Passionate Ashes
By D.A. Chambers
Published by D.A. Chambers at Smashwords
Copyright © 2014 D.A. Chambers
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Cover photo © CanStockPhoto
Designed and Edited by D.A. Chambers
Chapter One
The sea was perfect. A light chop with cloudless skies made for an opportune time to take the yacht out for a spin, and that’s exactly what happened. The ocean breeze whipped around Connor Gold, blowing his auburn brown hair back from his face as he leaned over the edge of his massive, five-foot yacht and admired the sapphire blue water underneath. He smiled as he noticed a pod of dolphins playfully jumping in the ship’s wake, chirping and chattering amongst themselves. They looked small, like tiny little ants accustomed to playing in huge waves caused by a multi-million dollar toy. Connor began to wonder dreamily about how it would feel like swimming alongside them, leaving behind all his stresses in the ocean. His thoughts drifted to a better place.
Connor needed these moments, now more than ever before. His life in the past few months had turned into a tumultuous battle for the top. His life was always pretty well planned out before recent events. He was born into a family of unlimited riches; his father owned an empire of five-star hotels all across the globe. His childhood was one that knew no limits; everything he ever wanted was always at his reach. This undoubtedly lead to some developmental problems as Connor grew older. The world just wasn’t the same limitless playground Connor imagined and consequences began to show their ugly head.
He was sixteen when his parents bought him his first Maserati, a speeding vessel of luxury. He was over the moon with happiness, unable to wait and show it off to everyone on the streets. Except, give a sixteen year old a car that can go from 0 to 60 in less than two seconds and you’re just asking for trouble. And that’s exactly what Connor got.
It was a rainy day in Miami, all too typical of the weather, but that didn’t stop Connor from wanting to take his new car out for a spin. He put the pedal to the metal and raced down the Miami highway, topping off at 160 miles per hour, his adrenaline spiking and his blood coursing with excitement. It was his biggest thrill, swerving through the slower cars and racing with the faster ones. Palm trees zipped by in a blur. He yelled out in excitement, screaming into the pounding wind that forced itself in through the lowered windows. He was winning on the particular day, in fact he had won so many races he decided to slow his speed down and ride home at a little calmer of a pace. He was still going ten miles over the speed limit when the accident happened.
He was swerving through the lanes when in one of those moments, a small Toyota was driving along in the same lane Connor blindly switched into. A small, maroon 2005 Toyota Corolla to be exact. The impact caused both of the cars to careen off each other, the roads being slick with rain offered no traction for either of them to recuperate. Connor’s car flipped at least three times in the air before it came crashing down on the other side of the median while the Toyota swerved helplessly into the barrier on the other side, crushing the car into a tin can.
Connor miraculously made it out of the wreckage alive, damaged but breathing. His ankle was shattered, his ribs were broken, his neck was dangerously close to being snapped, his shoulder was sliced open, and his front teeth had fallen out. But he was still alive. The other driver wasn’t as lucky, losing his life at the scene. The roof of the car crushing him down into the passenger seat. The incident scarred Connor deeper than anything else.
After that, he was never the same. For a couple of years after the accident, Connor became heavily addicted to vicodin, numbing not only the physical pain but the emotional pain left over from knowing he selfishly stole a life. The self-medication lasted much longer than it should have, no one wanting to confront the heir to a billionaire’s fortune. It was when his mother staged a surprise intervention that Connor decided to get clean and rebuild his life.
The intervention took him by surprise. Seeing his father and mother in the same room after their heart-wrenching divorce was what really set Connor straight. Growing up, he had immense respect for the love his parents seemingly shared. Needless to say, Connor was devastated to find out that his father did not have the same respect for love as he did, leading him to have three sugar-babies in two different states.
After the intervention, Connor went back to school and graduated with a degree in Film and Visual Studies from Harvard, of course. In film, he was able to find a new passion, something to bring back meaning to his life. He began to direct and produce small indie films at first, but it wasn’t long before his talent along with his name got him recognized and he began to produce much larger films. It was last year, when he won an Oscar for directing his blockbuster hit The Fallen, that his status in the film industry was cemented. He wasn’t the reckless trust-fund kid anymore. He had made his own identity and created his own wealth. It was an incredible feeling, a feeling that breathed new life into Connor.
In between filming and directing, Connor was able to find the love of his life as well. Or at least, he thought he had. Shannon Reed, the A-list actress who was discovered for acting in all of his beginning films, seemed like the perfect woman. She had movie-star good looks, an amazing and bubbly personality, and wasn’t as dumb as a bag of the usual LA bimbos. They immediately hit it off and made their marriage official last summer. Their relationship wasn’t the typical Hollywood tabloid love story. They got along extremely well and it felt as though it was everything Connor ever asked for.
Until Shannon took a line of coke at an after party.
After that initial hit, it was like a monster was unleashed and her downward spiral into infamy was initiated. Connor saw her do the line and tried his hardest to stop her. He knew how hard the grip of addiction was, but Shannon didn’t listen. She inhaled the line in one smooth movement. Over the course of the next few months, Connor could only stand by and watch as Shannon partied recklessly, the taste of fame becoming intoxicating. The drug cocktails she ingested every night would send her to cloud nine, leaving Connor behind to deal with the brutal reality of the situation.
He tried to talk to her, to threaten her with divorce, but she would never listen. She knew he was too invested with her. She knew Connor’s biggest fear was being alone, and as long as Shannon was there to comfort him when she wasn’t high out of her mind, then Connor wouldn’t go anywhere. And it was true. Even though Connor had a line of women wanting to get in bed with him, and why wouldn’t they? He was the perfect specimen of a man. His chiseled face looked like it was sculpted right out of a marble statue. His breath-taking green eyes were framed by medium locks of deep brown hair that somehow found that perfect balance between messy and kept. His body was also nothing to turn away from, his physique rivaling that of a Greek god’s, with strong shoulder and biceps and an eight pack that would make any woman weak in the knees. He was every woman’s dream. And that was the problem.
Growing up, Connor always had his fair share of vapid, gold-digging
LA women. He could never sift through enough dirt before he found a gold piece. So when Shannon came along, he felt blessed beyond relief. Shannon had so much more depth than any of the other women who vied for his attention, and so when they both fell for each other, Connor thought he would never have to look for anyone again. And he still held on to that hope, but it was getting worse and worse. Her addiction was taking over, and the more she spent in bathroom stalls shooting up, the more enticing the drugs seemed to Connor. He already won an old battle with addiction, he wasn’t sure if he had enough in him to win another one.
“You ok?” said a song-like voice from behind him, coming up and wrapping her soft arms around his strong chest. It was Shannon.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you done?” Connor asked, knowing that she was below deck with her friends cutting up another line. He smelled her soft perfume in the air, wisping around him with the ocean wind. It was an intoxicating smell. But it wasn’t strong enough to hide the reality of the situation. Neither was the lure of her touch, which was slowly making its way down to the front of his expertly tailored khaki shorts.
“Yeah, baby. I feel soo amazing. You need to join one of these times,” she said, whispering into his ear and nibbling on the lobe.
“I don’t think so,” Connor replied, except his strength was starting to waver. Shannon was becoming more of a temptress than a wife. His shorts were beginning to feel tighter, especially in the crotch area.
“Well, let’s go upstairs then, we can have some fun in the captain’s quarters.” She said, lowering her hand down to Connors thighs and rubbing them suggestively. Connor knew what came next, and it was taking everything inside of him to not throw her down on the deck and ravage her right there and then.
He turned to her, looking deep into her brown, captivating, blood-shot eyes.
Her hand reached around, squeezing his ass, pushing him into her. Her glare now turning hungry with passion. The bulge in the front of Connor’s shorts was growing, and Shannon could feel it.
“I don’t think I’m up for it,” Connor responded, to the shock of even himself. He guided her hand off his ass and let it hang by her side.
It took her a moment to process the rejection, something Shannon was never good at handling. “Fine,” she spat, clearly upset at the denial. Whenever she was high, her mood fluctuated intensely. One minute she was ecstatic and horny, the next she was a raging bitch. Connor wasn’t sure which mood he liked better these days.
“I’ll just go take care of things myself,” she called out behind her, thinking it would still entice Connor to chase after her. It didn’t though. He just stayed behind, hanging over the rails and watching the dolphins play their lives away. Oh how easy they must have had it.
****
“Ah shit,” Jada Roman exclaimed as she dropped the platter of food down to the ground, causing a resounding sound of shattering plates ring throughout the tiny Mexican restaurant. That was the third time this month, and she could already tell the manager was not happy. She quickly made her way back to the kitchen, issued a replacement order and returned with a ten year-old broom to pick up the mess. A few customers offered to help, but she insisted that they stay seated, smiling a thanks and returning to the shattered porcelain and random tortilla chips.
“Jada. I have to speak with you after your shift.” Her manager said, a greasy, balding man by the name of Jeff O’Dowd. He was a tyrant in the restaurant, wanting things his way at all times yet never making an effort to actually work.
He also had no idea what Mexican food really was. Penne pasta with chicken has never really been a hit when served with a burrito.
It was incredibly frustrating to watch but even more frustrating when Jada knew her head was on the chopping block. Jeff made no secret of the fact that he was on a firing frenzy, so Jada’s stomach dropped to the floor. She was expecting the worst.
Two hours later, she hesitantly knocked on Jeff’s office door. She heard a grunt come from the other side, his way of saying to come in. The door opened to an extremely cluttered room that rivaled the size of a large closet. There were potato chip bags strewn about and a few questionable looking magazines lying underneath a pile of untouched gym clothes. She wasn’t sure who Jeff was joking but everyone could tell he had never stepped foot in a gym.
Unless someone lead him in there with a trail of potato chips. Lays crinkly kind to be exact.
“You asked to see me, sir?” She said, trying to hide the clear disgust she had just by being in the room. She tiptoed around a chip that had a questionable green shade to it.
“Yes, please sit.” He said, gesturing towards a torn-up aquamarine lawn chair pressed up against the wall. It also had a questionable green shade to it.
Jada sat and almost fell through a hole on the bottom of the seat.
“Sorry, I should really fix that. Not much time between the gym and the restaurant,” Jeff said, laughing in a sort of weird pig squeal type of way. Jada could only find enough enthusiasm for a weak smile, still not sure what her fate would be.
“Anyways, Jada, my darling Jada. You know how much we value your work here, but lately you’ve been really dropping the ball, literally and figuratively. Here at Salty Dog’s Mexican Saloon, we pride ourselves in our customer service and you just haven’t been reaching that optimum level.” He was pouring it on thick, but Jada already knew what was around the corner. She felt her eyes growing wet at the thought of being fired. This was her only source of income and without it she faced the very real possibility of having to live on the streets.
“I’m sorry, sir. I truly am. Just give me another shot. I’ve been stressed at home and I really can’t afford to lose this job,” Jada pleaded, knowing it was her last chance. Jeff didn’t seem fazed. Instead he just grabbed a can of pringle chips and started munching down, throwing each chip into his slimy mouth with his thick, grub like fingers.
“Sorry, baby doll. You’ve got to understand. Today is your last day here. I truly wish you the best.” Jeff said in between pringle chips. Jada felt a mix between desperation and anger. She had to control herself, she knew she was inches away from slapping the can of pringles from his hand and storming out.
“Oh and take the chair to the garbage please. I need a new one,” he said, as Jada got up to leave. It was her final straw. She turned on her heels, snatched the pringles can from his hand and threw it down to the ground, spilling chips all over the already filthy floor.
“Last I checked, I don’t work for your grimy ass anymore. So you can get off your fat ass and carry your own chair. While you’re throwing it out why don’t you jump on in there yourself, because honestly I don’t know a better place suited for you,” Jada said with conviction, finding some relief in the stupefied look Jeff had across his face.
Her emotions were beginning to take hold. She could feel that familiar fire inside of her. The one that took years to put out. Why was it coming back now? She needed to leave.
“Well then, Ms. Roman. Good luck finding another job around here, what with your assault case pending. You know I took you on as a favor, and this is how you repay me?”
He knew exactly what buttons to press. Except he never pressed Jada’s buttons.
Her vision was beginning to blur, and not from tears but from the rage she was feeling.
It was overwhelming.
She shot up from her chair and ran out, slamming the door behind her. She knew that if she didn’t release her tension, the whole restaurant would go up in flames.
She ran though the maraca filled hallway and out through the Elvis Presley shaped back door, into the abandoned employee parking lot. She didn’t even have time to check if anyone was around. Her blood was already glowing a bright red underneath her regularly dark skin.
“Asha, release me,” she muttered into the air as her head shot back, her hands lurched upwards, and out from the palms came a stream of fire, shooting straight at a cement wall. It lasted only for a few seconds, but Jada immediat
ely felt the relief. She collapsed down into the ground and buried her head in her warm hands, crying for the first time in years.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she said to herself through the tears.
“Jada! Girl, are you ok? Holy shit, was there a fire out here?!” A familiar voice asked her, throwing an arm around her shoulder and looking around frantically, trying to trace down the smell of smoke. It was Claire, another waitress from the restaurant. If Jada had a sister in this world, it would have been Claire.
“He fired me. I don’t have work. Darrius broke up with me two weeks ago. Rent is due next week. I used up my savings on my accident last month. I don’t know what to do.” Jada replied between heaving cries. “And yeah, the homeless Chinese guy lit a can of black beans on fire.”
The full weight of the situation was crashing down on her in waves.
Only yesterday, her biggest stress was breaking up with her long-term boyfriend after he found another chick at some strip club. Now Jada was facing unemployment and an empty bed to go home to. It was all becoming too much to handle. And on top of that, her powers were starting to get more and more out of control.
“Oh, baby girl. It’ll be ok, you’ll see.” Claire’s embrace helped soothe Jada a bit, but it wasn’t enough to solve her problems. Nothing was enough at this point.
“You know what, girl?” Claire said, suddenly jumping up as she remembered something, “my sister is starting that maid company I told you about! She needs trustworthy girls to go clean the houses of the rich and famous. She was telling me she wanted them to start next week! That’s it, that’s what you’ll do.”
Jada looked up from her hands, seeing Claire smiling above her. A thin smile spread across Jada’s features as she felt some of the burden lift off of her. It looked like the clouds were making way for the sun after all.
It also looked like that scorch mark was taking the shape of Jesus.
It was time to go home.
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