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Writer's pictureGina A. Jones

Saving Ash (book #2) Chapter Twenty-five


Cinder



It’s silent as we drive across the city. Ash is holding my hand like he’s afraid to let go. He’s so different ever since he came home. Maybe now that he has told me his dark secrets, he’s able to go on. He has made love to me. Kissed me with tenderness. Begged me to love him. Has said he loves me.

            But why can’t I say it back to him?

            It’s the fear. Fear that all this is just a repercussion of his revelation to me. And once he has a handle on it, I’ll be out the door. Something he no longer needs.

            “You’re quiet over there. Is something wrong, Cinder?”

            Hell yeah, lots of stuff is wrong.

            “I was just thinking how brave you were to tell me the truth. It had to be hard for you.”

            He looks over at me and squeezes my hand. His eyes show concern and…mercy…? It’s hard to tell in the darkness. The car is dark and only the city lights illuminate the space.

            “It was hard to relive it. I’ve locked some parts of it away.”

            “Christopher?”

            He squeezes his eyes shut for a second and then back to the road. “Yes. As much as I want to forget…everything, I can’t let myself forget him.”

            “How does your father handle it? I mean, he still believes Christopher was his son.”

            “He still pays investigators to solve the case. He will never let it go cold. That’s the reason he has the memorial each year. He hopes someday, whoever murdered them will have the balls to show up at the cemetery.”

            “And has anyone ever showed up?”

            “Once there was a woman who was walking among the headstones. He tried to get information on her, but it led to nowhere.”

            “What was she doing there?”

            “She told the authorities she was researching her genealogy, looking up family plots.”

            “And was she?”

            He shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t really know. I guess people do those things. They had to let her go. There was nothing to go on.”

            “Did your father talk to her?”

            “No, he had his people do that. Advice of his lawyer.”

            “I see. Well, at least he hasn’t given up hope of ever finding out who…murdered them.”

            “No, he hasn’t. I’ll give him that,” he says, letting go of my hand and turning into a parking lot. He keeps driving, and I see we are now at a marina. I can see the harbor shining from the city lights.

            “What’s this?”

            “Our date. I thought it’d be nice to be alone tonight out on the bay. My yacht is waiting for us. Dinner has also been prepared.”

            Yacht. Of course, a yacht. Why am I so surprised?

            “Wow, that sounds wonderful,” I say, my words almost speechless.

            Ash helps me out of the car, and we walk arm in arm down to the harbor where all the boats are floating in slips. The moon is bright, and I just know it’s going to be a beautiful night.

            He walks us to a large boat—yacht, where a small crew are waiting for us to board. Well, I guess we won’t be all alone.

            “Mr. Sinclair, it’s nice to see you. It’s going to be a beautiful night. The Butterfly of the Sea has been cleared with the Coastguard. Are you still planning to stay the night out at sea?”

            “Yes. Thank you, Captain,” Ash says, greeting the man who obviously will be piloting the boat.

            Staying the night out on the ocean?

            “Come aboard. Everything is ready for your entertainment.”

            “Shall we?” Ash asks, holding his elbow up for me to take.

            Who is this man?

            We walk down the boardwalk and onto the ship. I say ship because this is way bigger than a boat. I’m totally speechless. In shock.

            He takes my hand and leads me inside where I’m once again, speechless. To me, it might as well be the Titanic. Staircases and furniture to die for. Once we’re inside, it doesn’t feel like a boat. More like a grand hotel.

            “Good evening, Mr. Sinclair. Miss,” a lady says to us.

            “Good evening, Miss. Ferguson.”

            “Dinner is all prepared if you are ready to dine now.”

            “Great. I think we’ll start with a bottle of wine,” Ash says.

            I get to have alcohol again. Hell yeah!

            “Yes, Mr. Sinclair. Do you have a preference?”

            “Cabernet.”

            “Yes, Mr. Sinclair,” she says and leaves the area.

            Ash grabs my hand and leads me up a small flight of stairs where we are now at the top of the yacht. Its’s a dining room covered in glass windows giving us the view of the water. I see the ribbon of light reflecting off the moon. It’s every bit like being outside while being inside. I know my mouth is hanging open.

             A table is prepared with a white cloth and silver domes. I have no idea what is inside but I know it will be something I’ve never had and will love.

            Pinch me.

            I then notice the beautiful music that is softly playing.

            “Ash, this is all so very beautiful. This is your boat?”

            “Yes. It was a gift from my father when I graduated college.”

            “A…gift?”

            “You must understand. Father’s gifts are more of a peace offering. He’s never been good with giving me his time. But money…he’s good at throwing at me.”

            He can throw some my way.

            Miss Ferguson appears with a bottle of wine. She then pours two glasses and sets the bottle down on the table. “Enjoy, Mr. Sinclair, Miss,” she says and then disappears.

            “Come, lets enjoy a glass of wine as we cast out to sea,” he says.

            I feel like a princess as he takes my hand and leads me over to the table. He picks up the poured wines and hands one to me.

            “Tonight, I will allow you to have wine. We will be out on open waters,” he says with a wink, and it’s not normal. I take the glass, and he makes a toast. “May a new light overcast the darkness.”

            We clink glasses and take the first sip. It’s a bit strong, and I try not to cough. I suppose he has no beer or whiskey and coke on the boat.

            He turns us so we can watch as the boat is cast out into the harbor and heading to open waters. It’s so beautiful and peaceful. I take another sip and feel my inside beginning to warm up. I feel all warm and cozy standing next to Ash. His arm comes around me and holds me close. I let my head lay on his chest. He’s come so far. So far from that horrible place in Providence. Before I wasn’t allowed to lay my head on his chest.

            He will earn my love.

            The city lights begin to fade, and the night becomes darker, as I cast my eyes up to the moon. It’s bright and it makes me think of my sister. I don’t know why, perhaps she may be looking at it too, falling asleep in a beautiful bedroom, looking up at the stars.

            “You look a million miles away, Cinder. May I ask what’s on your mind?”

            Ash’s words bring me back from my thoughts. “My sister.”

            “You…you have a sister?”

            “I do. But she probably knows nothing about me. She was adopted as a baby when I was in foster care.”

            “Those pictures in your sketch pad…is that her?”

            “It is. I don’t have a clue what she really looks like. So, I draw a younger version of myself.”

            “Why didn’t they adopt you?”

            “I didn’t fit the requirements—newborn baby. Plus, they probably thought I was damaged goods.”

            “Don’t say that, Cinder. I’m damaged goods. Not you.”

            I turn to look up at him. His eyes look glassy. Could there be tears behind them?

            “They probably knew nothing about me. Plus, my birth mother always promised to come for me once her business was all set up.”

            “Business?”

            “She moved to Colorado to start a pot farm. That’s my mother, the great entrepreneur,” I say with a small laugh.

            “Have you ever tried to reach out and find her…your sister?”

            “Can’t. Closed adoption. But anyway, I’m happy she found a good family. Maybe when she’s eighteen, I’ll see what I can do. Twenty-three and me? Who knows.”

            “How old is she now?”

            “She’d be about eight, if my math and years in different foster homes add up.”

            He stares at me pensively, like he’s lost in thought.

            “So, we’ve both lost someone we loved,” he finally says.

            “Well, that’s true. I only wish the outcome of…of your son turned out differently,” I say and instantly regret it.

            “Yes, me too. Shall we eat?” he asks.

            I look up and smile into his eyes. “Yes.”

            As he walks us back to the table that has been beautifully set for our dining pleasure, I try and let all thoughts of Pippa go. Christopher, not so much.

            Then other things begin knocking on my brain.

            Did he bring other women here?

            Did he and Pippa do this? Pippa!

            There she is again. I’m becoming more obsessed with her ghost than Ash is. But I’m here now, and I only hope we both come out on the other side…together.

            Ash pulls out my chair, and I take a seat. He gently helps me scoot the chair in before taking his place on the other side. I watch him take his seat, and smile at me across the table. I can’t help but feel…love for him. How long can I go without telling him?

            “Please, lift your lid and let’s enjoy our dinner,” he says.

            I remove the lid as steam rises, filling my nostrils with the scent of steamed vegetables and a savory beef dish I have no idea what it’s called.

            “This looks and smells amazing,” I say.

            “It’s prime rib with in season vegetables, assorted winter squashes,” Ash says, taking his fork.

            “Prime rib, so that’s…steak?”

            He chuckles a little. I love his laugh. “Yes, Cinder. It’s a form of steak. I thought we’d go traditional tonight. Please enjoy it, I don’t have beef served too often.”

            “I will, thank you.”

            We eat our meal as the stars become brighter in the dark sky. The subtle music plays in the background, reminding me that things can be beautiful in a dark world.

            Every so often, Ash smiles over at me, and I wonder what is going through his mind. Me? Christopher? Pippa?

            Stop it. Tonight is our night.

            “Is something wrong, Cinder?”

            “What do you mean?” I ask, hoping it doesn’t show on my face. But it must.

            “You shuddered. Are you cold? Seasick?”

            “No. I…I just can’t believe I’m here with you. I’ve never experienced something this beautiful.”

            “That’s what I love about you, Cinder. Your simple demureness. Your love for simple pleasures.”

            “I would call this a step above simple,” I say, circling my finger around the place.

            “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s been some time since I’ve taken the boat out.”

            “Ahh, this is more than a boat,” I say, a soft laugh under my breath. Then a frown suddenly comes to my face. The name of the boat. The Butterfly of the Sea.

            “What’s the matter?” I hear Ash ask in the distance, even though he’s sitting across from me.

            “Butterflies. Butterflies everywhere. They’re for her…aren’t they?” My voice is low and defensive.

            “They were…once.”

            “Once? But they are everywhere. The art on the walls in the penthouse bedroom. The lace canopy above the bed I sleep in. The song you were playing on the piano. And here, the name of your boat. Why? Why are you keeping her alive?”

            He says nothing but stares right at me. I’m so angry and don’t care that I am ruining this night. She has to go.

            “Answer me, Ash. Why? Did she love butterflies or something?” I yell across the table.

            “Yes. She liked the song. I would play it for her,” he says, almost robotic.

            “She liked it!? Who the fuck cares what she liked. She’s dead, Ash. She’s fucking dead. She abused you. She controlled you. Why are you still letting her?”

            “I’m trying, Cinder. Why are you still bringing her up?”

            I push the chair out and walk over to the windows. Why am I so angry? He’s right. I am the one bringing her up. But the damn butterflies.

            I hear Ash coming over. I can feel him behind me. I see his reflection in the glass. I can see him lifting his arm and then I feel it on my shoulder.

            “Please, Cinder. I can’t change the past. But I’m trying to change the future.”

            I flinch away from his touch and turn to glare into his eyes. “The damn butterflies. Get rid of them. You only have them around to feel her. If you want anything to do with me, she must go. Everything that reminds you of her.”

            “Of course, Cinder. I wasn’t aware how much it hurt you.”

            “You weren’t aware because you didn’t think I would figure it out. She was your piano teacher. She preyed on young boys and old men with money. She made her brother do perverted things to get his fix, only to get her fix. She used you, Ash. Don’t you see that. She never loved you. She never loved your father.”

            With each word, his chest heaves like I’m punching him. I can’t help it. I want him to hurt. Even though I know he’s been hurting for years. What is wrong with me?

            “I know, Cinder. She was incapable of love. It’s only the young boy who still lives within me that loved her before he knew. That innocent boy who wanted to touch a woman. Kiss a woman. Make love to a woman. Be the man to a special woman.”

            I feel the tears running down my cheeks, and I watch Ash’s eyes move toward them. His hand comes to my face and he gently wipes away the tears.

            “I never want to hurt you, Cinder. I’m tired of hurting myself. Let me be your man. Show you the man I wanted to be when I was young. Before she warped my thoughts of love. There was a time, Cinder.”

            He’s killing me. Just the look in his eyes pains me to no end. So much mercy, pain, hope.

            He moves closer and places his lips on my cheek. He kisses my tears. “I want to make love to you, Cinder. Let me?” he asks, showing tenderness, and my heart melts.

            “Ash,” I whisper.

            He picks me up and carries me across the dining area and down a set of stairs. He opens a door to a bedroom that is to die for and lays me gently on the bed. My whole body is in a lethargic bliss. I watch him remove his clothes. Never do his eyes leave me. He reaches for my hand and pulls me up. I’m dizzy as he undresses me and lies me back down. My heart explodes in two when he crawls up on the bed and covers me with his body.

            I’m done for.

            I’m all his.

            Please, don’t break my heart, Ash Sinclair.


***

Saving Ash© 2024 Gina A. Jones rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.


This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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shannon Cheripka
31 mai
Noté 5 étoiles sur 5.

Ash is trying so hard. These 2 need each other and I hope that the past will stay in the past.

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