Amber to Ashes

by Gail McHugh

  “Fuck you, bro,” Lee spits. “I didn’t call because I have no idea how hot shit is. No one tells me dick. All I was told was to wait downstairs with the girls. So let me repeat it for you in case you missed it the first time: fuck you, Ashcroft.” He straightens his collar, his expression no less heated as he pushes past Ryder, making himself comfortable on the bar stool next to me.

  Ryder grits his teeth, but I shake my head, warning him not to take it any further. “You left the girls alone downstairs?”

  “No, I told them to take your Hummer back to their dorm and stay put until one of us says otherwise.” A pause followed by an agitated sigh as his attention shifts between me and Ryder. “Now, would either of you douchebags like to let me know what the fuck’s going on?” He concentrates his attention on me, something akin to begging in his tone. “I’m being serious, man. You might think I’m some dumbass surfer from the West Coast, but I’m not. I’ve been in this game as long as you have, and I knew, just knew, something was up from the second you two got back from your last pickup. If I’m in this with you guys, really in it, then I need to be told everything. Not be the asshole you hide serious shit from. It’s not right.”

  I contemplate his words. Still, I can’t bring myself to tell him. If I do, I leave him wide open to fuck me down the road. I decide to tell him the bare minimum, enough to let him know to stay alert, enough to keep him and Madeline out of danger.

  “All I can say is some crazy shit went down,” I start, feeling somewhat bad for not telling him the whole truth, but not bad enough to let him in on everything. “And because of it, heat’s about to come our way. Bad heat, the worst kind. We need to keep our eyes open, watch our backs. More importantly, the girls’.” I take a breath, my demeanor collected though I’m anything but. I hate doing this, keeping him in the dark, but trust can only go so far under circumstances such as this. “Don’t ask me anything more about what happened, because I have no intention of telling you about it. You know all you need to know, bro. Ryder and I will take care of the rest. I need you to trust me on that. Cool?”

  Lee stares blankly at me, the fight in his eyes flickering out as he rises. Expression a bed of betrayal, he nods, his shoulders slumped as he nears my front door. He grabs the knob, the fire in his eyes making a resurgence as he casts me a glare from over his shoulder. “I’ll trust you for now, Cunningham. Even though you’ve always treated me second-best to Ryder, you’ve never failed at taking care of me when shit’s gotten crazy, always made sure I was okay. But I’m warning you, if anything happens to Madeline because of some stupid shit you fucked up playing this game, I swear to my fucking life, I’ll . . .” He trails off, his words dying on his tongue as he shakes his head in defeat and walks out of my condo.

  He doesn’t need to finish his sentence. I get him, hear him loud and clear. No matter how any of this ends, everyone’s blood is on my hands, my split-second decision to kill a man coming back to haunt me in more ways than I could’ve ever imagined. Feeling emotionally vacant, a sellout at his finest, I pull in a deep breath, my main concern transitioning to the most important person in my life.

  Amber.

  I lift my chin to Ryder, looking to get out of here and over to her dorm as soon as possible. “Can you give me a ride to the girls’ place?”

  • • •

  The lie I told the maintenance man about losing my keys and having to jimmy my door open was easy. However, the ride over to the girls’ dorm has been the exact opposite. Ryder and I have barely talked, the unrelenting awkwardness between us a jackhammer to my head. I take that back. We’ve talked, having gone over our plan of attack concerning Derick and what measures we’re going to take as far as making sure Amber’s out of harm’s way. We even agreed to keep what’s really going on from her in an effort to keep her from bugging the fuck out with worry.

  But we haven’t tackled what’s really hanging in the air above us—the elephant in the room, if you will.

  Last night. The way he stepped over invisible boundaries. Boundaries I should’ve set but didn’t. I shake my head, pissed off for letting it go as far as I did, for not stopping it the second it started. Not knowing who to blame, I turn to him, my eyes trained on his as he kills the engine in front of Hadley’s main building. He knows where I’m about to go, can see the anger on my face.

  “Just say it,” Ryder lets out through a heavy sigh. “There’s more bothering you than what went down today. Obviously it has to do with me and Amber, so just get it the fuck over with.”

  “You’re correct,” I answer, my tone matching his aggravation. “It is about you and Amber. It’s not happening again, bro. Ever. I should have never let it happen in the first place.”

  “But you did.” Ryder chuckles, though there’s not a shred of happiness behind it. Only sarcasm and, almost imperceptibly . . . jealousy? “We all did!” He looks out the driver’s-side window, his shoulders stiff as he shakes his head. “So now what? Is your plan to bury your head in the sand like a fucking ostrich and hide from it?” He whips his eyes to mine, fury igniting them. “Huh? Is that your fucking game plan, Cunningham? Got what ya wanted, didn’t like what you saw, and now you’re just gonna run from it?”

  I take a deep breath, slowly letting it out in an effort to contain the growing anger his accusation triggered. “What I’m saying is I love her. I loved her last night, the day before that, and the month before that. I just got . . . Fuck, bro, I got lost in the moment the same way you and Amber did. My vision’s clearer today and I know what needs to be done, and allowing you two to be together again isn’t it.”

  Another chuckle, this one as he sparks up a cigarette. “Ah, you see clearer today. Of course. Why the fuck didn’t I think about that?” He takes a long drag off his cancer stick, a grunt pushing from his mouth as the smoke skates through the car. “How does Amber feel about your epiphany? And do you even care what she thinks about it? ’Cause right about now, I’m thinking all you care about is that you couldn’t deal as you watched her and me—like you wanted to, mind ya—together. Couldn’t handle seeing her in my arms, wrapped around my dick. Couldn’t stand watching me bring her the same pleasure you do, if not more. In case you were curious, that’s what I’m thinking is the problem right now. You couldn’t give a fuck less how anyone else here feels because, let’s face it, you were the one calling the shots from the beginning. Kudos to you, man. You got your cake and ate the fuck out of it too.”

  I’m about to strangle the air from his lungs.

  Again, I suck in a deep breath, holding it in for a second as I try not to jump over the console to do just that. Sure, I might’ve been the one who initiated last night’s twisted events, but this asshole’s about to cross a fine line between being able to use his dick ever again or not. “First, I know how she feels about everything,” I answer through gritted teeth. “We talked about it on the way back from Atlantic City. Second, the hard truth is I mentally can’t do it again. Won’t do it again. I wasn’t strong enough last night to tell her no, that I wanted to stop everything in its tracks, nor was I this morning when she brought it up. And for that, I’m paying the goddamn price for it today! Probably will for the rest of my life!” Losing it, my fist connects with the dashboard, further damaging the same knuckles that left their stamp on my wall earlier. “Whatever the case, you’re not laying your fucking hands on her ever again! Do you understand me? Last night was the last time!”

  “I’m guessing Amber wants to do it again?” he asks after a few, tense minutes, his brow arched as if to accentuate the question as he flicks his cigarette out the window. “And don’t forget, I told you this would be different than it was with Hailey. But, hey. You didn’t want to listen.”

  “Yeah, she does wanna do it again,” I answer, my voice hoarse. “And yeah, I know what you said. But I don’t need you or anyone fucking reminding me of it either.”

  “So how do you propose we tell h
er it’s over? Do we call her a bad girl and hit her with a rolled-up newspaper? Put her in a corner?” He thrusts his hands through his hair, an air of mockery surrounding him. “Perhaps I’ll just bounce out of the picture, playing the classic Ryder Ashcroft womanizing dick as I haul my ass down to the sunny beaches of Florida?”

  I crack a smirk at his last proposition. No doubt it’d make things easier. Still, I wouldn’t know what to do without him. Having spent my entire childhood up until now with the asshole by my side, the man’s my only living brother. “I need you to tell her no if she asks about hanging out again. That you’re busy. Anything to deter the situation.”

  “You really just want me to walk away from her, don’t you? Want me to act like nothing happened?” He picks his head up, his narrowed gaze filled with a slew of emotions I don’t like. “You want me to . . . break her heart.”

  I clench my fists, the reality of his words causing my stomach to bottom out as I tear my glare away from his.

  “Say it, asshole!” he thunders, his fist taking a shot at the dashboard this time around. “Say it! That’s what you want me to do! Break the girl’s heart, make her feel like trash because you thought it’d be cool to share her with another guy!”

  Knowing he’s right, fully owning up to the fact that I’m the culprit of Amber’s mental destruction—hell, even his destruction—I break, desperation filling my voice as I bring my attention back to him. “Do you know what it’s like to care for someone, love them so much you’re willing to do anything for them, regardless of the outcome to yourself? Do you?”

  “Yeah,” he says, his voice weary as he steps out of the Mustang. He slams the door, pokes his head through the window, his body taut with anger. “Yeah, bro. Thanks to you, now I do. I appreciate the lesson.” He straightens, lights another cigarette, and heads toward the football field as he calls over his shoulder, “I’ll help ya with what needs to be done with Derick, that I give you my word on. But just know I’ll never forgive you for making me do this to her.”

  As dusk settles over the parking lot, I watch him disappear through the fog squatting heavy over the field. The field we celebrated so many wins in. The field where our unbreakable friendship was formed. I get out of the car and look up to the sky, knowing nothing will ever be the same between us.

  Again, the mind can change what the heart thought it wanted—both unrelenting in their battle of wills—and right now, it’s my heart that’s winning the war, even as visions of a broken friendship swallow my thoughts.

  As I head into Amber’s building I push through, knowing in the end she’s all that matters. All that’s ever mattered.

  Fuck the heart, mind, and friends . . .

  CHAPTER 21

  Amber

  IT’S BEEN TWO weeks, three days, and four hours since Ryder’s answered my calls, returned a single text. Two weeks, three days, and four hours since my heart started to beat with a sorrow I can’t begin to describe. I feel used, a piece of driftwood washed up on a beach. I trusted him, felt like we had a true connection. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I wound up being nothing but another Hailey on his list, the clichéd notch on his bedpost.

  I hate clichés, hate everything they stand for, and now I’m one of them.

  To make things worse, Brock’s become possessive to the point of near insanity, making sure either he, Lee, or one of his several counterparts—none of whom happen to be Ryder—escort me everywhere I go. Be it school, work, food shopping, or a visit to the local bookstore, someone’s attached to my side, their presence but a car’s length away from me as I try to live a seminormal life under my new routine. Caught in the undertow of something I know I’m being lied to about, the truth of what really happened that day at Brock’s condo hidden from me, I feel like I’m about to lose it, my sanity hanging by the thinnest of threads with every passing second.

  “You have to snap out of this,” Madeline insists, her eyes a deep brown ocean of concern as she flops onto my bed, tapping my nose with a pack of Twizzlers. “I’m a little tipsy, so not only are you a serious buzzkill right now, but you’re starting to worry me.” She tears into the pack of Twizzlers hungrily, nipping one out with her teeth as she shoves one into my mouth. “No joke, I’ve never seen you like this, Amber. You’re depressed. Not your usual depressed either. It must be said that if we’re going to continue our friendship, I have to know what happened. For reals, chick. I want the deets on everything that went on. The deets I’m pretty sure specifically happened the weekend we were in Atlantic City. Anything ringing a bell here?” A grin quirks her lips, her Captain Morgan–tainted breath inches from my face as she rolls onto her stomach. “I’m no fool, Moretti. I know Ryder, I know Brock, and I know you. The three of you walking sexpots woke up the next morning looking properly fucked. I also know Ashcroft didn’t take anyone up to his suite because he left the casino to go running after you and never returned. Add a thick layer of awkward glances, sweaty foreheads, and Ryder unable to keep his eyes off you the next morning at breakfast, and whamo! You’ve got yourself the perfect recipe for one hell of a ménage à trois. Again, the deets, now, biotch.”

  “You don’t think something’s up with the guys?” I ask, ignoring her inquisition. Taking a bite of the Twizzler, I stare at Jared Leto, who’s staring back at me from the ceiling. I bet he knows the answers to what the hell’s going on. “I mean, considering you and I have basically been put on house arrest the last few weeks, unofficial security guards glued to our hips everywhere we go, you’re not the slightest bit concerned that something’s going on? Something the boys are lying to us about?”

  Madeline shrugs, her toe tapping the bed to the beat of Nicki Minaj’s “Pills N Potions” as she steals another Twizzler from the pack. “I’m aware they’re lying to us about something, Amber. But you know the rules. No questions asked.” Another shrug as she gets to her knees. Ass swaying to the rhythm, she dips her head, plopping a drunk, wet kiss on my cheek. “Besides, whatever lie they’re keeping from us is probably beneficial to our well-being. Why else would they take such extreme measures to ensure we’re cool?”

  I dip my brows, shocked at her nonchalance. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No. Why would I kid about that?” She slides off the bed, stumbles to her feet, and tosses her crimson hair into a ponytail as she crosses our dorm room, rummaging through her drawers. “You and I started dating our boys knowing what was up the whole time. We knew what they did for a living, how they made their cash flow, and the risks they took to acquire their dough. Why all of a sudden now would we worry or question anything they’re doing? Makes no sense. They’ve got us. They’d never let anything bad happen to either of us, so why drive ourselves nuts over it?” She pulls on a Hadley sweatshirt and slams back her fifth shot of Captain Morgan, her nose scrunched in disgust as she sinks back onto my bed, handing me the half-empty bottle. “Am I making any sense right now?”

  “No, none,” I answer flatly.

  She sighs, annoyed. “It’s obvious something’s up based on our newly appointed bodyguards, but that just means the guys are playing whatever’s going on safe. You should be happy, not worried.”

  “You’re crazy. Absolutely bat-shit crazy.” I sit up and bring the bottle of Captain to my lips, the memory eraser sizzling my throat as I down at least three shots’ worth. “I’m not worried about us, Mad.” A fourth, then fifth shot as I shake my head, trying to catch up with her. “I’m worried about them. Whatever’s going on has to be bad enough that they have a bunch of idiots following us around. Don’t you see that? They’re in danger, not us.”

  “Fine. Wanna know what I really think’s up?”

  “Yes,” I answer, curious if she knows more than I do.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you.” She pinches my nose as she wets my cheek with yet another one of her Captain Morgan kisses. “But all great things come at an expense. In order to gain entry into my psyche, yo
u have to tell me what went down in Atlantic City. It’s that or nothing. Take it or leave it.”

  I roll my eyes, aggravated that the little blackmailer’s backed me into a corner. “You win. The three of us fucked like animals. End of story.”

  “OhmyGod!” Eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, she tackles me, shackling my hands behind my head as she straddles my waist. “I knew it! Kneeeew it!”

  “Mad, get off of—”

  “Wait!” she squeaks, pressing a silencing finger to my lips.

  I roll my eyes again, knowing the real questions are about to begin.

  “Everything makes sense now,” she says, tapping her chin as though she’s a detective working a case. “Your extreme bouts of depression. The way you’ve closed yourself off to everyone. You calling out of work or skipping class so you can crash in bed all day. The insane amount of crying you’ve been doing.” A frown shadows her face, all traces of excitement gone as she squishes her nose against mine. “Amber Moretti, I want the absolute truth from you right now. You need to answer me three questions before I can go on living. My life and sanity depend on it.” A pause, the shine of her teeth blinding me as a smirk encompasses her mouth. “How delicious was Ashcroft in bed? Was his cock as monstrous as rumors have it? And can the man eat a mean pussy like he’s about to fry in the electric chair?”

  “Get off of me, you psycho lush!” I half snap, half giggle as I summon the strength to throw her to my side. Sadly, she’s tipsy enough that she rolls off the bed, her tiny frame hitting the wood floor with a thump loud enough to cause our neighbor below to bang on the ceiling in response. Feeling bad, I peek over the edge of the bed. “I didn’t mean to do that! You okay?”

  I’m greeted with a wiseass, knowing smile. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you? Got it bad for Ashcroft.”