Ash to Dust (Falling Ash Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Epilogue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  Author Notes

  Other Books by this Author

  About the Author

  Ash to Dust

  By A.T. Douglas

  Copyright © 2017 by A.T. Douglas

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design by Marisa Shor of Cover Me Darling: covermedarling.com.

  Edited by C.L. Comeaux: [email protected].

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without prior written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  Epilogue

  Author Notes

  Other Books by this Author

  About the Author

  To those who indulge in the darkness

  like me:

  We aren’t really that strange

  (I don’t think).

  This is who we are.

  And that’s okay.

  Sometimes life makes us this way.

  Prologue

  I quickly move down the hallway at the sound of the front door opening, my heart racing faster within my chest with each hurried step I take. Turning the corner at the entryway, I find Joseph quietly shutting and locking the front door. He holds his hands against its solid wooden surface for a moment before turning around to face me, his conflicted eyes seeming reluctant to meet mine.

  “Where is Jake?” I ask quietly.

  “He’s on patrol in the woods,” Joseph replies, his gaze drifting from mine before fully reengaging with me. “He’ll be out there for a while.”

  I nod and know what needs to happen next, but my feet do nothing to move me. Panic rises within me at the thought that the moment we’ve been planning for is finally here, but I don’t know if I can go through with it.

  Before I have too much time to think about it, I turn around and move down the hallway toward the bedroom that Joseph and Jake share. It takes a moment, but Joseph’s footsteps finally follow behind me.

  The room is bathed in natural light when I step inside, daylight finding all corners of the room through the sheer curtains covering the window. The yellow sundress I’m wearing seems appropriate on this sunny spring day, though the weather is not the reason for this deviation from my normal attire of jeans and a t-shirt.

  I come to a stop when I reach the end of the bed, closing my eyes briefly before taking a seat on the mattress. Joseph steps up in front of me and runs a nervous hand over his brown, buzz cut hair. He locks gazes with mine and hesitates before reaching around me with his muscular arms to help ease my back down to the soft surface of the bed. He takes care to pull my long, dark hair to the side so that it doesn’t get caught underneath me.

  His eyes are soft, but intense as he looks down at me beneath him, and I can’t look away. I can’t look anywhere else in this room as I hear his belt buckle loosen and his zipper come undone. The sound of his jeans hitting the floor only increases the rapid pace of my heartbeat.

  He breaks his stare with me and looks to the side, and my eyes have no choice but to follow his in that direction. We both glance to the man in the chair on the side of the room who is watching us with pain written all over his features, the darkness in his expression a complete contrast to the sunlight engulfing the room.

  Silas’ olive green eyes meet mine through the shadowing strands of his tousled dark hair. He gives me the slightest nod, and my reaction is immediate. My unsteady hands grasp the loose fabric of the bottom of my dress where it drapes over my thighs. I pull the dress and my legs up at the same time, bending my knees and letting them fall slightly to the side.

  I know Joseph can see this private part of me now as I’m already completely bare underneath in preparation for this moment, but I make no attempt to look at him. I hear him rubbing himself, hardening himself for what he’s about to do, but I keep looking at Silas. Even as Joseph presses up against my opening, I continue staring at the man I love who is watching from what might as well be miles away, even though he’s only on the other side of the room.

  The moment Joseph enters me, Silas breaks my gaze, but I continue watching him. As Silas sees each gentle thrust of Joseph inside me, his expression becomes more strained. By the time Joseph’s thrusts have increased in pace and become more forceful within me, Silas’ head is in his hands while he continues to watch us.

  When Joseph cries out and releases inside me, Silas’ expression reaches the height of anguish, his body completely still but for the tears streaking down his face.

  My cheeks are similarly stained with tears. My expression is just as pained. I feel the crack that has just now formed in the heart of the man who would do anything for me, feel it all the way across the room in my own heart, and the broken feeling I’m left with is only intensified by the knowledge that I’m the one causing him this pain. I’m hurting the people I love to fulfill my own selfish desires.

  The weight on my chest suddenly feels enormous—almost too much for me to bear—but in my current position, sprawled on the bed with my brother’s partner between my legs, all I can do is look away from Silas. My eyes find Joseph’s gaze instead, but I find no comfort there, either. His face is similarly pained, but lined with panic as he stares down at his cock slowly slipping out of me.

  “Joseph?” I say hesitantly, barely able to push the single word through the thickness in my throat at seeing these strong and supportive men in my life breaking down in front of me.

  He takes a step back and swallows hard before looking at me, but he doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to, though, because his expression tells me everything.

  I have asked too much of him. Far too much.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisp
er as I close my legs and let them fall to the bed, but he doesn’t acknowledge my apology as he pulls up his clothes from his ankles. He won’t even look at me now as he secures the zipper and button of his jeans and buckles his belt.

  “You can never tell him,” Joseph finally says, avoiding my gaze completely as he walks toward the door. “Jake can never know about this.”

  I nod because it’s all I can do. I can’t stand the thought of hearing my voice carry across the room any more to the selfless man who just gave me the ultimate gift.

  The gift of life.

  As Joseph walks away down the hall, I realize that the parts of him that have been left behind are slowly seeping out of me and that I need to do something about it. I should get off of this bed and go wash up. I need to wipe away the stain of what I just did, but I find that I can barely move, the weight still too heavy on my chest from the choice I’ve just made.

  A hand sneaks into mine as Silas suddenly takes a seat on the bed next to me. He strengthens his grip on my hand as he leans down to kiss my forehead and then my lips.

  Despite how broken I know he feels inside, he’s here supporting me as he has many times before. He keeps me together in one piece when all I want to do is shatter across the floor. The love, encouragement, and understanding he has shown me each day have gotten me through the last two years since modern society was brought to its knees, and I know he’ll help me along this new path we’re forging together.

  He’ll be the perfect father for this child.

  1

  I would normally be happy to awaken to the sound of birds chirping outside—their presence a welcome sign that the harsh winter is over and there are warmer and easier days ahead—but this morning the charms of nature aren’t working on me. I’ve had trouble finding joy in much of anything since the event that occurred yesterday afternoon. My mind has been tortured by internal debate over whether what I did was right or wrong.

  I’m not surprised to find the bed empty next to me this morning. Silas found only fitful rest in the long hours that we held each other before I finally managed to fall asleep last night. I expect he was out of bed at the first sign of the rising sun, likely outside working on some project to keep his mind off of our recent troubles. He has done a lot of that lately, and while I’d rather he spend that time with me and talk to me about what he’s thinking, I understand his desire to be alone.

  Lying on my back in bed only serves to remind me of what happened yesterday, and I feel the sudden urge to get up and away from here, even though this isn’t the same bed in which my encounter with Joseph occurred. I quickly sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, taking only the briefest moment to collect myself before standing up. When I’m dressed in some jeans and a t-shirt, I somewhat reluctantly make my way downstairs.

  I’ve tried to avoid thoughts of what my conversations and interactions will be like with Joseph and Jake after what I did. Opting to skip dinner last night helped me postpone my inevitable reunion with them. I wasn’t ready to face them. I’m still not ready, but I can’t hide away from them forever.

  As I open the door at the bottom of the stairs and enter the hallway, I’m relieved to find that no one is there to greet me in the living room. I take comfort in the quiet house around me while I walk down the hall to the kitchen and find it empty, too.

  The familiar aching feeling of hunger gnaws at my stomach, but I don’t feel up to eating anything right now. My mouth and throat are dry, though. I know I’m dehydrated and need to drink something despite my queasy stomach. Unlike our depleting non-perishable food stash, our water supply from the large pond nearby is still plentiful, and I take full advantage of it by grabbing a glass from the black cabinets and filling it with water from the sink faucet.

  The sun looks exceptionally bright today as I glance out of the window above the sink and sip the water from my glass. It’s the perfect day to work on the garden, to prepare the soil for planting the seedlings that we’ve been growing inside the house. They will eventually provide fresh vegetables to keep us alive in the coming months.

  My breath suddenly catches at the thought of Joseph’s seed planted inside me and how it might grow and develop. I can’t deny the guilt I feel at trying to create life with someone other than Silas, with someone who is practically family to me. It feels wrong, and I feel horrible about going behind my brother’s back to ask his partner to help me in this effort while keeping what we’ve done hidden from him.

  I quickly set down my glass and grip the edge of the gray slate countertop to keep me steady as my heart rate rises to a panicked pace. Squeezing my eyes shut, I wish I could will away the conflicting thoughts plaguing my mind, but they only seem to consume me more.

  Footsteps approach from the direction of the dining room behind me, and I know that regardless of whom they belong to, I need to pull my shit together and fast. With a quick deep breath, I resume an upright standing position and grab for the glass of water, putting it to my lips and downing a third of the glass in a few deep gulps.

  “Hey,” Jake says casually behind me.

  I turn and smile in response from behind the glass still pressed against my lips, taking a couple of final sips from the glass to prolong this interaction as long as possible. “Good morning,” I finally respond while setting down the glass.

  “It’s almost afternoon, you know,” Jake teases while running a hand through his dark brown hair to sweep it back from his glistening forehead. He grabs a glass from farther down the counter and begins to fill it with water from the faucet. “Some of us have been hard at work already today.”

  Grateful for Jake’s lighthearted start to this conversation, I give him the best scolding look a sister can give her younger brother. “I didn’t sleep well last night. Give me a break.”

  “You missed dinner yesterday. Is everything okay?”

  The test of my ability to keep a straight face and smooth voice while lying to my brother has officially begun. “Everything’s fine. I just haven’t been feeling well.”

  Jake is about to press his glass of water to his lips, but stops and lowers his hand instead, his eyes widening slightly as if he’s truly taking me in for the first time in this conversation. “It’s not—” I watch him in confusion for a moment as he has trouble finding his words. “You’re not—”

  Understanding comes quickly as I realize what he’s struggling to ask me. “No. God, no, I’m not pregnant yet.”

  I expect to see relief flood my brother’s face, but he seems more disappointed instead. He nods at me, then takes an extended drink from his glass, leaving us both in silence for a long moment.

  “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, his tone laced with sympathy. “I know you’ve been trying for a while.”

  A subdued smile is all I can manage in response. I haven’t talked much with Jake about my efforts to grow our family in this house tucked away in the mountains of Vermont, at least not since Silas and I told Joseph and Jake we wanted to have a baby almost a year ago and then we all had a full conversation about the pros and cons of it. On occasion since then, Jake has asked me if we’ve had any luck yet, but our conversations never extended beyond my negative response.

  Jake takes another long drink from his glass before placing it on the counter and turning to face me with his hands on each of my shoulders. The concern on his face is replaced with a hopeful expression as he tells me quietly, “There’s no harm in continuing to try, right? Practice makes perfect.”

  Now I have to laugh. This is such strange advice to receive from my brother.

  I’m about to tell him this line of conversation is over when I’m interrupted by the sudden appearance of Joseph in the doorway from the dining room. He stops when he sees me and Jake standing together. He looks exhausted and appears uneasy about being here, as if he wants to turn right around and walk out of this room without a word.

  Before he can do anything, though, Jake is already working his way across the kitchen to greet
him. His hand finds the side of Joseph’s face, and he kisses him briefly on the lips.

  “I missed the memo about sleeping in today,” Jake says jokingly to him.

  Joseph’s troubled expression barely changes at his tease, prompting Jake to frown.

  “Not you, too,” Jake complains with exasperation. “What’s going on with everyone today?”

  In an effort to divert this latest course of conversation, I cling on to part of what Jake said and hope that I can use it to get myself out of this situation. “You’ve seen Silas? Where is he?”

  Jake drags Joseph over to one of the barstools at the island in the middle of the kitchen and forces him to take a seat before he responds to me. “I saw him enter the garage earlier, but I haven’t seen him since. He looked particularly serious this morning.”

  I sigh and glance at the back door of the kitchen that leads outside. “I’ll go check on him in a few.”

  “Maybe you can cheer him up,” Jake suggests before locking eyes with Joseph. “In the meantime, I’ll work on this one.”

  Joseph’s blank expression does finally transform into a smile at Jake’s comment, and for a moment it feels like some of the heaviness of the room has lifted.

  Then Joseph finds my gaze, and when his smile fades, my expression falters.

  “I should go,” I say quickly, barely getting the words out before the growing thickness in my throat makes it too difficult to speak. Without looking at Joseph or Jake, I make my way around the kitchen island and through the doorway into the dining room.

  2

  After a quick stop at the bathroom, I slip on my tennis shoes and opt to exit through the front door to avoid interrupting the conversation between Joseph and Jake in the kitchen.

  The sun is high in the sky when I step outside, and I feel its warmth immediately on my skin when I step into the direct sunshine. I try to take comfort in that warmth as I walk along the stone path in front of the house toward the detached two-car garage. The gray-stone brick exterior of the house makes the building appear to tower over me like a protective fortress as I walk in front of it.