Burning Ember (35 page)

“You want to know the rest, huh? Well the truth is my life’s never been pretty, Mav. It’s been a fucking maze. Full of trials and dead ends. I never had normal. Not even as a child. There were always drugs and creepy men. And too many days where we ate expired food out of a can because that’s all we had. My mom cut out when I was sixteen. Sixteen. I had to drop out of school to help make ends meet. Do you know how hard it is to find a job that pays more than minimum wage when you’re a drop out? It’s impossible. So yes when a rich guy bought me things and paid attention to me, I fell for him hard and fast. Until he showed his true colors and took away everything important to me. Threatened everything I cared about and wouldn’t even so much as let me out of the house unless I was by his side.”

I blow out a huff of air. “Do you get it now? I’ve learned to fight my battles where I can and work with the shit choices I’ve been given. I’m just trying to stay alive, and how I do that no longer matters to me.”

Moisture stings behind my eyes. Before the tears can fall in front of Mav, I spin to Taz. Thrusting my hands toward him, I plead, “Please, take them off.”

Against my will, one tear and then another trail down my face.

Taz works fast, and the second my hands are free, I’m ducking under the ropes, fleeing as fast as I can across the garage.

Mav calls out to me.

I’m almost to the door when steel arms band around me and pull me to a stop. One around my midsection. Another over my chest, and Mav’s rich scent engulfs me. Hugging me tightly to his chest, he whispers, “Fuck. I’m sorry. Jesus . . . I needed to know . . . I had to make sure you wanted more than this.”

My chest is heaving and tears keep falling. It finally dawns on me why he’s being a dick for no reason. He wanted to know why I’m here. He wanted me to admit that I don’t want to be a clubpiece. That all of this is a last resort for me.

“Why? Why do you care now? This whole time you’ve tried to run me off. You’ve treated me like shit. Like I mean nothing to you.”

“You’re somethin’ to me. You’ve been somethin’ to me since the first second I saw you. I’ve just been trying like hell to fight it.”

“Why?”

“Because the last woman I fell for ripped my world down around me. Put me through hell.”

“I’m not her.”

“I know, Doll. Fuck. I know that now.” His voice lowers and he speaks right next to my ear. “You’re better than this place. And fuck, I know you’re too good for me, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting you.”

My chest expands, fills with warmth.

“I know I’ve pushed you away to the point you want to go, and I know I don’t deserve one, but I can fix this. I want a chance to fix this.”

With every bone in my body, I ache to give in to him. But I’m so angry and so wary of his moods. How can I believe him when he’s turned on me at every opportunity?

I can’t.

The silence stretches between us until I ask, “Are you going to stop me if I want to leave?”

He sighs and drops his head into the curve of my neck. His arms tighten around me. “It’s your life. You’re free to do whatever you want. I won’t stop you if that’s what you feel you need to do. But I really fuckin’ hope you stay. I’m better than this. I swear to fuckin’ Christ I am. Let me prove it.”

A snake coils around my heart. The same snake that’s been there since the moment I met Mav. I raise my hand and cover his arm around my stomach for a few seconds. I soak up the feel of him. There is something here. Being in his arms feels like it’s where I’m supposed to be. I can’t explain why. Without permission, he’s seared himself onto my heart. Lit a fire so deep inside me, I don’t know if it’ll ever burn out. And I know no matter where I go from here, every moment we have shared will stay with me.

The good and the bad.

I step out of his arms, and he reluctantly lets me go. I don’t give him an answer and he doesn’t demand one. Maybe because he knows what the answer will be if I have to make it right now.

The cost of freedom comes in many different forms.

EMBER

I was fighting more than Luce in that ring. My frustrations with life have been mounting for a while with all of the people and decisions that have brought me to this point. It was only a matter of time before they came rushing out.

I’m twenty-two years old and I have never once lived a day the way I want to live it. At least, not that I can remember. My life has been a series of obstacles. People and things that needed my attention. For more years than I care to count, I’ve put other people’s needs before my own.

First, it was working to help my mom pay the bills. When she disappeared on us, I had to work day and night to keep a roof over our heads, not to mention food in the cupboards.

Sundown, left to her own devices, got pregnant at fifteen. She couldn’t hold down a job, and she didn’t know how to care for a baby—nor did she want to—so for nearly four years, I provided and cared for Will.

I became her mother.

My sister popped in and out of our lives. Partly my fault, I should have put my foot down with her early on. But how could I? Our mother sold her prettiest daughter for money. My sister had a justifiable reason for being fearful and restless. She hated staying in the home she was victimized in, but moving wasn’t a luxury we could afford.

I sympathized with her. I didn’t blame her for needing to nullify the pain and dull the memories with men and alcohol. I just hated that it came as a detriment to Will and me.

When she finally hit rock bottom, she showed up at the door half-dead, beaten black and blue, and twenty pounds under weight. She never told me what happened, but afterward she decided to get clean and stay that way. At first, she’d been just another mouth to feed, but to my surprise, she started waitressing part time and let me help her apply for state assistance.

That’s when I met Warner. He was attending a conference in the hotel where I worked. He went out of his way to run into me and strike up a conversation.

I fell . . . hook . . . line . . . and sinker for his heavenly blue eyes and sweet all-American boy charm. How could I not? He doted on me, brought me flowers, and took me to the nicest restaurants. He paid my bills, gave me extra money to spend not only on myself, but also on Will and Sunny. I did things with Warner that I’d only dreamed of. For the first time in my life, I had pretty dresses and nice shoes. Sunglasses. I had never owned a pair of sunglasses before. They were a want, not a need, and I’d only had money for needs.

After four months of dating, Warner asked me to move in with him. He slowly but surely convinced me that Sunny would never fulfill her rightful role as Will’s mom until I stepped out of her way. He said I was keeping them from having a real mother and daughter relationship, and Will needed her mother. A small part of me had been thinking the same thing for a long time, and his comments made me feel guilty and selfish until I finally conceded.

What I didn’t realize at the time, was that by persuading me to move away from them, he was starting to distance me from everyone in my life.

And moving away from Will was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. The only exception is living every day like I do now, without seeing her face or hearing her voice. Not only because it felt as if I had ripped out my heart and handed it over to my unreliable sister to care for, but because the anxiety I experienced was insurmountable. What if Sunny decided she wasn’t ready to be a mom again? What if she started drinking again? What if she brought men over?

I worried constantly.

To the point that it affected my relationship with Warner and my job performance. Warner said I should just quit working.
If you’re going to cook and clean for anyone, it might as well be me.
I had no problem with that. Then he told me to stop calling Sundown so much to check in, she was fine. I needed to give her and Will some space to bond, give Sunny some room to make mistakes and learn from them.

Then more little nudges came. He didn’t want me driving at night. He was worried when I drove at all. The new maid could pick up anything I needed.

The little things though started to pile up, and eventually, I realized I was losing control and handing it all over to him. With each day, I grew more and more scared of what new liberty he’d take away next.

Sexually, at first, he took our relationship slow. I wasn’t totally inexperienced, but I was still a virgin, and since I had waited twenty-one years for the right man to come along, I was both nervous and terrified of having sex. He relieved my fears early on by promising to wait until we were married.

Then for reasons I can’t explain, he grew impatient and angry with me. He grabbed me often and his soft touches turned hard. His kisses became hungry, his hands began to wander, and all the softer parts of him fell away. The charming and generous man I’d met disappeared.

One night, his promise to wait until marriage went up in smoke.

There was no romance. No tenderness. He took my virginity while I was face down on the kitchen floor, after the backhanded slap I had received, which had sent me there. The tile was white and the contrast of the blood from both the cut on my mouth and my broken hymen finally snapped me out of the daze. I kept telling myself it would get better. But as I cleaned the blood from the floor, I realized that was a lie. Things were only going to get worse.

The next day, he came home with flowers and apologized for getting
carried away
.

But over the next two weeks, he often got
carried away.
He also got paranoid. His bedroom became my prison, and a set of handcuffs took away the last bit of freedom I possessed.

I think partly it was about sex, but mostly he wanted me scared. He got off on my pain and the fact that I was powerless against him.

When I finally managed to escape the handcuffs, I tried to make it look like I’d died in that fire. I had to do something to buy me some time. Time to get as far away from him as possible. I also wanted that damn house, and all the memories of what I survived within its walls, to burn to the ground.

Before jumping on a bus, I called Sundown from a payphone and told her everything. She assured me they were okay and the money I’d given them plus the money she received from the state would get them by for a few months. That relieved some of my fears. Sunny also swore to me that she’d take care of Will, and then told me to call as soon as I got somewhere safe.

Looking down at the phone in my hands, courtesy of Mav who just dropped me off to a sweet and welcoming Bethany, I stall to make the phone call I’ve wanted to make for over a month.

Moisture drips from my jaw as countless tears trail down my face. This time, I don’t force them back. I let them come. I need to get them out. Because I won’t waste my time on the phone with Will crying. Not. One. Second. When I get the chance to talk to her, I want to do just that. Talk to my baby girl, hear all about her new school and her new friends, and somehow make her understand that I’m not in her life, not because I don’t want to be, but because for right now . . . I have to be.

Sometimes the hope for a better tomorrow is all we have to cling to.

EMBER

My eyes are glued to the road and the yellow line in the center as it disappears from sight.

“It’s not going anywhere.” Bethany’s voice startles me out of my thoughts.

“Huh?”

With one perfectly shaped eyebrow arched, she looks over at me. Her honey blonde hair is swept up in a messy bun. She has flawless skin and doesn’t look old enough to have a teenage son. She’s slender, taller than I am, and has pale green eyes that are somehow both striking and calming. My immediate thought upon meeting her was Dozer’s an idiot. Why is he wasting his time with me when he has a history with someone like her? She’s not only nice, she’s genuine, and extremely beautiful. She seems to appreciate the simpler things in life like comfortable clothing, the ice tea we’re drinking in cheap, neon, plastic cups, and the wicker chairs we’re sitting in on her front porch.

Her home is a simple rambler¸ but cozy, and has the feel of love in every room.

She gestures to the right. “You’ve been staring at the road for a while now.”