Ember Skies

by Nicky Crawford

  Ember Skies

  By:

  Nicky Crawford

  Copyright © 2015 Nicky Crawford

  Cover Art by All By Design:

  http://kristi609.wix.com/allbydesign

  Interior Formatting by That Formatting Lady:

  www.facebook.com/ThatFormattingLady/

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  A Note from the Author

  If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship, please, PLEASE get help. You are not alone. No one should ever be subjected to abuse, whether it be verbal or physical. You may think you are not strong enough to leave or you have no other option but to stay, but let me tell you something… YOU are strong! You’re brave, beautiful, and deserve SO much more.

  “Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” –Albus Dumbledore

  Your strength is the light. YOU are enough. Get help!

  National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE

  “A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to preserve and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.”

  –Christopher Reeve

  “Sometimes what you’re most afraid of doing, is the thing that will set you free.”

  –Unknown

  A Note from the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Author Acknowledgments

  Tomorrow is our annual cookout. Since transferring to Fort Benning five years ago, my husband and I have hosted a “kick off to summer” party every year. The first three years were a lot of fun and I looked forward to the endless preparations, hours of cooking, and an entire night with a backyard full of friends and laughs, but my life has changed tremendously in the past two years, and my excitement for our tradition has turned into pure dread.

  I have just spent the last sixteen hours busting my ass at work and now I’m running around the grocery store with a cart full of grill items, sides, ingredients to bake a mountain of desserts, and enough coke, water, and beer to last a lifetime. I review my party list one last time when I hear a voice behind me.

  “Ember! I’m so glad I ran into you. How are you?”

  “Hi Sarah, I’m great. How are you?”

  My husband is a Sergeant First Class in the Army. He has a lot of Soldiers under him and he drills into me the importance of appearance. I am expected to always appear as nothing less than infectiously happy whenever I am out in public, and as bad as I want to tell Sarah that I am in fact not fine, I have to maintain a positive attitude.

  “I’m wonderful. Brad and I are excited for the cookout, as always. I’ve been meaning to call and ask you what we should bring.”

  For the first three cookouts, we had a potluck and everyone brought a dish to pass, but since things are different now, I am expected to do all the food preparations by myself, because that is what the “perfect host” does. The perfect host does not expect anything but attendance from her guests, or so my husband says.

  “I have everything handled, Sarah. Just bring yourself and Brad. I’m good to go, but thank you so much for offering.”

  She smiles and gives me a quick hug, “If you need help, let me know. See you tomorrow, Ember.”

  As I load the last grocery bag into my truck and sit behind the wheel, I’m suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. As an ER nurse, I am used to running around crazy for my entire twelve-hour shift, but last night was beyond ridiculous and I was asked to pick up an extra four hours this morning. I’m fairly certain every single person in this town needed medical attention last night. My feet and back are sore and the thought of spending half the night preparing for the cookout is sickening.

  I make it home and start to unload my vehicle. As always, my kitchen is in complete disarray. There are dirty dishes on the counter, empty beer bottles lining the sink, and condiments left out next to the fridge. Heaven forbid he takes a step to his left to place the mustard and ketchup back into the fridge where they belong. I let out a long sigh and begin my ritual of cleaning up after my husband. It never use to be like this. We use to be a team, but two years ago everything seemed to change overnight and I don’t even know who Austin is anymore. The man I married would do anything to keep me safe and help me. The man I am married to now doesn’t do either of those things.

  Last year my parents wanted to start a tradition of keeping our daughter, Harlee, for three weeks in the summer. It works out quite perfectly that their three weeks with her is the same time as our annual cookout. Chasing a three year old around while doing all the work it takes to prepare the perfect cookout, is rather difficult. I miss Harlee every moment I am away from her, but being with my parents for a while is a great bonding experience for them, plus I get to fly to Alabama to get her, and a weekend away is exactly what I need.

  I finally have all the groceries put up and the house clean. I have a few hours before Austin is supposed to be home and I really do not need to start making sides and desserts until tonight and then the rest I will prepare in the morning. I just need to lie down for an hour and I will hopefully feel refreshed enough to plaster on my “perfect wife” smile and have dinner ready before Austin is home.

  My eyes fly open in fear as a firm hand grips my forearm. His nails dig into my flesh as he rips me off the couch, “Austin, let go, you’re hurting me!” His blue eyes that once held nothing but love and adoration for me are now cold and angry.

  “We have a cookout tomorrow and you’re sleeping! Why isn’t my dinner on the table?” His nails dig deeper into my skin as he searches my eyes for an answer.

  “I was exhausted. I only meant to sleep for an hour. Let go, please, I…” I try to finish my sentence but the back of his hand whips across my face, causing me to hit the side of my face on the coffee table.

  “I don’t need excuses, I need dinner. Get in the kitchen and bring me a beer while you’re at it.” His voice is bitter and the smell of alcohol is radiating off him. Tears stream down my cheeks as I rush into the kitchen.

  I open the fridge and let the cool air escape, enveloping me in a temporary state of numbness. I quickly regain my composure, grab a beer, and wipe my tears before making my way back into the living room. Austin lets out a long sigh as he
takes the beer from my hand and takes a long pull, drinking half the contents in one swoop. I head back into the kitchen and make him dinner. I don’t know how I slept through the alarm I set on my phone. I was so much more exhausted than I had thought. My face hurts so badly and I can already feel it starting to swell. I know I’ll have a black eye tomorrow and I need a good cover story.

  We finish dinner in silence. I stand up from the table and bring both of our plates to the sink. As I start the dishes, I hear Austin come up behind me and I instantly tense up. His body is pressed against my back as his hands run up my arms and land on my shoulders. He places a single kiss on my cheek as his hardness presses against my backside.

  “I’m sorry, Sweets. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  My entire body shutters at his admission. Every time he yells or hits me, he throws a simple apology my way as if I’m supposed to just forget what happened.

  “I… know. I’m going to start baking desserts for tomorrow, you go enjoy some downtime.”

  He turns me around to face him and presses his lips roughly to mine. I can smell the alcohol seeping from his pores and it takes every bit of effort in me to kiss him back.

  He finally pulls away and winks at me, “Don’t take too long. I need to be inside you tonight.”

  I nod and force a half smile as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I fall to my knees and sob. I’m almost to the point of hyperventilating before I force myself to calm down. I run cool water in the sink and splash my face. After a few minutes, I finally regain my composure and begin to prepare desserts for the cookout.

  It’s 1:00 a.m. and I’ve finally placed the last dessert on my counter. After finishing up the last of the dishes, I glance around the kitchen at all the baked goods I had made. Chocolate chip cookies are stacked on my baking racks, numerous flavors of cheesecake are lined up side by side on my center island, and a three layer chocolate raspberry cake is taking up temporary residency in my fridge. After making sure I had baked enough, I place the cheesecakes in the fridge in our garage and seal up my baking rack to keep the cookies fresh. The desserts are finished, but I’ll be plenty busy in the morning getting all the sides and appetizers made.

  I slowly make my way upstairs. With every step I take, my heart beats faster and my breathing increases. I want to sleep so badly, but I know he won’t let me until I give myself to him. I hate feeling dirty after he touches me. I hate pretending to enjoy the feel of him inside me, knowing that just a few hours ago he put his hands on me in a way that no man should ever put his hands on his wife. Just breathe. You’ll get through this, you always get through this. I coach myself into as calm a state as I can muster before I reach my bedroom door. I swallow hard as I grab the door handle, screw on my smile, and head into my own personal hell. Austin looks up at me and places his paperwork on the nightstand, “It’s about damn time. Get over here, I need you on your knees in front of me.”

  I hardly slept last night. Austin’s arm hung around my waist as he pressed himself against me the entire night. I remember how amazing it used to feel when his strong arms engulfed me while we slept, but now his arms harbor no comfort at all. I snuck out of bed and made my way into the shower. The hot water acted as my own fumigation tent as I let the presence of him wash away with each drop of water that hit my body. When I shut the water off, I hear Austin stir and quickly get dressed so I can make my way into the kitchen before he notices me.

  I hate how weak he makes me feel. I am a strong woman. I work hard and I love even harder, but this is one fight I simply cannot win without a well thought out plan. Austin never lets his anger leave this house, so no one would ever believe me if I told them what he was really like. There is one person who knows, but my best friend is smart enough to keep her mouth shut until I figure out what to do. Austin said if I even try to tell someone or try to leave, he will take Harlee. I need to be smart about getting out of this, I just have no idea where to begin.

  Morning fades into the afternoon and I finally have all the food prepared, with the exception of the hamburgers and chicken that Austin will be grilling tonight. Some of the guys from Austin’s unit came by this morning to set up tables, chairs, and a variety of games. Beer pong is a favorite among our usual guests. The coolers need ice and beverages, and then we will be all set.

  I spend the next few hours making sure the inside and outside of my house are spotless before I head upstairs to get ready. People will be arriving soon and I have to look my best when they do. I had been so preoccupied with cooking that I never noticed how badly my arm had bruised from his tight grip. I was struggling to find an outfit that would hide the handprint on my forearm, but that wouldn’t cause me to pass out from the heat, when Austin walks in. “Ember, why are you not dressed? People will be showing up any minute.”

  I glanced in his direction, bringing my forearm into his line of vision. “I don’t know what to wear to cover this.”

  He walked closer and grabbed my wrist, taking his time to study the marks he left. “I didn’t realize I had left marks. I’m sorry.” He walks to the closest and pulls out a box, “Wear whatever, but put this tattoo sleeve on. We will tell everyone you spilled boiling water on your arm and then slipped and hit your face. Now hurry up and get dressed, I’ll be downstairs waiting.”

  It baffles me how he can go from sweet to abusive to apologetic and then to being demanding in such a short time span. If he was this way with other people, I would think he had a personality disorder, but it’s only with me and he is only physically violent when he drinks.

  I browsed my closet for a few minutes before deciding on a sleeveless, peach colored dress. The dress hugged my body like a glove and fell well above my knees. I let my dark brown hair fall in large ringlets halfway down my back and slipped my feet into a pair of white flip-flops. The summer heat had come early this year, so it was already exceptionally warm. I slid the tattoo sleeve over my bruises and glanced in the mirror one last time. With a heavy sigh, I made my way downstairs.

  Austin’s face lit up as I walked toward the kitchen where he stood with handfuls of beverages to put in the cooler. “You look exceptional, Ember. I can’t wait to get that dress off you later.”

  I forced a smile and followed him outdoors.

  Our friends began to arrive shortly after. Luckily, I was able to hide my bruised eye under a large pair of fashionable sunglasses. Since most of the women in attendance were wearing similar eyewear, I wasn’t in fear of looking suspicious.

  “Ember, you look beautiful.”

  I turned around to see my best friend, Harper.

  “Thank God you’re here. I thought you had to work.”

  Harper pulled me into a hug, “I found someone to cover my shift. I couldn’t miss your cook… Why is your arm covered?”

  Before I could say anything, she pulled the sleeve down. Her eyes filled with rage as she took in the fingernail marks on my forearm. I quickly put the sleeve back in its place before anyone noticed. Luckily, Austin had his back to us and our bodies had been slightly turned away from my guests when she pulled the sleeve off. “That son of a bitch! When did he do that, honey?”

  I leaned in and replied in a hushed tone, “I feel asleep and didn’t have dinner ready when he got home last night. He flipped out.”

  Harper’s lips pinched tightly together and her arms flew around my neck, pulling me close to her. “We have to do something. You cannot live like this, Ember, and neither can Harlee.”

  I let a single tear escape my eye as I thought about my sweet little girl with her beautiful tanned skin, dark brown hair, and bright blue eyes. Her smile is infectious and her laugh warms my heart. He never hits me in front of Harlee, and I promise his life will end the moment he does something in front of her. “Come on, Harp. We do not need to draw attention to ourselves. It’s time to mingle.”

  People were scattered all over our large backyard. A group of guys were lined up alongside the beer pong table, some people were dancin
g to the country music that blared from my iPod, and others spent time snacking and catching up with others. I knew everyone here and slowly made my way around to greet the familiar faces.

  I felt a hand grab mine and a warm breath on the side of my neck, “Why don’t you go lay all the sides out and I’ll start loading the grill up now. I think everyone’s hungry.”

  I nodded and started to walk inside when Austin grabbed my wrist and turned me toward him. His hand slipped behind my neck and wrapped around my hair as his lips pressed aggressively against mine. He was caught up in the moment and pulled my hair roughly, as he deepened his kiss.

  “Austin, ouch, my hair.”

  He pulled away and rolled his eyes at me before turning and heading toward the grill.

  I kept myself busy inside as I pulled potato salad, fruit salad, and deviled eggs from the fridge and placed them on my kitchen table. My counter was reserved for all the desserts I had baked. One of the tables outside was loaded with chips and other party snacks. As I reached into the fridge to pull out my chocolate raspberry layer cake, Austin walked in; accompanied by a man I had never seen before.

  “Ember, this is Dalton Bates.”

  My face lit up in recognition as I extended my hand toward him, “Dalton, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to put a face to your name.”

  His eyes gravitated to my black eye and he forced a smile as he placed his hand in mine, griping it firmly, yet sweetly. He turned to Austin, his hand still holding mine, “Austin, you never told me how beautiful your wife is.” He turned back to me and released my hand, “Ember, it’s great to finally meet you.”

  Austin is completely unfazed by the compliment and instead of responding, he simply stifles a laugh and turns his back to us while he stuffs deviled eggs into his mouth.

  I take a moment to admire Dalton. He is insanely attractive. His hair is dark brown and it looks so soft, I want to run my fingers through it. His green eyes and smile are breathtaking and I can’t help but squirm when I notice that his eyes haven’t left mine. He’s just staring at me. His khaki shorts hug his perfect ass and show off his chiseled legs. His t-shirt is form fitting and every muscle on his arms is visible and he has a variety of bright colored tattoos. Damn he is sexy. I quickly come to my senses and direct my eyes elsewhere as he laughs under his breath.