Out of the Ashes

by Anne Malcom

  Lexie and I had done a pretty good job of converting our garage into a band rehearsal stage. The aesthetics part was done, which meant Lexie had to test the acoustics, whatever that meant.

  She was currently singing and strumming her guitar, playing Cat Power’s “The Greatest.” I had heard Lexie sing before. Multiple times. I knew she was good. Great, in fact. I had no idea where the songbird gene came from, considering I was tone deaf, but man, my girl had pipes.

  But this song, this moment, her singing choked me up. Maybe because I was filled to the brim with pride. Her beautiful, vulnerable voice singing a hauntingly beautiful song with such emotional power pierced me deep. It made me think of a time when my ambitions, my hopes for my future were high, when I believed in fairytales and happy ever after’s. When I naïvely believed I had found my own. And when that dream had been shattered, along with my jaw. That my life, our life, was a precarious house of cards that depended on my ability to disappear.

  Her voice trailed off and the soft strum of the guitar slowly faded out.

  Lexie stared at me as if she hadn’t just made my heart swell with pride and punctured my soul with those words. “Did it sound okay?”

  I struggled to find words. I feared I might burst into tears if I said anything just yet.

  “That was kick ass, Lexie! You got a great voice, girl,” a deep voice declared, sounding impressed.

  I jumped slightly. I had been so deep in my own mind I hadn’t heard anyone approach. On turning, I saw that I hadn’t heard two people approach.

  Lucky and Killian were standing in our driveway, leaning on the hood of my borrowed car. A quick glance to the curb showed me that they were delivering Betty.

  Lexie obviously hadn’t noticed them either, since her face was flaming red. She wasn’t shy about much, but I’m guessing it had a lot to do with a mini hot guy whose eyes were currently burning into her with an intensity that spelled danger.

  “Sorry we’re a bit late. We got held up,” Lucky continued, walking toward me. “I brought reinforcements for the heavy lifting.” He jerked his head back at Killian, who was still leaning against the car, eyes locked on Lexie. She was fiddling with her guitar, her head down.

  “Looks like you don’t need our help,” he said, his eyes moving around the garage.

  “Well no, it seems I’m stronger than I appear,” I gave him a grin. Lucky gave me a once over. “I don’t doubt it. Here’s the keys.” He handed me my keychain, which had colorful charms dangling from it.

  “Thanks a bunch for coming over and delivering it. I really appreciate it,” I told him sincerely. “I’ll just go and grab the keys for the other car,” I said, although I was reluctant to leave Lexie under the watchful gaze of the baby biker.

  I tried to break the land speed record to go into the house and retrieve the keys. Unfortunately, I never placed them in the same place twice, which resulted in me having to conduct a house wide search. There was more than one reason why Betty’s keys had an array of colorful chains.

  When I finally made it out of the house, both bikers were inside the garage chatting with Lexie. I wasn’t uneasy at leaving her alone with Lucky, despite his menacing appearance. It was the other guy I was worried about.

  “Sorry,” I puffed out as I reached them. “They were hiding from me.” I handed them to Lucky.

  “I told you we need a key rack.” Lexie looked over at me.

  I narrowed my eyes at how close Killian was standing to her. “We do not need a key rack.”

  “Where were said keys then?” she asked blandly.

  I glared at her. “They might have been in the freezer,” I murmured.

  Lucky chuckled at this announcement.

  Lexie raised her eyebrows.

  I turned to Lucky, who was still grinning. “Thanks for everything. I assume your company will send me an invoice?” I strove to sound grown up and professional, but I was afraid the whole keys in the freezer thing shot that to shit.

  He gave me a weird look. Not a weird look like he was trying to decipher what mental institution I belonged to, but more like he was itching to say something.

  The look passed and his eyes softened. “Yeah, babe, will do.” He jerked his head at Killian. “We’re off, Kill.”

  “See ya, thanks again.” I waved at them.

  Killian gave me a chin lift and Lexie a meaningful look before turning to the car.

  “See you Mia, Lexie. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you soon,” Lucky declared before folding himself into the car.

  Not likely. I intended to stay far, far away from anything or anyone that could put me close to Zane.

  “Thanks for the pizza, Mrs. Spencer,” Sam, Lexie’s bandmate said as he stood up to clear his plate.

  There was an echo of thank you’s from the remaining boys around the table. Yes, boys. Lexie’s bandmates were all boys.

  “I’ll be happy to provide you all with sustenance in the form of fried cheesy goodness on one condition,” I announced to the table at large. “That you don’t call me Mrs. Spencer. Mia is fine.”

  They all grinned at me. Lexie had seemed to fall into a good crowd, although they may have looked a bit rough around the edges. Sam was tall and skinny, dressed in all black, with chunky silver rings on his wrists and a black bandanna pushing back his shoulder length hair. Noah was wearing a faded Nirvana tee, ripped jeans and a beanie covering his head. He had seriously good bone structure and was also tall, but had some impressive teenage boy muscles coming out of his Nirvana tee shirt. Wyatt had spiky blond hair, was wearing a white shirt unbuttoned with a tee underneath and faded denim jeans. A couple of leather necklaces hung from his neck.

  I didn’t know what I had been expecting from Lexie’s band, but they were not it. They looked like delinquents, even though Noah definitely had a future in the male modeling industry. But I found they were polite and surprisingly articulate for teenage boys. I liked them.

  I snatched a plate from Sam as the others moved to help clean up. “I’ll do this—you guys go off and make sweet, sweet music.” I pointed a finger at them. “Though if you suck, I do reserve the right to revoke garage privileges.”

  “Mom,” Lexie warned.

  I glanced at her. “I’m sure you won’t suck, honey, but I just need to cover my bases,” I told her. “Now go.” I shooed them with my hands.

  The boys all grinned at me, and Wyatt met my eyes. “You’re seriously cool, Mia,” he stated.

  They disappeared out the door and out into the garage. I busied myself with cleaning up pizza dishes and the like. I heard once they started playing that they did not suck. Of course, I knew they wouldn’t. I was also glad that our closest neighbor was MIA and the sound was not likely to reach the ones on the other side of the house.

  I tossed and turned in bed, sleep eluding me. This was due to a number of reasons. Lexie’s soulful rendition of a beautiful song and the memories it dredged up, plus the slight concern I had for her being in a band full of hotties. Not that I didn’t trust her. I did. But I was a mom. I worried. It was a job requirement. Plus, I may trust her, but three teenage boys? Not a chance in Hell. I was glad I would be able to keep a watchful eye over them until they gained that trust. The biggest thing that had me yet to meet the sandman was the rumble of Harley pipes I kept hearing. Not outside, but in my head. They had sounded just as I was shutting down the house for the night, and I had peered out my window to see Zane pulling up his driveway. I had quickly darted my head back into the safety of the house so he wouldn’t catch me peeping. But I had gone to bed with a sick feeling in my stomach knowing he was across the road.

  It had only intensified when I lay down, all of the thoughts I had locked away thundering into my mind once I had turned off the light.

  The shame I had felt when he had cruelly kicked me out. The cold glint in his eyes. Then the hot flame I felt with his touch. The sex that was the best I had ever had. That look, right after, before his eyes had shuttered over. That look that could a
lmost be described as tender had it not been on such a hard face. It was something more than simple tenderness; it was tortured tenderness. Something had stirred in his eyes, something that had struck a chord within me because I had demons of my own, residing in the dark corners of my mind. That’s why that hurt all the more when he dismissed me, caused me to feel shame.

  That shame was quickly replaced by anger. No, by fury. How could he act like I was the reincarnation of Hitler’s wife for days, and then out of the blue, fuck me against the wall of his house? Fuck me with an urgent passion, which made me shiver just thinking about it. Then cast me aside like some...whore.

  On that thought I saw red. I threw back the blankets and shoved my arms into an old flannel shirt. I didn’t even think about footwear, anger transcending common sense.

  My rage did not dissipate as I unlocked the doors and stomped across the street. It did not dull even as my bare feet touched the cobbled stones of his walkway. It stayed with me as I pounded loudly on his front door. I kept pounding until a light was switched on.

  The door opened and Zane seemed to jerk in surprise to see me in it. Luckily, he was fully clothed this time. How it was he answered the door fully clothed in the middle of the night and half naked in broad daylight I had no idea. I barely registered that he was holding a gun at his side, which normally would have been a big fucking deal.

  “You are a dick,” I spat at him. Manners be gone. Obviously reason was long gone also, considering I was insulting an armed man. “You cannot treat me,” I paused, “no, strike that…you cannot treat any woman the way you treated me,” I hissed. “You don’t like me for some unknown reason. Fine. Your loss. But I’ll have you know most people like me. I’m likable. I’m nice. But you don’t think so? Whatever—that’s your prerogative.” I pointed at him again. “If you don’t like me, send all the death glares you like. I’ll learn to get used to them.” Total lie, but I was on a roll. “Speak to me in grunts…actually, don’t speak to me at all. I’m not bothered.” Another lie. “But, do not, after doing all of these things, drag me into your house, have sex with me,” I stopped, breathing heavily before continuing, “and treat me like a whore.” I hissed at him again. “Who do you think you are? Do you think some air of menace, the vest you wear and some good bone structure gives you the excuse to--”

  I didn’t get the chance to finish my rant because of the hand that fastened around my neck and yanked me against a hard body. Before I knew it Zane’s mouth was plastered to mine. And, because he had caught me mid-sentence, his tongue had prime access to mine. He managed to get me inside and slam the door behind me without his mouth leaving mine. With the slam of the door though, came the surging of coherent thought.

  I pushed back against him violently, and although I think my strength was nothing to match his, he let me go. I lifted my hand and slapped his cheek, my palm stinging at the impact.

  We stared at each other, breathing heavily.

  I glanced at my hand like it was some alien part of me. I had never slapped anyone in my life. Not even the person that had treated me to the same violence I had just unleashed. I glanced back up at Zane, whose eyes were locked on me. They seemed to be dancing with something; his entire frame was locked still.

  And then, for some insane reason, I pounced. I latched onto his mouth once more, like a junkie looking for a hit. My legs circled his hips and rough hands gripped my ass to lift me against him. I moaned as my nightie rode up, leaving my panties as the only barrier between me and his jean-clad cock.

  One hand went to my ass, the other delved into my hair, pressing me to his mouth. I struggled to shrug off the flannel I was wearing as he carried us through the house. I didn’t care where we were going as long as we would be horizontal.

  We suddenly stopped. Zane grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back. It was rough, but not painful.

  He searched my face, his eyes glittering. “You are not a whore. Do not ever refer to yourself as one again, or I’ll tan your ass,” he growled.

  I didn’t have time to respond because he threw me onto a bed. Yes, threw. Like bodily. It was a soft landing, obviously, and the view was fricking bomb. Zane had pulled his tee off and was unbuckling his jeans. Before I knew it he was standing before me, gloriously naked, the colors of his ink rippling over his muscled body. Unfortunately, I barely had time for a mental snapshot, let alone to commission an oil painting.

  His hands pushed my silk nightie up to my waist, his face burying itself between my legs. I felt him tenderly kiss me atop my panties, which was a stark contrast to the ferocious way he had kissed me earlier. His hands moved and yanked my panties down, and suddenly he was there. My whole body tightened at the shaft of pleasure that erupted with his mouth on me.

  “Even sweeter than I imagined,” he said roughly before his mouth covered me once more.

  My hands bunched into the sheets as he ate me like a starving man. It was relentless, brutal, and my climax overtook me with the same intensity. I screamed, and Zane’s mouth covered mine, the taste of me on his lips enough to prolong my ecstasy.

  I was barely containing the aftershocks when I felt him at my entrance. His hard body was pressed above mine, although I knew he wasn’t giving me his full weight. His eyes met mine. “You on something?” he asked tightly.

  “On?” I repeated dreamily.

  “Pill, babe. You on it?” He grunted, sounding like he was holding himself back.

  “Yes.”

  I barely had the word out of my mouth before he surged into me. I cried out once more as he pounded my sensitive flesh. I circled my legs around him, clenching him closer to me.

  “Harder,” I whispered hoarsely.

  He grunted and I was lifted as he went to his knees, my legs still circled around him. His hands bit into my ass, the pads of his fingers pressing so hard it bordered on pain. My nails raked his back in response.

  “My little wildcat,” he murmured, not stopping his thrusts.

  I moaned as I felt myself build again, this angle making him fill me to the brim.

  Zane clutched the back of my neck and pressed his forehead to mine. His eyes locked onto mine, his stare never wavering as he pounded into me. “Come again, Wildcat,” he commanded.

  As if his words had magical orgasm giving powers, my world shattered for a second time and I saw stars. I vaguely noted his body stiffen as he had his release.

  After a beat, he lowered us both down back onto the bed, his body covering mine. He didn’t give me his full weight; I could tell by the way he held himself. One of his hands moved to my face to tenderly brush a wayward strand of hair away. He frowned at the strand as if it had wronged him in some way.

  I waited. For the shutters on his eyes to close. For the confusing tenderness to disappear and be replaced by cold indifference, or even straight up hostility. It didn’t come; he merely framed my face, staring at me, not saying a word.

  “This is it,” he said finally.

  “What?” I asked quietly, still bracing for a verbal blow.

  His hand moved to span my hip. I marveled at how large it was compared to me. I wasn’t what you’d call petite in that area, thanks to the fact I had birthed a child. But those hands made me look positively tiny.

  “This.” His hand tightened on my hip once more and my eyes moved to meet his. “Is all I can give you, all I am capable of giving you,” he continued. “Nothing more.”

  Realization flooded through me at his grunted sentence. Sex. He was talking about sex. That was all this was. I inwardly flinched. I couldn’t say how I felt about the infuriating giant. He was complicated, maddening, and terrifying. I wasn’t even sure if I liked him. But any guy telling you he only wanted you for sex was bound to cause a sting.

  “You mean like, friends with benefits type of situation?” I asked slowly.

  He regarded me, his face blank. “We’re not friends,” he stated simply.

  Ouch. Another verbal blow.

  “There is no way I
could be your friend. No way I could spend an extended amount of time in your presence without ripping all your clothes off and burying myself in your sweet cunt. I couldn’t have you around me and not be able to touch you.” His hand snaked up to cup my breast. “Taste you,” he continued, his head moving to suck on my nipple.

  I shivered as he pulsed, still inside me.

  His head lifted. “So this is all I can do. When we’re together, we fuck. That’s it. All we can be. If you want it,” he added. The way he said it, the way he was looking at me, it made me think he wanted me to say no. Tell him to shove it. I wished I could. Not for me but for womankind everywhere. But I think womankind might forgive me once they got a look at his body. And his dick.

  “Okay,” I whispered back to him, meeting his eyes.

  If I was honest with myself, I didn’t know if I could handle anything more than this. If I could give anything more. I feared I was broken. Pieces of me smashed when I was young and hopeful, wide open to the prospect of love. And I thought those pieces may always lie broken within me, beneath sarcasm and inappropriate humor. I thought the only person I was truly capable of opening my heart to was my daughter. No man could ever get in there. Not again.

  So maybe I could get down with this arrangement.

  Zane had been watching me during this moment, his eyes glued to my face. His thumb, feather light, traced down from my temple to my jaw. It was as if in that moment he saw me, saw the broken pieces. And I think it was because he was broken too.

  Then his hand circled at my neck, his eyes darkening. “Gonna fuck you even harder this time, Wildcat,” he declared hoarsely, surging into me.

  The moment was gone, replaced with our mutual passion, desperation to cling to whatever our broken souls let us have.

  “Mom?” a sleepy voice asked in confusion.

  I glanced over to see Lexie emerging from the hallway, still half grasped by sleep. She always yanked herself out of bed before she was properly awake, and she would spend the first part of her morning as an adorable sleep-rumpled zombie. When she was younger, I would love it. She would come and cuddle close to me until the last of her dreams left her. She’d also say weird things like “There’s peanuts in the toaster,” which gave me endless hours of amusement. Then she started to grow up and I introduced her to the magical powers of caffeine. So I no longer got my Lexie cuddles. Right now she was looking at me like I was insane.