Igniting Ash (16 page)

“No,” he repeated. “I don’t want him to know.”

Feeling as though she had no choice, Emma agreed. “I’m seeing him tonight. I’ll speak to him about the job and hopefully we can arrange something.”

“How long would it be before I could get my own place?”

She could feel his impatience, wished she could resolve it all for him now. “I’m not sure. If Asher agrees the programme will have to check him out. Then they’ll need to make sure that you’re committed to working for him. It’s the first step, Gabe. Give it time.”

He huffed, his lips pouted. “So it’s going to take ages. That’s what you’re saying.”

“I don’t know exactly how long. This is something new that I’ve looked into for you. I think it could be good for a couple of others too. This is a great opportunity for you. I understand it’s frustrating that it will take time, but getting them to help pay for a bedsit or a room in a house is worth the wait. Isn’t it?”

“Suppose so.” His shoulders slumped and he dropped his gaze. Emma understood his need to start afresh; to him, the process wasn’t on his side.

“Maybe we could find another kid who’s in the programme? Maybe chatting to them would help you?”

“I guess. I’d be able to see where they live?”

Emma chuckled. “I have no clue until I put the feelers out. Some of them might not want to talk about it. To some, it will be a part of their lives that they don’t talk about to their new friends.”

“You make me talk about it,” he shot back, his brows raised in confrontation.

“Too true, but there’s a flaw in your argument, Gabe. They disclosed their information when they were at this stage in the process. It helped their social workers and caregivers to point them in the right direction. Their lives are different now; they have distanced themselves from their past and created new lives. That’s why they may not like to discuss things now.”

All she could think about was Asher. His past, his life now and his reluctance to talk about it all.

“Yeah, I want to talk to one of them and see where they live. If you can sort it.” He stood up, scraping his chair across the floor as he shoved it back. “You’re all right, you know.”

Emma gawked at him.

He blushed. “I mean, you’re not like the others or my social worker. You try. She never said anything about the programme. She told me my options were here or…there.”

Swallowing past the lump that had formed in her throat, Emma placed her arm over Gabe’s shoulders. “You’ll never have to go back there. I’ll do whatever I need to. I’ll keep you safe.” He nodded. “You have to trust me though. I can only help as much as you’ll allow me to. Maybe you don’t want to give me a name of the person who hurt you, but will you think about possibly talking to me about what happened that night. Or others. Sharing your experience with me will help you process what happened. It can’t be good if it sits inside you and rots.”

Gabe twisted out of her arms, his head still hung as he shuffled toward the door. “You’re good, Miss Priss.”

“I’ve only ever wanted to help you.”

He froze in the doorway, his hand on the wood frame. His words were whispered, and he didn’t turn around when he spoke. “I’m going to try and let you.”

Chapter 16

Asher

Asher flipped the closed sign on the shop door, sighing as he engaged the lock. His days were growing busier and he didn’t know how much longer he could go without employing help. Today had been hectic. He hadn’t even had time to check today’s delivery, let alone add the books to the shop shelves. That meant he either had to get to work tonight, start very early in the morning, or hope the shop was quieter tomorrow.

The first option was out. Tonight he was spending all of his time with Emma. She deserved his full attention, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask her to help him. He also hoped that if their date went well, then the early morning start would be ruled out too.

He wanted her to spend the night with him again.

Remembering their time together, the way she’d felt pressed against his hot, needy skin had his dick hardening. He lusted after her in a way he’d never wanted anyone before. His desire throbbed within him, pulsing to the heavy beat of his heart, and as the day wore on it intensified. Less than twenty-four hours after seeing her—touching her, his desperation clawed inside of him.

It was fucking embarrassing.

For years he’d managed to function without the kind of connection he had with her. Yet now he’d experienced it, he found himself driven by it. Each hour that passed brought him closer to seeing her and holding her close.

The ringing of his mobile phone had him startling and hoping Emma wasn’t about to cancel on him. Lifting the phone to his ear, he walked back toward the stairs that led to his flat. However, his body, that was only seconds ago lust-filled and anxious to see the object of his affection, was dowsed in a cold flood of dread when he heard a familiar monosyllabic voice.

He inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring as he pressed number one to accept the call. He never wanted to accept them, but what choice did he have?

“Asher, honey?”

Jesus, it didn’t get any easier talking to her. His blood still ran cold and his gut started to fill with lead. “Hey,” he croaked out.

“I’m sorry I’m late. The line for the phone was longer today. We’ve had some newbies arrive.”

Humming, Asher slumped down onto the bottom stair. He rested his elbows on his knees, running his fingers through his hair as he clutched the phone to his ear with his other hand. As always, he searched for something to say to her. “How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know. Nothing much changes in here. I look forward to hearing your voice though. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing really. Busy with the shop.”

“Asher it’s been two weeks since I spoke to you. Something new must have happened in that time. I always have to prise details out. Why don’t you talk to me?”

Asher blew out a breath. “We have this conversation every time. You waste time by going over it. You only have so much time when you call. Can we just move past it? Please?”

“We could.” She laughed. “If you’d share your life with me. Asher, I don’t see the world like you do anymore. I’m told what to do, when and for how long. Talking to you is a little bit of freedom.”

He ground his teeth. “Don’t put that blame on me. You made your choice. I had no part in that. I won’t let you make me feel guilty for it.”

“That isn’t what I was saying.” She lowered her tone. “Please, just talk to me and tell me how your week has been. Or even your day.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. The woman was already giving him a headache, and whether she was putting it on him or not, guilt had begun swirling low in his belly. Shit. “Shop’s busy. Looks like I’m going to have to take someone else on, but everyone I interview just isn’t right.”

“How so?”

“Too shy, too abrupt, doesn’t read books or they’d spend most of the time reading the books instead of selling them. None of them fit right. I keep trying but…”

She laughed again. “You’ll always be the same, son. Your search for perfection is never ending. Hasn’t there been just one that was close?”

Asher grunted. “Don’t. You don’t know me. We have a ten minute conversation every couple of weeks—have done since I was fourteen years old. Those ten minutes don’t mean a thing.”

“I’m not going to stop calling you. Every decision I made was for you. I’m here because—”

He shot up, his hand clenching as he growled, “Do not say that you’re in there because of me. We both know that’s a pile of bullshit! You’re in there because of your own selfish reasons. Tell your new friends, the guards, or your therapist what the hell you want, but don’t try and twist my memories. I know what happened before, during, and after. I know the real reasons.”

The line went quiet, the only sounds filtering through were background noise. Crying, shouting and the odd banging. When she finally spoke it was little more than a whisper. “Will you stop accepting my calls?”

He couldn’t. He was all she had. “No, though you have to stop twisting the truth. And making demands from me. I owe you nothing.”

She hummed. He could just picture the pout on her face. He’d seen it more than once during his childhood. “You don’t, but Asher? It doesn’t stop me from wanting to see you. I’ll keep sending those visitation orders. I’ll keep looking for you. Hoping.”

He couldn’t. “I have to go. I have…erm…a thing.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. Well, no matter what, it always makes me feel better when I talk to you. I miss you.” When he didn’t respond she continued. “I love you, Asher.”

He gulped, the guilt strangling him. “Yeah, Mum, I know.”

“Enjoy your night. I’ll call you soon, son.”

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see his response, and ended the call. Bile rose in his throat, his stomach churning with acid. Vomit rose as he heard a small rap on the shop door.

He needed air, the guilt squeezing his lungs so tight that he could barely breathe. Rushing to the door, he unlocked it and threw it open.

“Hey.”

Asher pushed past Emma, gasping for air while running onto the street. He retched. Twice more before what little he had in his stomach emptied out into the street.

“Asher? What’s wrong?” She placed her hand on his back, sliding it up and down his spine. Her touch calmed him; the clenching in his abdomen lessening. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his throat still burning, and when he straightened himself, Emma moved her hand to his chest. He couldn’t meet her gaze as shame flooded his chest. This was a side to his life he fought to keep from her, and yet now she was slap-bang in the middle of it.

“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.