Reckless Abandon(37)
My mouth falls open slightly. I haven’t said Luke’s name in six months but I’d hope twenty-years from now I’d be able to tell stories about him.
Asher looks back to me and continues. “My father was a mechanic with no family to speak of or two cents to rub together. Not to mention Latin, something my Scottish grandfather would never have allowed. But my mom, she was in love with my dad. She gave up her family and everything that came along with it. We lived in a poor section of Pittsburgh while my parents tried to figure out how to make ends meet. My mother was educated but she didn’t know how to do anything other than play music. She was bred to be a rich man’s wife, not a money-maker.”
“And my dad, he was a hardworking man. He had a criminal record so work was hard to come by. We didn’t have much but I never went without.”
Asher’ s hand takes mine and skims over the scar again, keeping his focus on the imperfection while he tells his story.
“When they died, I didn’t have any other family. My grandfather took me in under one condition: I was never to speak of my parents again. It was the first time I ever met him. He didn’t show love the way my parents did. I learned early on that if I pleased him, his pride in me was as good as love. I let him breed me into who he was. Work consumed me. Family was not an option. According to him, who can have one when they are going to leave you anyway.”
My own jaw tightens as I try to control the burn in my throat that comes before a good cry. I breathe in calming breaths. “Asher, you know that’s not true. Family is what you lean on when times get hard. I know you don’t remember that but your parents seemed like the kind of people who would be there for you no matter what.”
His cheeks hollow but with a deep rumble he lets out a puff of air and shakes his head. “I know. I just have a hard time remembering sometimes.”
Is that what he’s doing out here? Working for Devon? Trying to figure out who he is?
He must think I’m such an ass. I’ve been complaining about my overbearing parents, yet here he is trying to remember his own for the caring people they were. Probably exactly like mine are.
And to not have spoken about them, said their names out loud in so long. Well, that’s just sad. It’s a sadness I am swimming in, myself, and if I don’t fight the current I’ll drown. I can’t let that happen.
“Luke.” I whisper the name.
Asher’s eyes pop open not understanding why I am whispering another man’s name. I mentioned my brother vaguely yesterday but not his name. Just the casual mention of having a brother.
My heart is beating a million miles a minute. My lip trembles slightly. I try to keep it together. “Luke. I had a brother named Luke. Today is his birthday. At least, today would have been his birthday.”
Understanding crosses Asher’s face. His posture straightens as he leans forward and takes my face in his hands. “Emma, you don’t have to—”
“He was impulsive like you. Always down to go to the next party or jump off a cliff or drive across country with his friends just because he had a free week from school. Luke was really smart too. He wanted to be an architect. I like to think he would have made a great one.”
I take a deep, cleansing breath and continue. “Last winter, Luke was home for the holidays. Just after the New Year, my boyfriend, Parker, broke up with me. Luke was pissed. He said he never liked the douchebag anyway. His cure for a broken heart was to go out. So I let him take me.”
My eyes flutter closed at the memory. “I had ten too many shots of Fireball. Luke didn’t drink. When it was time to leave, I didn’t want to go home so we went for a drive.”
Images of snow covered roads and the inside of Luke’s car as he blared Kings of Leon from his radio flash in my mind. I didn’t comprehend how fast we were going and I certainly didn’t do anything to make him stop. I’ll never forget the look of his face as he tried to regain control of the car. Clawing, grabbing, desperate for control. He was frightened.
“When I woke up in a hospital room the next day, they told me my brother died at the scene. Said it was a miracle I was alive. I had major injuries but most healed. My hand, unfortunately, was crushed. The next day the doctors told me it would never work again. They said I was lucky they were able to salvage it at all. I told them they might as well have severed it.”
Asher’s thumbs rub the spot just under my eyes, catching the tears that are falling. I lift my gaze to his and see they are slightly red-rimmed as well.
I look into his eyes and say the thing that has been driving a knife through my heart for six months. “I killed my brother. If I hadn’t asked him to go for a drive he would be alive. Don’t you see I’m broken? I’m not perfect.”
Asher’s mouth finds my forehead and gives me a gentle kiss before pulling me into his chest. I like the way my body fits against his but I can’t go daydreaming about what could be. I am damaged and he can’t fix me.
“You are, by far, the most amazing person I have ever known,” he says into my hair.
I lean back and blink at him. Hasn’t he heard a word I said?
“How can you say that?”
Asher pushes my shoulders back and leans down slightly, putting me face-to-face with him. “Emma, in three days you had your heart broken, lost your brother, and your ability to play music. And you’re still here to tell the tale. I don’t know many people who would make it through a month, let alone six.”