Liquid & Ash

by E. M. Abel

  I scoffed, “No shit.”

  He turned his head and looked at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and I quickly wiped the sarcastic grin from my face.

  He looked down at the ground, like he wished he were still there. We were both too vulnerable up here.

  “Do you know what I said to Destiny the night she OD’d?”

  He peered over at me, but I didn’t respond.

  “I’d found out that she was spreading rumors about me, and I got so angry. I told her she never meant shit to me, and a few hours later, she took a bunch of pills and died.”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If he was trying to scare me off, it wasn’t working.

  “I’ve cheated on women before. I’ve called them names, ignored their calls, cut them out of my life as soon as they gave me a reason.”

  “Did you love them?” I asked although I already knew the answer.

  He shook his head.

  “Do you love me?”

  He opened his eyes, but he didn’t look at me. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me. Do you love me, Brandon?”

  He finally looked at me, and I instantly knew the real answer before he opened his mouth and lied, “I don’t know.”

  Brandon

  That was a lie. I knew.

  I’d loved Penelope ever since that day in the woods when she apologized to me. I had been a complete asshole, insecure about her seeing me cry and whimper on the ground, like a scared little boy. She should have been pissed at me. I’d wanted her to be mad, so it would be easier for me to push her away, but instead, she’d looked at me and told me she was sorry. I couldn’t remember ever being told those words before. I was usually the one saying them.

  I watched as something like understanding passed through her green eyes. She’d always been able to see past my bullshit. I hated and loved it in equal measure. I’d never felt so exposed to anyone.

  “I want to.” That was a lie, too.

  I didn’t want to love her. Love always brought fear, and fear left me weak. Weakness was not an option for me even if it meant hurting the ones I cared for most.

  She nodded her head, and I glanced down at the FEAR on my fingers. I wanted to rub the ink out of my skin, but I knew it would always be there.

  “What happened to never pretending?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  I closed my eyes, willing myself not to succumb to my selfish need. I had to protect her, and although she might think I was trying to hurt her, the truth was, I was doing the exact opposite. I was stopping the hurt before it got to be too much, before it became something neither of us could recover from.

  I loved her too fucking much to expose her to my demons.

  “I’m not pretending. I can’t love you, Penelope. I don’t love you.”

  A few heavy seconds passed between us.

  “Well then, I guess there’s no reason for me to stay,” she murmured.

  Her words splintered my heart into a million pieces.

  I wanted to beg her not to go. There was nothing in my life I wanted more than Penelope’s love. But my fear was too great, my insecurities too ugly, so instead, I stood there, praying she’d forgive me one day, while I listened to her footsteps as she walked away.

  “Daddy, stop, please!” I shouted as he punched Mommy in the face one more time.

  I cried as blood dripped from her nose, and she gave me an apologetic look. She always felt so bad for me, and I never understood why. He was hurting her, and all I ever did was watch and cry.

  “She shouldn’t get away with this, son! Do you hear me? Don’t let her brainwash you with her bullshit! She’s a lying, ungrateful bitch!”

  My body was shaking, but I nodded my head and tried to wipe away my snot and tears with the back of my hand. He hated it when I cried. I didn’t want to make things worse for her.

  “You see this, bitch? You see what you’re doing to my son? You’re turning him into a goddamn pussy!”

  His arm came out, and he backhanded her across the cheek, her blood splattering onto the floor. I bit my lips, trying to hold back my sob, as her body went limp.

  Please don’t die, Mommy. Please. Wake up. Wake up.

  “Oh, we’re not done yet,” he said, squatting down beside her and lifting her head by her hair.

  I noticed her eyes moving behind their swollen lids, and I let out a breath of relief. She was still alive. But something was different. She wasn’t begging him to stop. She wasn’t trying to get away like she used to.

  Fight, Mommy! Don’t give up.

  Daddy pulled harder until she was sitting, and he propped her back up against the side of their bed before walking out of the room. I was so scared that I thought I might pee my pants. I clasped my shaky hands in front of me and tried as hard as I could to get Mommy’s attention. I didn’t want her to give up.

  Almost as if she’d heard my thoughts, she tilted her head back and peered at me through the small slits of her black eyes. Blood dripped out of her nose, covering her mouth.

  “I love you, baby,” she whispered.

  “I love you, to-too, Mo-Mo-Mommy,” I stuttered, my bottom lip quivering, as more tears fell from my eyes.

  She sucked in a breath when Daddy walked back in, and I quickly turned to face him. That was when I noticed the gun in his hand, the same gun he’d taught me to use. I saw him lift his arm and aim it at her head. In the next second, my ears were ringing, and my world was spinning.

  Daddy had killed Mommy right in front of me. With a simple pull of a trigger, he’d taken her life and my heart in a cold-blooded moment of rage.

  I curled my fingers tighter around the steel railing, trying to fight the tears streaming out of my eyes. It didn’t work.

  I lifted my head to the sky.

  “Fuck!” I shouted as loud as I could, my body straining, as I tried to release all the hate and anger I harbored deep in my soul.

  I wanted the entire world to hear me. I wanted my father to hear how furious I was, but he couldn’t. He had killed himself only seconds after he’d realized what he’d done. He’d left me alone to tell the police what I’d seen, alone to pick up the pieces.

  I’d spent years in therapy, and his actions still ruled my life. That moment still controlled me. I’d fooled myself into thinking that I’d moved past it. In some ways, I had, but I was still terrified of ending up like my father, and there was no way I’d risk finding out if I would.

  It had been ten days since I’d seen Brandon. He hadn’t been at work, and no one seemed to know where he was.

  I pretended not to care, of course, but the truth was, I was worried, and I missed him. I knew it was stupid since he didn’t want me. He was probably just waiting for me to leave before returning to work. It was better that way. I knew if I had to see him flirting with other women every night while pretending I didn’t exist, I’d lose whatever strength I had left. As it was, it was dwindling every day.

  But I was leaving tomorrow night, and the thought of never seeing him again was tearing me up inside. I had known he was lying when he’d said he didn’t love me. I could feel it radiating off of him, even as he’d said the words. He was scared to love me, and I couldn’t figure out why. He’d seemed so fearless when it came to everything else.

  I just wanted one more night with him, one more chance to feel his body against mine, to look into his eyes and tell him I loved him. It might be my last opportunity to say those words to a man and mean them.

  Reaching for my phone, I drew in a shaky breath, knowing I was risking another crack in my already fragmented heart, but I had to try.

  With unsure fingers, I sent Brandon a text.

  Can we pretend? Just for tonight.

  I sat on my air mattress, staring at my phone, willing him to respond. I could feel the time ticking in my veins.

  A few minutes later, he responded.

  Come over.

  God, what are you doing?

 
Just seeing those two words from him kick-started my heart. I knew there was no hope for us, but tonight, I would pretend there was.

  “Hey,” I said weakly as Brandon opened his door for me.

  I’d ridden my bike the three miles from my apartment, and it had rained. My clothes and hair were soaked.

  “What happened to you?” he asked, taking a step back, as he watched me walk inside.

  I stood in his front entrance as he went to his linen closet and grabbed a towel. “I sold my car.”

  He wrapped the warm cotton around my shoulders, and I pulled it closer, finding comfort in his smell.

  “Why didn’t you say something? I could have picked you up.”

  I noticed he had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was greasy. It looked like he’d been sick.

  “Is everything okay? You don’t look so good.”

  He chuckled, and the sound almost seemed foreign in the tension that had mounted between us.

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “No, I guess I don’t.”

  Our eyes met for a brief moment before I looked down at the floor. This was harder than I’d thought it’d be.

  “Here, let me run you a hot bath. I’ll give you some dry clothes to wear.”

  He walked back toward his bathroom, and I stood there with the towel around me as I studied his apartment. It looked like he’d been holed up in there for days. Empty food containers littered the coffee table, the ashtray was overflowing, and a stack of books sat on the floor by the couch. I listened to the water running and took a deep breath, determined to enjoy our last night together.

  When he came back into the living room with one of his clean T-shirts and a pair of shorts, I asked, “Will you take a bath with me? It looks like you could use one.”

  I glanced up at his hair and felt a smile crack my lips.

  He looked at me for a few seconds, either debating whether he should or trying to gauge my intentions, but he eventually agreed. “Yeah.”

  He followed me back into his bathroom and set the clothes down on the sink. I was nervous, and I wanted so badly for him to touch me like he used to. I wanted him to look at me like he had before reality had ripped into the seams between us.

  Turning to face him, I held his gaze as I peeled my wet shirt up and over my head. He did the same, and I tore my eyes from his to look down at his beautifully tattooed skin. I might never see it again. Reaching down, I unbuttoned my jean shorts and pushed them along with my panties down my legs. I unclasped my bra and dropped it at my feet, standing exposed in front of him.

  I stood there as Brandon’s eyes perused my body, just as mine had his. He pushed down his sweatpants, and my eyes landed on his erection. I couldn’t help the satisfaction that sight gave me.

  He still wants me.

  Brandon and I stood naked in front of each other, both of us soaking in the moment between us.

  Finally, he moved and walked over to the tub where he slowly stepped in and sat down with his legs open and his arms reaching for me. I followed him in, sinking down into the warm heat and relaxing back into his embrace. We were silent as he cupped water with his hands and poured it onto my cold skin. I traced the tips of my fingers along his legs, trying to memorize the feel of him.

  It was perfect and peaceful, a love with no expectation, an instant without regret.

  “My mother was murdered,” he said, dripping his heart all over me.

  My hands stopped moving, and my breath faltered.

  “I watched…” He paused, and he took a deep breath. “I watched my dad shoot my mom.”

  I gasped and covered my mouth, trying to hide my shock but only emphasizing it. Without thinking, I turned to face him. The look of sadness in his eyes instantly brought water to mine. I sat there with tears streaming down my face.

  Brandon had finally revealed his demons, and they were more horrific than I ever could’ve imagined.

  I couldn’t get my voice to work, so instead, I straddled his lap and wrapped my arms around him. I held him there with his head on my chest, so he could hear the pounding of my heart and all the things I wished I could say.

  After a few seconds, his arms came around my back, and he held me, as if his life depended on it.

  “I love you, too,” his lips said against my wet skin.

  I shut my eyes and felt him pulling away. I didn’t want to open them. I didn’t want to see if he was pretending or not. I wanted to believe this was real. I wanted it more than anything.

  “Look at me,” he whispered, his thumb brushing my bottom lip.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I opened my eyes and exhaled.

  Seas of endless blue stared back at me.

  “I love you,” he repeated.

  And I believed him.

  Leaning down, I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my mouth to his, trying to taste his words. I wanted to take them inside me and hold on to them forever. The taste of salty tears mixed with love as Brandon groaned into my mouth. Our tongues tangled, and his dick twitched beneath me. I rotated my hips.

  “Make love to me,” I whispered.

  Brandon took my bottom lip into his mouth and gently sucked it as he adjusted my hips above him. We stared at each other, drowning in sorrow and unspoken affection, as he slowly entered me, the warm water rippling with our connection. I dug my nails into his back and took a ragged breath as more tears leaked from my eyes. He felt amazing. We felt amazing together.

  Finally, with nothing left between us, an indescribable energy awakened my heart, my dreams, and most dangerously, my hope. He must have sensed it in my stare, in the jade of my eyes.

  His gaze moved over my face as heartbreaking honesty left his lips. “I wish love was enough to fix me. I won’t hurt you anymore, Penny. I can’t.”

  I nodded slightly before pulling him closer and resting my cheek against the side of his head, trying to shield him from the pain in my eyes.

  “I’ll never forget you,” he whispered into my ear. “No matter what happens, I’ll never forget.”

  My breath hitched as new tears fell from my eyes, taking with them the last drops of faith I’d had left. I wouldn’t think about the end when all I had was now, so I kissed him instead.

  I kissed him with everything I had. I kissed him like it was the last time our mouths would touch, like it was my last chance to show him how much he meant to me.

  Maybe it was.

  I wanted us to stay in that moment, suspended in time.

  Just me and Brandon and our liquid love.

  I had been dreaming about birds—loudly chirping, annoying birds—when Brandon shook me awake.

  “Penelope, wake up! Come on! Get up!”

  I quickly lifted my head. My eyes popped open when I realized the chirping hadn’t stopped.

  “We need to get out of here! Now! There’s a fire!” he yelled as he rushed over to his dresser and tossed me some clothes.

  I realized the birds were really fire alarms, and my body quickly reacted. I jumped out of bed and pulled on the T-shirt and shorts Brandon had given me. He was shirtless with a pair of jeans on, and he was shoving his feet into his boots. He snatched his phone off the nightstand and stuck it into his back pocket.

  “Come on,” he said, holding his hand out for me.

  I quickly grabbed it and my purse as he dragged me behind him and toward his living room. I gasped when I saw the smoke hovering in the air, and I felt the heat coming from the hallway.

  He reached for the door and quickly pulled his hand back. “Shit!”

  Looking around, he picked up one of the towels we’d left on the floor after our bath, and he used it to cover the knob before he turned it. As soon as the door opened, the air in the room was sucked out, and I gaped at the vicious flames flicking in the hallway in front of us.

  Brandon wrapped his arm around me, snapping me out of my shock, and he quickly pulled me out of the apartment and toward the stairs. “Get out! Now!” he shouted, giving me a push.

>   I quickly turned around in fear. “No, Brandon! What are you doing?”

  “Maddy!” he called as he rushed to the door across the hall.

  Just as he reached it, the door opened, and I saw her small silhouette being lifted into his arms. I glanced downstairs, and aside from the smoke, it looked clear. The fire must have started somewhere on the second floor.

  Running toward me, Brandon yelled, “Go! Go! Go!” as he carried Madison in his arms.

  My adrenaline was pumping as I ran down the stairs as fast as I could. A few people rushed out of their apartments, wearing their pajamas, as we made our way toward the front of the building. When the door finally opened, we sucked in the clean air and started coughing. We didn’t stop until we were in the street with a small crowd gathering around the building.

  Madison lifted her head from Brandon’s shoulder, and her gaze instantly went across the street.

  “Mom! Oh no! Mom! She’s in there!” she screamed, her small voice sounding so desperate and panicked.

  Brandon set her down and held on to her arms. He looked into her eyes, trying to calm her. “Are you sure she’s in there?”

  Madison frantically nodded her head and pointed to a car parked across the street. “She must be home! Her car is right there!”

  My heart was racing. If her mom was up there, her chance of surviving was shrinking by the second. The fire was only growing.

  As if on cue, a window exploded on the second floor, spraying glass all over the sidewalk. People screamed, and we all backed up. Madison shrieked, and I instantly wrapped my arms around her, pulling her toward me.

  Brandon handed me his phone. “Call nine-one-one.”

  I met his eyes, and my heart plummeted as soon as I figured out what he was doing. His eyes were hard and determined, and he gave me a small nod. Dread flooded my veins, and I reached out just as he ran back toward the burning building.

  “No! Brandon! Come back! You can’t go!” I cried out to him.

  But he didn’t listen.

  I watched in horror as he disappeared into the smoke, and the people around us talked in panicked whispers. I pulled Madison closer and kept my eyes on the door as she sobbed into my shirt.