Ash to Steele (39 page)

   “What records?  What happened?”

   Justin lays a file in my lap, and I close my eyes.  I saw what Breck did to Edwin and I remember what he said he would’ve done if he had raped me. I’ve seen him fight.  There’s no question that he’s dangerous.  He can and has caused significant damage, but I know in my soul that Breck isn’t a murderer.  My fingers shake as I open the file, reading the secrets of Breck’s past.  Tears stain my cheeks, and Jess lays her head on my shoulder, slipping her fingers through mine.  Heart wrenching sorrow engulfs me and I slam it shut.  “Did you read this, Justin?” I ask quietly. 

   “Yes.” 

   Blinking, my eyes raise to his, “Then, you know he’s not a
murderer
! How can you call him that after what you read?” I push him with all the anger and despair raging inside, “LEAVE!  I never want to see you again!”

   He stumbles backwards as Dad grabs my arm, “Emma Michelle, what is wrong with you?”

   Justin throws the file on the desk. “That seems to be a recurring question for you, Emma,” he yells, “what
is
wrong with you?  What has happened to the girl I knew?  The girl I fell in love with?  You can’t possibly want someone like him!”

   I thrash at Justin, and Dad holds me back, “Stop it, Emma!”

   Justin’s eyes darken with contempt, “I didn’t tell your father that I saw you or what you’ve become, but it’s time he knows what his daughter has turned into.  Tell him, Emma.  Tell him how you are sleeping with Breck, a convicted murderer!” 

   “Stop calling him that!” I scream. 

   Dad lets me go, stepping in between Justin and me.  “That’s enough, Justin!” his tone is harsher than I’ve ever heard. 

   Justin grabs my arm, pushing up the sleeve and showing the tattoo, knowing my father is adamantly against them.  “She’s getting tattoos, drinking, and having sex, John.  It’s time you bring her home.”

   “It’s not your place to say what I should or shouldn’t do with my daughter,” Dad states calmly.  He takes one look at the broken angel wing on my arm, then sees the bruises from Liam’s grip, and gently runs his thumb across the marks before sliding the sleeve back down.  His troubled gaze lands on mine, “It’s not mine either.  You aren’t a child and I can’t force you, no matter how badly I want to make you come home.” 

   “You’re just going to let her whore around with him!” Justin questions, his eyes widening.

   Dad spins towards Justin, “Don’t ever speak to my daughter that way again.  I know you’re upset, but now is not the time to do this.  Emma’s life was threatened and she’s been traumatized.  You need to go cool off, Justin.”

  Justin glares at me before walking away. 

   I can’t look at Dad as he faces me.  His hand finds my chin, raising it, “I love you, Emma.  I don’t agree with your choices but we can talk about that later.” 

   “Did you read his file?” 

   Dad nods, “He saved your life, Em, and you seem to have a lot of faith in that young man.  I just hope you know what you’re getting into.”

   Detective Stahl returns, nodding towards the hall, “I think you’ve been waiting to see someone for awhile.” 

   Breck steps around the corner, and I can’t get to him fast enough.  I throw myself into his arms, and he groans. “Sorry,” I breathe into his chest, into the same kind of sweatshirt I’m wearing, “are you okay?  Can we go now?”

   Breck pulls me close to him, wrapping me so tightly in his arms, “We can go wherever you want to go, Emma.”  He buries his face in my hair and his voice breaks, “I was so scared you would never want to see me again.”  

    “That could never be possible, Breck,” I press my cheek against his chest, relishing in what I thought was lost. 

   Dad comes up behind me and places his hand on my shoulder.  Reluctantly, I pull away, giving Dad a sheepish grin, “Dad, this is Breck.”  I tangle my small fingers in Breck’s strong ones, “This is my father.”

   The look in Breck’s eyes speaks volumes, and I know this is nowhere near how he wanted to meet my father.  We had planned for Breck to meet Dad next month.  He was going to ask his permission to marry me.  I know he’s worried that the blessing he was looking for will be withheld now.  It doesn’t matter if it is; I’m marrying him anyway.  I see the changes in him, even though they are slow.  Breck extends his hand, “Mr. Jones, I-,” he pauses, squaring his jaw, “I wish I could have met you under different circumstances.”

   Dad places his hand in Breck’s, “So do I, son.”  Dad takes his time looking at Breck, like he’s searching for something to make him understand all that’s happened, “You look like you could use a doctor.”

   Breck shrugs, “I’ll survive.”

   My eyes close.  Survive.  That’s all he’s ever done.  “Can we please leave?”

   Dad goes to wrap his arm around my shoulder the same time Breck does.  The faintest smile curves Dad’s lip as he lowers his arm, “It looks like the two of you have a lot to talk about before the three of us talk.”

    “I want to get Emma out of Detroit, Mr. Jones.  You are welcome to fly back to Boston with us if you want.”  Breck tightens his grip around my shoulder, obviously questioning the motives behind what my father wants to discuss. 

   “Breck’s grandfather owns Dur Acier; the jet and the helicopter are here.  You can take whichever you like and meet us in Boston,” I offer, reassuring Breck that I’m going where he goes. 

   Justin is leaning against the wall, and I tense.  Breck feels the change in my body and drops his gaze to mine before following my line of sight.  His entire body stiffens, but he doesn’t say anything.  Dad nods his head and I’m beyond ready to leave, but our escape is delayed by some additional paperwork before the doors to the police department closes behind us. 

   The first half hour of the flight is mostly silent.  There’s some unspoken conversation passing between Breck and Gavin, and I’ve never seen Gavin quiet and pensive for this long.  Jess refuses to leave my side as she pulls my head down on her shoulder.  As mad at her as I am, I understand why she didn’t tell me what I now know. 

   I keep looking at Breck, unable to pull my eyes away from him. 

   “Go talk to him, Emma,” Jess suggests.

   I squeeze Jess’ hand before raising my head from her shoulder, and she gives me a weak smile, mouthing,
Go easy
.

   I nod before I reach across my seat, taking Breck’s hand and leading him to the plush bedroom on the Boeing.  When I close the door behind me, Breck tries to give his cocky grin, but I see the fear in his eyes, and it rips a hole in my heart.  He knows what I’m getting ready to ask and he’s scared he’s going to lose me. 

   “I read the police report; I know what happened when you were twelve, Breck, and I know what happened when you were fifteen.  I’m not going anywhere, but I need to hear it from you.”

   The pain in his eyes tears the damn hole bigger.  He sinks onto the bed, his elbows on
his knees, as he places his head in his hands and roughly rakes his fingers down his face, “I’m going to tell you, Emma, but before I do, I need to know that you are mine, always mine, from this moment on.” 

   I fall to my knees in front of him, placing my hands on his, “I was always yours to begin with, even before I met you, I just didn’t know it yet.”

   “Yes, you were,” he claims in between a growl and a groan as he grabs my arms, pulling me from the floor and possessing my lips, before he buries his head against my neck, “Do you have any idea how much I love you, Emma?”

   “I love you, too,” I breathe, running my fingers through his disheveled hair and across the dark stubble on his chin.  His contradictions continue to astound me.  He’s the fiercest man I’ve ever met but also the most gentle.  When he killed Liam and his men, I saw his raw savage side but, when he touched me, his touch was painstakingly gentle.  He took four lives without a second thought to save mine.  Softly, I pull away from him, the appeal in my eyes telling him it’s time. 

   “My uncle, Aaron, was a preacher,” Breck begins quietly, “I used to love hearing him prepare for his sermon when I was a kid.  My dad was Avery Ash.  He had a hard time keeping a job and he and my mom started fighting a lot when I was younger.  She had stayed home with me until I started school but then she took a job as a waitress. When dad would lose another job, she would work doubles, coming home exhausted.”  Breck rubs his hand down his face, his eyes sad, distant, when he looks at me. 

   I take his hand, holding it tightly, at a loss of how to ease his pain as he continues, “We were poor, Emma.  Living from pay check to pay check, always behind on rent and barely having enough food on the table, kind of poor.”

   Hearing that shocks me.  I know there are too many people in this situation but hearing Breck probably went hungry is just as heartbreaking as it is hard to comprehend, especially with everything he has now and with his grandfather.

   “Aaron came over one day, telling my dad that he talked with the manager at one of the factories and that he got him a job.  Mom was relieved, she was always so tired.  Dad seemed relieved, too, at first.  The job required him to work shifts, many times doubles, so he was away a lot.  Aaron would come over and check on mom and me, and his visits became more frequent.  When I was twelve, Aaron came over one day and mom packed a bag and left.”

   My mouth drops, anger and pain sear my words, “Your mother left you?”

“Not everyone has parents like yours, Emma,” he states, his words calm, sad, not accusing, just factual.  “She was gone for two days before Dad figured out that I was lying when I gave him some new excuse as to why she wasn’t home.  I thought that she would come back.  I really did.  I was just some dumb kid who didn’t want to see the truth.”

   “No you weren’t!” I cry, “you believed in your mom like any kid would have.”

   Breck squeezes my hand, and I can see the old ache piercing his eyes, “Several months later, she did come home but I hardly recognized her.  She was so thin and busted up.  When I opened the door, it took me a few seconds to realize she was my mother.  When Dad came to see who it was, I saw hate burning through him.  She asked him to let her stay, but he turned her away, telling her she made a choice and she would have to live with the consequences.”  Breck closes his eyes, “He told her that he was done.” 

   Unbelievable pain tears through my soul.  I’ve said those words to him.  Now I know why he reacted the way he did.  I want to hold him, to tell him that he doesn’t have to tell me anymore, but I don’t.  I place my hand against his cheek, and Breck covers it with his, pressing his hand tightly against mine.

   “I snuck out that night and walked nine miles to my uncles’ house.  I could hear him yelling at her before I made it to his yard.  I ran up the porch stairs and went inside.  He was too enraged to even notice me.  He had my mom by the hair, screaming in her face, and she was crying.  I saw the gun on the table, and when he hit her, I grabbed it.  I just wanted to scare him, to make him leave her alone.”  Breck’s voice breaks, slaying me, “I yelled at him to stop.  He turned towards me, still holding her hair, and he laughed.  He told me that she was his wife now and that she was to obey him, to submit, and he would teach her to if she didn’t.  He actually quoted scripture.  The bastard twisted everything to suit him, to justify his actions.”

   Tears fall down my cheeks as I watch Breck’s lip tremble. 

   “When he hit her again, I shot him in the leg.  Mom screamed, and Aaron grabbed a knife, holding it to her throat.  I yelled at him to drop the knife, but he pulled her hair harder and pressed the knife closer against her throat.  I thought he was going to kill her.”  Breck’s voice softens as his tears fall, “So, I killed him.”

   Throwing my arms around his neck, I pull him tightly against me, “It wasn’t your fault, Breck, it wasn’t your fault.” I feel him shaking and I hold him tighter. 

   Breck doesn’t respond, and I push away, the truth behind my gaze penetrating his, “You are not to blame.  You didn’t have a choice!”

   “We all have a choice, Emma.  That’s the one I chose to make and my mom paid for it.  She started screaming at me to get out.  I tried to comfort her, but she pushed me away, telling me to leave.  I didn’t know what to do.  I was angry, hurt, and fucking terrified, so I went outside. I stood there, waiting.  Waiting for the police to come and arrest me, waiting for mom to rush outside and pull me into her arms.  She never did.  I wasn’t outside longer than a few minutes when I heard another gun shot.  I ran back inside and saw my mom lying on the floor next to Aaron.” Breck’s voice is raw, broken, when he looks at me so full of despair, “I went to save my mom that night, but I killed her instead.”

  “NO!  No you didn’t, Breck!” I cry out, trying to pull him closer to me, but he pulls his arm away.

   I try to hold back my sobs when Breck drops his head, tears rolling down his face.  I want to be strong for him, but I don’t know how, so I just wrap myself around his shoulders and hold him.  Time is lost and nothing else exists as we stay tangled in each other’s arms. After awhile, Breck pulls away, grabbing me and pulling me onto his lap. He stares at me, his red, swollen eyes focusing on mine while his gaze softens.  Desperately, he crashes his lips against my mouth, and I kiss him back feverishly, giving him the absolution from me that he needs.  I feel how I soothe him, fuel him, and he kisses me harder.  I want to give him what he needs but
I’m
not what he needs right now.  He just thinks I am.  He keeps needing reassurance of something I can’t give.  I went about all of this so wrong.