Asher (Ashes & Embers Book 6)

by Carian Cole

  The night ends up being the best we’ve had so far—the entire band was on point. It reminds me why I love music so much—the way it can connect people on so many levels. I haven’t felt so completely in sync with the guys in a long time.

  “You should sing with us tomorrow night before we leave New York,” I say to Evan backstage.

  “Did you see that crowd?” Tor says. “They were like sardines out there. Fuckin’ insane.”

  Evan laughs. “We’re heading back home tomorrow. But tonight was great.” He holds his hand out for me to shake. “There’s nobody else I’d get on stage with, man.”

  “You still living in New Hampshire?” I pull on my leather jacket.

  He nods. “Yup. Same house.”

  Even though we’ve lived less than forty miles away from each other for years, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen him out and about.

  “We’re playing two local clubs when we swing back home. You should join us.”

  He cocks his head, one side of his mouth tilting up as he mulls it over. “Send me a text. I’ll think about it.”

  “You got it.”

  “Hey, you know a kid named Sailor?”

  I nod. “Yeah, he’s good people. He’s been to my house a few times, hangs out with Kenzi and Rayne. Quiet. Not an asshole. He played guitar in my backyard—the kid’s got some serious talent.”

  “Good to hear. We’re considering him taking my place in No Tomorrow. The guys want to come out of hiatus. I’ll be staying behind the scenes—writing songs. We think he’d make a good front man.”

  My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Never heard him sing.”

  “He’s got a wicked set of pipes on him. He kinda sounds like me. It’d be a good fit.”

  “Damn. I had no idea. He’s young.”

  “The guys don’t mind, long as he’s serious.”

  “Hope it works out. I like Sailor,” I say. “Hey—you and Piper should come by for dinner sometime. We’ll catch up.”

  A slow smile crosses his lips. “Hit us up after the holidays. We’d love to catch up.” He waves his hand around the room. “Good seein’ you guys. Thanks for tonight.”

  “Damn.” Tor appears at my side after Evan leaves. “I can’t believe I just played on stage with Evan Von Fucking Bleu. My hands were shaking. Would it have been lame if I’d asked him for his autograph?”

  “Probably.” Laughing, I head for the tour bus in the parking lot, checking my phone on the way.

  Still no texts or calls from Ember.

  What the fuck?

  I type a quick text:

  Me: I hope you’re feeling better. I miss you. Text or call me as soon as you can. Just got on the bus, taking a quick shower. Love you. Xo

  As I’m drying off in the small bathroom, my text chimes with the Ember tone.

  Thank fuck!

  Ember: I’m so sorry. I’ve been sleeping and my phone battery was dead.

  Me: Are you okay? It’s been three days. I thought you moved out.

  Ember: OMG no. Why would I move out? I just spent $20k on new stuff for this house.

  Me: I don’t know. A simple text or phone call would’ve been nice. Our landline still works.

  Ember: I’m sorry. I guess I just wasn’t thinking.

  I climb into my bunk and pull the curtain across for privacy so the guys coming on the bus don’t see me texting like a ghosted Tinder date.

  Me: Can I call you?

  Ember: Can we just text?

  I blink at the screen, hoping the words will rearrange themselves into “yes, call me!”

  They don’t.

  Still staring at the screen, I tug idly on my beard.

  Trying to read between the lines.

  What am I missing?

  Her avoidance is bothering me more than it should be.

  Am I a worrier? Yes. I’ll own that.

  But something about all this feels wrong to me, and I can’t put my fucking finger on it.

  Me: I really want to hear your voice, babe. I miss you.

  Ember: I miss you too, but I sound like crap. I’m coughing like crazy and I’m all congested.

  Me: Do you need to see your doctor?

  Ember: No. It’s just a cold.

  Me: I’d feel a lot better if I could just hear your voice for a minute. I don’t care what you sound like.

  Ember: I promise I’ll talk to you tomorrow. How did tonight go?

  Anger is slowly mingling with worry. Not being able to hear her voice brings back the hellish prison of the past I want to forget.

  Me: Tonight was lit. Evan from No Tomorrow was there and he sang a few songs with us. He fuckin’ killed it. Word spread fast and the place was jammed.

  Ember: That sounds awesome. Do I know Evan?

  Me: Yes. You’ve met him a few times. His wife took a video for me. She just sent it to me, actually. I’ll send it to you later.

  Ember: I can’t wait to see it. I should go. Call me tomorrow night?

  Me: I will. I hope you feel better, sweetheart. Do you have everything you need?

  Ember: Yes. Sarah’s been awesome. And Teddy has been cuddling me.

  The dog is getting more attention than me. How the hell is this my life?

  Me: Good. :-) Call me if you want to talk. Or if you want me to play you music. Anytime.

  Ember: Ok. xo You make sure you get some rest.

  I forward the video from Piper to Ember and type “I love you” in the text.

  No message read indicator shows up on the screen.

  Shit.

  The whispers of the gut are always right, and mine are screaming right now, waving bright-red flags.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  I wake up to a text from Ember.

  Ember: The video of you singing with Evan is awesome. I don’t remember him at all but your voices together are WOW! I watched it about five times.

  Me: This was nice to wake up to. :-)

  Ember: Good morning. xo

  Me: How ya feelin’?

  Ember: A little better.

  Me: Can I call you?

  Ember: Let’s talk on the phone tonight. I’m going to meet with Sarah in a few minutes.

  My teeth grind together.

  Me: You got something against my voice all of a sudden? ;-)

  Ember: I love your voice.

  Me: I love yours too. That’s why I want to hear it.

  Ember: I’m sorry. I still feel kinda yucky and I haven’t done any physical therapy in three days. I thought tonight after your show would be better.

  Me: Ok. I miss talking to you.

  Ember: I miss you a lot. Even more after seeing the video. Your voice gives me chills.

  Me: I could be giving you chills right now. Pick up the phone, baby.

  Ember: LOL you don’t give up, do you?

  Me: Never.

  Ember: Good. :-) I’m going to go now.

  Me: Text me some pix of you and Teddy. It sucks being on this bus all day.

  Ember: I will. You can send me some pix too. ;-)

  “You gonna spend the entire day staring at your phone again?” Tor mocks me as I walk past him in the narrow kitchen of the bus.

  I stick a pod in the coffee maker and hit the glowing blue button.

  “Look who’s talkin’.”

  Tor tosses his phone onto the table. “I don’t know how you do this for months. Or how you lived like this for years.” He stares out the window. “I’m going stir crazy in this tube on wheels.”

  “You get used to it,” Storm replies.

  Tor shakes his head at him. “I don’t even know what fuckin’ day it is.”

  “Who cares what day it is?” Mikah pushes past me to grab a coffee mug.

  “You get in touch with Ember?” Tor asks as I take a seat next to him.

  I rub my palms into my eyes. I slept like shit last night.

  “Yeah. She seems more like herself this morning.”

  Mikah scoffs in my direction. “Ash,
what the fuck are you bitchin’ for? You basically got your wife, and a new girlfriend, all wrapped in one.”

  My vision goes blood red as I glare at my brother, envisioning the best way to kill him without making a total mess.

  Tor grabs my arm. “Ash, ignore him. And, Mikah? Go fuck yourself.”

  “C’mon,” he says with a sneer. “I’m just kiddin’.”

  “It’s not funny,” Talon says. “You’re a douche.”

  “Says the guy who married a stranger.” Mikah lets out his evil laugh. “Is that like a running theme in this family now? Being married to someone you don’t even fucking know?”

  “You better get the hell out of my sight before I hurt you.” I seethe, clenching my fists. It’s taking every ounce of my control not to throw my brother off this bus in the middle of the interstate.

  He raises his hand to flip me off, and in a blink, Vandal grabs Mikah’s hand, spins him around, and pushes him facedown into the counter.

  “What the fuck?” Mikah yells, his cheek smashed against the granite, as Vandal wrenches his arm behind his back at an ugly angle. “You’re gonna break my fuckin’ arm.”

  “No.” Vandal’s voice is deep and eerily calm. “I’m gonna break both of them.”

  “As much as I’d love to see that, we kinda need a drummer,” Talon points out.

  We all watch, sipping our coffees and eating donuts, as Vandal zip ties Mikah’s hands behind his back, slaps duct tape over his mouth, and pushes him down the hall to his bunk.

  None of us say a word. None of us question why Vandal has the equivalent of a rape kit within reach in the kitchenette of our tour bus.

  Vandal shrugs casually when he returns to the table and picks up his protein shake. “I’ll cut him loose in half an hour. He’s not gonna die. I’m sick of hearing his shit.”

  Me: I just got back to the bus. I’m sorry it’s so late. You still awake?

  Ember: Yes. I’ve been reading.

  Me: Anything good?

  Ember: The story of us. xo

  Me: My favorite story. :-) Can we video chat?

  Ember: Okay. Let me get my laptop so I can see you on a bigger screen. I’ll chat you from there. :-)

  I do the same—grabbing my laptop and starting up the video chat program. I prop my pillows up behind me as I wait for the app to ring with her call.

  When the app trills, I hit connect. Video of my face fills a tiny rectangle in the upper right of the screen, but the area where her video is supposed to be is black.

  “Hi.” Her voice comes through the small speakers.

  I move my mouse around the screen. “I can’t see you.”

  “Oh,” she says. “I can see you.”

  “I can hear you, but I can’t see you. It’s black.”

  “Not sure why. I haven’t changed anything.” Her voice is thick and nasally—much worse than I was expecting her to sound. Now I feel bad for bugging her about not talking to me.

  “Wow, babe, you sound really stuffed up.”

  “I’m still all congested.”

  “You should take a hot shower and breathe in a lot of steam. You’ll feel better.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “Are you sure you have the settings right? The camera is enabled? It worked the last time we did video chat.”

  “I haven’t changed anything. It’s okay. I can see you.”

  “I wanted to see you, though. You want to try to FaceTime on your phone?”

  “No, I like this better. I don’t like the tiny screen.”

  I frown at the laptop and click the black, video-less area. Nothing changes. “I’m just bummed I can’t see you.” I wish she’d switch over to her phone so we can both see each other—small screen or not.

  “It’s probably for the best. I don’t look too great. It’s nice to see your smile.” She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Um…are you naked? Or just shirtless?”

  I laugh and tilt the screen so she can see the black cargo shorts I’m wearing. “Not naked,” I say. “I’ll take requests, though.”

  She laughs. “Ash…” The sound of ice tinkling in a glass drifts from the speakers. “I’m really sorry about the past few days.”

  “Babe, it’s okay. It’s not your fault you’re sick.”

  “It’s not okay. I didn’t know…” She pauses. “I didn’t know I would feel too icky to talk. I wouldn’t do that to you after what you’ve been through. I know it upsets you to not be able to talk to me.”

  Upset is an understatement.

  “Not gonna lie. I thought you left me. Especially when Sarah sounded sketchy.”

  “Sarah sounded sketchy?” A hint of fear pulses through her words.

  “I think I was making her nervous asking so many questions.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Em. It’s all good now.”

  “That’s all I want—everything to be good. I know we keep saying this…but can we put everything behind us? My accident, the memory loss, the past, the iPad thing, everything? Can we just start over?”

  I can’t tell if she’s congested, or if she’s quietly sobbing, but I’ve never heard such heartbreaking desperation in her voice.

  “Sweetheart, listen to me. We can start over a million times. A hundred fuckin’ million times. There’s no expiration date. I’m here. I’ll never give up on us. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m way more than sure.”

  The jingling of Teddy’s metal tags on his collar sound in the background—telling me he just jumped on the bed with her. If I close my eyes, I can see her softly petting him as he rests his head on her lap.

  “Can you ever love me again?” Her voice is a gut-wrenching mix of sadness and hope—shredding my heart and destroying my soul. The deep ache in my chest almost doubles me over.

  The woman I love more than anyone in the entire fuckin’ universe is asking me if I’ll ever love her again. She should never, ever question that.

  Before the accident, she never would have. The thought would never even enter her mind.

  Part of her doubt stems from the horrible shit that happened to us.

  But another part of it comes directly from me.

  Things I’ve said and done over the past few months.

  And that’s fucking killing me.

  “I shouldn’t have said that,” she says softly. “I know you love me.”

  I shake my head. “No. You should always say exactly what’s on your mind.”

  “I made you sad. I can see it on your face, and now I feel awful.”

  “You didn’t make me sad, Em.” I stare into the tiny camera, wishing I could see her looking back at me. “And, yes, I’ll love you again. I still love you. I’ll always love you.”

  “Even if I’m different than you remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” She lets out a relieved sigh, then says in a more upbeat tone, “That’s all I really needed to hear.”

  Grinning, I raise my eyebrows at the screen. “Is that all?”

  “Is there something you want me to hear?” She throws the flirty tone right back at me.

  “Lots, actually.”

  “Such as?” she urges playfully.

  I lean back against the pillows, stretching out, with the laptop balanced on my lap.

  “Like how much I miss you and can’t wait to kiss you.”

  “That’s funny,” she says. “I was thinking the same thing. And excuse me, are you always sitting around shirtless on the tour bus? Or is this a special viewing for me?”

  Laughing, I wink at the camera. “It’s just for you. If your camera was working, you could be doing the same.”

  “Aw. I’ll see if I can get it to work tomorrow. Seeing you like that is making me miss you even more, though.”

  We chat until we’re both fighting to stay awake, our voices growing woozy. Tonight’s been one of the best talk-a-thons we’ve had—bouncing bac
k and forth from flirty banter to deep questions, and I want it to last as long as possible. But it’s almost three a.m., and if I don’t get some sleep, I’ll be useless tomorrow.

  “I don’t want to go,” I finally say, straining to keep my eyes open. “But I should. You should get some rest too.”

  “I hate saying goodbye to you.”

  “I do too, babe.”

  “I’m going to go dream about you now. Remember you used to say that all the time when we were touring? Dream of us?”

  My heart kick-starts with surprise, and I sit up with a jolt, almost knocking the laptop over. “Yeah,” I reply, grinning. “I do.” I hope she sees the smile on my face, the excitement and hope in my eyes. “Dream of us, baby. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Flipping the laptop lid closed, I take a deep breath, my blood rushing with the adrenaline of realizing she just had another memory of us.

  In my mind, our love is like a book. I treasure every pageespecially those we haven’t written yet. But part of me will always hold the pages of our past close to my heart, and I’ll always hope that someday she’ll be able to look back to those chapters with me, and remember our story again.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  For the first time since I woke up in that hospital bed months ago, I feel good.

  I feel alive. Content.

  How much time has passed? I don’t know. I don’t even care.

  I refuse to let time haunt me, define me, or hinder me.

  Today is what matters to me, because that’s all I have. I can’t change the past. I can’t even remember the past. I learned the hard way that none of us know what tomorrow will bring.

  I still read the journals almost every day, but I’m not reading them for the sole purpose of finding out about past Ember or to spark a memory. Now, I read them to learn about the people in my life. Asher. Kenzi. Tor. Katherine. Sydni.