29. Asher
TWENTY-NINE
ASHER
The scent of burning flesh isn’t easily forgotten. Neither is the taste of blood. It stays with you, sinking into your every memory. Over the years, I’ve found myself dreaming of that night. Flashes of Trevor Keeler’s venomous face hovering above mine, his red eyes piercing me. The metallic taste of my own blood on my tongue, filling my mouth. Then I’m standing in front of my trailer, emblazoned and burning. I stay where I am, grounded to the dirt, my feet unwilling to move. My mother is trapped inside, screaming my name to come and save her, but all I do is stand there, frozen against the glow of fire, breathing in the smoke.
Smoke fills my lungs, and I cough, unable to inhale a clean breath. I’m starving for oxygen, and it paralyzes me.
“Asher!” My mother screams from behind the thin, metal storm door.
My chest squeezes, and I try to lift my arm to reach out to her but can’t.
Suddenly, my eyes snap open.
Wide eyed, I find myself in Charleigh’s bed. She’s turned her back to me, and my arm is draped over her naked body .
I breathe in, but I choke. For a moment, I wonder if I’m still trapped in my dream but I’m not. Smoke floats over Charleigh’s body in the moonlight, and I cough again. I shoot up from the bed, shaking Charleigh in the process.
“Charleigh,” I choke. I cover my mouth with my arm and dart my eyes to the bedroom door.
A bright orange glow flickers at the end of the hall, toward the front of Charleigh’s apartment.
“Charleigh.” I shake her. “Get up.”
She stirs, and when she coughs, she shoots straight up. She twists in the bed to face me, waving her hand. “What is happening?”
“I think your apartment is on fire,” I say, a chill prickling down my spine. “Come on.”
The both of us hop out of bed, and Charleigh quickly slips into a pair of shorts and grabs my shirt off the floor, slipping her arms into it, only fastening the first two buttons. I hastily step back into my boxer briefs, not caring that I’m practically naked.
I’m stuck in this nightmare again. Panic sets in, and my chest feels hollow, slowly filling with smoke.
I swipe my phone from the nightstand and grab Charleigh’s hand, pulling her out into the hallway, only to stop when I see my mother lying in the hallway. She’s on her back, her eyes closed, caked in dried mascara. An empty bottle of whiskey rests in her hand, a puddle of brown liquid pooled underneath her. The flames coming from the front of Charleigh’s apartment dance across her lifeless body.
“Asher!” Charleigh yells beside me. I snap my head to the left. She’s using the collar of my shirt to cover her mouth.
I blink and quickly glance back down the hallway, the blood draining down to my feet. My mother is gone. I swallow my nerves, hoping the fire isn’t out of control. I swing my attention back to Charleigh.
“What do we do?” she asks, panicked.
I cover my mouth with my arm, ignoring the scars on my bicep from the last fire I survived.
“We need to see if we can get out the front door,” I tell her.
Smoke slithers down the hallway, clouding my view of Charleigh even though she’s standing in front of me.
“If not, there’s a fire escape outside the living room window!” Charleigh yells back, coughing after every other word.
“Okay, come on.” I squeeze her hand. The smoke stings my eyes, and I try to blink it away.
Charleigh follows my lead as I turn the corner, the living room coming into view. Flames cover the sofa situated in front of the window, blocking the fire escape. Every piece of furniture is engulfed in fire, even the plants Charleigh has placed in nearly every corner of the apartment. Angry red and orange flames threaten to catch onto the curtains lining the front windows. Shards of glass stick out from one of the panes of the wide-open window. The blazing flames rage, building faster than my mind has a chance to catch up to what’s happening.
I yell over my shoulder. “The fire escape is blocked by the fire!” Dialing 911, I raise my phone to my ear.
“911, what is your emergency?” The man on the other end asks.
I open my mouth to answer but stop when an eerie feeling washes over me.
“Cyrus.” I feel Charleigh stiffen as her hand grips onto mine, her nails digging into my skin.
I look at her eyes before turning back around, following her what has her attention.
When I turn around, I find Cyrus standing by the front door. With narrowed eyes peeking through his swollen, round face, he glares at Charleigh and me with an expression full of hatred and darkness.
The glint of the silver lighter in his hand flashes in the bright glow of the fire. He flicks the lighter with his fingers, constantly popping the top up, the metal clinking over the sound of the fire. A cloud of smoke shields him from complete view, but his expression is unmistakable.
“Hello?” The man on the phone says. “This is 911. What is your emergency?”
“I think you’ll find it in your best interest to hang up right now,” Cyrus bellows, lifting his chin.
I tighten my grip, fear settling into my bones. “Hello?” the man repeats in my ear.
Cyrus’s jaw tightens, and his brow furrows.
Swallowing thickly, I lower my phone with a shaky hand. It slips from my fingers and falls to the floor beside my feet.
“Good boy.” Cyrus sneers.
Goddamn motherfucker.
I curl my fingers into a fist at my sides.
My heart thumps in my chest, raging against my ribs, and my mind dances, figuring out how I’m going to get us out of here safely.
I swing my attention to the flames now crawling up Charleigh’s green, velvet curtains.
“There’s no one to pull you out of the fire this time,” Cyrus yells over the flames.
My stomach flips.
The room is quickly filling with smoke, and Charleigh hasn’t stopped coughing since we stepped out into the hallway.
I squeeze her hand and talk to her over my shoulder. “Keep your shirt sleeve over your mouth.”
She nods and lifts her wrist to her mouth, placing the white ends of my sleeves to cover her nose and in a makeshift mask.
“What do you want from me?” I ask Cyrus, shooting him a glare and pinning him with daggers.
“I want your fucking attention,” he barks.
“Is that why you broke into my apartment?” I ask, coughing and stepping farther into the living room. “To get my attention?”
I stick close to the kitchen island, keeping one eye on Cyrus and the other on the fire raging on the other side of the living room. It’s getting dangerously close to where we are. Charleigh’s hand slips from mine, but she remains close, stepping into the kitchen.
“That means you got my little note, then, didn’t you?” Cyrus curls his lip.
“What did you mean?” I ask, lifting my chin. “Like father, like son?”
“Your father fucked his clients.” He quirks a brow, scoffing. “The women, at least. I was skeptical of some of his male clients, but who honestly knows what lengths your father was willing to go for money and power?”
I swallow, wondering why my father never mentioned his past with Cyrus, knowing I was coming here for work. Perhaps he thought Cyrus wasn’t a legitimate business threat any longer since it’s been over twenty years since they worked in the same city. Perhaps he didn’t even know about this feud. Although I haven’t known my father my whole life, I don’t believe Cyrus. My father isn’t the kind of man to fuck everyone over. His years of sending money, despite my mother’s mismanagement of it, is proof he has integrity.
“You’re a liar,” I boldly tell him, steeling my chest. “And I don’t fuck my clients.” I shouldn’t press him when he has the power, but I can’t help it. His lies about my father, and me, are getting under my skin .
Cyrus laughs manically; his attention now focused on Charleigh. “What about this little slut, then, huh? Explain her.”
Charleigh freezes, and her eyes widen, her eyebrows pulling together. She’s terrified, and every instinct in my body is yelling at me to save her, to protect her. I don’t want her to end up with the same fate as my mother, trapped inside with no way out. Me being at fault.
Watching her now, I know I wouldn’t survive without her. A life without Charleigh isn’t a life at all. I’ve done it once before, and I was nothing but a hollow human being. I’d die right along with her.
Charleigh slinks closer to the end of the island, to the side Cyrus can see, her eyes constantly bouncing between us and the counter. I follow her attention, catching sight of my letter on the countertop where we left it earlier. She glances at Cyrus quickly before swiping it up in her free hand.
“Explain, motherfucker!” Cyrus bellows.
Charleigh shudders, jumping and lowering her hand holding my letter to her side.
The fire has spread, growing dangerously close. Heat pricks my skin, and I step closer to the kitchen. I grind my jaw, my impatience growing thin. We don’t have time for this.
“I don’t have to explain shit to you,” I bark back. “Move out of the way, and we won’t turn you in.”
Cyrus laughs, rolling his head back, then wiping his chin with his round fingers. “You think I don’t already know the police are on their way? They tracked you the minute you didn’t respond to that call.” His eyes darken. “We aren’t going anywhere.”
My stomach sinks, and I’m sick.
“What do you want from me, then?” I ask, giving in, playing along .
“I want you to admit the truth.” He growls. “I want you to have a backbone where your father didn’t.”
I swallow, my breaths shallow, nervous with what Cyrus wants me to say.
A spine-tingling chill slinks down my back.
“I caught your father fucking one of his clients when I followed him one day. It’s how I knew he would cheat to win and how I knew you would, too. I’ve lost out on millions of dollars because of you Egans.” Cyrus spits. “Then when this whore stopped returning my calls, I remembered her mentioning you before, and I knew. I overheard her friend mention you on the phone, then I followed you to her shop and caught you fucking her in the back room.” His gaze darts to Charleigh before he turns his daggered eyes on me. “But that wasn’t the first time, was it? You already knew what her dirty little cunt tasted like.”
I grind my jaw, certain I’ve cracked a few teeth. Fucking, creeper.
“Fuck you, Cyrus.” My vision turns red, and I lunge forward, tackling him.
Charleigh’s screams filter over the sound of crackling flames. The smoke swells, and I’m weakened by it. The second I land on top of Cyrus it takes a moment for me to catch my breath. I cough, wanting to inhale a clean air, but I can’t. My throat tightens and my lungs burn.
Keeping Cyrus pinned to the floor, I glance over my shoulder long enough to shout to Charleigh. “Get out of here, Charleigh! Now!”
I’m unsure whether she’s heard me between Cyrus’s grunting and my tight throat.
Then Charleigh’s sprinting down the hallway. She picks up my phone from the floor and runs back toward me.
“Asher!” she yells, her eyes darting over my shoulder. I look back down at Cyrus beneath me but am knocked off balance. His fist connects with my jaw so hard, I fall back. My spine slams into the floor, and flames rage beside my head. I turn and look, scrambling to back away. The heat is intense, almost too much for me to bear. Memories of my mother flash through my mind, and panic takes over.
I turn my head to look back up at Cyrus. Smoke billows between us, but his venomous eyes are unmistakable.
He wraps his hand around my neck and lowers himself, bringing his face as close to mine as he can. My throat burns, and my vision blurs, black dots appearing at the sides. All I see is Cyrus’s beady eyes above me.
“This is the last time you’ll take money from me, fucker.” He hisses. “This is the last time an Egan takes everything from me.”
He keeps one hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing. He uses the other to keep it pinned on my windpipe, straightening his arms. Sitting up, his face turns beat red, and the veins pop in his round neck. He’s using as much pressure and strength as he can to kill me.
I lift my arms and bat at his. I’m growing weaker, and my eyes start to grow heavy. I don’t have the strength to keep them open. I try to fight back, but all I see is Charleigh sitting under the tree in her parent’s backyard. Round patches of wet dirt stained into the knees of her jeans. Her long, brown hair curtaining her beautiful face. Me hastily drawing her round eyes in my sketchbook, just in case I never had the gift of seeing them again.
My hands start to fall away from Cyrus’s arms, and my mind drifts. It floats away, and the smoke and heat overwhelm me.
I’ve almost completely surrendered when Charleigh growls above me. My eyes snap open with as much energy as I can summon, watching the end of a large flowerpot smash against the side of Cyrus’s head.
The ceramic cracks against his skull, and his usually beady eyes spread wide. I squint, a chunk of the pot and clumps of dirt falling all over me.
Cyrus’s hands let up, and he topples to the side. I’m still straining to breathe. I inhale sharply, gasping for air. I roll to my side, coughing. My jaw is wide open, but despite his hands being off me, there’s still no relief. I look up at the flames, inches from my face, and I scramble to sit up and back away.
“Asher.” Charleigh kneels beside me. She grips onto my arm, urging me to stand. “We need to get out of here.”
I quickly wrap my hand around hers and stand, ready to head for the door, but I stop when I see a barrier of flames blocking the front door.
“Shit,” I blow out.
“Come on,” Charleigh says, pulling me back down the hall. “There’s a ladder outside my bedroom window.”
I nod and lead her down the hall. We stick close to the wall, avoiding the flames crawling across the floor, setting her carpet on fire.
When we make it to her bedroom, I slide the window open and help Charleigh climb out first. She grabs onto the thin, metal ladder and starts her descent. I’m quick to follow.
I don’t inhale a clean breath until my bare feet land on solid ground. With my hands on my knees, I try to clean out the smoke from my chest, worried I’ve inhaled too much. Charleigh’s hand is on my back, but my own worries subside, focusing on her.
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her to me. She snuggles into me, resting her face on my chest. I press my cheek to the top of her head and breathe an uncomfortable sigh of relief .
I kiss the top of her head, then wrap my hands around her face, pulling her to look up at me. “Are you okay?”
Tears streak her cheeks, and worry is etched in her round eyes. She nods and sniffs, her eyes falling to my neck. “Are you?”
I swallow thickly, looking up at her burning apartment. Each window glows a bright red and orange, and I think of Cyrus inside, lying there unconscious, surrounded by fire.
Flashes of blue and red lights surround us, covering the brick building of Charleigh’s apartment. I turn and look around at all the fire trucks and police cars. A crowd of onlookers has gathered around us and on the other side of the street.
I look back down at Charleigh, running my thumbs under her eyes, wiping up her tears. I inhale an unsteady breath and notice that this time it’s a little easier to take in. I look into her eyes, thankful for the gift of seeing them again.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” I press my lips to her forehead and breathe her in. “You saved me, Little Flower. You saved me.”