Chapter 26
Asher
Somehow,Imanagetofind my way to my parents’ house. Dad opens the door when I ring the bell. He’s got his headphones plugged in—on a work call, no doubt, and he sends me barely more than a glance.
Last time I showed up at my parents’ house, I had to admit I was out of the money they’d sent me that week. I barely managed to dodge their questions about what I’d been spending it on. Of course, I’d spent it on drugs, and I think they suspected as much, but if so, they denied their suspicions. Or maybe they just didn’t care.
I trudge up the stairs to my old boy’s room, wrench my clothes off, and collapse into bed.
Hours pass before I wake up. Part of me wishes I wouldn’t wake up at all.
“Ash?”
There’s a knock on my door. I give a muffled groan in reply, and my visitor pushes the door open.
It’s Ethan.
I should have known. I’ve slept through hours of nightmares, waking up momentarily to look out the window and see Dad’s car come and go. So many thoughts have gone through my mind between my brother’s call and this moment that I only now remember he’s the reason I’m here in the first place. He’s the reason I?…?why Noah and I?…
“Dad said you were here.” Ethan drops the gym bag he’s carrying and sits on the side of my bed. “You look like shit. Are you sick or something?”
“Um?…?yeah.” I might as well let him think I’m sick. It’s better than the truth.
“I just arrived.” He sighs heavily and brushes a hand through his hair, and it strikes me that we don’t look all that alike anymore. While I’ve kept the lean build I got after puberty hit, he’s put on a lot of muscle, and his hair’s shorter, trimmed at the sides and longer at the top. He gives me an odd look. “Hey, are you okay?”
I can’t bring myself to answer. I just can’t escape the fact that we haven’t exchanged more than two sentences since he left for college. He came home for Christmas last year, and we sat at the dinner table having family-fun time, or more like awkward-as-hell time.
He never asked me any questions like this back then. Why now?
It doesn’t help that I’m constantly on the verge of crying. It doesn’t help that I see Noah’s face and hear his voice in every waking moment. When I’m asleep, I dream about him and all that we did, all I experienced with him. The good times, the bad times, and the utterly horrifying ones.
Waking up drugged and bound. Thinking I was about to die.
Bathing at knifepoint. Listening to Noah’s deepest, darkest secrets and caressing his cheek.
Holding a knife to his throat. Him holding a knife to mine. Our lips touching.
His venture into the woods. My grief. Oh god, my grief?…
Maybe he’s already done it. Maybe he’s gone far into the forest with his hunting rifle, so far no one will ever find him, and his body will rot and become one with the forest?…?Maybe I should never have left. I can’t stand to have his death on my conscience, but at the same time, can I really be responsible for what he does with his life, or how he ends it?
I can barely even breathe, so how can I stand to bear that burden?
“Ash?” Ethan reaches for my arm, and I try to pull away, but he’s too quick. Like Lilith, he grips my wrist hard and studies the half-healed marks on my skin, as well as the faint needle marks in the crook of my arm. “What the fuck? Did you do this?”
He shifts closer and rips the cover away from my torso, and he exposes the knife mark by my ribs. The scab is almost gone, and underneath, it’s raw and itchy.
“Ash?…?What the fuck happened to you?”
I pull the cover back over myself. “Nothing.” I feel like I succeed in keeping my voice steady and detached, but my eyes must be betraying something my tone does not.
“Don’t lie to me.”
I bristle. “Why wouldn’t I? Last time you even said a word to me unprovoked, you told me I was just a shadow.”
He sighs and lays a hand on my knee. “That’s not what I said.”
I roll my eyes, or at least I try to, but I bet the expression doesn’t come across right with how miserable I feel. I can’t stand to argue with him about what was or wasn’t said. I don’t want to do anything. I just want to crawl into myself and not even look at him anymore.