Page 24 of Ashes

Once I’m inside my hotel room, my phone rings, and Malcolm’s name appears on the screen. I answer it quickly, eager to find out what he’s learned.

“Talk to me,” I say, pacing the room as I hold the phone to my ear.

“Rowen, I wanted to give you a heads up that I’m not the only one looking into fires today. Eli had Maverick pull the reports from that house fire a few months ago. I’m not sure why, but they’ve been huddled up working on something. Apparently, a mistake was made with one of the bodies identified.”

The hair on my arm raises. Fuck. Why the fuck would Eli be looking into the fire that we believed killed Tate? As far as I’m aware, he thinks she’s dead, so why is he looking into it?

Hopefully, he’s only searching for clues to connect that fire with the fire that claimed two of our businesses.

“Thanks for letting me know. What do you have on the Hollis’ and Adamsons?”

“Olivia Hollis, enrolled at Byer Elementary. Just turned ten years old and will be going into the fifth grade. Great student, straight A’s, perfect attendance. I reviewed her medical file from her doctor’s office. Rachel Hollis isnotthe biological mother of Olivia, but I’ve not been able to find any record of adoption.” I hear clicking in the background; he’s most likely reviewing the information on his computer. “The birth certificate at her school lists Rachel as the mother and someone nonexistent as the father. The birth certificate is fake, and I’m currently working on digging up the real one. That’ll take some more time.” He takes a breath. “As for Rachel Hollis, she was born with the name Angelina to parents Doug and Jasmine Miller. Both died in a car accident when she was eight. She lived with her grandmother until she died of cancer when Angelina was sixteen. She was placed in foster care for two years, and during that time, the poor girl had twenty-seven hospital visits. Broken arm, leg, nose, all kinds of shit,” he says with a sigh.

“Once she reached eighteen, she filed for a change of name, officially becoming Rachel Hollis, and that’s where the trail on her ends. There’s no record of employment, no lease, no bank accounts, nothing. There is no life under the name Rachel Hollis. She did volunteer at a youth center for foster children several years ago, but one day, she stopped showing up.”

“This is great. Thanks, Malcolm.”

“Now, for the Adamsons…” Excitement fills his voice now. “Willa and Bill Adamson were licensed foster parents who fostered children for nearly twenty years before they died in an accidental house fire that was started by a candle. During that time, they did not have any foster children in their care. Their twenty-one-year-old son, Colton, was home visiting from Harvard University and was killed along with his parents.” He’s not telling me anything I don’t already know about them.

“Do they have any relatives?”

“Willa had a sister named Mariah Winters Jackson. She died years ago after she hit her head due to a fall down the stairs.”

“Her last name was Jackson?” Alarm bells begin to go off in my head.

“Yes, she married James Jackson, and they had one child. A son named—"

“Ace,” I cut him off before he has the chance to finish.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Malcolm says. “There’s no record whatsoever on Ace Jackson, so I’m going to find out what I can about Ace through his father. It looks like his father’s still living in the same home where his wife died and remarried for the third time.” A sound of disgust comes from him. “This third wife is the daughter of his second wife. His former stepdaughter. His second wife died in a car accident, and nine months later, he married his eighteen-year-old stepdaughter, and they now have two children.”

“Disgusting motherfucker.” I shake my head. “Find out whatever else you can and call me back.”

“You got it.” Malcolm ends the call with a click, just as a knock sounds on my door.

Standing, I walk toward it and open it, spreading my arms out when I see King’s tear-stained face.

“Brother.” He steps into my arms, wrapping his around my waist. When we break apart, he follows me into the room until I can close the door.

“Oh, Rowen.” He grabs me again and cries into my neck, fisting my shirt. On the outside, King looks tough and edgy as fuck, but on the inside, he’s a giant fucking teddy bear who’s sensitive and has so many emotions that he’s not always capable of handling. He’s sensitive, something Eli and I are completely aware of and know exactly how to handle.

I stroke his back with one hand and use the other to stroke his shoulder-length dirty blond hair. We remain like that until his sobbing stops, then he pulls away and allows me to wipe his face dry.

With a sigh, he presses his forehead against mine, exhaling slowly, his minty breath fanning against my lips.

“My butterfly kept a secret from me. We shared so much, and she failed to tell me she has a child.”

“She gave the baby to someone else to raise. Maybe that’s why she didn’t say anything. The girl has a mother.”

“But we could’ve helped her raise the girl.”

“King, the girl has a mother. What would you have done if she had told you? Take the girl away from the only mother she knows? Make her live with strangers?”

He ponders my words for a moment, then closes his eyes. “You’re right. I just hate that there are things I never knew about her.”

“Let’s relax. We both need to calm down, breathe, and relax.”

He lifts his head, his hands on my hips. “You’re right. Let’s relax.” His lips crash against mine, my cock instantly coming to life and pushing against the zipper of my jeans. “Fuck, I need your mouth around me. That should help me feel better,” he says with a groan, his hands pulling at my shirt until it’s being thrown to the floor.

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