Chapter 15: Tarnished Embers: Chapter 14

The rest of the week goes by quickly with English and Math in the morning, followed by some sort of physical activity; fencing, squash, and boxing after lunch. Our PT—Andy T—is an ex-marine and his training is brutal as fuck, but I welcome the burn as I push my body to its limits. It helps me to forget the guilt that is an ever-present weight on my chest.

Worry that we are still under Odette’s thumb and that I’ve not got us out yet. I want to be independent as much as I know the others do, but until now, it’s not been an option. We have nothing of our own. No money aside from what Odette gives us, no real qualifications, and I couldn’t see just how much she was controlling every aspect of our lives until it was too late. Until we were in so deep that I didn’t know how to get us out.

The worst part, the thing that keeps me up at night, is the simple fact that I’ve not protected my brothers from the toxic shit we’ve done, which eats away at them as much as it does me.

Yeah, it used to be fun and games, but after a few years, it got old, and it made my stomach turn when the twins became involved a little over five years ago. Sure, they didn’t mind, but I fucking did. I know how much it tarnishes you, how dirty you feel afterwards, and no amount of washing will ever get you clean.

“Motherfucker!” I yell, my head snapping to one side with the force of the blow that Andy delivers, pain shooting up the side of my face.

“Head in the game, Prince,” he replies with a growl as I swipe at my lip, leaving a smear of crimson on my arm when I pull it back.

I give him a vicious smile, then throw a punch that he blocks, only to catch him with a swipe of my leg, taking his feet out from underneath him. He lands with an oomph on his back just as the door to the gym slams closed.

I look away from him to see Ember catching sight of me, her eyes widening when they take in my busted and bleeding lip.

“Prince! Watch—” I don’t hear the rest as I’m suddenly feeling the mat beneath my spine and all the air leaves my lungs.

“What did I tell you about paying attention?” Andy grins, holding out his wrapped hand for me to take. I smile back, grasping his palm and letting him help pull me up. Before I know what’s happening, Ember is right there in front of Andy, pushing him in the chest.

“Why is he bleeding, arsehole?” She shoves him again, but of course, he doesn’t move and I can see him biting the inside of his cheek to not laugh at the small, blonde firecracker trying to take him on. “Are you fucking laughing at me?” Her voice is like ice, and I watch as Andy grimaces at what must be the death glare she’s giving him.

“Hey, Sugar, we were just sparring, and I wasn’t paying attention,” I tell her, grasping her shoulders and spinning her to face me. Her gaze immediately softens, her hand coming up to palm my cheek as her fingers trace the wound on my lip.

“But you’re b–bleeding,” she says, a slight wobble in her voice, and I realize that maybe this is like when she found me outside her room on the balcony, shivering from the cold.

“I’m okay,” I assure her in a soft tone, my chest tightening. Fuck, no one has ever really cared whether I’m hurt. I mean the guys, my brothers, don’t want to see me seriously injured, but a few scrapes or a busted lip? That’s nothing to worry about. “I’m fine, baby.”

I pull her towards me, and she comes willingly, clearly forgetting in her concern that Andy is there, and wraps her arms around my waist, resting her face on my bare, sweaty chest. Warmth suffuses my limbs at the fact that she’s here, worried about me and in my arms, and I look up at Andy with a narrowed stare. He holds his hands up in a ‘not my fucking business’ kind of way, then turns to go help the twins with their session.

“I don’t want any of you hurt. Ever,” she breathes out, and my heartbeat races, drumming inside my chest at how we got so fucking lucky to have someone like her in our lives.

We both jump when the gym door slams open, and I pull her closer, my shoulders tensing when Reginald, their butler, comes hurrying in. His usually put-together appearance is in complete disarray, his bow tie askew. The hair lifts on the back of my neck as his eyes scan the room before resting on Ember in my arms.

“M–Miss E–Ember?” he stutters, and as he comes towards us, the glisten of unshed tears shines in his eyes, and his hands tremble and shake.

“Reginald? What’s wrong?” She turns in my arms, but I don’t let her go, the pit in my stomach telling me that his news is not good.

“I–it’s Mr E–Everly. T–there’s been a–an a–accident.” He can hardly get the words out, and I feel Ember going rigid.

“What happened, Reginald?” The way her voice is barely above a whisper breaks something inside of me, and I don’t want to hear what’s next, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

“H–he, Mr Everly, went fishing just off the coast. T–there was an unexpected swell and it swept him overboard. He…” His face is so pale, and his hands quiver when he holds them out, as if to help ward off the blow he’s about to give.

“He what, Reginald?”

My eyes stutter closed, unable to look at the old man as I know what’s coming, have experienced this news too many times.

“I–I’m so sorry, Miss. He’s dead.”

My knees buckle, but there’s no pain because I don’t hit the floor. Instead, I’m swept up into powerful arms that pull me close. Rum, leather, and cedar surround me, and I nuzzle into Prince, blocking out everything else.

He’s dead.

Two words that have the power to change my life.

How can he be gone? He’s always been there, even when he withdrew and buried himself in work, he was still there.

“Breathe, Cinders. Come on, baby.” Cas sounds panicked, and it’s enough to have me gasping, air hitting my lungs, burning as it gives me the oxygen I didn’t realise I was denying myself. Bright, copper eyes creased in concern, stare back at me.

“Cas—” My voice doesn’t sound like me. It’s a broken, agony-filled plea that hurts as it leaves my throat.

“I’m here, baby. We’re all here.” His toffee apple scent fills my nose, and as I pull him closer, the softness of my bed registers, as does a warm body pressed behind me, arms holding me close. When did I end up in my room?

“Tell me this is a nightmare, please, Cas,” I beg, knowing that I wouldn’t have them with me if I was in one of my nightmares.

“I wish I could, Cinders. Fuck, I wish I could.” His voice is rough, and I bury my face against his chest, hearing the rhythmic thump of his heart as mine fractures into tiny pieces.

A wail sounds around us, like that of a wounded animal, and it takes me a moment to realise that it’s me making that noise. That I’m the one screaming and crying as if it will make a difference. As if it might bring back my dad and I won’t be an orphan.

“Please calm down, little sis,” Oct’s broken voice sounds in my ear, but I can’t stop, the pain inside me is too great to hold back.

“This will help her sleep,” someone new says, a voice that features in the blurry time after my mother’s death, when I was lost to grief and had to be sedated more often than not. A voice that is always present in my nightmares, even if the doctor meant no harm.

“No…” My plea is ignored though when I feel a sharp prick in my neck, and then I’m met with nothing but blackness.