Page 95 of Pieces of Ash
Please let me have this one, tiny piece of happiness.
Teagan
Chapter 17
Ashley
Iam lying on my bed, my eyes so swollen from crying, I can barely see the words.
Father Joseph is dead, and my mother was not only in love with my stepbrother, but it appears that she engaged in a full-blown affair with him that started years ago.
…and this gives me a possible motive for her sudden and suspicious death.
My chest tightens, and I lay my hand over my heart.
I knew that Mosier was a bad man. But to kill my mother? To kill Father Joseph? A woman—hiswife—and a priest? He is worse than I ever imagined, and it makes my blood run cold. I draw my knees to my chest and hold them, crunching my body into a fetal position and trying to get warm even though it’s a mild evening.
Why my response to Gus’s tragic news was to come up here and read my mother’s journal is a question I can’t answer. Maybe to find comfort. Maybe to wallow in more misery.
It’s been an hour since the Uber came to the house to take Gus home, and since then, Julian’s been out in the barn. I’ve been curled up in bed, reading Tig’s diary and wondering how my life ended up here.
“Father Joseph,” I say, more tears sliding down my cheeks to dampen my pillow. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, s-so s-sorry if I b-brought d-death to your d-door.”
“You didn’t,” says Julian’s voice from the doorway of my room.
I gasp in surprise, so relieved to see him, and reach out my arms to him without thinking. He crosses the room and sits down on my bed, across from me, concern and sorrow etched into his handsome features.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says, holding my eyes with his as he gently cradles my face in his hands.
My shoulders shake with sobs, and I lower my head. He releases my face, and I hear him lie down, depressing the mattress with his weight. A second later, he pulls me to his chest as he sits with his back against the headboard. I cry against his chest, wrapping my arms around him as he hugs me close to him.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, baby.”
He says it over and over again as he holds me, rubbing my back and occasionally dropping kisses to the top of my head.
“This all started long before you, sweet girl,” he whispers. “Listen to me, it’s not your fault.”
“B-but if I had j-just…j-j-just…”
“Just what? Allowed yourself to be married off to a monster?” An edge has crept into the soothing timbre of his voice. “Let him buy you? Own you? Breed you?” I hear his disgust, and it resonates with me because I feel it too. “No, baby. That’s not your life. That’s someone else’s version of your life. Youneveragreed to that.”
“D-do you think he k-killed F-Father J-J?—”
“I don’t know,” he says, taking a deep breath that I can feel under my cheek. “The timing doesn’t look good, though.”
“He was only t-talking t-to Mosier for m-me, Julian!” I lean up, looking into his eyes. “It was m-my fault!”
“NO!” he bellows. “It wasn’t!” He cups my face, his eyes fierce as they stare deeply into mine. “Itwasn’tyour fault. Not even a little bit. Tell me you get that. Tell me you understand that.”
I scan his eyes, back and forth, seeing the truth in them, and desperately wanting to trust it.
“Tell me, Ashley, because guilt over something like this is too heavy to bear. It’s too heavy to carry.”
“B-but if it’s m-mine…,” I sob, reaching up to cover his hands with mine.
“It’snot,” he says, his own eyes filling with tears. “It’s not, baby. It’s not your fault.”
“It’s…n-not my f-fault,” I murmur.
