Ash

by Julieanne Lynch

  Ash

  ISBN-13: 978-1535045612

  ISBN-10: 1535045612

  © Julieanne Lynch 2016

  Cover by Irish Ink © Copyright (September 2016)

  Model: Marshall Perrin

  Photography by Wander Pedro Aguiar

  Edited by S. H. Books Editing Services

  Formatted by Irish Ink

  Julieanne Lynch, LLC

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning, or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Julieanne Lynch.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Julieanne Lynch. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2016 by Julieanne Lynch

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content, which is only suitable for mature readers.

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Julieanne Lynch

  About the Author

  Torn between love and duty.

  One man must fight for what is his.

  Ash Benton had it all.

  A loving wife.

  A flourishing career.

  A little boy who adores him.

  All that comes crashing down when his past catches up with him.

  Love and grief bring out the worst in people. In Ash’s case, the long winding path to self-destruction.

  With nothing but his son on his mind, two very different women try to pull him in opposite directions. Ash struggles with honoring his wife’s dying words, and is haunted by the errors of his ways.

  Can he overcome his internal battle?

  Will he finally allow love to mend his broken heart?

  For Brandy.

  Without you, this novel would never have made it past round one.

  To YOU, my amazing reader, thank you for loving me every step of the way. And if you’re new, welcome aboard. It’ll be a bumpy ride.

  Huge love and thanks to the elite: My amazing agent, Italia Gandolfo—thanks for your belief and love for all that I do. I could not have asked for a better champion. My publicist, Rick Miles, and his team at Red Coat PR—I love you guys! My friend and confident, LK Griffie, it takes someone special to truly know me, thank you for always talking me off the edge. Michelle McLoughney, Holy Christ girl, I love you! I’ve had no better love and support. Thank you for being YOU! My beautiful husband, Sean, there are no other words other than I LOVE YOU! My wonderful, slightly insane children—you push me to strive to be a better me. I wouldn’t be the woman I am today if it weren’t for the five of you. My parents and sister’s—it must be nuts having me in your lives, but so much nicer, right? My amazing editor, Nancy Medina, you and I have a good thing, and for that, I thank God every day.

  And now, some love to those involved in this project from day one. The incredible team behind the scenes:

  Leigh Stone, who has been nothing short of amazing. Owner and founder of Irish Ink, she’s been a blessing to work with and I love the pants off her. Andrey Bahia, who was just so lovely to me from the get-go. He understood my passion and was a pleasure to work with. Thank you. Wander Aguiar, photographer extraordinaire. What can I say? You captured the perfect reflection of Ash and I will be eternally grateful for your talent and vision. Thank you. Marshall Perrin, for being my muse and the perfect representation of Ash. The world is going to fall in love with you. Thank you. Brandy, you were a fan, who became a friend, and now a close confident. I bow my head to you. You put your life on the line every time you step inside that plane, and I swear to god, you are amazing. Jenny Flores, PA to Wander. You got first dibs on this baby, and I was so nervous, but you assured me everything would be fine. Thank you, kiddo. Michelle Simm, how could I ever thank you for being my Twatwaffler. I swear to God, the world needs more people like you in it. I love you. Kirsty Turner, new reader, new fan, new friend, and a bloody brilliant chick. Thank you for falling in love with my Ash. I think he’s a keeper. And thank you for your honesty.

  God Bless xo

  “The human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence sealed; The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, Whose charms were broken if revealed.” ~ Charlotte Bronte

  The fire burned around us, not giving us a moment to catch our breaths. Heat penetrated through the visor. Sweat dripped down my forehead, and I blinked a few times, following Joe as he pushed a mattress from the doorway. We had already bust down doors and checked for any remaining trapped tenants.

  Whole floors crumbled fast. It was a disaster zone.

  Thick black smoke surrounded us. The temperature became so intense, it threatened to overwhelm our protective clothing. We could see no more than a few feet in front of us when we heard the muffled cries of a small child.

  “We need to get through there,” Joe shouted, pointing at the door.

  I nodded and helped move debris and furniture aside. Flames billowed around us. The possibility of finding the child grew slim. The longer it took us to locate her, the less chance she’d survive. No fire was ever predictable. Regardless of my own thoughts, we had a job to do. I wasn’t about to backtrack on everything I stood for.

  Crawling through the dense smoke, my captain led the way into a small annex at the back of the seventh floor apartment. The cries got louder.

  “She’s in here,” I muttered.

  Through ragged breaths, I continued moving slowly and with caution, not once breaking momentum. Not until I saw the small eyes of the child. Her tear-stained cheeks were blackened from the smoke. I reached out for her.

  “Mama . . . Mama,” she mumbled, struggling to stay awake.

  In desperation, I took her into my arms, shielding her small body from the flames. I made my way back through the building, never once stopping until we were outside, clear of the smoke and fire.

  A small crowd broke into cheers when they saw me emerge from the structure with the child. The entire apartment block had been vacated. I glanced up the street and saw the line of spectators double as they observed the fire. I turned and continued walking.


  The little girl held onto me, afraid for her life.

  I held her tight and approached the paramedic.

  He checked her over, making sure she was okay. “She’s a clinger,” Marco said, listening to her chest.

  “He’s a real ladies man,” Tyler remarked, nodding at me as he walked past the bus.

  “I can’t help it that I know how to handle kids,” I said in my defense.

  I smiled and gazed down at her. She couldn’t have been older than my own little boy, Jake. For the briefest moment, panic set in. In the far reaches of my mind, I wondered how Jake would cope if he’d been in the little girl’s shoes. Would he have known to do what I’ve always told him? Imagining all the what ifs and terrible outcomes left me craving home more than ever.

  Five minutes later, the little girl was reunited with her crying mother.

  “Thank you so much,” the mother cried, cradling the child in her arms. She closed her eyes and held a hand out to me. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I’m just doing my job.”

  I smiled and turned to walk away when I heard her say, “God bless you.”

  Hearing those words brought it all back to me. Connie’s lifeless face, the looks of sympathy, Jake in my mother’s arms, the constant words of “God bless you,” the warm handshakes, and a headache that never seemed to end. I closed my eyes, willing the memory to go away.

  Someone patted me on the shoulder.

  “You did good in there, Ash,” Joe said.

  “I did what any of us would do,” I replied, opening my eyes.

  Joe glared at me. “You good?”

  “Of course,” I lied.

  “You make sure Marco checks you over.” He pointed a finger at me as if I were a bad child.

  “I’m good, Joe.”

  “No choice. You were in there, risking your life. You get the full works. The first round is on me.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.”

  This was typical of Joe Cornell, our captain. The hero of the hour, he was also a stickler for protocol. Who was I to argue with him?

  Like an obedient pup, I made my way back to Marco and sat on the bus, waiting to have my vitals taken.

  “I don’t know how you boys do it,” Marco said, checking my chest.

  “We do it because it’s our job.”

  “Yeah, I get it, but to have the balls to run into a blazing building . . . Man, I’m not sure I could do it.”

  I saw Marco’s brow furrow. It was odd seeing him like this. We’d worked together many times, but not once had he ever remarked on the dangers of what we did. It made him vulnerable.

  “I don’t think about it. People depend on me, and if I don’t step up, then someone dies. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

  Marco nodded and smiled. “We can’t save them all, Ash.”

  “No, but if I can save a few, then I’ll die a happy bastard.”

  We laughed, and the mood lightened.

  “You’re good to go,” he said, holding the stethoscope in his hand.

  I bounced down from the back of the bus and ran a hand through my hair, “Cheers, man. Are you heading to The Grafton later?”

  “Damned right. I need to loosen up,” Marco replied. “I’ve the next two days off, so I’m going to relax in style.”

  In Marco’s case, that meant boozed up and with the flavor of the month.

  “I’ll catch you later,” I replied, and shook his hand.

  I walked back to the truck, going through the motions. It was always like this for me, and it took me a while to digest everything. Under normal circumstances, I would have been euphoric about saving the kid. Things had changed, however, and my perspective was contemplative these days.

  The ride back to the station was filled with jokes, and being the man of the moment left me open to a few digs. I smiled and nodded, thinking about getting home to Jake.

  “You see, the thing with Ash,” Danny continued, “is that he is a giver.”

  The guys erupted in laughter.

  I, on the other hand, rolled my eyes and went with the flow.

  “Giving to those who need a good seeing to,” Danny said, and burst into laughter.

  This was all I needed. Danny was doing everything in his power to help me “move on,” but I wasn’t ready. He knew that. Hell, most of the guys did, too, but he refused to let me sit and wallow in my pity.

  I gave him the look.

  He shook his head and changed the subject. “Will your mom sit a little longer with Jake?”

  “I’m pretty sure she will, but I’m thinking about bailing on drinks and heading home.”

  Danny gave me his infamous wounded look and shook his head. “Not on my watch. You’ve earned those shots.”

  I knew he’d never back down, and drinks it was.

  “Are you sure?” I asked my mom as I walked up Lincoln Avenue. “I promise I won’t be too late.”

  “Oh, honey, stay out as late as you want. I can sleep in the den,” my mother replied.

  I wished she’d beg me to come home, letting me off the hook. My mother wanted me to be happy, and she thought my going out with the boys was the way forward. Little did she know how much I craved being holed up in my apartment with my son.

  “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

  I took a huge breath and opened the door to the bar before stepping inside.

  The Grafton was booming. The guys were in fine form. Drinks were flowing.

  Danny had a line of drinks waiting for me. “My boy!” he shouted. “Bottoms up!” He handed me a drink.

  I shot back the Jameson. “You are a hard man to say no to,” I muttered.

  “That’s because you know I don’t play those games.” Danny smirked and shook his head.

  Danny had been my best friend from day one. I’d known him all my life. The two of us grew up together and been rookies. All the fuck-ups, the crazy nights, the eventual double dates—he’d been there through it all. He served as best man at my wedding, gave the dumbest speech known to man, and he’d been there for me throughout Connie’s illness. His friendship was priceless, and I always found it hard to say no to him. Given everything that had happened, he was the only person who truly got me. He understood the dark places my mind took me to and never once judged me.

  As the drinks continued to flow, the more relaxed I became. The music vibrated through my skull as I drank another shot of whiskey. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Tracey. She looked good, but she always did.

  Tracey saw me and approached. “Hey,” she said.

  I nodded at her. “Tracey.”

  “I didn’t expect seeing you here. It’s not usually your scene.”

  She took a sip of her drink and kept her eyes on mine.

  “Yeah, Danny wasn’t taking no for an answer.” I chortled.

  “I heard about the kid you saved. Well done,” she said, moving in a little too close for comfort. She brushed her leg against mine.

  I shifted my position and smiled, moving back against the bar. “Thanks. I was only doing my job.”

  “Isn’t that all any of us do?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Sure, I guess.” I sipped at my whiskey, hating the fact that I had her attention.

  “So, do you wanna get out of here?”

  She took me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting her to be so up front.

  “What? Like now?” I sounded like a complete novice.

  “Well, sure, right now,” she replied, taking the whiskey glass from my hand and setting in on the bar behind me. Tracey took a hold of my hand. “Come on, you can walk me home.”

  I grabbed my jacket from the barstool.

  Danny smirked at me.

  I walked past him and followed Tracey out of the busy bar.

  Once outside, she linked arms with me and giggled.

&n
bsp; “What’s so funny?”

  She cocked her head to the side, her eyes focused on me. “You’re so uptight, Ash. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  Again, she caught me off guard. I didn’t reply and stared at the ground as we headed up the street.

  “Don’t tell me the cat’s got your tongue.” She nudged my arm with her elbow.

  I looked at her and shrugged. “I don’t do these things often.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  Tracey had been working at the station for about five months. She’d transferred from Detroit and had become a valued member of the team. Sometimes, she was quite outspoken and took me by surprise. From everything I’d heard, she wasn’t shy about being forward and always seemed to get her way.

  “Well, with a kid at home, I’ve other priorities.” I sounded like an ass.

  “That doesn’t mean you have to forget about your needs.”

  I laughed. “And what would they be?”

  “Good, plain, old-fashioned fucking.”

  “Yeah,” I replied, running a hand across the back of my neck.

  Tracey continued her pursuit. “You can’t deny there’s been something pulling us together, Ash.”

  I let out a sigh. She’d been on my tail for a few weeks, but the lust wasn’t mutual. I didn’t want this.

  “I think all that booze has gone to your head.”

  Before I had the chance to end things, Tracey went in for the kill. Taking my hand, she led me down a small entryway and pushed me up against the wall.

  “What are you—?”

  Tracey pressed her lips against mine, and I kissed her back. She slipped her tongue in my mouth, and I could taste the rum. Tracey didn’t stop there. Her hands unzipped the flies on my jeans, touching my cock.

  I couldn’t help the arousal as she released my erection and worked my hardness. All the while, we continued to kiss. The touch of a woman against my flesh once more excited me, yet the broken part of me refused to allow myself the small pleasures in life.