Page 100 of Ashes

“Do you guys know how Asylum hurt his wrists?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t know he had.”

“He has scars. I saw them today in the woods. On his wrists.”

“Maybe he’s a cutter,” I said, grimacing. I cast a quick look to Sin to see him frowning.

“I’ve never seen scars on his wrists,” Sin said. “Not that I’ve spent a lot of time looking though.”

Church grunted but didn’t say anything else.

We stopped in front of Stitches’s door. Again, we let Church go first.

He peered through the window for a moment before Stitches’s dark hair came into view. Church pressed his hand to the window. Stitches’s tatted hand met his, trembling on the glass.

I swallowed hard, my heart in my damn throat.

He was responsive.

“You’ll come home soon, brother,” Church called out.

The room was soundproof though. I knew Stitches couldn’t hear him.

“Soon, Malachi. I’ll get you out of here. I love you. Stay strong. Fuck, stay strong.” Church stayed at the window for a long time before I moved forward to see Stitches’s dark eyes peering back at me.

A look of pure, heart wrenching sadness was on his face, a bandage covering the side of his head yet.

He appeared thinner. Gaunt. Sick. His eyes were bloodshot, and his dark hair hung limply.

He mouthed my name, a tear snaking down his cheek.

And a sentence I could make out plain as day.

I’m sorry.

“Stitches,” Sin murmured, looking into the window with us. “Fuck, man.”

“We’ll get him out. He’s coming home,” Church choked out. “We just. . . I don’t know. We have to get them out. I just don’t know how. What the fuck do we do?”

Church looked at me, turmoil on his face. I knew how he felt. There’d never been a situation we couldn’t figure out. Even with Isabella, we’d overcome. But this? Fuck.

“I don’t know. Your father could take them,” I said thickly. “And then. . .”

“No. No.” Church turned back to Stitches. “No. We won’t let him take him. We just. . . fuck. FUCK!”

Stitches wept on the other side of the glass as Church continued to hold his hand against Stitches’s through the clear pane.

“Keep holding on. We’ll be back. We’ll get this sorted.”

It was almost like Stitches could hear Church. He nodded, his face damp with tears.

“Soon,” I said, resting my hand over Church’s. “Soon, man. We’ll figure it out.”

Stitches nodded again before his hand fell away, and he took a step back from the door. It was tearing my heart apart to witness him like this. He’d always been so strong and so full of life. This was a shell of him.

I hated it. God, I hated it.

“We need to go before Sully finds us,” Sin urged softly. “It could end badly for Stitches if we’re caught. If he tells you father. . .”

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