Asher (Ashes & Embers Book 6)

by Carian Cole

  “Honestly? Yes. Being with you and Kenzi, and hopefully having a baby, is worth it. Please understand that just because I’m ready to leave my band, I’m not asking you to leave yours, Ash. I’d never, ever do that.”

  “I know that, love. I wouldn’t have to leave permanently. I can still write songs, do some live shows, be involved. Believe it or not, I’d be happy with that. We could finally do all the other things we’ve talked about. We could travel. Build our dream house. Get the dog you’ve always wanted. I might let you convince me to get one of those baby goats you love.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “And, yeah, another baby or two,” I say playfully.

  The more I talk about it, the more I realize I’ve wanted this change for a long time.

  Her face lights up. “Ash…I’d love all of that. If I’m not strapped to my band, at least I could travel with you when you can’t be home.”

  “That would work,” I say slowly, letting it all sink in. “We could definitely make that work.”

  All of a sudden, I feel lighter. As if some massive weight that I didn’t even know was there has been lifted off my head and chest.

  “I’ll talk to the guys this week. How do you think the girls are going to feel about you leaving the band?” I swat a bug away from my face and push my hair back over my shoulder.

  She shrugs and slowly moves her hand over my leg, sliding her fingers into the frayed hole in my jeans to trace the tattoo on my thigh.

  “They know my heart isn’t in it anymore. Plus, I’ve been getting headaches in the studio and on stage. I don’t know why, but it’s like I can’t deal with the noise anymore, or the running around. I feel off. It’s hard to focus, and the girls keep getting irritated with me. I don’t blame them. They can replace me. I’m ready to move on. I’ve already talked to them about it.”

  “Okay.” The wind blows her blonde hair across her face, and I gently comb it back with my fingers so I can see her eyes. I make a mental note to remind her to make an appointment with the doctor this week to find out why she’s getting headaches.

  “We’re really gonna do this?” I grin. “It’s a big jump.”

  It’s huge. It’s crazy. But it also feels right.

  “It’s what I want, Ash.” The gold flecks in her eyes dance under the sun, mesmerizing me. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I know it’ll be hard. I know it’s a sacrifice for both of us. But it’s really what I want.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it too. I don’t know why I’ve been afraid to admit it or talk about it. I think I was afraid you’d be disappointed in me. Think I was a quitter or a failure.”

  “Never. Changing your life to be happy doesn’t make you a failure, hon. Because of how you grew up, you think you have to be the rock star. You think you have to take care of everyone. It’s all you know. But ya know what? You are a star. You always will be. It doesn’t have to be all you are, though. It’s okay to step back. Enjoy everything you’ve worked for.”

  All true. What’s the point of working my ass off if I can’t ever be in my own house? Or spend quality time with my wife and my daughter? See my family more? Sleep? I watched my parents go through this, and it almost tore them apart.

  They stepped back. Re-prioritized. Made major changes. It saved their marriage and their family. They’ve never been happier.

  There’s no way in hell I’m going to risk my marriage or let us continue to be unhappy and lonely.

  She moves her lips across my hand to kiss my gunmetal wedding band. Her eyes close for a few moments, then slowly open. “How do you feel about having another baby? Before I get too old?”

  Smiling, I touch her chin and lift her face up to mine. “You’re not even twenty-nine yet, silly.”

  “I know, but—”

  I hush her with a long kiss. “I want a baby,” I whisper.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “I’m not giving you an ultimatum, Ash. I want to be with you no matter what. Even if things stay the way they are. Even if we don’t have another baby. I haven’t been happy lately, but I’ll learn to find new ways to be happy if our lives stay this way. So you can keep going full force with your career, if that’s what you truly want. I’ll never talk about being unhappy again. I’ll be your biggest cheerleader. Always. I love you enough to do that.”

  She means every word. She’d give up the new life she’s dreaming of to let me throw myself into my career. She’d wait—right by my side—until I’m ready to take a step back. She wouldn’t resent me or hold it against me because she’s not like that. She’d absorb my happiness.

  That’s what love is.

  That’s how I know I’m making the right decision. Nothing is more important than our happiness and our future together.

  “I know, baby. I love you so fuckin’ much for loving me like you do. Right now, I feel happier than I have in a real long time.” She smiles, and the worry visibly lifts from her eyes. “We grew up so fast, Em. Had crazy success so fast. I’ll be thirty soon, but I feel like I’ve been living for sixty years already. I don’t need more fame or money. I do need more of you, though.”

  She smiles and tightens her hold on me. “You’re sure? You don’t have to decide today.”

  “I think I decided a while ago, Em. I just didn’t know how to admit it.”

  “Are we crazy for doing this? Walking away from success? Do we need our heads examined?”

  I lift my shoulder in a shrug. “Probably. I don’t even care, babe. When have we ever done anything normal?”

  Laughing, she leans up to kiss me. “I love you and our abnormal ways.”

  I keep my arms around her, not letting her pull back from the kiss. “We’ll figure everything out, baby. I promise.” Capturing her lips with mine, I slide my hands under the fabric of her shirt to caress her lower back.

  The sun has made her skin deliciously soft and warm. Her lips part, and she moans softly when I suck her lower lip between mine. I drag my fingertips up to her chest, skimming over the lace cup of her bra. Perfect nipples harden against my palms.

  “We should get pregnant here,” I whisper against her lips.

  She inhales a quick breath. “I’d love that, but I’m still on the pill.”

  “Stop taking it.”

  “I’ll flush them as soon as we get home.”

  I move my lips across her cheek, pushing her hair out of the way to kiss her neck. “We could still practice while we’re here…”

  She giggles as I nip at her neck. “There was a guy hiking earlier. He might see us…”

  As much as I want her right here, right now, I don’t want to risk another man seeing her undressed.

  Brushing my lips across her ear, I breathe softly. “How ’bout we go home, get in the hot tub, make love under the stars, then eat our weight in ice cream?”

  She snakes her arms around my neck and presses her mouth against my temple. “I can’t wait.”

  Before we part, I cup her face in my hands, staring straight into her eyes. “I love you twice—now and forever.”

  She smiles dreamily at our special quote and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

  “I love you twice.”

  We jump off the rock together, but I’m not abandoning the idea of coming back here in a few weeks with a little tent to make love in.

  “Whoa.” She shakes her head a little. “I feel kinda dizzy.”

  “Are you alright?”

  “I think so. It must be those kisses of yours.” She smiles and turns to walk back toward the path but falters for a moment, lifting her hand to rub her forehead.

  “You okay, baby?” I ask, catching up to her.

  She shakes her head, moving her hand to the back of her neck like she’s squeezing a sore muscle. She turns to the right, then the left, her movements erratic, almost robotic, her feet turned at an awkward angle. I start to laugh, thinking she’s acting goofy, until her legs suddenly buckle beneath her, and she stumbles
dangerously close to the cliff.

  “Em!” I rush forward and grab her arm just as the thin earth of the edge crumbles under her feet, completely giving out beneath her. She lets out a yelp, grasping at the dirt and grass with her free hand as she falls.

  I’m brought to my knees by the dead weight of her hanging from my arm.

  I gasp. “Holy shit.”

  “Asher.” Her voice quivers with terror as she dangles over the river below us.

  “I got you,” I say, breathless. “Hold on to my arm.”

  Instead, she flails her free arm and legs, trying to find something to grab on to on the slippery mountainside.

  “I—I can’t get a grip on anything,” she sobs. “I’m slipping.”

  “Grab on to my arm with your other hand. I won’t let you fall.” Not breaking eye contact with her, I run my free hand over the ground around me, trying to find something—anything—to give me leverage, but there’s nothing but dirt and smooth rock.

  My heart pounds so violently with fear-fueled adrenaline, my vision blurs. Shaking my head to fight it off, I refocus my eyes on hers and gather my wits. She only weighs about 130 pounds. I work out almost every day. I know I can lift her up if I can get leverage. There’s no way my wife is falling into that river.

  “Ash…” Her green eyes stare up at me. Dark and pleading.

  “It’s okay.” My voice, the very thing I’m known for, cracks and completely annihilates all attempts at strength and confidence. “I got you. Hang on to my arm. Squeeze it tight, and don’t let go.”

  She grasps my arm tighter. Her long, pink fingernails dig into my flesh as I try desperately to pull her up. Instead, I’m inching closer to the edge. Like tiny razors, her nails rake deeper into my skin and slowly drag downward, slipping in the sweat coating my skin. Thin trails of blood begin to ooze in their wake.

  “Fuck.”

  “Don’t let me go.”

  “Never.”

  Scooting down on my stomach, I reach frantically with my other hand and try to grab on to any part of her—her hair, her shirt, anything—but I can’t reach.

  She flails. The erratic movement makes her hand slip.

  Out of my grasp.

  “No!” I scream. “No—”

  My heart stops.

  My breath stops.

  My entire world stops as she falls—so fast yet so slow—to the water below. Her desperate, gut-wrenching scream echoes through the mountains surrounding us.

  “Ember!” Her name strangles from my raw throat as I scramble to my feet and run like a wild animal down the path, searching frantically for a clearing where I can jump into the water to get to her. I yank my cell phone out of my back pocket to call 9-1-1 for help.

  The screen flashes.

  No connection.

  Fuck. Fuck!

  “I’m coming!” I yell to the right, over the side of the mountain. Low, thin branches whip into my face and arms, scratching my flesh and tangling in my hair. I don’t care. I just need to get to her.

  I can’t lose her.

  “Hold on, baby. I’m coming.” By the time I reach the clearing near the bottom of the mountain, I’m gulping for air. My T-shirt is soaked in sweat. I scan the water. Where are you?

  Finally, I see the pink fabric of her shirt about twenty feet away.

  “Ember! I’m coming!” I jump into the water, and fuck, it’s freezing.

  I take deep, even breaths to stave off the chill and wade toward her...praying and begging with every horrific moment that passes.

  She has to be okay.

  Choking back sobs, I pull her limp body from between the large rocks she’s wedged against and cradle her head in my hands.

  “I’m here, baby. You’re okay.” I smooth wet hair from her face to reveal her beautiful eyes staring blankly past my face, to the sky above us. Lifeless. “You’re okay.”

  My body trembles with chills as I carry her to the edge of the river and gently lay her on the ground before climbing out of the river to kneel beside her. A new flash of fear wafts over me when I see her lips and skin have started to turn a pale blue. I swallow hard over the lump in my throat as blood begins to seep from the back of her head onto the dirt around her.

  “Ember...” My voice is a raspy whisper as I reach for her wrist to check for a pulse, but the uncontrollable shaking of my body makes it impossible to feel even a faint beat.

  I’m frozen, clinging desperately to her hand, pressing it to my chest as if my own insanely beating heart can somehow bring her back to life. Our entire life together bolts through my mind. I’m paralyzed by it. Every moment of our fairytale, crazy, whirlwind love story flips by like the pages of a book.

  Our first kiss.

  Our first date.

  Our first time.

  Our wedding.

  Our child.

  Our bands.

  Our home.

  Our millions of slow and frenzied kisses and hugs.

  Our everything.

  We promised each other forever. There’s no way in hell forever ends here like this.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  “Move.” I’m shoved aside, the force almost pushing me back into the river. Dazed, I stare at the hiker we saw earlier who’s now leaning over my wife. Pushing his fist into her chest. His mouth on hers. For a quick moment I want to bury my fist in his face for violating the most precious gift in my life.

  Ember and I have only ever kissed each other. It was our promise when we fell in love so young. Our sacred gift to each other. Our bodies and our hearts would always only belong to us.

  “Get your ass off this mountain and call 9-1-1!” he yells, snapping me back to reality. “Now!”

  I have no memory of running down to the main road with my arm dripping blood and nearly getting run over as I jump in front of a car to flag it down. I don’t remember the frantic emergency call I made, or the ambulance coming.

  All I remember is the love of my life begging me not to let her go, and the promises I made.

  And then broke.

  “Ash?”

  Hours ago, I forced everyone to leave the hospital. They left slowly. Reluctantly.

  My brothers. My friends. My parents. My grandmother. My daughter.

  God. I should be with Kenzi right now, but I can’t leave Ember’s side. The look in Kenzi’s eyes as she walked out the door still haunts me.

  I’m not at all surprised my best friend, Toren, is still here.

  He crosses the dim private room to where I’m sitting in a hard plastic chair, hunched over the side of Ember’s bed. He touches my shoulder and leaves his hand there. “I’m here.”

  I nod, not taking my eyes off my wife’s bruised and swollen face. Not letting go of her hand. Not moving an inch away from her.

  “Your parents took Kenzi home with them. She’s scared and confused, so we thought it’d be best if she stayed with them.”

  I nod again. I don’t want my fourteen-year-old daughter to see her parents like we are right now—bloody and broken.

  Tor squeezes my shoulder. “Let me take you home.”

  I shake my head, my eyes still glued to Ember’s face. “No.”

  “You’ve got blood all over you. You’ve been here for over twenty hours. You’re exhausted and hungry and—”

  “I’m not leaving her.” I raise her cold hand to my lips to press a kiss against her wedding ring.

  She’s always loved that.

  “Asher...you gotta get some rest.”

  I squeeze Ember’s hand tighter, watching her for an eye blink, a tiny twitch of her lips—anything. “No.”

  He lets out a deep sigh. “Then I’m not leaving, either.”

  I’d moved past the point of total exhaustion hours ago and am now in that zombie-like autopilot mode that takes over where nothing seems real anymore. I keep thinking this must be a horrible dream and I’ll wake up any second and everything will be back to normal.

  But with every minute that ticks by, the awful r
eality of the situation crashes in.

  I’m wide awake. Ember is asleep.

  Both of us trapped in a nightmare.

  Three Days Later

  “Mr. Valentine, I’m going to respectfully request you go home and rest. I assure you, your wife is in the very best hands.”

  “I’m going to respectfully tell you there’s no fucking way I’m leaving.”

  Sighing, the gray-haired doctor walks to the other side of Ember’s bed, checks the various monitors she’s hooked up to, then gives me a well-trained, compassionate smile. He takes his glasses off and puts them in the front pocket of his white coat.

  I shift in the hard chair and lean my elbows into the mattress. I’ll spend the rest of my life sitting next to this bed as long as my wife is in it.

  “It’s been over seventy-two hours,” he says, his tone softer. “Clinically, she—”

  I snap my head up to glare at him. “Don’t start that technical mumbo-jumbo doctor talk again. I don’t want to hear it.”

  He clears his throat. “Fine. No more white-coat talk. I’ll talk to you man to man. Husband to husband. Your wife’s injuries...the brain trauma is severe. I believe she’s slipping into a permanent vegetative state.”

  Pressure builds in my chest, constricting my heart and lungs. A ball of thick agony rolls up into my throat, choking me.

  Suffocating me.

  I can’t breathe.

  Hot tears well in my eyes as I reach up and gently stroke Ember’s cheek.

  She’s sleeping. She’ll wake up.

  “The chances of her recovering are extremely slim,” the doctor says. “I’m very sorry.”

  I close my eyes, let out a deep breath. I refuse to look at his face and hear his words.