#Chapter 175: Cynthia’s Mine

Asher stilled. His eyes went wide for a second or two. His jaw slackened. “What?” I sucked in a shaky breath and asked again, “Did you punch Lamar?” “Cynthia.” I braced myself. Was he about to tell me what I feared most: that he had hit Lamar, and I was all wrong about him? I held my breath as he spoke. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” he said. “You didn’t punch him?” I asked again. “Punch him? I haven’t even seen him.” He inched closer to me. “What’s all this about? Did something happen to Lamar?” I wanted to believe him. I almost did. But those bloody knuckles weighed on my mind. Would Asher work out so hard that he’d hurt himself? It just seemed so unlikely. “He has a black eye,” I said. “Whoever did it knocked him unconscious. I saw him in the hospital.” “Well, that sucks for him,” Asher said, not the least bit sympathetic. “What does that have to do with me?” I watched him, ready to track every twitch of reaction, as I said, “He said you punc