Ash
Page 22
“Get the fuck out of my home,” she roared, pushing at the masked man in front of her.
The man didn’t reply. He lifted his hand and rubbed his chin.
“Settle your ass down, bitch.” His voice was deep and menacing.
She took a step back.
“Now show me where you keep your stash,” he said.
“I don’t know what you’re on about,” she shouted.
He laughed and looked behind him. “Hear that, boys? Little Miss Prissy, here, hasn’t got a clue. Shall we educate her?”
There was a sound of mutual laughter, and the camera zoomed in as more of Andrés’ henchmen appeared. It was like a scene from The Purge. Completely lawless and out of control.
Chairs went flying.
Lights flashed.
Marcy screamed.
In the commotion, the camera was flipped to the side, and I saw firsthand how violent Marcy could be.
She reached for her desk, and I could clearly make out the scissors she was grabbing.
“Ah, ah, aha,” the masked man mocked. “Not so quick, Little Prissy Bitch.” He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. “How about a mouthful of cock? That might tame the shrew.”
“You wouldn’t know how to use your cock,” Marcy replied, laughing.
“Would you like to find out?”
Marcy glared him, her mouth open, and her hand on his crotch.
“Fuck you, bitch. I don’t want you or your skanky ass.” He lifted his hand, curled it into a fist, and slammed it into to her face.
Marcy didn’t even flinch. “Is that it?” she mocked. “Am I supposed to be scared?”
“Damn bitch,” he said. “If it weren’t for the dope that’s stashed in yo hole, I’d pop one in yo ass right now.”
“Give it your best shot,” she replied, and head-butted him.
The brute didn’t budge. His shoulders moved as he chuckled.
“You really don’t want that, sista,” he responded. “But if you’re into kinky shit, who the fuck am I to deny it?”
With that, he slapped her across the face and laughed.
Marcy didn’t do anything. She remained silent as her home was ripped apart. The only time she reacted was when the pictures of Jake and I were taken from her notice board and burned.
She cried, reaching out for the photograph of Jake.
“Oh, we’ve a baller.” One of the men chuckled.
I turned my face away when the first blow came. I looked at Andrés and said, “I thought you said no blood was spilled.”
“Not from my men,” he replied, and laughed.
I realized that Andrés had a deeply imbedded hate for women. There was no line he wasn’t willing to cross.
“I think I need to go home now,” I remarked, not looking at him or Felipe.
“I agree. You will need your beauty sleep.”
Nothing else was said. He had kept his side of the deal. It was now my turn. Nothing tasted as bad in my mouth as the cold, stale flavor of reality.
I sat in the truck with Felipe by my side, observing the cars coming and going from the lot. It had been a while since I was last in this part of town and it felt wrong. I had made peace with my decision. The consequences would be dear, but I had no choice. Andrés knew where I lived. He could tie me to anything, and this was the price I had to pay.
“And you’re here to babysit me?” I asked.
“Just making sure the job’s done,” he replied, and grinned.
“Have you been casing the place?”
He chuckled and reached for his phone. “What do you think, Ash? You know Andrés doesn’t fuck about when it comes to his business. Juan’s punk ass needs to be taught a lesson.”
I took a deep breath and glanced back at the warehouse. The sun was setting fast. Every second that passed put me closer to what I was about to do, and the more surreal the situation became.
“You know what’s funny?” Felipe asked.
I stared at him. “What?”
“You, a bonafide fireman, breaking the law,” he said in a tone of complete disrespect and sniggered.
“I find nothing remotely amusing about it, but I accept that this is a part of the deal,” I replied, and swallowed a hard lump.
“Whatever way you look at it, this job will be done, and you will have no comeback. Not unless you screw up.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Good.” He smiled. “At least we’re both on the same page.”
From that point on, I didn’t talk. I cleared my mind, like I did when I went into a burning structure or tended a car wreck, and focused on the task. I refused to give Felipe anymore of my oxygen, because it was a losing battle when it came to him. He was from a different world, where moral and compassion came so far down the food chain, it made you wonder if there was any kind of goodness in his soul.
After an hour of waiting, he turned to me and winked. “It’s time to give Juan a night to remember.”
I grabbed my bag from the back of the truck and avoided looking at Felipe. It was bad enough that he was here, watching my every move, but to acknowledge his superior role . . . well, that wasn’t something I could do.
“How long will this take?”
“As long as it takes to get the job done,” I replied, and pulled the hood of my jacket over my head.
I walked away from the vehicle and took a deep breath, putting on a pair of black gloves. I’d had several dreams over the past week, all haunting me, a forewarning of the dangers of what I was doing. I ignored the trepidation I felt within me and refused to think of how the aftermath would destroy me. At that precise moment, I became the man I never wanted to be.
Making sure I wasn’t seen, I crept around to the side door of the warehouse. I slipped a hand into my bag and took out my small box of tricks, grabbing a single paperclip. I’d learned this skill from my gang days. I broke the clip in two, bending each piece and inserting them inside the lock. I applied pressure, giving it enough torque to manipulate the pins. I worked my way down from pin to pin, cupping each one with the tip of the pick and lifted gently. The familiar pressure was released, and the lock sprung open.
I smiled, pleased with my moment of success. A swarming sensation made its presence known in my stomach.
Once inside, I closed the door behind me. Near the doorway and past the plastic sheeting, hundreds of plants appeared to glow in the well-lit and insulated nursery. The six-hundred-watt hydroponic lamps suspended from a low wooden ceiling shone bright. I shielded my eyes for a second to get used to the light.
This cannabis factory was the very thing stepping on Andrés’ toes. I’d known the man behind that false smile. He wouldn’t let Juan get away with selling his goods on the other side of town.
I cleared my throat, looked around the nursery, and saw exactly what I needed. In my line of business, I made the decision not to use an accelerant. This had to look like an accident, especially to the authorities.
I rushed over to the trashcan piled high with cardboard and paper. I unloaded it, setting the cardboard on the table between the plant pots. I used the cannabis leaves to support the paper until it was high enough. I maneuvered one of the lamps, allowing its light to penetrate the paper. The surface was now combustible. I stepped back and waited for it to ignite.
After a few minutes, the paper smoldered. I took several steps back, watching the paper burst into flames. Within seconds, the cardboard, and whatever else lay in the trashcan caught fire. It was time for me to exit the building.
I could see Felipe’s face as I raced back to the truck.
He glared at me, his brow furrowed.
I jumped in and exhaled.
“Where the fuck’s the flames?” he bellowed.
“Just wait,” I muttered, and stared at the warehouse.
“Just wait until Andrés hears about this. He will fuck you up good.”
I raised a
hand. “Just fucking wait.”
He muttered something under his breath.
I was too invested in the smoke billowing from the building to listen. I anticipated the explosion, wanting Felipe to stop his stupid tantrum and garner a little patience.
“When I report this fuck up back to Andrés, you can kiss your perfect little life goodbye,” he said, dialing a number on his phone.
I turned and slapped the phone from his hand. “Trust me, okay? Just watch the fucking building.”
His mouth parted. The blast got his attention. His eyes grew wide, and he smiled.
I watched the flames engulf the building.
Felipe let out a raucous laugh and patted my back. “I always knew you had it in you.”
What a complete load of shit, I thought, and nodded without saying a word. When it came to Felipe and his kind, there was no way of talking to stupid.
I wanted nothing more than to get home and put this part of my life behind me. When I walked in through the door, I made my way to the living room and sat in the darkness of my apartment, staring down at my trembling hands. I despised myself for what I’d done. There were many things in my life that I regretted. Although I had accepted my role in the fire, I would hate myself for the rest of my life. I’d gone against the grain and diminished my own morals, all to rid myself of a woman intent on destroying me.
“God, please forgive me,” I whispered, feeling the dreaded sense of shame wash over me. How could I look myself in the mirror again without recrimination?
Sitting back, I closed my eyes. Connie’s pale face flashed in my mind. Not now, I thought, but it was too late. I was thrown headfirst back to the day that would define the rest of my life.
We’d been preparing for weeks, but Connie held on. She had a spirit that was so strong in love, it made every second she was with us a blessing. For a while, I went on autopilot, tending to her meds, making sure she ate something, even if it was soup.
Little Jake was completely oblivious to his mother’s illness. He kept the smile burning bright on her face, and because of that, it lessened the ache in my heart.
As things stood, time wasn’t our friend, and I could feel her slipping away. I hurt in places I never knew possible. The aguish of watching my strong, beautiful, and sexy wife die tore me to pieces every time I saw her frail hand reach out to me.
“Ash,” she whispered as I refilled a glass with water.
I sat down on the side of the bed and took her hand in mine. “Yes,” I said, choking back the pain.
“I’m so . . . tired.”
Jake sat on the floor, playing with his building blocks. He gazed up at me and smiled.
I returned my eyes to Connie and gently touched her cheek. “Then sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She smiled that same sweet, gorgeous smile of hers that won me over when we were sixteen years old.
I was beyond angry. I hated God for what he was putting her through.
Guilt consumed me. I blamed him for something that was out of his control, something I knew I shouldn’t do.
I had never been a man of prayer, but somehow, I found that even talking to God brought me a sense of comfort. I had to believe that when the time came, Connie would be relieved of all her turmoil and would live eternally in peace. That had to count for something.
I held onto her hand, caressing the back of it. Her skin—so soft, so perfect, so young—it was hard to comprehend the poison that ran through her veins.
“Daddy,” Jake said.
I looked at him, lost in thought. “What is it, buddy?”
“I want Mommy,” he said, and walked over to the bed.
I gazed at Connie. Her face tilted to the right as she gently snored. I lifted Jake into my arms.
He looked down at her. “Mommy sleeping,” he remarked.
“Yup, she sure is.” I tried my best not to cry. “Do you want to sleep with Mommy?”
He nodded and yawned.
I gave him a cuddle and set him down beside his mother. It took every inch of my might not to crumble as I stood staring down at the two loves of my life.
My mom walked in and touched my arm. “Why don’t you try and get some rest, honey?” she whispered.
I turned my head, meeting her gaze. I couldn’t control it a moment longer. The tears burst from their dam, and I wept silently on my mother’s shoulder.
She gently rubbed my back and held onto me tightly.
I’d succumbed to the emotional rollercoaster, and was overcome with guilt and shame for allowing myself to be so selfish. I composed myself and wiped my face.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “It’s just so hard.”
“Sweetheart, why would you even think of apologizing? You have every right to feel this pain.” She cupped my face in her hands and drew my head down, kissing my forehead.
“I can’t leave her. I can’t miss a moment.” I watched Connie’s chest rise as she took deep breaths in her sleep. “I can’t risk not being here.”
My mother didn’t have to say anything. She understood.
I walked around to the other side of the bed and got in beside her. I pulled Connie into my arms, needing to feel her close to me, holding onto her, afraid to let her go.
For the last forty-eight hours, she’d begun to fade. Her beautiful spirit diminished slowly.
Everyone who ever loved her spent those last moments with her.
I sat on the bed, her head gently resting on my chest, her warm hand on mine.
“I don’t know how to die, Ash,” she said. “Please tell me I’ll know when the time comes.”
I didn’t know how to answer her, so I kissed her head and said, “Don’t be afraid, honey. I’ll be here with you until the very end. I won’t leave your side.”
Jake sat at the foot of the bed, holding his Spider-Man figurine in his hands.
“Spidey will help you, Mommy,” he said, and made his little sound effects.
I blinked my tears away.
Connie chuckled. “Jake.” She struggled to speak. “Come kiss me.”
Jake crept along her legs until he nestled his face against hers. He pouted his lips and kissed his mother.
Connie could barely lift her hand, so I helped her rest it against his back.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you,” Jake replied, hugging her.
In the early hours of the first of May, Connie fell into a deep sleep and took her last breath. She had been more loved than anyone I’d ever known. She had been the very person to save me, and was now finally at rest. Free from pain, free from the illness that robbed her of her life.
I sat on the bed, holding her hand in mine.
Her head leaned to the side. She was pale and the warmth had left her body.
I didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or shout. I remained still. Forever changed. It dawned on me that all our struggles, all the pain, all the joy, was for a reason. She was finally reborn to an everlasting life without any of her earthly pain.
“Goodbye, baby,” I whispered, kissing the back of her hand, afraid of letting go.
Nevertheless, I had Jake. He needed my strength, and if anyone could mend my broken heart, it was our boy.
Holding my face in my hands, I looked up when the doorbell chimed. I exhaled and got up from the chair, walking to the door. I was relieved to see Sophia standing there, looking gorgeous, and holding a bottle of whiskey in her hand.
“I’ve a feeling you might need this,” she said as I let her in.
A part of me wanted to pull her into my arms and let my demons loose, but I refused myself the release. I had to suffer my penance in silence.
“You look terrible. What’s wrong? Has something happened?” Her warm eyes met mine.
I shook my head. “I’m fine. Honestly, but thanks for this.” I took the bottle from her. “I shall certainly need it.”
She follo
wed me into the living room and looked around.
“Take a seat,” I said.
“Why are you in the dark?”
I shook my head. “Switch the light on, if you want.”
“Ash, what’s going on?”
“Does there have to be a reason for a man wanting to sit in the dark?” I snapped, and instantly regretted my tone.
“Listen, you asked me to come here, okay? So don’t try to be a wiseass with me, or I’ll walk away right now and leave you to wallow in whatever is going on with you.”
I held my head in shame. I was behaving like a complete prick.
“I’m sorry. It’s just been a tough day.”
“Then, talk to me,” she replied, and took my hand in hers.
“How about I pour us a glass each and we can talk.” I tried to smile.
She nodded and let go of my hand, turning toward the small table next to the sofa and switching on the lamp.
I went into the kitchen, grabbed two glasses, and caught my reflection in the window. I turned away in complete disgust.
As I sat down beside her, I filled the glasses and handed one to her.
“So, tell me,” she insisted.
“I’ve been thinking, and when I think, I get fucked up.”
“You’re lying to me.”
I looked at her. “How do you mean?”
“I may not know you like everyone else, but I know you well enough to notice a lie or two,” she said.
“I’m not lying. I revisited the past when I should have left it well alone.” I wasn’t being untruthful.
“Hmm. You’re a strange one, Ash.”
I chuckled. “You wouldn’t be the first one to say that to me.”
“And I suspect I won’t be the last.” She nudged my arm before taking a sip of the liquor.
“So, you’re leaving next week,” I remarked, changing the subject.
“Yes.” She sighed and rested her head against my shoulder. “I expect it will be hard.”
My stomach spun in a knot as I listened to her. I was being selfish, but I didn’t want her to go. She was like a lifeline for me, and I was afraid of the dark, slippery slope waiting for me once she was gone. It was stupid, and a little irrational, considering our relationship was so new. Sophia’s presence renewed me. She was my salvation after all the pain.