by Aly Martinez
“Where the fuck did she go?”
“I don’t know! Just come get me!” he responded.
“Okay. I’m on my way.” I hung up and started dialing Ash’s number.
I put the phone on speaker and tossed it on the bed then struggled to get dressed, pausing every few seconds to hit redial when it went to her voicemail.
“Come on, Ash. Where the fuck are you?” I mumbled, tugged my shoes on.
She still hadn’t answered when I left my apartment, and I had to regretfully give up calling in order to find Till.
After the third time calling, he finally answered.
“I’m headed over there now. Cops just left here,” he informed me without so much as a greeting.
“What the fucking hell is going on?” I asked, weaving though traffic.
“Good ol’ Debbie and Ray were blackmailing the judge to get custody of Q. Federal offense. Cops assume they were going to try to use him to extort money from me.”
“Oh, fuck!”
“Anonymous blonde dropped off a box full of evidence last night. Pictures, recorded conversations—you name it, the cops have it. Ray and Debbie are going to prison.”
I was vaguely aware that Till kept talking because I instinctually held the phone to my ear, but my mind was stuck on two words: anonymous blonde.
I knew.
I fucking knew.
“I’m a good person. I’ll prove that.”
Suddenly, an all-too-familiar pain settled in my gut.
“You’ll never have to see this criminal again.”
“Oh God,” I breathed, dropping the phone into my lap.
“Ash Mabie!” I yelled at the detective, slamming my fist on the table.
“Chill. That’s not helping,” Till scolded from beside me.
“Neither is sitting here, answering seven million questions, when we could be out looking for her.” I turned my head back to the detective. “When you could be out looking for her.”
“Calm down, son. Her picture and the plates have been distributed to all the officers in the city. We really just need to figure out who this girl is. As far as we can tell, Mabie doesn’t even have a daughter.”
“Yes, he does! She’s not a fucking figment of my imagination.”
“And you’re sure this is her?” he said, pushing a grainy surveillance photo in front of me.
“Yes,” I snarled, shoving it away.
I didn’t need to look at that picture again. Once had been more than enough. I didn’t need to see her usually bright eyes absent of all emotion or the way her confident shoulders rounded forward in defeat. But what killed me the most was that pain-filled grimace that didn’t deserve to be anywhere near her beautiful face. However, even with all of that . . . it was still Ash.
“Get Mabie’s ass in here,” I barked.
“He’s asked for an attorney. It’s going to take a little while before we can get in there to find out who she really is.”
“I swear to fucking God . . . I just told you who the fuck she is. Now, get up off your ass and find her! She’s only sixteen. She can’t be running the streets alone.” I huffed out a hard breath as my anger momentarily slipped, revealing the true anxiety. “Please. I’m begging you.”
I had never exactly been an optimist, so my mind began to spiral out of control with scenarios—none of which brought her back to me.
I dropped my head into my hands as I tried to get myself under control, but I couldn’t even catch my fucking breath.
“Can you give us a minute?” Till asked the officer when I began to break down.
“Sure. And you guys can head out whenever. I’ll give you a call with any information we receive.”
“Thanks,” Till replied.
But I kept my head buried in my hands.
With a loud sigh, he squatted down in front of me and grabbed the back of my neck. “All right. Let’s pull it together. You’re the logical one, remember? I’m the emotional one.” He tried to lighten the mood, but it was useless. My mind was trapped in the dark and vicious pits of worry.
“You don’t understand. She’s . . . different than we are, Till. She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, but she’s so fucking naïve. And now . . . she’s out there alone. She’ll trust damn near everyone she comes in contact with. If something happens to her—”
He quickly interrupted me. “Nothing is going to happen to her.”
“Please help me . . . I don’t deserve it, but please,” I began to plead. I was looking at my brother, but my words were aimed at each and every greater force in the universe that could possibly exist.
“You love her?” he asked, temporarily snapping me out of my downward spiral.
“She’s sixteen. At this point, I’m just—”
He interrupted me again. “I didn’t ask how old she was. I asked if you love her.”
“I’ve only known her a month,” I answered.
Only Till didn’t think it was an answer at all. “Again, not what I asked.”
Was I in love with Ash Mabie? I could have sat there for a decade and never given an adequate answer.
“I don’t honestly know. I think I’m a little fucked up in the whole love department.” I shook my head at my own assessment.
“You mean because you think you’re in love with Eliza?”
Oh. God.
My eyes jumped to his then, just as quickly, bounced away.
“Uh . . .” I stalled nervously. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I’m not stupid, Flint. I’ve always known you had a thing for her.”
Fuck. Shit. Damn. Multiplied by infinity.
“I’m sorry.” I looked away, embarrassed.
“What? Don’t be sorry. I get it. You forget I spent years pining over that woman. It fucking sucks.” He laughed. “We had shit for a mom. Then Eliza showed up one day, doing everything for you boys that a real mother should. It’s not hard to figure out how those lines got crossed for you. It never really bothered me until you moved out. Then it killed me because there is nothing in this world that I wouldn’t sacrifice for you . . . except her.”
“I never—” I started, but he kept talking over me.
“I knew you’d eventually get over it when you met someone. So I let it go. Probably for too long.”
“I’m over it,” I rushed out.
“Why? Eliza not good enough for you anymore?” He quirked a teasing eyebrow.
“Ash—” I started, and I swear to God he interrupted me again.
“But she’s only sixteen?”
“Yeah, but—”
Interrupted. Again.
“In a month?” He glared at me, unimpressed.
“I guess—”
Inter-fucking-rupted.
“You love her?” he asked again.
I was so frustrated by his constant disruptions that the word escaped my mouth without a conscious thought. “Yes!”
Yes?
No.
No?
Maybe?
Fuck.
Yes.
A world of hurt faded away with such a simple admission. I didn’t understand how, in such a short time, that crazy girl had sauntered in and twisted my life into something unrecognizable—but on the other hand, that was probably exactly how. With Ash, it didn’t matter that I was being smothered by gravity. I was more focused on her than I was on how impossible it felt to breathe. Air in my lungs wasn’t a priority when she was laughing beside me.
God, I’m such a dumbass.
Till watched me intently. “What was that? I didn’t hear you. Can you repeat that for me?”
“I said yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes. I love her!”
His signature one-sided grin popped up. “Then I’m gonna find her.”
“That easy, huh?” I asked sarcastically as the reality of my feelings continued to settle in my chest.
“No, it’s gonna be expensive as shit, but I owe you for sav
ing Eliza.”
“You don’t—”
He cut me off.
Again.
Son of a bitch!
“Yes I do. And if you love her, then she’s family. You know how I feel about my family.”
God, did I know how Till felt about his family. Just the fact that he was standing there after the hell I’d put him through over the last few months spoke wonders.
“I’m sorry.” I paused, waiting for his response.
When it appeared that he had no plans to interrupt me, I opened my mouth to continue my apology, but my asshole brother, who I equally wanted to punch and hug, got there first.
“We’ll call Leo. Get a referral for a good PI firm.” He smiled again, proving that he was, in fact, fucking with me.
His words were reassuring, and the levity of his attempted joke helped soothe my nerves.
Momentarily.
“What if . . . we can’t find her? Or what if . . . we do find her and I can’t fix this? I said some really shitty stuff.”
“We’ll deal with that when we get her somewhere safe. Besides, I have big plans to hold you down and shave that shit off your face. Not a woman in the world will be able to resist you. Well . . . except my wife.” He winked and punched me on the shoulder.
He was such a dick. It was easily one of the worst days of my life, and Till was cracking jokes at my expense.
I loved him for it.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“Thank me when she’s home.” He held my gaze for several beats in an unspoken promise.
A promise he more than kept.
FOR THE FIRST WEEK AFTER Ash had disappeared, I spent every waking moment driving around the city looking for her. Even Max and Donna got in on the action, toting a picture of her around and showing it to anyone they could find. I knew she wasn’t in the city anymore, but it was either keep busy looking for her or allow my head to implode while sitting at home and worrying about where the hell she was.
Finally, Ray Mabie admitted that Ash was actually his stepdaughter. Her last name was Carson, but she had elected to use Mabie even before her mother had taken her own life. While he’d never formally adopted her, he’d been a father to Ash since she was two. That was pretty much all the information he was willing to provide. With the knowledge that she had turned him in, he was reluctant to offer any possible guesses to her whereabouts. I plotted that man’s death enough over those first two weeks to secure myself a place on death row—even without committing the crime.
After two weeks, the car Ash had been driving was found abandoned at a truck stop an hour away. Bile had risen in my throat at the thought of her climbing into a random trucker’s cab. She was young and gorgeous—it wasn’t like she would’ve had a difficult time convincing some perverted scum to drive her out of town. Visions of her being taken advantage of led me to destroy my apartment until my upstairs neighbor called the cops. Not convinced that the paralyzed maniac shredding books and splintering furniture was mentally sound, they refused to leave me alone until Till showed up.
Unfortunately, he brought Eliza with him. The instant she walked into her old apartment, she burst into tears then begged me to move back into their house. But I couldn’t leave that place. I might have moved into that shithole because of the memories of Eliza, but I refused to leave because of the memories of Ash.
My life became a perpetual cycle of ups and downs. The day they found Ash’s car was really low for me. I was terrified something had happened to her. Then, two weeks later, I experienced one of the highest highs when surveillance video of her shoplifting from a convenience store turned up.
She wasn’t home, but she was still okay.
Still smiling.
Still laughing.
Still dreaming.
The private investigators Till had hired had more than proved to be good at their jobs, but Ash had proved to be better. It seemed they were always one step behind her. Luckily, she hadn’t gone far. Every time they managed to track her down, she was always within a two-hour radius of the city.
It gave me hope that she had plans to come back.
It also made me a little neurotic, because every single time I left my apartment, I unconsciously searched for her face. Every blonde I passed and every laugh I heard was always her.
It was never her.
I slept on that patch of weeds outside my apartment more times than I cared to admit over those first four weeks. She loved those damn weeds.
I just loved her.
I knew the investigators were costing Till a fortune. Though he never acknowledged that, nor did he seem to care—even as the weeks turned into months. Each time they popped up with some sort of information on the elusive Ash Mabie made them worth every penny.
Suddenly, at the one-year mark, Ash disappeared all over again.
We received a final video of her stealing clothes from a department store, narrowly escaping security. After that, she seemed to completely fall off the radar. I was devastated. Then I got pissed. Really fucking pissed. Sure, I’d said some mean shit to her, but no worse than the crap most people spouted in a fight. And there I was, using my brother’s money to stalk my ex-girlfriend.
I went to Till around the two-year mark, begging him to call the search off. He smiled and nodded, agreeing with me. He’d said all the right things, validating my feelings. Then, one month later, I received the usual “no news” e-mail update from the investigating firm. It infuriated me that he hadn’t stopped the search. We got into a huge fight that night, in which numerous punches were thrown, and it ultimately ended with us rolling around on the floor while Quarry acted as ref. Coincidentally, it was also the loudest I had laughed since Ash had taken off.
A lot of things happened over those years spent searching for Ash.
I couldn’t find her, but the most amazing thing happened: I found my fight for life again.
In desperate need of distraction, I threw myself into the gym and physical therapy. If and when I saw her again, I wanted to do it standing so I could tell her to fuck off eye to eye.
Or strip her naked and lose myself inside her.
Or send her packing without so much as a backward glance.
Or lock her in my bedroom so she could never leave again.
Or walk away, showing her exactly what she had been missing out on.
Or lie in that patch of weeds while listening to her laugh for all of eternity.
Like I said: lots of ups and downs.
I also got really serious with school, graduating from college in just two and a half years.
I added my diploma to the list of things I could throw in her face, proving how well I had done without her.
Or that I could use to provide for her forever.
One of the two.
Definitely one of the two.
But regardless of the reason, positive or negative, Ash was always my motivation.
Moving on was hard, but the world kept spinning and time never stopped.
I got older; I assumed she did too.
I got stronger; I prayed she didn’t need to.
I built a life; I hoped she did too.
I never stopped wishing she would come back; I didn’t even care if she wanted me to.
Then, on a cool Friday morning, the world stopped spinning.
And time came to a screeching halt—at least, for me.
Three years, four months, one week, and five days after Ash Mabie had taken off, I brought her home.
“Wake up, sunshine,” Till said, sauntering into my room, kicking the foot of my bed.
“Jesus Christ, I knew I shouldn’t have given you a key,” I grumbled, clearing the sleep from my eyes.
“Like you had a choice. I made the down payment on this baby.”
“It was a gift, and I said I was gonna pay you back, asshole.”
He lifted a silver boxing glove keychain in the air and jingled it at me. “Yeah, but until then . . . I get full access.”
<
br /> “Why are you here”—I rolled over to look at the clock—“at six A.M.?”
“Well, I would have been here at three, but Eliza made me wait. She also made me feed and change little Slate since I was already awake. That took forever. That boy has entirely too much of Quarry’s attitude in him.”
“Did he flip you off and tell you to fuck off like this?” I asked, giving him the finger as I sat up, only mildly amused by the conversation.
“He might as well have. The kid’s only four months old, but I swear to God he said ‘shit’ the other day.”
I let out a loud chuckle, shaking my head. “Seriously, why are you here?”
“Oh, right. You need to get dressed. We’re going on a road trip.”
“If this has anything to do with scouting another fighter, it can wait until I clock in at nine.” I rested my elbows on my knees, cradling my head and wishing I could go back to bed. I still had two hours before my alarm clock went off; I was in no mood to go on any impromptu road trips.
He didn’t say anything for several seconds until I glanced up to find him watching me warily.
“What?” I growled.
He took a giant step back, well out of my reach, before he said the words I’d both dreaded and dreamed about for over three years.
“We found her.”
My stomach dropped.
My heart stopped.
Flames shot through my veins only to be iced by the nerves that immediately collided against them.
“What?” I repeated on a whisper.
“She’s about ninety miles away. Someone at Willing Hearts homeless shelter started digging around on Victoria Mabie. It pinged on our end, and when the guys got there, they found out she’s been living there for over a year.”
Chills spread over my body as rage brewed in my soul. I blankly held Till’s eyes while anger, relief, and hope all warred inside me.
He pulled his phone from his back pocket and passed it to me. Sure enough, there was a picture of Ash smiling, huddled between two elderly women at what looked like some sort of office Christmas party.
Same hair.
Same eyes.
Same face.
Completely wrong smile.
Before Till could even object, I hurled his phone as hard as I could, shattering it and denting the wall.