Deep Burn (Burned Duet 2)

I pulled in a breath, the first free breath in nearly four days, and as soon as it entered my lungs, I wanted to bawl like a goddamn baby. Having your freedom taken away from you was no joke, but I’d have done what I did a thousand times over if it meant protecting Elodie.

“Asher.” I whipped my head around at the sound of the deep voice, and my gaze immediately found the dark eyes of my dad. He was sitting toward the back, his attention solely on me. “Took long enough.”

“Tell me about it.” I moved toward him, not really sure what reception I was going to receive. We’d spoken over the phone, but it was all business and making sure Elodie was okay. I had no idea how he was going to react now that we were face-to-face, and more or less alone. “Dad, I—”

He shook his head, holding his palm in the air to stop me. “You don’t need to explain it, son.” He stood, his lips in a straight line, not giving anything away until he murmured, “I would have—and have done—the same thing.” He ambled toward me, each of his steps slow and measured. “Let’s get you out of here and home.”

“Home,” I stuttered. I wasn’t sure what I was going to find once I got there, and I knew I needed to prepare myself.

“Yeah, son.” Dad halted in front of me. “And you need a shower STAT.”

I chuckled, because he was right. There was a certain stench jail left on you, and I needed to get it off of me asap. “Elodie—”

“Is at home with your mom.” Dad tried to smile, his lips attempted to lift, but I could see the pain in his features and behind his dark-brown eyes.

“Right.” I pushed my shoulders back, determined not to let how I was feeling show. “Can we stop at my place first? I need to get some clothes and—”

“Sure.” Dad’s hand grasped my shoulder, and he squeezed it in that same way he always did when he was trying to say something he couldn’t quite verbalize. “Let’s get out of here.”

I nodded and followed him as he walked out. I wasn’t sure the smell of the place would ever quite leave my nose, but I was hoping the reason I was here would eventually wane into t

he background. But reality was that these last few days would be something that haunted me—haunted us. However, it was through the bad times we found who we really were, what our souls were built to endure, and what our hearts could take before breaking.

Chapter Four

ELODIE

I hadn’t slept much. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard the echo of his voice. The scent of his cologne. The harshness of his hands. I couldn’t escape the feel of his skin against mine. The way it rubbed against me, the way it burned when he was inside me.

He consumed all of my senses, so instead of letting him win, I stayed awake. I focused my gaze on the wall, on the gap in the curtains, on the wooden bed. I imagined I was on a fairground and could smell the hot dogs cooking. I imagined I was at school in the hallways and all that filled my ears were the sounds of students as they made their way from class to class. The bang of the lockers, the laughter, the teachers shouting not to run.

I pretended I was anywhere but in the place my brain wanted to take me back to. Maybe it was my body’s way of protecting me, or maybe it was because I was scared. Scared to remember what had happened. Scared to think maybe I’d let my guard down. Was it my fault? Had I gotten too lax? Had I thought I’d put all the bad behind me so I could live in the happiness I’d tried to create?

No. I’d kept my wits about me. I’d kept my feet planted firmly on the floor. It wasn’t my fault Knox did what he did. It wasn’t me who’d pushed him to it. It was his own decision. He’d chosen to break into the tattoo shop. He’d taken the steps into my apartment. He’d been violent. He’d—

I hadn’t fought.

My breath left me in a whoosh. I hadn’t fought hard enough. Maybe if I’d have kicked harder, screamed louder. Maybe if I’d have hit him back more.

I had a constant reel of maybes, but did it really matter? It was in the past. It had happened, and now all I had to do was—

My skin crawled, my ears picking up the sound of a car halting outside the house. I hadn’t moved from Asher’s bed. It had been days since I’d last seen him, last heard his voice. Lola had come in and told me he was getting out today, but I wasn’t sure whether I was nervous or afraid to see him. I’d stayed here because Asher made me feel safe, but now…now I wasn’t sure about anything.

The front door opened, and voices murmured from below. I couldn’t make any of them out, but my gut told me I knew who they were. Asher was here. I could sense it. Something happened to me when he was around. My palms got sweaty, my heart raced faster. Only he made me feel that way. Only he tied my stomach up in knots.

Footsteps echoed on the stairs and my pulse thrummed quicker. He was coming to me. He was—

The door handle turned, and I drew in what felt like the first breath I had in days. There was no mistaking the cologne that drifted into the room. I’d already known it was him, but this…this confirmed it. The door squeaked as he opened it up more, and a stream of light from the hallway basked onto the back wall. I concentrated on it, making out his shadow which got bigger with each step inside the room he took closer to me.

“Elodie?” His voice was soft and rough. A weird combination that had me both on edge and relaxing all at the same time. “Sweetheart?”

I placed my palm on my chest, trying to calm the erratic beat of my heart. I wanted to turn and face him. I wanted to give him a smile, one which said I was fine. But I couldn’t get my body to move. I couldn’t get my muscles to adhere to the commands my brain made.

The door squeaked again, only this time the light disappeared, but I knew he was still in the room with me. I heard it—felt it.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking on the last word. “I should have…I shouldn’t have…I…fuck.”

I held my breath, waiting for what else he was going to say, but when silence rained down on us, I finally listened to my brain for the first time in days and slowly rolled over. I couldn’t make him out, couldn’t look him dead in the eyes, but the movement was enough for him to shoot forward. “Asher.”