Four Brothers and a Bride

Chapter 11: Chapter 11

ASHTON

"I don't need a bodyguard" Ashal scowls at my looming presence.

We're in his home office where he is setting up for a zoom meeting with his staff at the office. "Good, because you couldn't hire me to protect your dumbass anyway. I'm here as your brother." I circle around his chair while he shifts restlessly in his seat.

"Don't you have to be at work? Gris has been calling."

"My personal assistant should be the least of your concerns right now, Ash. I'll handle my business. Just pretend I'm not here and carry on." I fix him with a deep stare. Ashal avoids my eyes and fusses with his setup.

I am not surprised he tried to commit suicide; I am surprised he waited this long. I am genuinely surprised to learn how strong he is. Unlike me, Ashal is actually strong. He doesn't just pretend to be. I pace the room now, trying and failing to quell my temper.

"I can't concentrate if you keep pacing like that. What the fuck are you looking for, Ashton?"

"Signs of confusion, vomiting, respiratory problems and every other post drowning symptom I can think of."

Ashal cocks a brow at me, perplexed by my response. Sweat starts to dew on his face.

Contrary to what it may look like, I am not enjoying any of this. I am deeply hurt and I am afraid for Ashal. I know he looks fine right now but when a man contemplates suicide to the point of actually attempting it, he opens a dangerous door in his head. That door is difficult to shut. For this reason, the chances of repeating the act won't just be a faint smear in memory.

I know because I have tried to take my life a few times in the past even though I chickened out in the end. While Ashal feels burdened by the fact that he can't get people to see him beyond being a guy with a personality disorder, I on the other hand struggle with an identity crisis as I can't get people to see the real me. Ashal wants to be perceived as more than his condition; I want to be perceived as just me and not the million personalities I have played over the years.

When we were kids, it was absolutely fun to switch identities without consequences. We were boys trying to help one of our brothers feel better about himself after his abuse. We didn't have anything to lose and it was fun. At that age, everyone thought it was cute.

However, when you play that type of game for years, you just might lose sight of who you actually are as a person, especially if you didn't discover your unique self before wearing different faces.

My brothers and I have never been the perfect sons father always wanted. After so many years under his tutelage and iron fist, Asher and Ashely managed to conform and become men father can be proud of. I couldn't do that.

Like Ashely who was visibly smaller than us in statue while growing up, I was born with dark hair as opposed to the golden locks of my brothers. Father hated it. He punished Ashely and I for being too different from the rest.

Ashely grew taller and caught up with the rest of us, leaving me at our father's mercy. Mother had to dye my hair from a very young age so I could seamlessly blend in with my brothers. After that problem was fixed, I realized I was dyslexic.

My teenage years were riddled with diverse, consecutive challenges that made it significantly harder for me to find favor in father's eyes. He treated me differently, like he had triplets and not quadruplets. I felt like the odd one in the group for so long. To compensate for my shortcomings, I mastered the art of pretending to be Asher, Ashely or Ashal. Even father couldn't tell when he patted my head and complimented me as Asher. Pretending to be anyone but myself was the only way to connect with father so I stuck with it.

is riskier. We now run businesses and have women in our lives. Hence, there is need to form some rules. Asher cleverly came up with them. We call them the quad codes. While it's a wise decision, it has left me feeling rather empty as I am stuck with being just myself most of the time. The problem with that is, I don't know who the fuck Ashton Rollins is supposed to be. I never tried

my hair. The dark-haired stranger staring back at me is exactly that, a stranger. I have never bothered to know him and now I fear nobody will ever love

moves to

"Care for a cup?"

fear I'll need something stronger to lift my spirit

Ash. A

a hip onto his desk. "Was it the first time you tried to take your life?" I need to know how

several beats. He takes a

look, he continues, "It's been in my head for years but I never

give yourself credit for, Ashal" My hands reach to squeeze his shoulder. "Don't try it again though. It's like father said, we Rollins don't hide or run away from our problems, we face them head-on." I feel a sting of hypocrisy claw its way up my throat at the irony of giving an advice I didn't completely believe. Lord

hands

she keeps trashing the gifts I sent her." He runs his hands over his face, trails them through his

your therapy. You both can rise above this." Ashal nods

the cameras like I

Short pause. "I did."

"And?"

and attacking Olivia after a hapless argument." He

that. You should definitely take them out if it bothers you

going for a really long drive to clear my head and possibly thaw out the truth from Ashal's words. He might not know it but Ashal has a 'tell'

Danvarr. As chief operating officer, I am advised to be punctual as a leader who leads by example. I'm told it helps to boost company morale, bolster the team spirit, blah blah blah. I completely agree but when your father owns the fucking place and you don't necessarily need the job to survive, you can bend the rules

my things from the back of my car and trots after me towards the bank of elevators. While he babbles my schedule, I plug in headphones and shut my eyes till the elevator dings in front of our office building. The showroom is milling with chattering salesmen and high-worth customers. A small smirk tugs my lips. The only bosses

need more convincing. When

postpone the rest of my meetings. Let's call it a

almost knocking off the glasses on his face. My date will be arriving FiFi's soon.

walk in, slicked in a sexy black number and sharp

it together, Ashton. This isn't your first rodeo. You've had all sorts

a woman's attention. With a face and body like mine, I attract lots of women even when I don't mean to. It's one of the perks of being THE ASHTON ROLLINS, standing at six foot three, with gold locks

shirt. For one night, I want to introduce the real Ashton Rollins to

when I enter the diner. My date continues to pat some more blush onto her red cheeks while I walk to

extended for a handshake. Too formal? Too stiff? I am not sure how dates work. Never had to put