6. Ember
CHAPTER 6
EMBER
HURT – JOHNNY CASH
Flying across the Atlantic Ocean is a lot more fun than being nearly frozen to death in a shipping container. Though I’m not accustomed to private flights, and being fussed over the whole twelve hours has worn on my nerves.
Changing into the plain black leggings and thick, grey sweater Warner flourished from a packed bag, I try to tame my hair in the bathroom mirror. We’re landing shortly.
The clean red strands flow to my mid-back in lightly curling waves. There’s no hiding the dyed blonde tips that have grown out. I hate how seeing them make me feel.
“Get it together,” I berate my battered reflection. “You’re going home.”
I don’t need anyone to spot just how broken I feel inside. How stray memories of fights, punishments and dark days spent starving in a cage float back into my mind when I least expect them.
More importantly, I don’t want anyone to ever find out the price I paid for surviving the fight clubs. How weak my mind and body have become as a result. I can’t handle concern or pity.
Axel came close to discovering my secret last night when he knocked on my door after I came back around. The black out episodes hit infrequently, but each attack is physically exhausting.
I don’t know what it is. Sometimes my head splits open, and the world vanishes until I come to, my limbs locked tight. But the thought of admitting to anyone that they happen is abhorrent.
Weakness gets you killed.
They have to remain a secret.
“Em?” There’s a tap on the door. “Landing in five. You need to take your seat.”
“Gotcha.”
Clenching my jaw, I resume rebuilding my mental brick wall. The same wall that kept me alive while other women were violated and sold to the highest bidder. The wall that kept me sane.
I can’t let it tumble down now. I’ve paid in blood, sweat and endless screams to get to this moment. In a matter of minutes, I’ll step foot back in England and see my big brother again.
It doesn’t matter what I’ve done.
Now I can forget it all.
Quickly plaiting my long locks to conceal the blonde tips as best as possible, I tie off the braid then take a final glance. The vivid purple bruising is still horrific, but I can tentatively open my eye now.
Warner taps again. “Sorry, Em. The captain is insisting.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
I’m not sure what he would say if he knew where Axel slept last night. Warner’s barely let me out of his sight since I revealed enough of my story to get him off my back.
When I woke up to voices calling my name, Axel’s presence in the bed was gone. All that remained was a cold cavern in the mattress to prove it wasn’t all some delirious, post black out dream.
“Hi.” I step out of the bathroom to find him waiting. “I was just getting cleaned up.”
“You look good.” Warner smiles. “Did what the Falcon Team packed for you fit okay? Tom gave them your rough sizes.”
Truthfully, the sizing is a little off. My body has changed since I last stepped foot in this country. I’ve always been fit, but my slight curves now boast hard, visible muscles.
“It’ll do. Thanks.”
He rubs a hand over the scruff on his chin. “Listen. I can hold our superiors off until you’ve rested, but we’ll need to bring you into HQ for questioning.”
“I figured.”
“I’m sorry.” His mouth quirks. “It’s my job, Em.”
When he smiles, Warner’s entire demeanour transforms. He’s a handsome man—slim but muscular with firm shoulders, evenly proportioned features and intense baby blues that radiate warmth.
As a kid, I had the stupidest crush on him. He was the cute, friendly boy from down the street who spent more time at our house than his. Plus, he paid attention to me. Made me feel special.
It didn’t take long for those first innocent feelings to bubble up. The older boy with all his burgeoning muscles and thoughtful, caring questions. How could I not fall for him?
As we both grew older, the unwritten rules of our friendship put a stop to those feelings. He’s Tom’s best friend. For that reason, our relationship has always been strictly platonic.
“Always so dutiful,” I joke.
“I’m kinda straddling two horses in this race. I have a job to do, but I’m your friend too, Em. No one is going to rush you while you’re settling back in and healing.”
“As much as I appreciate your care, there are others out there who need to be helped. I’ll tell you everything I know if you can catch the motherfuckers hurting those innocent women.”
Warner nods. “I won’t stop until I do.”
“Promise?”
He sticks out a curved pinkie finger. “You know I always keep my word.”
“You do. That’s why I’m asking for it.”
“Then yes. I promise.”
Hooking our fingers together, we seal the deal. Having the reassurance that he’ll keep fighting for me and all the others victimised by Gael’s enterprise relieves a crushing weight.
“God.” A rush of overwhelming anxiety engulfs me. “I can’t believe I’m going home.”
“Hey.” Warner tugs me into a bear hug. “It’s going to be okay.”
His chin nestles against my head as I snuggle into his broad chest. Despite being smaller than Hyland’s towering form, Warner packs the same bulk as Axel and can easily handle himself.
I’ve never hugged him for long enough to categorise his scent before. It’s a fresh, intoxicating blend of patchouli and pine, the combination taking me to a mountainous forest retreat.
“We’ll get justice.” His hand lightly circles my back, careful not to press on my bruises. “For you and everyone else that son of a bitch has hurt.”
Reluctantly extricating myself from his warmth, I plaster on a strained smile. It needs to stay on until I’m alone again and can deal with the trauma clouding my mind.
“Thanks for coming to get me.”
Warner fiddles with a loose strand of his salt-and-pepper hair. “You can stop thanking me now. Just doing my?—”
“Job,” I finish for him. “I know. Still, I’m glad it was you.”
“Me too, Em.”
His silver-dotted streaks have grown in the past six years. He’s one of the few men who looks better with a bit of distinguished grey. Truthfully, he’s even more attractive now than before.
Aside from the physical changes of his thirties wearing on, Warner is exactly the same as when he was Langley, the top-secret agent building a pillow fort with me while Tom cared for our ailing mother.
That empathetic boy grew into a caring, loyal man who has given his entire life to helping others. In every case he takes on, Warner finds a lost cause to help. I just never thought I’d be one of them.
“Let’s take our seats. A welcoming committee awaits.”
“Great.” I heave a weary breath.
“Now, now. Everyone’s glad to see you home.”
“I know. It’s just a lot.”
“You’re not alone, Em. We’re going to get through this.”
Nodding, I pat his arm. “Thank you.”
He flashes me another smile. “I’ve got you.”
Shuffling back to the main cabin of Sabre’s jet, I gaze over what is a masterclass in simple elegance. With glossy oak panelling, plush leather seats and a fully-stocked bar, I’ve never experienced such luxury before.
Setting up my own business was a huge financial investment. I’m far from rich. I used my inheritance and an extortionate bank loan, refusing to take any money from Tom’s deep pockets.
I feel eyes on me when I shakily retake my seat. Hyland is back to his silent brooding, a persistent glower fixed in place. Not even his snoring competition last night seems to have cured his foul mood.
“Better?” Axel asks me.
“Yep.” I avoid looking at his grin.
“Good. It’s home time, baby!”
“I can’t quite believe it.”
“You better start believing it!” he whoops.
He’s been unashamedly staring at me since I emerged from the motel room hours earlier. For a man who didn’t stick around for the awkward wake up, he seems determined to let me know he’s constantly watching.
Buckled in, my grip on the leather arms is white-knuckled. The farther we descend, the more my gut twists into a wringing knot. This is the closest I’ve gotten to returning home since I was taken.
It still doesn’t feel real.
London’s expansive, urban skyline is a familiar sight out of the small window. I visited Tom regularly when he moved to the capital to pursue his career. Though our lives went in different directions, we remained very close.
Towering steel skyscrapers that look like they were hand carved by the gods themselves dominate the landscape. This is an impressive city. England’s crowning jewel in all its glittering glory.
It’s also an anarchistic cesspit. London’s shadowy streets operate under their own laws. While politicians debate legislation in Whitehall, gangs and organised crime families run rife.
“Home sweet home.” Axel’s nose is pressed against his window. “Never thought I’d be so happy to see this fucking place.”
“Honestly? Same,” Warner replies.
“Of course, it’s raining, though.”
“It’s England,” Hyland retorts.
“But in May? Seriously? I want some sunshine.”
“Be glad it’s not snowing or something equally crazy.” Warner distractedly rubs his right thigh. “I need to get this damn leg off.”
I can just about see the shiny metal ankle joint of his leg sticking out of his trousers. He’s dressed smartly for the big reunion, but the Warner I know is far more at home in sweats or shorts.
“Still overwearing the prosthetic?” I watch him cringe.
“No.”
Hyland catches my eye across the jet and mouths the word lie. I smirk back at him.
“Saw that,” Warner mutters.
“Don’t lie then, boss.”
“I’ll do as I damn well please.”
When the jet touches down, a seismic judder of nerves rattle through me. This private section of the airport appears quiet, blocked off by huge, slate-grey hangars and ground staff wearing hi-vis jackets.
After the jet finishes taxiing, the guys begin gathering their bags, waving off the attendants who rush to assist them. None of them seem comfortable with the private jet lifestyle. It feels like more of a necessity than a choice.
With nothing to carry, I check that the laces on the brand-new trainers I'm wearing are tight then work on stiffly lifting myself up again. My aching muscles and bruised body are humming with pain.
Familiar dizziness and a dull throbbing in my head accompany me as I slowly follow them to the front. Axel is vibrating with excitement while he waits for steps to be attached.
“First thing’s first, I’m gonna eat twelve of Mary’s bagels,” he announces. “Then take a fifty-hour nap before going back for another twelve bagels.”
“Fifty hours?” Hyland snorts.
“Dude, I was serious about missing my bed. I’m never leaving it again.”
“You have work to do.” Warner lingers behind them so I’m not alone. “I’ll allow you one bagel and a change of clothes.”
“One? That’s a human rights violation!”
“I’ll give you a human rights violation.” Hyland wraps a massive paw around Axel’s neck then squeezes. “Just keep whining like a little bitch.”
“Get off! I’m still on duty. If my knife slips into your ribcage, it’s a workplace accident.”
“Not when the boss overhears you plotting my death it isn’t, pup.”
“For the last time, choose a new fucking nickname!”
“Nah. You like it too much.”
The clank of steps being attached to the jet precedes the hostess opening the door. Hyland pushes past Axel to step out first, carrying two backpacks on his shoulders and a duffel in his hands.
Still grumbling, Axel follows with his laptop tucked under his arm and an equipment bag in hand. When it’s time for me to follow, I can’t seem to get my feet to respond.
Anxiety is worsening my ever-present headache, making me feel weak and unsteady. I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I’m struggling to hold it together.
“Em?”
“What if… He doesn’t recognise me?” I fret.
Warner spares me an assessing look. “You haven’t changed that much. The old hair’s kinda strange, but I’m used to it now.”
“I’m not talking about my appearance.”
“Then what?” Warner urges.
“It’s just… I’m not the same person I used to be. I’ve changed.”
“I still see little Em Lawson beneath those scars.”
“You’re not my brother.”
Warner pauses, his eyes darting around like he’s searching for the right words. “Tom will see that too. Give him a chance before letting your fear win.”
“Shit. Did you gain another fifty IQ points while I was gone?”
He laughs at my crappy joke. “I know my best friend. He loves the bones of you, and nothing will ever change that.”
“Okay.” I heave in a final breath for courage. “Let’s do this.”
“After you.”
Lips pressed together, I step out into the drizzly London air. The fresh, chilled breeze feels like heaven pouring into my nostrils after dealing with nonstop heat and humidity for so long.
Hyland and Axel are already heading towards three blacked-out SUVs parked next to the runway, still trading barbs. A tall, pale man running past them quickly captures my attention.
His long strides seem to be fuelled by sheer urgency, an invisible voice screaming at him to close the physical distance between us. My chest is unbearably heavy with the same frantic desire.
“Ember!”
Tom’s voice cuts through my startled daze.
“Em!”
His yells cause the searing sensation in the back of my eyes to surge forward, forcing moisture to spill onto my cheeks in dribbling rivulets.
“Em!” he repeats in a rush.
Time freezes.
My heart pounds.
Head spins.
Limbs twitch and tense.
At the feel of Warner nudging my lower back, I break free long enough to launch myself down the metal steps. My breaths come in short pants, making my heart throb harder.
“Tom!” I shout back.
The agonising moments between half-running, half-limping towards my brother and being wrapped up in his arms stretch infinitely. Each second is elongated by grief-tinged catharsis.
Then I’m trapped against his tall frame. Wrapped up in peppermint-scented warmth that’s so familiar, it intensifies my cries. I’m convinced I’ll startle awake, and he won’t even be real.
“Oh my God.” He crushes me to his body, nose pushing into my hair. “You’re here.”
“T-Tom,” I wheeze.
“Yeah, trouble. It’s me.”
Wrestling the back of his polo, I twist the expensive cotton. Too many words to count flash over my tongue without materialising. All I can think about are the nights I spent begging the silent darkness for this moment right here.
Through every last match and the endless beatings, the times I wanted a killer blow to end it all so I could finally be free… I thought of him. My big brother. My family. Home. He kept me alive.
“Oh, Em. It’s okay.”
The sob building in my chest feels like it’s going to rip me in half. “You’re here.”
“I am.” He inhales me deeply. “I’m here.”
After all that time spent piecing my brick wall together, it comes crashing down at the strong pressure of my brother holding me close. The avalanche sweeps me off my feet in an instant.
“I d-didn’t think I’d s-see you again.”
“I know, Em. I know.”
“I-I tried to be hopeful, to hold on… I tried so h-hard…”
He presses a hard kiss against my head. “I’m so thankful you kept going. I knew you’d come home.”
Letting his shirt bear the brunt of my pouring eyes, I don’t let go of him until the hysterics subside. I’m not allowing myself more than a brief meltdown. Not now that I’ve gotten what I wanted all along.
Releasing his shirt, I take a long look up at my brother’s face. His stubbled cheeks are soaked with tears, spilling from his glistening emerald eyes. Tom is always slick, freshly shaven and dressed to the nines.
Today, his artfully cut, auburn hair is sticking up haphazardly, matching his unshaven face and painfully enlarged eye bags. Hell, I haven’t seen him in a polo and not a dress shirt since we were kids.
“You look rough,” I croak wetly.
He swipes his arm across his ghostly face. “I could say the same about you. Jesus Christ, Em.”
“It looks worse than it is.”
“Heard that one before.” His mouth crinkles into a worried line. “We’re going straight to the hospital.”
“No! Warner checked me over. I’m alright.”
“I don’t care.”
Looking over at the sound of approaching footsteps, Tom breaks out in a smile for his approaching best friend. I stand alone while they exchange a long, back-slapping hug.
“Good to see you back in the country.”
“Good to be back,” Warner replies brightly. “Just delivering one baby sister, as promised.”
Tom clasps his forearm, using his other hand to swipe beneath his eyes again. He’s always been the more emotional of us. Though I feel like I’m catching up to him now.
“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for finding her.”
Releasing him, Warner’s smile falters. “Wish I could take the credit.”
“What?” Tom glances between us.
“It’s a long story, but we should get out of here first.” He pats my brother’s hand to reassure him. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
Stepping away, Tom returns to my side so he can steady me. “She needs to go to the hospital first.”
“I said I’m good,” I grouse.
Both eye me sceptically.
“Cut it out! All I need is a hot shower, a banana milkshake and three double cheeseburgers.”
Warner splutters a short, amused chuckle. “You didn’t eat on the jet. Now you want three cheeseburgers?”
“Three doubles, actually. I was saving room for what I’m craving.”
Doors slam behind us as the guys finish loading up their gear. I can feel eyes on me from across the tarmac where Hyland and Axel now wait, both leaning against their SUV.
“Well, looks like the lady has spoken.” Warner surprises me with a good-humoured wink. “Come on, Tom. Let’s feed the beast before she has a full meltdown.”
“But—”
“Cheeseburgers,” I insist. “No hospital.”
He wearily shakes his head. “I was hoping your stubbornness had mellowed.”
“Keep dreaming, bro.”
All laughing, I snuggle into Tom when he bands his arm around my middle. His smell is a pure slice of home—old, legal textbooks and fresh peppermint toothpaste.
I’m really here.
I’m safe.
I’m free.
Not even the bloodthirsty whispers growing louder in the back of my mind can convince me otherwise. I survived the cartel. I don’t need violence to protect me anymore.
Now… I just want it.