I didn’t notice it until now, but Silas’ lip is bleeding, and a reddened bruise is forming above his temple. For a moment the source of my concern shifts from Jake to Silas and I ask, “Are you okay?”
When he gives me a brief nod as confirmation, I focus back on Jake. “What do you need me to do?”
“Exactly what you’re doing right now,” he replies before his lips turn up in a small grin.
I place the water bottle between us. “What about this?”
“Hold on to it. It’s already served its purpose.”
It takes me a moment, but when I see the open saline bottle standing up in the first-aid kit and the leftover packaging from the gauze, it becomes clear that Silas has already cleaned and irrigated the wounds.
I give him a knowing glance and mouth the words, “Thank you,” appreciative of the moment of respite he forced upon me by getting me to run inside.
“I’m just waiting for the bleeding to stop,” Silas explains as he lifts the gauze just enough to peek underneath then presses it down again. “When Joseph gets here, we’ll go inside and see if we can get the bullets out.”
I flinch as Jake’s body jerks to the side underneath my touch. At first I think something’s wrong, that he might be convulsing or in extreme pain, but he’s really just resisting Silas’ hold.
He groans in frustration as Silas readjusts his position more firmly over him and then he yells out, “Fuck you, and fuck Joseph. I’d rather keep the fucking bullets in my back than let you two poke around inside my skin.”
“You have to stop moving,” Silas warns. “You’re only making this worse.”
I’m shocked by Jake’s reaction and the struggle he’s putting up against Silas. The situation between them has escalated within seconds, and I know I have to step in.
“Jake,” I call out to him, keeping a hand on the back of his shoulder and leaning down close to his ear. “He’s only trying to help you.”
He huffs a bitter and sarcastic laugh. “Just like he’s been helping us this whole time? He separated us. He fucking sent me away so he could be alone with you.” He swallows hard as his face takes on a tortured expression. “He just killed three people in cold blood.”
“He was defending this place,” I argue. “He was protecting me.”
Jake turns his head just enough to fully meet my gaze in his strained position lying on his stomach, but he’s looking straight through me as if he doesn’t even recognize me anymore. His eyelids suddenly become sluggish, and within seconds they close completely as he drifts into an unconscious state.
“Jake?” I shake his shoulder slightly, and when he doesn’t respond, I sit up and look to Silas with desperation. I’m about to ask what’s wrong with my brother when I see Silas discarding the syringe he just used in the first-aid kit.
Guilt laces his expression as he briefly looks me in the eye. “I had no choice.”
I can’t help the worried sigh that escapes me. “This is only going to make him hate you more.”
“He can hate me all he fucking wants,” Silas retorts angrily. “I’m still going to do whatever’s necessary to keep him alive.”
A shiver runs through me when Silas says this, my mind flashing back to the day he held me down and forced a bucket of water over my open mouth in the dark room, vowing to do whatever it took to keep me alive if I continued my hunger- and thirst-strike.
Looking down at my brother now is almost like looking at me back in my first days with Silas, fighting against him and hating him and trying and failing to get the upper hand on him, except Jake might never stop. He might not forgive Silas like I did. I fear he’ll never understand or approve of my feelings for the man who changed our lives so drastically.
If this is the starting point of the interaction between the man I love and the only family I have left, where will this end? This isn’t the life I envisioned for Jake here. That life was ultimately probably nothing more than a dream, one that can’t come true. Certainly, ever since I was attacked last year, I haven’t lived a life of dreams. All I get is nightmares.
31
It’s strange being on the other side, the one in the chair next to the bed acting as the pillar of support for the unconscious loved one recovering from trauma. Jake was right by my side every day I was in the hospital after my attack last year. He sat with me in the recovery room after each of the surgeries on my hand. He answered every one of my phone calls when I needed a few words of support to get through the day or help me get to sleep at night. He was there for me every time.
Now it’s my turn.
It’s been a few hours since Silas and Joseph finished removing the bullets from the back of Jake’s shoulder. He’s all stitched up, his shoulder bandaged and his arm in a sling to keep him from moving it too much. He’s resting peacefully propped up against pillows on the bed in the guest room.
I keep Jake’s hand firmly in mine, eager for him to wake up. As much as I didn’t appreciate Silas’ unilateral decision to knock Jake out when he started to fight back, I realize now that it was the right choice. Jake could have aggravated his injuries and lost even more blood. He could have incited Silas’ rage further, and there’s no telling how that might have ended.
I’m glad Silas did what he did, but I’m ready for my brother to wake up now.
The minutes continue to pass until they turn into even more hours, and soon the sun begins its descent from the sky and the glow of natural light in the room starts to fade. Silas stops in occasionally, bringing me water and offering me food to eat. I have no appetite for anything solid, so I stick with the water. He tries to offer me alcohol once—bourbon, I think—but I immediately decline.
It’s not until the room is almost completely encased in darkness that Jake draws in a deep gasp, his upper body shooting forward from the pillows he’s propped against. I’m both relieved and panicked as I scramble to ease him back against the pillows to keep him from tearing his stitches.
“You’re okay,” I insist as I try to hold him in place. “Everything’s okay.”
Even in the dim lighting of the room, I can still see the painful grimace on his face as he stops resisting and finally settles back onto the pillows.
I turn on the lamp on the nightstand, then grasp Jake’s hand with both of mine, trying desperately to suppress my emotions as I work up the courage to meet his gaze.
When our eyes finally connect in the light from the nightstand, I look for the goofy brother who always bothered me when were younger, or the more reserved brother who did his own thing in high school, or the sociable brother who thrived in his first year at college, or the hopeful and determined brother I relied on when the world went to shit and we were on our own and on the run, but I don’t see him anywhere in those empty, weary eyes. All I see is hopelessness to the point of despair. I see the broken shell of my brother staring back at me, and it takes every bit of strength I have not to shatter into a million pieces right here in front of him because now my family is truly gone. There are no Nolans left. We’re different now, transformed by the people and events and chaos that have redirected the course of our lives and changed who we are.
“He called you Ash,” Jake says quietly, almost reluctantly. “Why would he call you that? You hate that nickname.”
I swallow hard and take the briefest moment to strengthen my resolve. I’ve had hours to sit here and think about this exchange, but it suddenly feels like I’ve had no time to prepare when he’s forcing me to jump right into this difficult conversation.
“That’s my name here,” I explain with an even voice. “That’s what he calls me.”
Jake shakes his head and looks away for a moment before focusing back on me, observing me carefully. “Your hair is shorter than before. Did he dictate your hairstyle, too?”
I shift uneasily in the chair, not sure how wise it would be to answer that question honestly, but my lack of answer is all the response he needs. Anger seeps into his expression as he asks in disbe
lief, “He cut your hair off?”
I nod this time, just barely.
“Ashleigh.” My name sounds like a plea coming from his lips, desperate for me to do something, begging for me to fix this.
The transfer of support between our connected hands now fully comes from Jake as he squeezes my palm, but when he looks down at our hands and up my arms, he suddenly lets go.
“Your wrists are red,” he notes with concern. “What are all these bruises on your arms?”
I withdraw my hands and inspect them all the way up my arms, turning them over to see each side. “It’s not what you think. The bruises are from my training. I was getting ready to come find you, or at least that’s what I thought.”
He looks at me skeptically. “What about your wrists?”
I hate that Jake’s pressing this issue, because I don’t want to lie to him, but he’ll never understand the truth. “My wrists are still healing from injuries I brought upon myself recently.”
“Rope or cuffs?” he asks quietly.
“What?”
“Was it rope or handcuffs that he bound your wrists with?” he says louder and with more bite this time. “I know those markings. I had the same ones after he knocked me unconscious in the woods and kept me locked in a trunk for hours before he sent me away with Joseph.” He pauses, practically shaking with anger as his voice escalates. “Don’t you think for even a moment that you did that to yourself. He did this to you. Every single bit of it is because of him.”
I’m left in shock by my brother’s words as he closes his eyes for a long moment, fury radiating from him as he takes repeated deep breaths to calm down. By the time he opens his eyes again, his entire expression is sad as he looks at me and begins to ask, “Has he…”
I look away briefly as Jake trails off and clears his throat, unable to continue his question, but I know exactly what he’s trying to say.
“You have to understand something,” I plead with him. “Silas and I are together now. He never really forced himself on me. I’m with him by choice.”
Jake stares at me blankly, then says in a pained voice, “I came here to save you from that monster, and you’ve just been fucking him this whole time.”
I flinch at Jake’s accusation, my chest immediately tightening with the emotions I can no longer control. Tears race down my cheeks as I bow my head to avoid Jake’s gaze.
“I can’t explain it,” I whisper. “I hated him for what he did, but felt something for him at the same time. He protected me and supported me and comforted me when I had no one, when I thought I’d lost you from this world.” I finally work up the courage and look my brother in the eye. “He told me you were dead. He showed me the fresh mound of dirt in the front yard, and it broke me. I was so far gone that I tried to end it. I starved myself to join you and Mom and Dad in peaceful death, but he stopped me and forced me to live.”
Tears fall silently from Jake’s eyes now, his expression sorrowful as he extends his hand to grasp mine again, causing me to breathe out a relieved sigh. This is the brother I knew before. It’s comforting to see him come back to me.
And it’s time I told him everything.
“All I wanted was revenge for you,” I continue, “and all Silas wanted was for me to be his partner here, so I let him lead me down that path, thinking I could use the skills he taught me against him someday. We spent every waking moment of the day together. We slept in the same bed. He saved my life from two men who attacked me, and he helped me cope with losing you. He even dedicated himself to rehabbing my hand.”
I hold up my left hand between us and show him just how much progress I’ve made, opening my palm completely then curling my fingers down close to making a fist.
“Despite all the mind games he played with me, the more time I spent with him, the more I realized there was something going on between us. I resisted those feelings because I couldn’t act on them with the man who killed my brother, until the night I did act on them, and after that I couldn’t live with myself and what I’d done. That was the second time I tried to end my life, and after that, Silas told me the truth that you were alive.”
Jake reaffirms his grip on my hand, moving his thumb over to the edge of my wrist to rub the healing skin there slightly. “You’re leaving out a lot of the details, aren’t you?”
I’m trying to get my brother to accept Silas and maybe even forgive him. There’s no way in hell I’m telling him about Silas locking me away in the dark room or making me think I was going to be raped by a stranger or forcing me to dig up my brother’s supposed grave.
“I can’t talk about what he’s put me through. Not with you, at least not right now.” I struggle to find the right words to bring him comfort. “I’ve accepted that Silas has a twisted and unpredictable side. I’ve hardly seen it since he told me the truth about you. It makes me think he can change.”
“He killed the three guys who volunteered to come here with me,” Jake argues. “You really think someone who takes lives so easily can change?”
I press my lips together, trying not to let my doubt show through too much. “We need to give him every opportunity to embrace the bits of light I’ve seen inside him.”
Jake’s expression hardens with disgust. “You’re asking me to be civil with him.”
“I’m asking for your understanding. I’m asking you to trust me.”
“I trust you,” he immediately replies, “but I don’t trust him. I hate the thought of you being alone with him.”
My lips turn up with the hint of a smile at the reemergence of my protective little brother. “It’s fine. I told you, everything’s better now than it was.”
Jake’s expression remains serious. “I’ll kill him. I swear to God, if he hurts you, I’ll find a way to end his life.”
I turn my head at the sound of two sets of footsteps approaching from down the hall, and my heart suddenly starts to race because I know the next few minutes will help determine the entire path forward for my brother.
There’s an unavoidable look of anxiety on my face when I turn back to Jake. I can see it puts him on edge as he lets go of my hand and tries to prop himself up on the pillows some more.
“Just relax,” I whisper to him. “Everything’s fine.”
I catch only a glimpse of the tension releasing from his upper body before I turn around in my chair at the appearance of Silas and Joseph in the room. Silas has a serious look on his face in the light from the nightstand. Joseph’s expression remains indifferent, a clear sign that he’s just following Silas’ orders right now as he walks in and sets the first-aid kit on top of the dresser.
“How are you feeling?” Silas asks Jake before stepping up behind my chair. He places his hands firmly on my shoulders, a deliberate and definitive show of where our relationship stands.
All the tension Jake had released moments before is back again tenfold as he stares at Silas’ hands on me. “I’m fine,” he responds through gritted teeth.
I can’t see Silas’ face from my position, but I imagine he’s trading dirty looks with my brother. The room is thick with tension. It feels like at any moment it might snap, and the fragile peace in here will shatter.
“How did you find this place?” Silas probes as he starts massaging my shoulders.
His intentions become clearer by the second. He’s testing Jake. He’s pushing him to the edge to see how he reacts just like he’s done with me countless times before. I know I should turn around and insist that he stop trying to provoke Jake, but I’m too afraid I’ll set him off. If he flips his switch and does something to hurt me in any way, any possibility of Jake’s acceptance of Silas will be gone.
Jake draws in a deep breath and exhales loudly. I can see every bit of his struggle not to lose it right now. “I found this place because of him.” He nods over at Joseph who’s leaning against the wall on the other side of the dresser. “He came back to the farm from a different direction yesterday, and there are only so many dirt roads
up into the mountains from that way.”
Silas releases a frustrated sigh. “And how did you find the farm?”
“I knew almost exactly where to find it. I overheard Xavier talking to his guys about it after Joseph left me with them. They thought they’d knocked me unconscious after I put up an initial fight, but I was only pretending to be and listening.” Jake focuses his full attention on Silas. “For someone who is supposed to be a friend of yours, Xavier sure talks a lot of shit about you.”
“Fucking Xavier,” Silas says under his breath at the same time his grip on my shoulders tightens painfully.
Now I know I need to calm him down, so I slide my hand over his on my left shoulder and turn my upper body around in the chair, silently pleading with him not to get upset over this.
His eyes meet my gaze just long enough that his grip on my shoulders loosens, and the raging fury that was rising within him appears to mostly subside. I look back at Jake who’s watching me closely, looking for my reaction. I give him the slightest reassuring nod as Silas begins his questioning again.
“Who were the people you were with?”
“You mean the innocent men you killed?” Jake fires back.
Silas remains unfazed. “You and those men attacked my home.”
“We were trying to save her,” he defends emphatically as he looks directly at me, “but apparently she didn’t need to be saved.” He closes his eyes, and when he reopens them, he’s focused completely on Silas again. “They were volunteers I hooked up with in Rochester. I went back there after I escaped Xavier’s community, but before I could find anyone I knew who could help, the city was on fire. We were just four random people fleeing the city, and they had nothing left and nowhere else to go, so they agreed to help me find my sister.”
His voice is thick with emotion by the time he’s done with his explanation; however, his expression remains firm, and no tears fall from his eyes. I can’t say the same for me as tears of guilt fall down my cheeks at hearing the sacrifice these men made for me without even knowing me or my brother. Silas had to do what he did given the circumstances, but those men didn’t have to die.
Falling Ash Page 27
