Igniting Ash

by Stacie, M. A.

  “Come on. Inside, and then you can talk to me.”

  Shaking his head, he swiped at his mouth again and followed her inside. With each step he racked his brains for what he was going to tell her. A stomach upset wasn’t feasible if he wanted her to stay the night.

  He desperately wanted her tonight. She would remove the chill where nothing else could. He doubted she’d be willing to stay if he was sick.

  “Would you like some water?” she asked as they entered his flat. He watched her drop her bag onto the couch and remove her thin coat. His mouth dropped open as he drank in the slim-fitting blue dress she wore.

  “You look…um…wow.” He offered her a weak smile.

  “You asked me to come to you when I’d finished at the shelter. I came, and it’s lucky I did. Isn’t it?” Shifting closer, she stood in front of him. “Let me get you that water. You’re still very pale.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Liar. I see what you’re trying to hide.”

  He winced, raising his hands to grasp her ponytail. He tugged so that she had to lift her chin. “You always have. Maybe others don’t care enough to look.”

  “Or maybe I’m the only one you can’t hide from.”

  Such a simple statement that had his knees buckling from the truth it held. Lying to her had never been possible, that’s why he dodged the truth or didn’t answer at all.

  “Shit, Em, what am I supposed to do with you?” He combed his fingers through her ponytail before grasping hold of it again. “You twist me up. I can’t fucking think straight. But at the same time you give me balance. What the fuck is that?”

  Emma smiled and placed a kiss on his chin. “Confusing, isn’t it? I get it, Ash. You get to me the same way. It’s just that…”

  “What?”

  “Well.” Her eyes darted over his shoulder and she took her bottom lip between her teeth. He allowed her time to gather her thoughts before she continued to speak. “My life is an open book to you and I think that’s why I can deal with how you and I are evolving. You know everything about me, whereas you hold too much inside. I suppose I shake your control. You struggle to deal with it. That’s why you struggle to deal with me. Am I right?”

  Asher groaned. Bloody woman had hit the nail on the head.

  “But, before you answer that, and before we have the conversation I hope we’re going to have, you’ll probably want to go and clean up.”

  Asher took it as an opportunity to think, locking himself in the bathroom and trying to sort through the whirling thoughts in his head. His guts still roiled, his throat still burned, and the guilt he always felt whenever he spoke to his mother took days to dissipate. He couldn’t imagine being able to share what he held inside. He wouldn’t want to pollute Emma with the venom that came from that night. She’d saved him with that one piece of advice and a ten pound note. He’d never forgotten what she’d done for him. Could he tell her the truth of the situation?

  Brushing his teeth, he attempted to mask the acid-burn near his tonsils. Inhaling slowly, he filled his lungs before blowing out as much negative energy as he could. Tonight was meant to be special. A night where he and Emma could talk through what had occurred the night before. He’d wanted to enjoy their time tonight, yet now it was tainted.

  “Ash, are you okay?”

  Opening the door, he couldn’t miss the tremor of his hand. Emma came across the room, concern marring her delicate features. When had he let his guard slip around her? When had he allowed her in? He wasn’t able to pin-point the moment but it was clear it had happened because something unbelievable was happening. Something he had no words for just yet.

  He leaned against the bathroom door, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Feeling any better?”

  Asher shook his head and held his hand out for her. Without questioning, she placed her hand in his and stood in front of him.

  “I am now,” he admitted, hating how gruff he sounded. He pulled her in, hugging her close.

  She soothed him, having her in his arms gave him the strength he needed to verbalise what churned within him.

  “I took a phone call before you arrived tonight,” he whispered, resting his chin on top of her head.

  “Phone calls don’t normally make people sick,” she pointed out, brushing her cheek against his chest.

  His arms tightened around her. “You’re right. But then most people don’t accept calls from prison inmates.”

  She stiffened; he expected it. His heart started to pound, and his mouth grew dry. Telling her this was huge for him. It was a step he’d never taken before.

  “Tell me, Asher. Just say it.” She grasped the front of his T-shirt, tilting her head back to see him.

  “My mum. I took a call from my mum. She’s in prison. For life.”

  “What? I…Oh, Asher.” Her beautiful blue eyes glistened while she fumbled for the right thing to say. He knew there wasn’t one. Even she couldn’t say the right words.

  “Don’t give her your sympathy. She doesn’t deserve it.”

  “I’m not.” She flattened both palms against his chest. “I’m giving it to you. Talking to her upsets you.”

  “No.” He denied it, twisting his body and trying to turn away from her. Emma held him firm. Of course, if he’d honestly wanted to he could have lifted her out of his way. Admitting that to himself, he slumped back against the wall, keeping her pressed against him. “The entire fucking situation upsets me. Each time I speak to her I remember. I relive it.”

  Raising her head, Emma’s blue eyes met his. “What? What is it?”

  He stalled. Moving his hands to her head, to grasp her ponytail. Blurting it all seemed wrong, too blunt. However, didn’t people say a short, sharp shock worked best?

  He thought, the words forming, the truth clawing up his throat. The purge was painful. “My mother is in prison for murder. She killed my father the night you loaned me the money and your gloves.”

  Her eyes bulged, her jaw dropping in stunned surprise. Her mouth bobbed open and closed. He’d have laughed if he hadn’t felt so nauseous.

  “I don’t—” She started to speak when the icy shattering of glass rent the air.

  “Downstairs,” Asher stated, dropping his hands. He walked over to the stairs, their conversation lying in tatters on the floor. “Stay up here,” he demanded, thundering down the stairs to the shop. With trepidation, he walked into the bookshop, flipping on the light. Emma’s gasp from behind him told him she hadn’t listened to his request.

  He stared across the room. Shards of glass littered the floor; a sea of diamonds flowing over the dark wood. The entire front window had smashed.

  “Asher?”

  Still not turning around, he took a step further into his shop. He hands fisted by his sides as he noticed something resting in the centre of the glittering, broken glass.

  A brick.

  His window had been smashed on purpose.

  Chapter 17

  Emma

  Emma clung to Asher’s arm while he spoke to the police. Confusion reigned. Her thoughts spun around so fast she felt dizzy. Tension thickened the air, Asher’s muscles taut and stiff. He’d given the officer a statement, explaining what little they’d seen, and they’d watched as the glazier they’d called boarded the window up. The replacement would be ordered and fitted as soon as possible. Until then the only natural light in the bookshop came from the glass in the front door.

  “That’s about all we can do for you tonight I’m afraid,” the officer said, pocketing his notebook. “If there’s anything else you remember call me on the number I’ve given you.”

  Asher thanked him, but made no move for the door. Instead, he watched as the policeman left, taking the brick that had done the damage, and ruined their evening, with him.

  “I guess we should start the clean-up,” she said sadly.

  Pulling his arm out of her hold, Asher side-stepped her. “You go home. I’ll be okay with this. It won’t t
ake long.”

  “Asher?”

  “Seriously, there’s no point in this ruining the evening for both of us.”

  She moved closer to him, taking another step when he tried to shift away from her. She wasn’t going to allow another retreat from him. They had come too far, and there was still so much to discuss. His revelation about his mum was something she struggled to comprehend. How did he manage to carry on knowing what she’d done to his dad? How did he resolve that in his head enough to be able to speak to the woman? Just hearing about it all made her want to call her own mum. However, she was going nowhere right now.

  “I’m not leaving,” she stated, standing firm and staring him down. “If we both clean up it’ll take half the time. Then we can talk.”

  Asher stared back at her as he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. No way was she going let him push her out. “I’m not going, Asher.”

  Closing his eyes, he dropped his head and groaned. Emma raised her hand and touched his forearm, about to speak again when he started first.

  “I can’t deal with this.” His words were little more than a whisper. “I can’t go over it all, Em.”

  Her heart broke for him. “You have to. I don’t want to push you, but I think you need to. Besides, if we’re going to keep moving forward with this,” she gestured between them, “then discovering things about one another is part of the journey. Nothing you could tell me about your parents would make me walk away. What they did doesn’t affect how I see you.” She touched his face, pressing her palm against his cheek. “I think you’re pretty amazing.”

  Asher covered her hand with his and interlocked their fingers. “Come with me.” Without another word, he led her up to his flat and sat her down on the couch. Instead of sitting next to her, he sat down on the coffee table, facing her. Again, he took hold of her hands. They were both shaking.

  “Do you know who did this?” she asked, her voice shaking too.

  “No.” He exhaled loudly. “It’s not about that. Before that…we were talking.”

  Seeing the upset mar his features, she tried to side step the conversation. “We don’t have to. After all that’s happened we can wait. When you’re ready, Ash.”

  “I’ll never be really ready. So now is as good as it’ll ever be.”

  Clutching his hands tighter, she offered him a small nod of her head and stayed silent. Her stomach clenched, her pulse kicking into a rapid beat against her skin. Telling herself to calm down didn’t help. Even though this wasn’t her story to tell.

  “The night you saw me in town and loaned me the cash was the night my life was turned upside down. I didn’t know it at the time. I just had to get away from that fucking house.”

  Emma felt sick, the knotting in her guts increasing. “It was your mum who hurt you? The scars on your stomach?”

  “What? Hurt?” He paused. “Oh, no. No, it wasn’t her. Mum used words instead of hands. And the scars are burns from cigarettes. She didn’t smoke.”

  She flinched; the cold tone he used hitting her hard. Asher had been through so much. More than any child should.

  “Before I saw you that night her boyfriend had decided I needed educating. I can’t even remember what I was punished for now. I can’t remember most of his reasons. What I do recall is the pain, blood, and bruises. As well as the odd cigarette being put out on my skin. That’s not something I’ll forget easily.”

  He stared at their hands, flicking his thumb slowly over her knuckles. Once again, she allowed him the time to think. Truthfully, she was clueless as to what she could say to make things better for him. His memories couldn’t be erased.

  “Dad called while I was still crying in my room. He flipped out and told me to get out—to go to his place and he’d talk to my mum.” His brows furrowed. “They never talked. They argued. All the time. They’d stopped being in the same room years before as all they did was spit venom at one another. I don’t even know how they managed to be civil with each other long enough to create me.”

  “Alcohol does fantastic things to people,” Emma remarked bitterly.

  “That’s what I assume too. Sad, isn’t it? When you realise the only reason you’re here is because your parents were plastered one night.”

  Her eyes pricked with tears. “You’re still here. Regardless.”

  The corners of his mouth tilted downward and he gave a small shrug of his shoulders. He carried on as though he hadn’t really heard her. “I grabbed my coat and ran out of the flat. She was coming up the stairs as I left. I pushed passed her but she grabbed me. She saw the cuts on my face. She saw the tears. I stared at her, waited for her to sympathize. Waiting for her to be my mother! But when she said nothing—didn’t even ask me what had happened, I pushed her away and walked.”

  “Into town.”

  “Yeah. I thought I’d sort my head out before I went to my dad’s place. He lived in a shared house with three other blokes. They weren’t happy when I was around, less so when I was crying.”

  “Oh, Asher.” Leaning forward she engulfed him in a tight hug. She needed it as much as he did. She wanted the connection, wanted to warm her ice cold bones with his comfort and heat. He kept his hands in his lap, though he did nuzzle her neck and delivered a small kiss to the tender skin just underneath her ear. “My angel,” he whispered. “You saved me that night.”

  “I just gave you some money,” she replied, rearing back so that she could look into his eyes. Sadness filled his normally warm, comforting stare. However, the longer she looked, the more she caught something else. Maybe even a glint of hope. She wasn’t sure.

  “That money kept me away from the house. Away from the horrid things that were happening there.”

  “The night your mum…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. The words dispersed like ash in her mouth. He finished it for her. “The night my mother killed my father. He went around there after I called him. I was upset, and he knew what had happened. Again. From the bits I’ve pieced together he went to the flat to face her boyfriend. To him she wasn’t worth arguing with. He told me he was going to a solicitor. He was going to get me away from there.”

  “But she didn’t give him the chance.”

  She watched his throat constrict, his eyes closing for a moment before his deep brown, tortured pools met hers. “She stabbed him. In the thigh. She hit a fucking artery. My dad didn’t stand a chance.”

  Emma’s mouth went dry, goose bumps springing up along her arms. “Oh, my God. Oh, shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  There were no words that she could think of to bring balance to Asher’s messed up world. He’d had so much to deal with, so much hurt, and yet here he was. He may not have overcome his past, but he was coping as best he could.

  “You helped me too that night. In fact, it’s because of you that I decided to work at the shelter. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to help.”

  “You did. So much.”

  Emma kissed him. Gentle at first, then stronger, more forceful as she offered him every ounce of support she had. Her heart bled for him, her soul weeping tears of sympathy. How was anyone supposed to get over that kind of loss? When he said he was alone he wasn’t kidding, and that fact made her want to console him all the more.

  Asher’s fingers pushed into the hair at the back of her head, holding her close while he adjusted the angle. Emma hummed, scooting to the very edge of the couch. Their kiss deepened, intensity heightening. Asher pulled her closer, her knees nudging to edge of the coffee table.

  “Ash,” she gasped, tearing her lips from his. “We shouldn’t. All that glass. You’re upset. I’m…Well, I…”

  He hung his head, his hands clenching as he dropped them into his lap. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare apologise, Asher Harris. For a start, I kissed you. I just needed you to see that I’m here for you. That I care. You’re not alone.”

  He offered up an uneasy smile. “I didn’t like you being there for
me at the start.”

  “Have I changed your mind?”

  “Getting there,” he agreed. “Tonight, I kinda like it. Actually, I need it.”

  Her insides fluttered. “Then you have me for the rest of the night. I’m here.”

  “Angel,” he sighed, reaching between them to take hold of her hand.

  She still had questions, still wondered so much about the night he was left alone and bruised. She considered saving her inquiries for another time, worried asking him too much would cause him to close himself off. For once, she couldn’t stop the words coming out. She asked. “Did you find your father, Asher? Did you see what she’d done to him?”

  His swallow was audible. “No. Her boyfriend was stoned up in the bedroom. Seems she ran up to tell him my dad was bleeding out. Instead of helping her, the guy ran out, shouting that she was dangerous. Neighbours called the police.”

  “But how did you find out?”

  “I finally plucked up the courage to go home, decided I could only hide for so long. I rounded the corner to the flats only to see it taped off by the police.” He focused on her. “I knew. That moment I knew, and I thought I was free. I thought it was her and I’d be able to live with my dad.”

  “I’m so sorry, Ash. Nobody should have to deal with what you had to.”

  “You’re right there. So you see I’m not great when it comes to being friends or relationships.”

  Emma opened her mouth, ready to protest when Asher placed a finger over her lips. “And yet I’m here with you. Wanting the friendship. Wanting the relationship. You’re under my skin, Emma Carnes. You’re in a place no one has ever been. I’m clueless when it comes to working out what to do next. I just know I’d like to try with you.”