Igniting Ash

by M.A. Stacie

  Gabe toed the floor. “She, um, she knows. She’s always known.”

  “Are you telling me you’ve been seeing her for a while? From before you moved into the shelter?”

  Gabe nodded. “They didn’t know about her. She’s not in danger or anything.”

  His declaration didn’t sit well with Emma, but then nothing about Gabe’s situation did. He’d kept his girlfriend quiet so she could only hope he was correct when he said she was safe. Gabe had dealt with enough pain.

  “So, Asher, what did you need me to do?”

  After giving Emma a hug, he pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “Out back. Got a few boxes of books that need cataloguing. They came in yesterday and the job is a big one. It’s time consuming.”

  “So I’m going to be stuck putting stuff into the database then?”

  “Yeah, afraid so.”

  “Hmm, okay but can I go to the shop and pick up some juice and snacks first? Need something to keep me focused.”

  “Sure,” Asher agreed letting Gabe stalk over to the door. “Wait!” he shouted as the kid reached for the handle. “Angel, do you want a coffee? I’ll go and grab us one. Some breakfast too.” He lowered his lips to her ear. “I worked up an appetite.”

  “A coffee would be fabulous,” she responded, beating down the flush of bashfulness. “Breakfast would be good too.”

  “Excellent. Leave the shop closed until we get back.”

  She let them leave, wandering over to the bookshelves. She let her fingers flick along the spines, reading the titles and rearranging a few of them back into alphabetical order. The bell sounded over the front door just as she took a book from the shelf. Emma cocked her head around the bookshelf, taking in the man who’d entered. “Sorry, we’re not open yet.”

  He zeroed in on her, a cold chill zipping down her spine. Goose bumps broke out across every inch of her skin and apprehension weight heavy in her guts. “I said we’re closed,” she stated, trying to remain calm.

  “Then now is the best time for us to become acquainted. Isn’t it…Emma?”

  The door clicked closed.

  Chapter 23

  “Do I know you?” Emma asked as her fingers tightened around the book she was holding. The oily snake of apprehension began to coil low in her belly. This wasn’t a customer. He’d come for her, and the man’s icy glared chilled her to the bone.

  “I don’t know, Emma. Do you?”

  She stared right back at him, straightening her shoulders and stiffening her spine. Asher would be back soon. “How do you know my name?”

  “Wasn’t difficult. Watched. Waited.” He sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

  “You!” she gasped. “You were the one following me.”

  He took one step toward her, his dirty, scuffed trainers squeaking on the wood floor. Emma recoiled, her mind scrambling for a way forward, a plan to get her away from him, or to stall him long enough for Asher and Gabe to return.

  “I had to watch you.” His sneer made her shiver. “You kept sticking your nose where it wasn’t wanted.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Do not try to tell me you were doing your job!” He shouted, pointing a dirty finger at her. “That’s bullshit! Your rich daddy keeps your bank balance topped up. So you shouldn’t be getting yourself involved in family business.”

  Still trying to absorb what the man was saying, Emma retreated another step. “H-How do you know about my father? Do you know him?”

  His bark of sickening laughter bounced off the walls. Emma cringed. The roar of her rushing blood pounded in her ears, and she tried to beat down her increasingly rising panic.

  “Darlin’ why the hell would you make that leap? Do I look like the kind of person who’d hang with your daddy? Why don’t you use your university education and work it out.”

  Asher. She needed Asher. Sending out a mental cry for his help, she assessed the man in front of her. His appearance was dishevelled and dirty, his hair greasy, his nails filthy. He could be homeless but then that didn’t explain why he was here and how he knew so much about her.

  “Why don’t you just tell me why you’re here? What’s your name?” It was useless; even she couldn’t miss the tremble in her voice. He knew she was scared.

  Emma looked around him, trying to see through the window but he blocked her. “Your boyfriend isn’t here. I watched him leave. Along with that little shit.”

  “Who? Gabe?” The recognition that shone in his eyes at the mention of Gabe’s name told her what she feared most. “You’re the one.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “You’re the one who hurt him.”

  In the blink of an eye his hand his hand manacled around her wrist and her body slammed hard against a bookshelf. Books toppled onto the floor as she bit her lip to stop from crying out.

  “That little shit deserved every bastard thing that happened to him. Never knew what was fucking good for him. All I did was teach him lessons that he kept forgetting.” He tightened his hold on her wrist, causing tears to prick at her eyes. “Whatever he told you, it was his own fault.”

  “You turned a knife on him. I doubt he asked you to do that. Or turned it on himself either.” She was trying to stay strong, trying to hold the tears at bay, because she had a feeling the man holding her hostage would enjoy her upset.

  He snarled, lifting her hand from the shelf, only to slap it back. Hard. Something cracked and pain sliced along her forearm. Emma cried out.

  “Don’t act like you know what goes on in our family.” He smelled of cigarettes and beer. The smell, together with the searing pain, had her retching. “Throw up on me, bitch and you’ll be sorry. Really fucking sorry.” His fingers tightened on her wrist.

  Emma screamed, the hurt so intense that black spots appeared in front of her eyes. Bile burned in her throat, and the only way through the red, torturous cloud was to think of Asher. Asher would help. He’d lost so much, so there was no way she was going to buckle to this man. He would not wreck her. No matter how much she desperately wanted to crawl into a corner and hide. Gabe must have been terrified every waking moment.

  Sweat coated her forehead. She could feel it trickling down her spine too, and she had little control over her erratic breathing. The throb in her wrist increased, and it took everything she had to grit her teeth and make eye contact with him. “W-Why do you want me?”

  His top lip curled. “Because you wouldn’t leave it alone, bitch. You kept sticking your posh fucking nose in my family’s business. So I’m sticking my nose in yours.” A slow sickening smile spread across his face. “Did you get daddy to pay for your boyfriend’s window?”

  He squeezed her wrist again. Emma repressed a shudder, although she couldn’t stop the groan that rumbled from her lips. Her knees buckled, the ache making her head spin.

  “Thought you’d be stronger, angel. Thought you’d at least try and get away from me.”

  The use of Asher’s endearment cleared the haze of torment for an instant. She pulled on her arm, screaming as she wrenched it free from his hold. Twisting, she ran as quickly as she could, her petrified legs wobbling under the exertion.

  Emma didn’t even get to the door before he fisted her hair in his hand and yanked her back. Needles of pain hit her scalp when he pulled, dragging her back by her hair. Unable to hold it back any longer, she started to cry, silent sobs rolling through her body. When he saw her tears he laughed. “Rich-bitch finally getting that there’s no way out. Glad you’re getting it now. Took my brother years to get it. But then you come along and try to give him what you ain’t getting: an escape.”

  Emma blinked through her tears, gasping through the stabbing torment pulsing in her wrist. “Your b-brother? Gabe is your brother?”

  “Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! Didn’t he tell you? Now that does surprise me. Maybe he did listen to what I taught him. There may be hope for the little bastard.” Spittle hit her face from the harsh malice of his words. The man was disgusti
ng.

  “Why would you…” She inhaled sharply, fighting for clarity. “Why would you hurt your brother?”

  He didn’t even pause to think. “Because I’m sick and pissing tired of being his keeper. He’s like a fucking puppy the way he hangs around. So when he’s getting under my feet he gets a kicking. Just like a damn dog would.”

  “He lives there! He deserves to hang around as much as you,” she protested.

  He hovered over her, his face inches from hers. “Speak to me like that again and you’ll know just how it feels. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

  Emma cowered, keeping her breaths short and shallow to ease the pain. “But he’s your brother,” she said weakly.

  “Like I give a fuck! I decided years ago that I wasn’t going to be his keeper any longer. He’s not my kid, and yet I’m the one he came snivelling to. Never went to his old man because he was too drunk to care.” His arm flailed wildly around, his eyes bugging out of his head as he snarled each word.

  He terrified her, and no matter how much she tried to think of a way out, she couldn’t. She was relying on Asher.

  “What did he do to deserve being stabbed?” She was playing with fire, however she had to keep stalling him.

  He shrugged, finally letting her hair go with a push to the floor. “Can’t remember. Don’t matter anyway. He came to you and now we have the cops banging on the door. As well as that stuck up social worker.” He turned to her. “Gabe didn’t tell them though, did he?”

  Emma could only stare back in response.

  “Because if he had of told you, you would have known who I was. You had no clue.”

  “I…um…I didn’t know it was you who was following me. I don’t understand why you did that. If you don’t want Gabe in your life then stop with all this. Let Gabe go.”

  His laughter had bile rising up her throat, burning her oesophagus. “No, no, no, little Miss. You see us Dearing men are taught at a very young age to plan the long game. You see, I saw you with him, followed you to warn you off, but what did I see? I saw just how much money you and daddy have. So you see, what would be the point of letting you take my brother for free? Why would I do that when I could get something in return?”

  Emma’s stomach sank like lead. “You want me to buy Gabe from you? Buy his safety? Are you joking?”

  “Why would that be a joke? You have money. You want my brother. That seems like a pretty straight forward transaction to me, darlin’.”

  Scrabbling back to sit against the far wall, Emma reached up to touch the raw skin on the back of her head. It was wet, and as she pulled her fingers away, the sticky, red blood coating them had her head spinning. Her thoughts scattered. No amount of trying could get her to accept that he thought this was all a good idea. He had to know it would go wrong—that he couldn’t ask her to pay for Gabe.

  “Gabe doesn’t need me to pay for him. He’s doing great at the shelter, and he’ll keep doing so. He’s safe now.”

  He rushed toward her, bringing her face right up to her. His top lip curled. “Don’t mess with me, bitch! You’ll do what I want or you’ll start to see why Gabe ran to you.”

  A part of her snapped. The weak, terrified person who cowered away from this monster rose up. Her legs wobbled, her body coated in goose bumps and sweat. She inhaled deeply, taking in the mocking expression on his face. He was playing with her, waiting to see what she was going to do. Her voice quivered. “Threats won’t get you anywhere. Hurting me won’t make me give you any money.”

  His hand snapped out, his fist connecting with her face.

  Stars flashed in front of her eyes. The pain causing her to gasp and drop to her knees. Piercing threads of sharp intensity zipped around her skull, and as she reached up to touch the area, he shoved her to the ground. Emma curled into a ball, the splintering headache growing worse by the second. Hoping to shut it all down, she closed her eyes, biting back a sob.

  “Not so fucking gobby now, are you?” His boot connected with her stomach, her insides contracting in response. Her sobs turned into a retching cough, hacking at her chest until it grew wet and produced a pool of blood. This wasn’t good, and if someone didn’t come and help her soon she had the dark, horrid feeling he wouldn’t stop.

  “Getting a little taster of what I give to Gabe when he backchats me.” He kicked her again, laughing loudly as he did. “Do you need a bit more, Priss?”

  Her blood ran cold. He must have been watching her every waking minute to know that level of information. Emma was about to beg him, about to plead with him to stop, when she heard glass shatter. A roar of anguish rolled into the bookshop, one that cut through her. No matter how much pain she was feeling right now, the haze of it dispersed when she understood who was here.

  Asher.

  “Angel, I’m coming. Sit tight, baby.” The sound of a sickening punch rent through the air. Followed by another one right after. She could hear Asher shouting loud curses, each one of them punctuated by a grunt and a crunch. The laughter from Gabe’s brother died. The absence left her with a series of punches, slaps, moans, and crunches.

  Mustering whatever strength she had left, Emma tried to sit up. Her body shook and her stomach protested massively. She knew a scuffle had broken out. Blinking through her clouded vision, she opened her mouth to speak.

  “It’s okay, Priss.”

  Emma winced at the term even though she recognised the owner of the voice. Her head spun as she turned to face Gabe. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, touching her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

  Swallowing back some of the coppery blood, Emma shook her head. “Not you,” she wheezed.

  Gabe helped her up, though when he reached for her hand she wailed in protest. The pain was now so intense she struggled to lift it.

  “Oh, shit,” Gabe muttered. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  Spots once again filled her vision. She squinted, bracing herself on Gabe as she searched the room for Asher. She needing his comfort, needed his arms around her, but what she found had her blood cooling further. Gabe’s brother lay motionless on the floor, Asher braced over him. Blood coated the man’s face, fresh cuts now on his lips, cheeks and nose. Asher didn’t stop. Even though the man was showing no resistance Asher kept a firm grip of his sweatshirt and continued to punch him.

  “Ash?”

  He snarled, pulling back his fist but stopping before he let rip. Blood dripped from his fist and she could now see it coated his T-shirt too.

  “Asher…”

  Meeting her gaze, he froze. She moved her hand, intending to reach for him. Pain surged up her arm, a scream bursting from her mouth. Asher recoiled, scuttling back across the shop floor. He stared at his hands, glared at the red, congealed blood that covered them, and then looked back at her and Gabe. The sound of a police siren drifted in to her consciousness and grew ever louder. She dropped to her knees, unable to stand any longer. She needed to get to him but just couldn’t move. Thankfully Gabe went for her, but the utter detachment that shone in Asher’s eyes had tears bursting free.

  “W-What did I do?” he asked, holding his hands up at her. “What happened?”

  Chapter 24

  “Emma?”

  Emma opened her eyes to see her father enter the hospital room. The worry etched across his forehead explained his cautious tone, although he calmed a little when he saw her. She squinted through her blurry vision. Her head throbbed, every movement felt like torture, and when she attempted to move, her ribs screamed in protest.

  “Hey,” her father soothed. “Don’t try to move, honey. Stay still and you’ll be just fine.”

  She offered him a weak smile, but the moment she did the side of her face exploded with shards of pain. “Ow. Oh, ow, that hurts.” Her voice was gravelly and raw. She now understood what people meant when they said they felt like they’d been run over by a truck. If flashes of what happened in Asher’s bookshop weren’t front and centre in her head, a runaway truck would have been her first guess.


  “Dad, I—”

  “Hush now. You rest.” He stroked a strand of hair from her face. “Close your eyes. I’ll sit here while you sleep. You won’t be alone.”

  She understood his unspoken message. However, resting was the last thing she could do right now. After everything that had happened, she only wanted to know one thing. “Where’s Asher?”

  His one quick look toward the door had her heart pounding and panic lacing her blood. Something was very wrong. Her father placed his hand on her arm, lowering his head before he spoke. “Asher isn’t here.”

  “What do you mean?” She swung her legs, making a move from the bed. Pain sliced through her, the grumble at her father morphing into a scream. He scooped her up and shifted her back onto the bed, but she couldn’t focus on anything except the pulsing horror within her. Scrunching her eyes closed, Emma sucked her breath in steadily between her teeth. It stung; everything did. How could merely breathing be so painful?

  “You shouldn’t go exerting yourself, sweetheart. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal and your body needs to start healing.”

  “Asher,” she hissed. “Tell me about Asher.”

  “Meagan’s on her way,” Jonathan stated as if he hadn’t heard her demand. “We’ll no doubt hear about her arrival before we see her. She likes to make an entrance, that girl.”

  Emma forced her eyes open, the shards of light lancing through her head. “Daddy. Please.”

  Jonathan’s lips thinned as he sat down on the edge of her bed. Her father appeared to have aged ten years in a matter of hours. Or had it been days? She didn’t have the slightest clue.

  He took her hand between his, taking for too long to speak. “Do you…Emma, do you remember what happened?”

  Snapshots of the bookshop burst into her brain like the rapid flash of a camera. So much blood. So much anger. So much aggression. How could she forget any of that? Ever. Asher had morphed into someone she didn’t recognise, and all she wanted now was to know what had happened. Where was he?