding and lecture I've received growing up and if it wasn't for that, who knows where I'd be?

"Who were you talking to last night?" Mom asks and drops the pancakes in the pan onto a plate. She pushes it over to me and takes a seat. "I heard you laughing after ages."

My mind shifts to last night and I clear my throat, feeling a little uncomfortable at Mom's observation. "It was just Ria."

I pick at my pancakes but look up when I don't hear a response. Mom and Dad are giving each other a weird look. My eyes narrow in suspicion.

"What?"

"Nothing." Mom says brightly. My skepticism is obvious when she waves a hand and continues. "I've just missed that girl to bits and pieces. I'm so glad she's living in Boston again."

"Yeah." I mumble and stuff a bite into my mouth to avoid having to respond to that. I don't even know what to say about her.

All I could do was freeze in place when I caught sight of her through the transparent doors in my room as she stood on her balcony, her face tipped up to the raining sky and a small smile playing on her face. I'd immediately been transported to all the times we would talk to each other from our balconies as kids, back when I was a pain in the ass and she was my saving grace that wanted to be my friend for whatever reason. I used to shut my doors when she called out to me from her room across mine where our houses faced each other and even then she'd be back the next day, waiting for me to say something back. I gave in, mainly to tell her to leave me alone, but somehow we'd gotten to talking for hours and all I knew from that moment on was that I couldn't stay away from her if I tried. We became inseparable, two dorks that were never seen apart no matter how many years passed by.

Yet somehow all of that changed in what seemed like an instant. Ria found herself in an abusive relationship and completely pulled away. Sending that fucker behind bars wasn't enough for her, understandably so. She flew to California and, without realizing, took my heart with her.

But now it's back. She's back. Back in the form of a completely different person. Not only has she changed in physical appearance, but she's a different person too. She's this weird mixture of the Ria I grew up with and the Ria that lost herself when her relationship ruined her life. It's like she's battling two versions of her and I can't even begin to wonder where I fit into that; if I fit in at all. It fucking kills me that my best friend is right there and somehow she's so far out of my reach I can't even graze her. I couldn't stop myself from calling out to her last night, though. I couldn't not talk to her when she was right in front of me. I needed something from her to remind me of better times when she was the centre of my world — the best part. The most beautiful part. And fuck, is she even more beautiful now. It's unbelievable how much she's grown into the woman that she is. It's such a far cry from the Aria I used to bother all the time when we were kids.

"I should have made your coffee stronger." Mom's voice snaps me out of it for the second time. She's watching me with a small smile. "I think you're still half-asleep."

"I guess." I agree. I don't bother correcting her. The last thing she needs to hear from me is that being back here is too much. I know my parents have missed having me around and it's worth the cluster-fuck of emotions to be with them again.

"Are you training today?" Dad asks.

"Yeah. Gonna be there for a few hours after work. I'll be home late so don't wait up."

"Have you decided if you want to go pro?" Mom prods.

I bristle slightly. I hate this topic mainly because it means lying to my parents. They think I'm not going pro because I don't feel ready, which isn't the case at all. The truth is, if I go pro and my name and information gets out to the media then my birth parents' rival gang will find me. They think I'm still in New York and that's the only reason I'm alive today. The second the find out where I really am, they'll come after me and this time they'll make sure not to leave until I'm dead.

"Maybe." I make myself say. I focus on my pancakes because it's too hard lying to them to their faces. "Nate's career is starting to take off and Coach is busy with him so I don't think now is a good time."

"That's bullshit." Dad snorts. "I've met Greg and he's badass. He'll make time for all his students without a single complaint. That's the last thing you need to worry about."

Dad's right — Coach never takes a day off and would be one hundred percent committed if I asked him to start training me for pros, too. I want that more than anything but I can't. I risk the Asesinos finding me and my parents will find out that I've been in contact with my birth parents a couple of times. The last fucking thing I want to do is disappoint them. They've already done more for me than I can ever repay.

"I'll speak to him when I'm ready. I promise." I tell them a partial truth.

"Sweetheart, we just want what's best for you. We know how happy boxing makes you and I really think you'd make a huge career out of it. You're such a talented fighter." Mom settles her hand on top of mine.

My chest constricts painfully with guilt. I don't deserve their love and support for one fucking second. If my parents knew I was a killer, they'd be horrified to have me under the same roof as them. I can't even fathom not having them in my life anymore and there's no way they'd want me around if they discovered the truth. So I have no choice but to keep lying.

"Thanks, Umma." I kiss Mom's forehead and she pats my cheek affectionately, knowing I only call her that when I really need her.

"Need a ride to work?" Dad calls over his shoulder as he grabs his coat.

"I'm good." I go over to him. "Are you free tomorrow? I need help putting my new TV stand together."

"Sure thing." He holds out a hand. "It'll cost you twenty."

"Twenty? I'm your son."

"Fine — nineteen. Final offer."

"You're hilarious."

"Love you too, kid." He grins, slapping my back as he steps out the door. "Don't be too late."

"I'll try." I wave out to him while he gets in his car.

He drives off and I'm about to head inside when I hear my name. I look next door to where Nate is jogging over to me.

"Hey, man." I bump his fist in greeting when he reaches me. "What're you doing here?"

Nate moved into his new place a couple of days ago with his girlfriend and their son. It's a huge step for my best friend and I'm proud of how far he's come. Nate has always been an inspiration to me. He's just always had his shit together. He does so much for the community and he's loved by everyone he meets. He's a good fucking man and I wish I could be half of what he is. Instead, I'm a fuck-up. A murderer in plain sight. I really don't understand why he's still friends with me. Sometimes I wonder if he feels safe having me around his son which is why I rarely interact with Zack but he insists it's okay. It doesn't feel okay to me, though. Nothing is okay.

"Zack took his first steps yesterday." He grins proudly. He's not biologically Zack's father but you would never know it. He loves his son the way my parents love me. It just goes to show that blood doesn't mean shit. Family can be anyone as long as they're there for you. "Everyone wanted to see the action in person so I brought him for a visit."

I smile at that. Nate has a huge family and they're as tight-knit as it gets. I've known them all my life and they're family to me too. Every single one of the Hunters have saved my life in their own way. I've never met anyone as amazing them.

"It's good that you're only a twenty minute drive away."

"It's fucking perfect. Our house is literally in the middle of my parents' place and Coach and Greta's place. There's always someone to babysit Zack."

"I can't believe those two moved in together." I grin. "Never thought I'd see the day where Coach is whipped for a woman."

"He's worse than me." Nate agrees.

"My ass. There's no one worse than you and Blondie."

"Fuck you." He laughs. "Want to come over for a bit and see little man?"

My shoulders lock up. Of course I want to see my best friend's son but he's not safe around me. I'm not the kind of person that should be allowed to be near him. If Blondie knew the truth about me she would freak out on Nate. I can't do that to their relationship. They don't deserve that.

"I've got to head out." I say instead and try not to feel guilty at his obvious disappointment. "But I'll try to stop by your place to check it out and see you guys then?"

"Sure." He nods, eyeing me like he knows I'm full of shit.

I clear my throat and change the subject. "You just missed Dad but Mom is inside if you want to say hi."

"Yeah, of course." I open the door wider to let him inside and he heads straight for the kitchen. "Hey, Abby."

"Nate!" Mom is hugging him when I join them. My parents are basically Nate's second parents. "You've only been gone two days and it already sucks for all of us."

"I miss you guys, too." He grins. "Come check out my new place sometime."

"You know I will." Her eyes take on a moon-y look. "How's your precious boy?"

"Next door if you want to see him."

Mom is grabbing his hand and yanking him out of the house before he's finished his sentence. I ignore Nate's horrified expression and wave my fingers at him with a smirk, laughing at the scowl he gives me in return. All too soon my smile slips off my face when I flop on the couch, left alone with my thoughts, and realize just how fucked up my life is. Constantly having to look over my shoulder, not being able to be myself around anyone in my life, lying to the people most important to me; it's all getting really fucking old.

And it's slowly ruining me.

***

"What're you doing here, Pryce?"

"Good to see you too, Coach." I snort at his unenthusiastic greeting. "How's the roommate life going?"

The tips of his ears turn red and he glares at me. "My relationship is not your concern."

"Lies!" Cameron hollers, pausing his sparring in the ring with Jaxon. "We made your relationship possible. All of it is our business."

"And how do you figure that?" Coach turns his menacing stare on him. Cameron's grin stays in place, not the least bit intimidated. The guy's a fucking goon.

"It's simple, really. I was your Cupid and you didn't even know it. I put all the pieces in place for you." He looks so serious I know he genuinely believes this is his doing. Coach's eye twitches. "And yes, I accept your offer to name your first born after me."

"Hey!" Emily scowls. The spoonful she was feeding Lucas is inches away from his mouth and the little guy struggles to reach it. His mom is too busy glaring at Cam. "Did you forget about me? I am his first born."

"Oh. Right." He winks. "Nice to meet you, Cameron. We sure are handsome."

Emily rolls her eyes. "Never mind. I take it back."

"Too bad, Cameron."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Leave my wife alone." Jaxon smacks Cam upside the head. "Or I won't fight fair anymore and break your arm."

"I knew it — you've always loved she-Cameron more than me."

"Shut the fuck up, West." Coach pinches the bridge of his nose but I don't miss the twitch of his lips he hides with his hand. He sobers up and turns to me. "Training today?"

"Yeah, I thought I'd get a few hours in."

"Go warm up and spar with Emerson."

"Nice." I nod. Sparring with Wolfe always challenged me and kept me on my toes. The fucker is an absolute beast. Plus, I enjoyed his company. He was the only person I could be around in total silence and not have to worry about lying to or disappointing. It's exactly what someone like me needs sometimes.

I catch him by the punching bag as he all but jabs it to death. His arms and upper chest are completely tatted up and it just makes him appear more intimidating. Not that he needs it; his face does the job just fine. There isn't anything pretty boy-ish about him. His looks are rough and mean and angry all the time. He's a decent guy for sure except when you try and ask him why he doesn't speak. Been there, done that, and after the look he gave me, definitely not trying it again.

"What up, man?"

He looks up at the sound of my voice and barely tips his chin at me, going right back to work. Fine by me. I just need a few moments to work out the anger building inside of me without having to worry about holding a conversation and Wolfe is exactly the guy to do that with.

I take stance by the punching bag next to him. I inhale a few, calming breaths and let my muscles relax. They won't get the job done if they're all tensed up. When I box, it needs to flow out of me like my moves are part of me and not done by me. When I open my eyes again, I'm ready. I waste no time beating the shit out of the bag in front of me and throwing every jab and hook and cross that I know. I like the skill that comes with boxing and how it's a fair sport. Back when I was involved with my birth parents I was part of a lot of underground MMA and that sport in that manner is straight up messy. No rules, no fairness, no mercy. Just a fight to the death for the sake of amusement. It's hard ridding myself of those habits and sometimes I go overboard when I box, breaking the rules of boxing without even realizing it. It's another reason I'm not ready for pro — not that I can even if I wanted to.

When my arms tire out and scream for a break, I drop them and fall to my ass. I stretch back on the gym floor and try and catch my breath. Wolfe appears in my line of vision above me and raises a brow. I've spent enough time around him to understand his facial gestures and know he's trying to ask me what's up.

"Bad day. There's too much shit going on I can't control."

Sometimes I tell Wolfe snippets of my life just because I need someone to talk to. I know I have Nate but he's in a good place in his life and I'm not going to be the fucker to ruin it with my own shit. I'm also not the kind of guy that opens up so I don't really talk to the rest of the boys either. Wolfe, though, he's a good listener and sometimes he hears me talk about my life like he gets it. I don't know how I can tell but I just can.

He nods now, one corner of his mouth tightening in what I know to be sympathy. He holds a hand out for me and I take it, letting him help me up.

"Thanks, Emerson."

He nods and goes back to training. He's barely broken a sweat, the fucking machine.

I head for my gym bag but stop when Wolfe grips my shoulder. I turn around in question and follow the finger he points to the ground. My eyes widen slightly and I quickly pick up the bracelet, nervously putting it back on.

"Thanks." I say quietly. He watches me with those same observant eyes that probably figured out this bracelet is obscenely important to me. If I don't have it on me, I genuinely freak the fuck out. It's the one thing in my life I'm actually superstitious about. No one would really know that because I make sure to hide it in the mess of the other bracelets I wear, away from plain sight.

I grip it tightly on my arm, my mind going back to the day I got it and more importantly, the person who gave it to me.

_________________________

A/N

We are slowly learning more about Asher and I cannot wait to learn more! If the chapter seems unfinished, it's because it is and the next chapter will be a flashback.

I'm so excited to try out my past-to-present story structure! I've never done anything like that before but it's all about stepping out of your comfort zone or you can't grow!

Please VOTE, comment and share if you liked this chapter!

Happy Reading :)