Page 40 of Ashes to Ashes

Chapter Sixteen

Rae

For the nextseveral days my life centered on two things only: sex and music. And for as good as it was, there were moments when it was hard to ignore the parallels to my old life—how back then sex and music had been the only things I’d cared about too. But it felt different this time, with Ash by myside.

And yet, for all the time we spent exploring each other’s bodies, we hadn’t taken the time to discuss our deepening bond. Aside from the fact that I knew Ash would do everything in his power to keep me safe, I didn’t know how he felt about me. He was such a closed book most of the time, that I could only make assumptions. But after he’d leave my bed, or I’d leave his, I’d lay there wondering if he wanted more? Or when we’d go our separate ways during the day, I’d stare out the window watching him walk the property and torture myself asking if he was thinking about me too. At times, it felt like I was living with a stranger and not my lover.

My lover.Did people still say that? And if not, what did you call the person you were having sex with on the regular, sharing a home with, but didn’t really know? Was there a precedent for this I could reference? Who had the manual? I supposed it was time for a frank and honest discussion. In the meantime, I’d go back to thinking of him as simply my bodyguard. One I just happened to be fucking. I just wanted some clarity, was all. I wasn’t bitter. I understood he had a job to do, and I didn’t begrudge him that … especially since I had a job of my own to do aswell.

And speaking of my job, I’d spent the last twenty-four hours holed up in Ash’s studio futzing around with the final sixteen songs I’d selected for my album. I’d never intended to perform any of them—much less acoustically—so there were a number of kinks to work out with my melodies and harmonies, especially since there wouldn’t actually be any harmonies without background singers to support me. I’d once heard that Kelly Clarkson did her own backing vocals on her first album, and I wondered how that would work. I made a note for Rocky to reach out to her people to see if we could set up a time to talk through the particulars. I’d met Kelly in passing a few times and she was the sweetest, most down to earth performer I’d ever come across. She really was as nice in person as she appeared on TV, something all too rare in our business.

In the meantime, I put my head down and went back to tinkering. With just my voice and my trusty guitar to give life to my words, each song needed to stand on its own. Like Kelly, I’d gotten my start by winning a singing competition, so there was no question my voice was up to the challenge, but it’d been a long time since I’d been so exposed—both emotionally and vocally. I’d grown used to having my two regular backup singers with me on stage and in the studio.

And now, between my isolation and the reason why for this album, I felt almost naked. Exposed in a way I’d never been before. The sheer emotion I’d have to dredge up to deliver something of this magnitude would require me to re-live some of the worst periods of my life, leaving me scraped bloody and raw. In truth, I was already there. The last couple of days I’d let my worries get to me, and I’d become an agitated mess, filled with jittery anticipation. From past experience, I knew it would only going to get worse once I started recording.

Needing to work through some of my excess energy, I set my guitar aside and paced the darkened room, my body feeling itchy and twitchy, like I was coming out of my skin. Hugging my arms across my middle, I rubbed my hands up and down my bare skin and tried to push the feeling away. Unfortunately, the more I fought it, the worse my anxietygrew.

I hated feeling out of control, not having a say in my own destiny.

I liked to think I’d done a fairly decent job of not freaking out that someone wanted to kill me, but alone in the studio with nothing but my thoughts for company, the fear started to creep in, so I did what I always did when I needed to escape: I wrote. Grabbing my notebook, I started scribbling the first things that came tomind.

Memories tug at the strings of my heart

and remind me what used to be. (What used tobe.)

I’m not that same woman anymore

but that won’t make itstop.

It won’tstop.

I’m looking out at a sea of the unknown

and battling against waves

that threaten to pull me under. (Pull me under.)

I look for solace and stability

built on a house of cards

that is only going to tumble. (Going to tumble.)

Down, down, down

So I look toyou

to be my shelter.

To protectme.

But you can’t be thatman.

No one can be thatman.

Because the only one who can saveme

isme.

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