The Colors of Ash-Chapter Thirty-six

My head is spinning, thumping, thumping, spinning. God, I know I’m alive because I feel like crap. My mouth is dry. Who is spinning this bed?

God, I think I’m going to be sick.

When I open my eyes, the room is a blur. I have no memory of last night…or Jack for that matter. Is he here? I’m surprised I even remembered his name. But after I slammed the cup down, I have no memory of anything else.

Oh, God. Was I kidnapped? The room is still a bit dark. I need to find a bathroom…and throw up.

I move my legs from under the covers, inching toward the floor. My body moves at a snail's pace until I feel solid ground. There is no way I can walk. Pathetically, I will crawl…and find a bathroom. I can’t throw up here in this bed. Or on the floor.

“Ahhh!” On my hands and knees, I empty the contents of my stomach all over the floor. I feel as if I’m going to die.

“Jack? Jack, where are you?”

“Jack is not here.”

What? It can’t be. I know that voice.

“Ash?”

“Yes, it’s me. What were you thinking last night?”

What the hell? Why is he here…here in Jack’s house? Am I in Jack’s house? I have no memory of leaving the club.

And if it is Ash… Oh, God, I don’t want him to see me like this!

Slowly, I lift my head, scanning the room with one eye open. Where the hell am I? A pair of legs come into view, and I eye them all the way up. He’s looking down at me. Is that disgust on his face? Anger for sure.

“What are you doing here?”

“Better yet, what are you doing here?”

“Ash, I don’t want to play these games anymore. Right now, I don’t have the energy to do anything.”

“I can see that. Come on,” he says and helps me up. Once I’m standing, he then picks me up and carries me.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the shower. You’re hungover.”

No shit.

I don’t want to argue and lay my head against his chest. Then I remember…I’m not supposed to do that. Something about his issues.

“Lay your head back on my chest if it helps,” he says, and I’m shocked. Did I get drunk and end up in yet another episode of The Twilight Zone? Nothing surprises me anymore.

He takes me into a bathroom and sets me down on the counter of the vanity. I watch him reach in, and turn on the shower. He looks so fucking amazing, and I hate him for it. He rolls up the sleeve of his white dress shirt, testing the water with his arm.

“Come here, let’s get you inside.”

“Ah, turn around, or leave the room, so I can undress.”

“Cinder, you’re already naked.”

What? Of course, I’d be naked. I left to have a one-night stand and woke up in a strange bed. I look down, and yep, I’m naked. What the hell happened?

Well, I can pretty much guess. But with Jack…or Ash?

I look down with defeat. I can’t look him in the eye. Though I owe him no explanation.

He picks me up and places me in the shower. I move into the hot water and hope it can wash off the shame. It does feel good.

I close my eyes, and lift my face into the spray, drenching my hair. It sticks to my face and shoulders. I didn’t realize how cold I was until the hot water brought out goosebumps. I could stay in here forever. Or, at least until my hangover goes away.

All thoughts stop when a set of arms wrap around me. Holding me.

I open my eyes under the spray of water, and look down at his hands, as he rubs my arms. I have no idea what this is. Or why he’s here. I only know, I want him here.

He’s naked, and I feel him. He’s hard against my back. Are we going to make love? I mentally roll my eyes. Ash does not make love. Ash fucks hard and he punishes. Actually, I don’t think I could even handle sex right now. Instead, I just lean into him, testing the waters, ironically speaking.

Ash begins washing my body, his hands softly and gently massaging up and down. His hands come between my legs, but he only cleans me. It’s so sensual, so loving, so not Ash. But I will take this moment in time if it’s the only thing I’ll ever have of him.

He says no words, and I feel he’s testing himself as well. Exploring his limits, his other side, his colors.

He gathers my hair into his hands and lathers the shampoo into my scalp. His strong hands feel so good on my aching head, that I escape a moan. I feel tears burning the back of my eyes. Everything feels so good, that it hurts. I will never understand him. But I want to. Even though I know…it will kill me in the end.

We both are under the water, as he rinses my hair and my body. Then, he just holds me. I begin to cry. I don’t understand these tears. It’s like everything inside me aches with happiness when he’s near me. Maybe I don’t want to learn him completely. It would destroy the mystery, the legend he holds in the shadows of my mind.

He turns off the water, and takes me by the arm, walking me out of the shower. Just like he has done in the past, he wraps me in a white, fluffy robe. Is this his home in the city, his bedroom? I’ve only been here one time, and I was blindfolded.

I’m here. We’re together. I don’t care why.

And I’m sure it’s only for now.

He wraps himself in a robe, and then picks me up, carrying me out of the bathroom. He walks over to a dark, velvet settee, and sits down, pulling me in close. It’s quiet, and I listen to the rapid beating of his heart. I can tell this is hard for him, and I have no idea why he is doing this.

To me, it’s everything. It’s all the colors of the rainbow, colliding to create a perfect world in this moment.

To him, it’s a test. I’m a subject. A toy to be put away when he’s done. I must remember this. I must build a wall where my desires for him cannot penetrate.

I know he isn’t really like this. I know he’s dying to put me down, put me away. Why am I such a threat to him?

“Would you like some music?” he asks.

He is asking if I would like something? That’s a first.

I don’t want to talk, so I nod.

He reaches for his phone on the nightstand, scrolls through it, and then places it back down. The song plays, and I wonder if there is meaning behind the words. I wonder a lot of things when I’m with Ash. Are the words meant for someone else? Pippa? But for now, I nestle into his body, as he pets my wet hair, as we both listen to Lewis Capaldi’s, Someone You Loved.

Someone You Loved-click to listen

The Colors of 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.