Page 66 of Ashes to Ashes

Chapter Twenty-Five

Rae

There was shouting,and banging, and then two additional shots fired out. And through it all, I sat huddled in on myself on the bathroom floor, praying that Ash was still alive. But then suddenly, everything went quiet, and I knew. I just knew. He wasn’t, and I wasnext.

But even so, one thing was for certain. I sure as hell wasn’t going down without a fight.

The man I loved and the dogs I adored had given their lives to protect me, to keep me safe from harm. In the end, they’d failed, but I wouldn’t.

Their deaths would not be invain.

I pushed up from the floor on wobbling legs and stood with my feet braced apart, the gun directed at the door. It shook in my hands, but I knew my aim wouldn’t falter. Ash’s words echoed in my head and rattled around in my chest in the empty space where my heart once lived. Shoot the motherfucker and don’t stop. Keep pulling that trigger until you’ve emptied the magazine. Don’t let up until you’re sure he’s never gettingup.

One of us was walking out of here today, and it wasn’t going to be Chip Noones.

I waited for the coming battle, listening to the sound of pounding footsteps echoing on the bare wood treads as my assailant made his way upstairs to find me. And then the crack of plaster when the bedroom door was flung wide and the doorknob crashed into the wall. And finally, more footsteps, this time muted by the thick pile of nondescript beige carpeting.

I took stock of my body—catalogued my breathing, my heart rate, my stance—as the gun rested solid and heavy in my trembling hands. I locked my elbows, and set my finger on the trigger, ready tofire.

And then the door flew open, and reflexively, I squeezed. A deafening shot rang out and reverberated through the small room. I closed my eyes against the pain searing my eardrums and then squeezed again. A large hand clutched the gun, trying to wrest it from my grip, but I held tight. Noones let go and then shook me until my teeth rattled in my skull and my body flopped to and fro like a well-loved rag doll. When I realized my eyes were still screwed tight, I opened them. I wasn’t going to die without seeing the man who’d terrorized me all thistime.

But it wasn’t Noones.

It wasAsh.

His lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear a word he said. In fact, all I heard was a low, insistent ringing, a steady buzz in my skull.

Ash’s hands skated over my hair, over my face, and down my shoulders. And then he was tugging me out of the room, throwing clothes at me. My hearing was slowly returning, so I was able to make out his barked commands as if he was speaking into a pillow.

“Get dressed.”

“We have togo.”

“Put thison.”

I threw a sweatshirt on over my head and pulled my legs into a random pair of jeans he’d tossed my way, noting they must have come from the bottom of my drawer. The pockets were dotted with rhinestones, and they were so tight they could have been painted on my skin and no one would have known the difference. I couldn’t remember packing them, and I certainly hadn’t worn them since we’d arrived. These were pants made for the stage, not for sitting in a studio pouring your heart out. For some strange reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about why Ash had picked these pants, why it was important that when we fled, I should be wearing something sparkly.

Ash came around in front of me and gripped my biceps in his large, calloused palms. “Rae, look at me.” He shook me, gently, and my eyes landed onhis.

“I know you’re in shock, but I need you to move. Can you do that for me, baby?”

I licked my lips, surprised to find them dry and cracked. “Where’s Noones?” I asked, my voice breaking.

“He’s downstairs, but that’s not important. What’s important is that we get you out of here. I need you to put on your shoesnow.”

He crouched down in front of me, and I rested my hands on his back as I lifted first one foot, and then the other. If the rhinestone jeans were incongruous with our environment, the well-worn hot pink cowboy boots were even more so. They weren’t practical, but I loved them. They’d been the boots I’d had on the day I left home, and then again when I’d signed my first record deal, and finally, when I found out I’d been nominated for my first-ever Grammy. And, I realized, they were also what I’d had on the night I met Ash for the first time, that fateful night in a dive bar outside of Boise, Idaho. No matter where I was in the world, these pink cowboy boots had been my constant companion, marking all the most important moments of my life. It was appropriate then that Ash had slipped my feet into them as we were fleeing from my would-be killer.

And with that thought, the mishmash of my jumbled thoughts coalesced, and I came back to myself. I’d been fumbling since the moment I’d closed my eyes and fired the gun back in the bathroom, but I needed to get a grip on myself. I squared my shoulders and stiffened my spine with determination. Ash needed to know he didn’t have to coddle me like a child; that I was a grown ass woman and I could be his partner in this, not a burden.

Once my feet were in my boots, I moved to the bedside table and grabbed my phone and a big old wad of cash out of the drawer. Call it a holdover from a different life, but I always slept with money by my head, in case I had to make a quick getaway and leave everything behind. Today wasn’t the first time I’d taken the money and ran, but I sincerely hoped it would be mylast.

I tried shoving my phone and money into my front pocket, but the jeans were too tight to even get my fingers between the fabric, so I pushed it all down into my bra instead. You’d be surprised what a woman can keep in here, my grandma once told me as she hid a whole coin purse down the front of her blouse. She’d winked at me then; despite its size and heft, you hadn’t been able to see it under her clothes.

Ash grabbed my hand and we ran down the stairs toward the front door. As we went, my eyes scanned the stairwell and then the landing, but there was no sign of Noones. None, until we reached the foyer. That’s when I saw it. There was blood everywhere.

I skidded to a halt. “Ash?”

He tugged me forward. “Keep moving Rae,” he ordered, flinging the front door open and pushing me through. I tripped over the threshold but followed his command. From behind me, Ash whistled, and the sound of eight feet clicking on tile filled my ears. Blanche and Dorothy trailed behind, Blanche’s fur matted with blood, while Dorothy hobbled on an injured leg. But they were here, and they were alive, and I’d never been so happy to seethem.

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