Asher (Ashes & Embers Book 6)

by Carian Cole

  Asher

  Ashes & Embers Book 6

  Carian Cole

  Contents

  Note from the Author

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Before You Go

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Carian Cole

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2020 by Carian Cole

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, and places are products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real except where noted and authorized. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events are entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover photography: Hellfox Photography

  Cover models: Kevin Creekman and Runa

  This book is intended for mature audiences.

  Blurb

  I should have died.

  I should have been forgotten.

  But I didn’t, and I wasn’t.

  Living the life most women only dream about, I was madly in love with my soulmate—Asher Valentine—amazing husband, loving father, and rock’s favorite kick-ass front man. A man who loved me every day, in every way, since we first met as teens. We were blessed with a beautiful daughter who was the light of our life. My all-female rock band was tearing up the charts.

  Then tragedy struck, and I lost it all.

  Now all I have is a stack of journals, an antique key, and a big black void where my memories should be.

  Used to be.

  And I have him—this man with wild hair, tattoos from head to toe, a soft voice, and an even softer touch that gives me butterflies. He’s clearly hopelessly in love with his wife.

  I’m told that’s me.

  But that wife is gone, and she took everything they once had, leaving me in her place.

  A broken replacement. A new version that doesn’t quite fit.

  I’m slowly falling in love with him, but will he ever truly love me? Or will he forever be in love with her, the phantom woman who haunts us both?

  Love music? Listen to the Asher playlist on Spotify by clicking here.

  Note from the Author

  Thank you for reading Asher and Ember’s story.

  Please keep in mind this story is fiction, and not based on 100% actual facts. In reality, Ember’s recovery would have been much more intense and taken a longer period of time. I sped it up for the sake of moving the story along.

  That being said, I conducted a lot of research during the writing of this book, and I also have personal experience with many of the scenarios detailed.

  Traumatic brain injuries are very tricky, and mostly unique to each patient. Please understand that if you, or someone you know, has had a different experience, or if you’ve seen it depicted differently, that doesn’t mean that any scenario is right or wrong. They are all unique.

  I hope you enjoy the story!

  Dedication

  For Pat…

  For your endless patience, guidance, care, advice, and friendship. I could not have written this book without you.

  Prologue

  “You brought me all the way up here to my favorite place to distract me, didn’t you?” Ember squints against the rays of sun slicing through the trees.

  I grab her hand and link our fingers as we walk along the steep, rocky path that runs the length of the waterfall. “Is it working?”

  She mimics my playful grin. “You know it is, Valentine, and it isn’t fair.”

  My wife only calls me by my last name when she’s teasing, flirting with me, or when we’re having a rift. Sometimes a mix of all.

  When we reach the small lookout at the top of the falls, I pull her close, squeezing her hand so she can’t walk away to stare at the water. Her cheeks are flushed pink and damp from the hike up the mountain, her lips slightly parted as she catches her breath.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” She smiles at me with that twinkle of playfulness in her green eyes I’ve been crazy about since I met her.

  “I just love you. That’s why.” I lean down and touch my lips to hers, lingering for a few seconds, sharing the same breath.

  “I love you too.”

  We sit on a boulder covered in soft moss near the ledge and admire the view of the falls and clear water in the river below. Autumn in New Hampshire is our favorite season, and this is our special place. It’s the spot where we said “I love you” for the first time. It’s where I asked her to marry me. It’s also where she told me she was pregnant with our daughter. We’ve written songs here. Made most of our life decisions here.

  A lone cloud drifts across the sky, dimming the brightness of the sun, leaving us in a moment of unexpected grayness. Much like this morning when over breakfast she blurted out words that nearly made me choke on my coffee. Unfamiliar words like unhappy.

  And lonely.

  I told her I didn’t understand. And I don’t. I still don’t.

  Her words seeped into my chest and settled there with a persistent burn. Now, hours later, that ache endures, plaguing me, and I want it gone. Stat. I know deep down that her words this morning weren’t me
rely words. They were stepping stones thrown down a path that would take us to a place we’d never been before.

  A crossroads.

  My hope was that she wouldn’t be able to think about being unhappy in a place that holds nothing but precious memories, which was why I suggested we get on my motorcycle and take a ride here.

  “Ash, I don’t think I want to live like this anymore.”

  The soft sincerity of her voice cuts through my thoughts like a dagger slicing a ribbon, leaving my hope frayed and tattered.

  The cloud moves, and the sun’s warmth and light return, but it doesn’t diminish the chill of foreboding still rooted in my gut.

  Is she thinking of leaving me?

  “Define this.” I nod at a hiker who smiles in our direction as he walks by on the path a few feet away. My fingers twitch, itching to hold a cigarette and bring it to my lips, even though I haven’t smoked in more than four years.

  “I don’t want this crazy rock star life anymore. I miss you. I’m lonely. I hate that we’re both constantly in a state of utter exhaustion. I’m worried about us. All I want is calm and quiet. Some normalcy. To be home more with Kenzi. It hurts me so much to say it, but I’m not happy with how things are. It’s too much nonstop stress. Too much time apart.” She stares at the water tumbling down the rocky mountainside. Her top teeth dig into her glossy lower lip, something she does when she’s worried or lost in thought.

  Every word feels like a brick, each one stacking up to create a wall I’m not sure I can climb. I rub my hand across the stubble on my chin, hoping the noise of the rushing waterfall has affected my hearing and my wife isn’t telling me she’s unhappy with our life.

  Our hearts and happiness have always been perfectly in sync. Our goals, our dreams, our desires have always been parallel. Solid and unwavering. We’ve been called a power couple in the music industry. The fans even gave us one of those smashed up stupid couple nicknames: Ashber.

  We’re happy. Aren’t we? We send each other sexy and mushy texts day and night. We still kiss like lovestruck teens. We talk on the phone for hours when we’re apart, chatting about life, music, Kenzi, and our future. We can’t keep our hands off each other when we’re together. We live in a never-ending honeymoon phase.

  “I thought you were happy with our life,” I say, terrified of where she’s going with this, and even more terrified to admit that I’ve been feeling the same way.

  Because despite the fact that I’m still desperately in love with my wife, I’ve felt it too. Everything she just said, simmering under the surface. The loneliness. The ache for her. The never-ending race. The stress of always having to be “on.”

  She tilts her head up to face me. “I thought I was. For a long time, I loved it, but lately I feel like what I want has changed. I want to have another baby—”

  My heart jumps with relief, and a big smile takes over my face. “A baby?” I repeat. A baby I can do.

  We haven’t talked about having another baby in years. Every time we have, it’s been in that “someday, it’d be nice to have another baby” way. If someday is now, I’m totally on board with that.

  “Yeah. A baby.” She smiles. “I also want more time with Kenzi. I want you, Valentine. All to myself for once. Not sharing you with the band and the fans.” She swallows hard and reaches out to stroke my cheek, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I don’t mean to sound selfish. But we’ve been together for fifteen years, and I feel like we’ve never had time alone together as a couple and a family. I don’t want to be the famous rock star duo anymore. Trying to coordinate two insane schedules, traveling all over. Living out of suitcases. Being pulled apart in so many directions. Always rushing our time together because we have to be someplace else.” She lets out a big sigh. “We rode an amazing wave, and I’m grateful for all of it. But now? I just want us to be us.”

  Truth is, all I know is the life she’s describing. I was conceived backstage at a concert by a musician and a groupie who turned a one-nighter into forever. I was born and raised on a tour bus. I’ve been singing and playing guitar since I was five years old. I didn’t just follow in my father’s footsteps, I completely surpassed them.

  But suddenly the option of being with the love of my life more, spending time with my daughter, and adding a baby to our family is wildly appealing to me.

  I’ve thought about it a lot, actually. When I’m sleeping alone on the tour bus, missing my wife something fierce. When I’m so exhausted I don’t know what day it is or what part of the country I’m in. More and more lately, I’ve wanted home and everything that’s there.

  I love creating music. I love the fans. I love the high of being on stage. But it’s nothing compared to how I feel when I wake up in my own bed with my wife all snuggled up in my arms, and I can hear my daughter in her room down the hall.

  Ember’s right. The demands of our careers have been taking over, slowly stealing our time together away from us. Eating away at our foundation like termites. For years, I’ve been telling myself nothing could ever come between us. As if our love is an unbreakable force. We never fight, we’re one-hundred-percent committed to each other. I thought that would keep us in a bubble of perfection forever.

  I thought the nights we spent apart missing each other like crazy couldn’t hurt us. That it was a normal part of the territory we had to deal with.

  I was wrong.

  Somewhere along the line, I got so caught up in the grind, I forgot I had a choice. That we had a choice.

  I didn’t know she was also lying awake at night wanting more of us and less of the rat race.

  “I had a nightmare a few weeks ago.” She lowers her voice like she’s telling me a secret. “I dreamt I lost you and Kenzi. I was all alone.” She licks her lips and looks up to meet my eyes. “It was weeks ago, but I haven’t been able to shake it. It felt so scary and real.”

  “You won’t ever lose us. That was just a bad dream.” I hug her even tighter against my chest.

  “I don’t even want to think about it. But it’s what really solidified everything in my mind. As crazy as that sounds.”

  “It’s not crazy, babe.”

  She lifts my hand to her lips and presses soft kisses on my knuckles. The sweet gesture melts me and makes me want to forget all this talking and just kiss her on this rock, surrounded by trees and memories.

  “Moments like this, where it’s just me and you, this is what makes me happy. I miss it,” she murmurs.

  I rub my thumb along her chin and watch her lips move across my hand. “I do too.”

  So much.

  Luckily, she knows me well enough to not be worried about my silence right now. She knows I’m a thinker.

  I pull her closer and lean my head against hers. The scent of her coconut shampoo fills my lungs. I breathe it in, getting lost in the memory of showering together last night, then tumbling into bed afterward, warm and damp and smiling between kisses.

  Before the word “unhappy” came to visit, bringing all its unexpected baggage with it.

  “Em, I had no idea you were feeling like this. I’m sorry. I was so caught up in everything, I didn’t see it.”

  “I was caught up too. But I don’t want to be. I want to feel you next to me instead of falling asleep with our phones. I want us to spend more time with our daughter. She’s a teen now. Soon she’ll be off on her own. And I really want a baby. We were so young when we had Kenzi. We were kids raising a kid and running around from one gig to another like headless chickens. I’m still amazed we didn’t lose her someplace.”

  I let out a laugh. “We did okay. We had fun, and we raised a great, loving kid. She’s smart and happy.”

  “You’re right. She’s perfect. But I never knew how to be a mother to her. I’m more like a cool older sister. I want to experience motherhood in a more normal way. As an adult with all the right choices. I want Kenzi to have a sister or a brother, or both. Look how close Katherine and I are, and you and your brothers and sister. I want
Kenzi to have that too. All she has is a pet bunny.”

  My thoughts are racing with excitement and anxiety. “I get it.” I tighten my arms around her. “I do, Em, I want all that too. More than anything in the world, that’s what I want. To be with you and Kenzi. I’ve been having the same exact thoughts lately.” I take a breath, because the but is coming like a freight train. “But we’re in two of the most popular rock bands in the country right now. I don’t know how we could walk away. We’ve got contracts, tour dates, and commitments.”

  “Those things can be undone and reworked, though.” A glimmer of hope flashes in her eyes. “It happens. There’s ways. You know that.”

  She’s right. There are ways. It would be messy, probably cost a lot of money, and aggravate a shit ton of people, but we could make it happen.

  “True,” I say. “It wouldn’t be easy, but it could be done. The next year will be tough, but after that, we can dial things back a lot. Maybe do one short tour a year. A new album every few years or so. Slowly fade back. I’d have to talk to the guys. Make sure they’re good with it.” Ashes & Embers isn’t just a band of friends or random talented musicians. It’s my family. “What about your band? Sugar Kiss is kicking major ass. Are you ready to give all that up after you and the girls worked so hard?”

 
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