With a sweet sleepy smile, Drew stretched out and snuggled into the fluffy pillows. “I like that Southern accent.” He yawned and patted the bed. “Come on and join me. You need to rest too, considering you did all the work.”
Tempted as he was, Ash knew he needed to shower. He was sticky, sweaty, and needed to be clean. And clear his head about what had happened.
“I’ll be a few minutes.” Resisting the urge to kiss him, Ash turned on his heel and left for the bathroom. Once inside he stripped off his shirt, turned the shower on steamy hot and stepped in. With his eyes closed, he stood under the heated spill of water, letting it pummel his face and roll off his chest. He lathered himself up to wash away the sticky remnants of his and Drew’s come.
Without any warning, Drew opened the fogged shower door. “I thought I’d come and join you.”
He jumped, narrowly missing hitting his head on the shower fixture. “Fuck, Drew. Why couldn’t you wait in the goddamn bedroom?” The pounding water beat down over his head and he held his arms behind his back. His gaze remained rooted to the shower floor, and he watched the rivulets of water swirl down into the drain.
He had no idea how long he stood there, until he noticed the water had stopped and Drew stood next to him, his dry warmth pressed up against his wet, shaking flesh.
“Ash,” Drew whispered, kissing his cheek. “Come out now. You’re clean. Let’s dry you off.”
Like a child, he allowed himself to be walked out of the shower, wrapped up in a towel, and patted dry. After leading Ash back to the bedroom, Drew tugged him into bed and together they lay down on the rumpled sheets, holding one another. Ash knew Drew expected an explanation, but he couldn’t fathom exposing his tarnished insides to another person, not even Drew, the one person he’d been more intimate with than anyone. He’d die before admitting it, but Ash feared if he told Drew, he’d lose him.
Several moments passed and Ash sensed Drew’s unease; he shifted on the bed and cleared his throat several times, obviously waiting for Ash to ask what was wrong. When it became apparent he had no intention of speaking, Drew spoke against his shoulder. “Whenever you want to talk to me, I’m here for you. But like you said earlier, make no mistake. You will talk to me, Asher Davis.”
Fucking hell. Tired of it all, of everything in his whole fucked-up miserable life, he turned from Drew’s arms, sat up and snarled back at him. “You wanna talk? Well, all right, let’s talk. What do you wanna know?” He pointed to the white ridged scar on his wrist, a smile twisting his lips. “You want to know about the first time I tried to kill myself, or the last time I cut myself for fun?” he asked, pointing to a fresh new gash.
“Where do you wanna start?”
Chapter Fourteen
Drew couldn’t take his eyes off Ash’s arms. Up and down, from wrist to elbow, scars riddled his skin. Many were older, thin white lines, but several thick ugly twists of healed, ridged flesh told a story of Ash’s deeply-rooted pain. With a practiced eye, Drew knew from their severity some nerve damage existed that could never be repaired.
What troubled him more were the new ones, reddened and fresh, which told him this behavior remained an ongoing problem for Ash. What demons did this beautiful, tortured man battle, even now, that caused him to maim himself like that? His grandmother’s sixth sense proved correct once again; she had been right to be afraid.
Whatever drove Ash to cut himself, it somehow had to relate to Ash’s past, the past he refused to talk about no matter how hard people pushed him. Drew, Peter, even Drew’s grandmother couldn’t force Ash to reveal the horrors that gnawed at his soul. With a sinking realization in his heart, Drew recognized this night should never have happened. It wasn’t that he regretted it. On the contrary, he’d been willing to go much further, if all had gone well.
Forcing Ash into a corner, pushing him to reveal long-kept secrets wouldn’t help either one of them. But neither was pretending all was well and they could continue on as if nothing had happened. While Drew’s heart broke for Ash, the man needed professional help.
“I’m not asking you why or to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Drew kept his tone non-confrontational. “I’d hope that as a friend, you’d feel comfortable enough with me to maybe talk things out. Sometimes that helps.”
Shooting him a strange look, Ash scrambled out of the bed and, after rummaging around in his dresser, pulled out a thin sweatshirt and slipped it on. Once covered, Ash visibly relaxed. “Nothing will help. But thanks for the offer.”
Drew wanted to deck him. “Thanks for the offer? What am I, a salesman? For Christ’s sake, Ash, I’m sitting here naked in your bed, and you’re treating me as if I’m a fucking stranger.” Considering how this night had degenerated, he climbed out of bed as well and got dressed again. This time he didn’t anticipate Ash stopping him.
Ash shrugged. “There’s nothing to discuss. You got what you wanted and so did I, so let’s say good night.”
It was as if he sat at a board meeting. Hello, good-bye, thanks for coming. Literally.
“How do you know what I wanted? You never gave it a chance. For God’s sake I was willing to…” He hesitated, unsure if he could say it. But when Ash sucked his cock, the balance of Drew’s whole world shifted and he didn’t know if he could ever go back to the way he was before.
“To what, Drew? Let me fuck you to see what it’s like? We still could, you know.”
Stung, Drew hoped this was a defense mechanism Ash used to push people away and not Ash’s actual feelings.
“Why are you acting like such a bastard? I understand you’ve been hurt.”
Like a lion, Ash pounced on him, pushing him back onto the bed. “You understand? You think you understand? Why, because you’re lonely and took a walk on the wild side tonight with me? You know nothing about me or my life, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”
Caught by surprise, Drew lost all power to move once those glittering icy eyes held him. “I’m your friend, if nothing else, and that’s what friends do, they help one another.”
“I don’t need friends, or a lover, or anyone trying to make me part of a family. I was fine before I met you, and I’ll be fine when you’re gone.”
Drew shook his head in disbelief. “You think you’re fine? Look at yourself. You’re a goddamn mess. One moment you’re decent, kind, and caring—the next you’re a cruel, hurtful bastard. You run from everything and everyone you think might get close to you.”
“Isn’t this where we started tonight?” Ash’s strained drawl didn’t fool Drew now. As if he were a balloon, Ash deflated, his shoulders slumping, and his head hung down.
“Yes, I remember now. You told me I wasn’t worth it. And you know something; you’re right. I’m not worth it. So go home, Doc, find a nice girl to fuck, marry and have babies with. Leave me alone.” This time he walked out of the room, and Drew followed.
Ash returned to where he must have been seated before Drew showed up tonight. The club chair stood by the dark, cold fireplace, the bottle of vodka and ice bucket resting like sentinels on the small table, awaiting his inevitable return. In his heart, Drew knew this was where Ash spent most of his time when he was at home. In that chair, with a bottle, staring off into nothingness. What ghosts did he see as he sat all alone, deep into the night? Was it shadows of his past come to haunt him in the present? The vision of those twisting, ugly scars remained imprinted in his mind’s eye, and Drew winced in sympathetic pain.
“Ash, I said I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I spoke out of anger.”
The ice must’ve melted, as Ash peered into the bucket, shook his head, then sloshed some vodka in his glass and, with a practiced flip of his wrist, drank it off in two gulps. He poured another and repeated the action. Only then did he answer. “No, you merely spoke the truth, what I was always told.” He poured another glass and Drew watched in amazement as he drank that down as well. In the span of minutes, he’d gone through three full tumblers of straight vodka like the
y were water.
“I’m not worth it. Jus’ a poor kid with no family.” He stood and began wandering around the spacious room, then tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. Flinging his arm out, he spun around. “But I showed them all, didn’t I, Mr. Frank? You said I was smart and I could make it.”
His heart breaking for this tortured man, Drew approached him with care. No way could he’d leave him alone tonight in his fragile condition. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to Ash.
“Why don’t you lie down?” Drew placed his hand on Ash’s shoulder. “I’ll help you back into the bedroom.”
Having stopped spinning, Ash stood swaying in the middle of the room, looking decidedly pale and ill. “I don’ feel so good.” He squinted into his empty glass. “Wha’ happened to my drink?”
He plucked the glass out of Ash’s hand. “No more drinks for you, my man. You need to lie down and go to bed.”
“With you?”
The hopeful note in Ash’s voice struck a chord deep within Drew’s heart. How could he walk away? After his revelations tonight, Drew knew he couldn’t leave. It had nothing to do with the sex, although his face warmed remembering the feel of Ash’s mouth on his cock. Knowing how hard Ash worked at the center, how dedicated he was to those kids, a beautiful shell existed under the glossy exterior Ash had built up to shield and deflect anything that might hurt him.
Now wasn’t the time to think about that. He slid his arm around Ash’s shoulders and pulled him close. It was a little difficult, as Ash had several inches and well over twenty pounds on him, but after a few stumbles, he managed to push Ash back down the hallway and rather indelicately dump him into his bed. Drew turned on a night table lamp, casting a low glow over the room.
“Ow.” Ash rolled onto his back, his bleary face turned sideways as he mumbled into the pillows. “My head’s spinning.” Quicker than Drew thought possible considering the man’s drunken state, Ash grabbed Drew’s T-shirt and pulled him down on top of his hard body.
“Oof.” He landed with his pelvis nestling in perfectly with Ash’s. As expected, Ash was most definitely aroused, but Drew had already made up his mind not to engage in any more sexual games with Ash until they had a chance to clear the air.
“Hey, none of that. You’re drunk, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
A heavy hand clamped around his waist, and Ash’s lips found his neck. “I’m usually drunk when I fuck somebody, so I think it’s a great idea.”
Dismay, like an icy bucket of water cleared Drew’s mind. His erection wilted and with surprising strength, he wrenched away from Ash’s drunken nuzzling and stood up, spitting in anger.
“I’m not ‘somebody.’ I’m not some piece of ass you picked up at a bar to screw and forget. I’m your friend, goddamn you. Friends are different.” Christ, he almost let this guy…it was too much to imagine. Almost without thinking, he stuck his face in Ash’s. “I’m different, or at least I thought I was.”
Ash merely stared back, those silvery eyes unblinking.
“Are you telling me I’m no different than that waiter who blew you in the hallway, the same as all those anonymous men you’ve fucked?”
Ash opened his mouth, then closed it, bowing his head. “The fact you’re even here, in my home and in my bed, and we’re having this conversation shows how different you are.” He fell back onto the pillows. “Drew, what the hell do you want from me?”
Good question. He hadn’t a clue. As a friend, he would help any of the people dearest to him, no questions asked. But Ash had become more than a friend. What had happened between them tonight carved a special place in Drew’s heart, even if they never took it further. Drew hurt for Ash, felt his pain. The pit of ugliness Ash had lived in prior to his arrival in New York must have been so deep and black it was a miracle he’d been able to climb up out of it.
“I want you to talk to me.” With a gentle hand, he stroked Ash’s sweating face. “Please tell me about it. Maybe I could help you.”
Ash’s laugh rang bitter. “Help me? You’re nice, Drew. Good and pure at heart. You see the best in people and always think of how to help them.” He rolled onto his side, presenting Drew with his broad back. “It’s impossible for someone like you, who grew up normal, loved and sheltered by a family, to understand what can happen to the throwaway children left behind. The ones no one wanted.”
Drew sat on the bed, his weight tipping the mattress, forcing Ash to slide closer to him. The warmth of his large body tempted Drew to reach out to hold and comfort him, but he didn’t want to break the spell of Ash revealing even the smallest piece of himself. Something, anything, though, would be helpful in unraveling the mystery of this man. “Talk to me.”
Ash’s dark head burrowed farther into the pillows. “I can’t drag you into the mess of my life. As it is right now, you know more about me than anyone else. You don’t understand how hard I’ve worked to put it behind me, but I can’t. It’s like a horrendous jack-in-the-box that keeps springing up when I least expect it, to scare the shit out of me and drag me back down.”
“That’s why you relate so well to those kids at the clinic, right?” He took a deep breath. “To Stevie? You know what he’s going through, don’t you, because something similar happened to you. Am I right?”
At Ash’s quick nod, Drew instinctively touched his shoulder in sympathy, but Ash flinched away. “We were all thrown in together. The kids no one wanted. No family who cared whether we lived or died, but we had each other, you know? Years we spent waiting for someone to help us. And they looked up to me ’cause I was older, but I couldn’t help myself; how could I help them?”
Drew held his breath, knowing Ash had withdrawn inside himself once again, reliving his youth.
Ash flipped over to lie on his back, eyes flat and blank, his handsome face ravaged by inner torment. “We thought he cared at first, our foster father. He’d buy us candy and take us to ball games and the circus. Our foster mom was timid, churchgoing, and clueless.” He hugged the pillow to his chest. “Later on we found out he’d hit her if she didn’t do what he said, when he said it. Dinner on the table and beer in his hand when he walked in the door. If not…” Ash punched the pillow. “But never where anyone could see. Or bad enough so she’d hafta go to the doctor. She’d lie for him anyway. He was a cop, a good ol’ boy. Who’d they believe, him or us?”
It was worse than Drew had imagined. These were the stories he’d only heard about, the ones he saw on the television that made him start the clinic in the first place.
Ash let go now, the words spilling from him like water freed from a dam. “When he moved on to us boys, I let him do whatever he wanted to me, ’cause they were littler, you know? I tried to protect them from him.” A lone tear trickled down his cheek. “I thought when I left they’d come with me, but they were too afraid to leave.”
“Who were they, Ash?” Drew covered Ash’s hand, shocked at the cool, clammy feel of his skin.
“The closest thing I’ve ever had to brothers. But I abandoned them, left them with him.” Ash’s eyes, huge, wounded, and now shiny with tears, captured Drew and pulled him into their gray depths.
“I didn’t want to leave, but I knew I’d end up dead if I stayed. I never thought they wouldn’t come with me, but at the last minute Luke changed his mind and Brandon was too young. I shoulda stayed.”
“You don’t know. Maybe it worked out for them. Maybe he left them alone.” Drew stroked his hand, trying to soothe his agitation.
“No, no, I know something terrible happened.” Ash sat up, pale and trembling. “You don’ understand.” He put a hand to his mouth. “I’m gonna be sick.”
Stumbling out of the bed, he rushed to the bathroom. Drew followed him silently, watching as he retched in the toilet. He slid down next to Ash and put his arm around his shoulders, holding him close, letting the man lean against him. He smoothed back the sweat-drenched hair and murmured quiet, nothing words of comfort into As
h’s ear until he finished. Without saying a word, he rinsed out a hand towel in cold water and placed it on the back of Ash’s neck.
A moan broke free from Ash. “Drew, why are you still here?”
“Because you’re my friend. And I don’t abandon my friends when they need me.” Without giving it a second thought, he brushed the hair off Ash’s face and kissed his cheek. Ash grew still, and Drew immediately sensed his withdrawal.
“Uh, I think I need to rinse my mouth and brush my teeth.” Although Ash stood without help, Drew noticed he still needed to brace his hands against the sink to steady himself. Their eyes met in the mirror. “I can take care of myself.”
Shut down by Ash’s aloof and cold behavior, Drew nodded and returned to sit on the bed. After waiting several moments, a horrified thought crossed his mind. Was Ash hurting himself in the bathroom? Visions of the man bleeding had him up and off the bed, halfway across the room, when Ash opened the bathroom door, wrapped in a robe.
“Are you all right?” His gaze flickered to Ash’s arms. “I, was, uh getting a little worried.”
Ash’s hands tugged at the sleeves of his robe; a gesture Drew now knew to be defensive, from a long-standing habit. “About what? Thinking I was doing something to myself in the bathroom?”
The cruel tinge to his words hit Drew like a slap, but knowing Ash better now, he understood. It was Ash’s way of keeping him at arm’s length so he wouldn’t dig deeper into the past and get closer. Drew, however, had an infinite level of patience. Ash could take as long as he wanted, but now that he told his story, Drew would find a way to help him.
“Are you back to being that asshole from when we first met? Is that how you think you’re going to push me away? Maybe Peter’s afraid to step on your toes, but I’m not.” Drew tipped his head back a little to stare into Ash’s eyes. For a moment he thought he saw a flicker of hope in those clear, silvery depths before the shutters came down, blanking out any expression.
A Walk Through Fire Page 13
