Page 36 of From the Ashes
you and me tonight, how does that sound handsome?
It sounds like quick torture.Badly executed, killing the victim way too early, and getting no result. It’s bland as fuck, doesn't have any taste. I put my phone back into my back pocket and sigh. A text from the barmaid of our club isn’t going to get her the desired effect she was hoping for. The chick isn’t ugly, with long black hair, green eyes, and tattoos all over her slim body. But I have to say, it has as much effect on me as watching a wall of bricks. Since I changed jobs for the club and got out of my basement to do less violent work, this girl has been chasing me nonstop. Maybe she likes the idea of redemption, or maybe it’s just the thrill of getting in bed with someone who killed hundreds of men and never blinks an eye at it.
Either way, all my brain can think of is Lana, and I don’t want folks here thinking I’d ever try something with a woman here, especially if things go well and they meet her in two weeks at Ares’s and Mia’s.
“Still up for this afternoon?” asks Ash, his red hair disheveled, with a black pair of jeans and his leather cut as he comes back from the basement while I finish checking the new guns we received. Today is different. Ares made special plans for Mia, so we’re off duty. It’s still early, and I’m off to Lana’s in a few. I’m holding my breath thinking about her hazelnut hair as I answer Ash.
“Of course. We can meet here and go there together if you want.”
“Um, yeah, cool,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his head.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, a gun in my hand.
“No, nothing, it’s just, I don’t want to take too much of your time with…you know.” I study his face and notice he’s twisting his lips. Ash always does that when he’s embarrassed.
“I want to support you,” I say, my voice blank as hell.Can’t you just fucking smile and hug him? Humans need physical touch, especially when they are unsure or vulnerable,Dr. Parks said. I lift my hand but end up clenching my fist awkwardly.
“What was that?” He frowns, eyeing me like I’m an alien.
“Nothing.”
“Um, that didn’t look like nothing.” He smirks.
“Shut up,” I say before looking back at the Glock I’m polishing.
Ash chuckles, then glances around. “Nice,” he says, whistling softly. “I’ll see you at two, bro.” He spins on his heel and walks back toward the main hall. I stay rooted to the spot, the gun suddenly heavy as a ton of bricks.What am I doing? Trying to comfort a friend? Trying to seduce a woman who’s clearly out of my league? I should know better than to chase a life that’s too good to be true.My phone vibrates again, but this time it does it two times in a row, which is the special setting I chose for Lana. My mouth runs dry and I look at the screen.Maybe she canceled.
Lana
To do list done ! I’m all set. Waiting for you :)
I exhale deeply. Damn, false alarm. I finish polishing two other guns, then take my cut and head out to see her. The ride is fast, as if each mile separating me from this angel is too much to bear. And just as I’m about to reach her porch, I sense my chest tightening as I watch her open her door with a simple white T-shirt and a denim mini-skirt. Her hair is flowing wildly down her shoulders, the morning light shining on it and making it look like chocolate and caramel melted together to form the most beautiful color.She’s so beautiful it hurts.I inhale, holding my helmet in one hand and my cut on reverse on my shoulder, watching her gawk at my flexed biceps. Her lips part.Good.She swallows and pulls a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Hi,” she says quietly, her voice dripping like blood in a fresh wound.
“Hi, sweetness,” I tell her, trying my best not to sound like a fucking stone.
“Come on, get in.” She smiles, and I try to reciprocate that. I try and I fucking fail. But somehow the idea that one day I’ll figure out a way to smile back at her hits me like a truck.
If I can do it for someone, it’ll be for her.
LANA
Ben
Got a gift for our son. I will drop it off around eleven. Or maybe before if you want a little one on one with me baby.
Ew.
Carter just parked in my driveway, and the last thing I want right now is a standoff between my ex and my new… Um, and Carter. And why does he keep calling me baby? I hate when he does that. I’m not a baby. I’m a grown woman with bills to pay and a child to raise. If anything, the only person who could ever call me that would need to earn my respect and trust. And this person will never be him. He knows Noah often goes to Nancy's for one or two hours on Saturday morning to play with his cousins, and allows me to do house chores so I can fully focus on him afterward. But somehow I hate that Ben knows that and keeps showing up at that dedicated time to “drop off” things or “say hi”. Like, how many times can you play the “I was in the neighborhood” card when you live two hours away? He knows the rules and he keeps breaking them. And… And I hate myself for letting him walk all over me.
Look how far you’ve come. Speak up and tell him to never step into your house uninvited. You can do it.
I drop my phone on the living room table and open the door, watching Carter stroll toward me like a model, and clench my teeth hard because if I don’t hold my jaw tight, it might fall on the porch’s floor.He’s so, so…
“Hi,” I say, feeling like a teenage girl when in fact, I’m the older one here.
“Hi, sweetness,” he greets me, and I melt at the nickname. He’s holding his cut on the back of his shoulder, the motion makes his bicep flex, and I’m mesmerized by it. He shouldn’t be allowed to wear a black T-shirt. That should be illegal.
