Page 52 of Ashes

“I was trying to get some relief,” I murmured, dazed as the flames were drowned by the shower, my high deflating. “I don’t ruin your high.”

“I don’t try to burn the damn house down either,” he shot back, his gray eyes flashing at me. “What the fuck? You’re supposed to be the strong one. You’re the one we count on to hold your shit together. Don’t fucking slip, man. Not right now.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he stared at me. “Come on. Please.”

I tore my gaze away from the now dead, waterlogged fire and sighed.

“I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have let go like that. I’m just worried.”

“I know,” he said, frowning. “I’m sorry too.”

“Why are you sorry? You’re not the one who set the tub on fire. Church is going to punch me in the throat when he gets back. I promised no more fires in the house.”

Sin sighed. “I’m sure he’ll overlook it. Everett is here.”

I blinked at him. “His dad came?”

Sin nodded. “Yeah. Made an appearance because of Stitches I suspect. He’s his guardian and all that.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. “I didn’t know he was here.”

“I only found out because I saw him in the hall with Church earlier.” Sin walked out of the bathroom, and I followed him to my room. He sank down onto my computer chair and rubbed his eyes.

I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at him for a moment.

“Are you OK? You’ve been gone a lot lately,” I said softly.

I needed to open the windows. The stench of the fire still hung thick in the air, but at least the smoke alarm had stopped blaring.

He shrugged and studied the floor.

“You can talk to me. You know you can.”

“I don’t have anything to say, man. I’m just worried about Stitches.”

“And Sirena?”

He was quiet for a moment. “I-I can’t worry about her.”

“You can, Sin. You can let out your emotions—”

“No, I fucking can’t, Asher!” he snapped at me. “It’s not that fucking easy for me. I can’t just set a fire and feel better. If I let myself feel, I’d burn up like the fucking shit you set on fire in there. It would kill me.” He pounded his fist on his chest. “I can’t let this shit consume me because it would end me. You need to understand that. I’m already struggling.” His voice cracked, and he quickly looked away from me. “I just. . . I just want to forget. Float away. Be someone else for a fucking change. I-I wish I’d died when my father shot me.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “So I didn’t have to hurt. Be afraid.Feel.”

“What are you afraid of?” I watched as he continued to scowl at the floor.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Losing what’s important to me. Fucking up.”

“Stitches is OK,” I said. “He’ll be out soon—”

“And then what?” He fixed his gray eyes on me. “What happens if he tries again? Because it’s fucking Malachi, man. You know how he is when he falls. He tumbles in an endless, black abyss. What if he can’t come back this time? What if he feels how I feel and just doesn’t fucking want to keep going?”

My heart constricted.

“I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Sin shook his head, his blond hair loose around his shoulders and falling forward. “I don’t want to lose you either, but I’m scared I already have.”

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