When Ashes Fall

When Ashes Fall

Marni Mann

5.0
Comment(s)
2.1K
View
57
Chapters

It's been said that you can't love two men at the same time. You can't split your heart, soul, and body in half. But I'm here to tell you, you can. Dylan Cole is like ice, sharp and unpredictable, the thunder inside a tumultuous storm. Smith Reid is warmth, soft and gentle, perfect like a sunny day. Both are mine. But I can have only one. There are two sides to this tale. I'm here to tell you mine. If you think this story is about a cheater, you couldn't be more wrong.

Chapter 1 1

ALIX

PRESENT DAY

"NINE-ONE-ONE, WHAT'S YOUR EMERGENCY?" I said into the headset as I stared at the computer screen.

While I waited for a response, I sucked in a deep breath and rested my fingers on the keyboard, my thumb gently tapping the space bar but not hard enough to actually press it down. My body tensed. The tips of my toes ground into the bottom of my shoes.

It was a ritual.

One I repeated every time I answered a call.

"I'm at the Public Garden," the woman said. "And a man just fell off one of the benches. He's on the ground, screaming. You can probably hear him in the background. It looks like he hurt his arm or something."

Once I processed her description, my chest loosened.

The air I'd been holding in slowly made its way through my lips.

The tapping stopped.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Why do you need that?"

"It's for our records and also so I know what to call you."

"I'm not comfortable with giving you my last name, but my first name is Rachel."

"Rachel," I repeated as I typed it into the system, "do you know the man's name?"

"I don't know him. I was just walking by with my boyfriend, and I saw it happen."

"Are you able to get close to him and ask if he's okay?"

"Look, I'm just calling out of courtesy. I don't have time to go over and assess the man."

Before I could respond, Rachel disconnected the call.

So, I finished typing up my notes and dispatched the emergency response team to the Public Garden. Before they even left the firehouse, they'd know the man could be suffering from a broken arm, shoulder, or even head trauma and that no other symptoms had been reported.

Once I finished all the coding, I logged off and removed the headset. Then, I took out my bag from the bottom drawer and reached inside for my cell. I found Rose's last text and started typing.

Me: I'm not going to make it. I'm exhausted.

Rose: If you don't show up, I'm going to walk to your townhouse and drag your ass out. It's your choice.

Me: I'm leaving work right now. See you in 15.

Rose: I got us a table outside, right in front. You can't miss me.

I put the phone back in my bag and stood from the desk, making my way through the call center. This was where most of the emergency and non-emergency calls were answered for each district of Boston. Where we worked eight-hour shifts and handled over a thousand calls a day.

I wondered if I'd have the same ritual tomorrow.

Or if I'd have a different one.

Or maybe I wouldn't have one at all.

That thought was interrupted when I heard, "Alix," as I walked by Marla's office.

I stopped reluctantly and turned around, backtracking until I was in her doorway. "Hey," I said, watching her smile as she got up from her chair.

Marla was an officer and had been supervising this department for the six years I'd been employed by the city. I'd met her while I was in the EMT recruit academy when I was first hired.

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and hugged me. "I hope today went all right."

I closed my eyes and made sure she didn't hear me sigh.

This was what I hadn't wanted.

Along with the extra-big smiles from my coworkers when I had walked into the call center earlier today.

And the card that had been slipped into my desk, which I'd opened before my shift.

And the invitation to lunch I had declined.

It was all really unnecessary.

And way too much.

I squeezed her back because it was the right thing to do and said, "Yes, today went fine." Then, I immediately pulled away.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course."

I wondered if tomorrow would feel different.

I thought about that as I made my way through the police headquarters.

This building was so busy with employees, many of whom I'd met. Maybe even close to all of them. If they saw me, they'd want me to stop walking. They'd want to talk.

Some might even want to hug me.

To avoid any type of contact, I took out my phone and held it to my ear, pretending to be in a serious conversation. At the same time, I stayed to the left side of each room I passed through and kept my face down.

That was everything I could do to go unnoticed.

I was flooded with relief when I made it out the front of the building without having to say a word and continued my trek to Ruggles station, hurrying into the train before the door shut.

Two stops.

That was how far it was to Back Bay station.

During the ride, I looped my arm around the metal pole and scrolled through one of my apps. I was only able to read a handful of status updates before Back Bay station was announced from the speakers.

Once I made my way outside, I went down Dartmouth Street until I reached the restaurant. Rose was right in front, just like she had said in her text. She was at a small, round table that had two glasses of red wine and a charcuterie board on top of it.

"Hiii ," she said as I got closer and embraced me the second I reached her.

I didn't mind.

That was part of the reason I was here.

I even hugged her back as hard as I could.

Rose and I had been assigned as roommates our freshman year at Northeastern. I was a shy girl from southern Maine, who made the honor roll with ease and wanted to work in health care. I was also extremely inexperienced in partying. Rose was from South Boston. She came to college with a master's degree in drinking and could throw up the next morning without even smudging her lipstick.

We were complete opposites.

And, although we had both changed so much over the years, we were still closer than ever.

"Hi," I whispered back.

She was holding me so tightly; it was hard to breathe.

"Thanks for not canceling."

"Well, I tried," I admitted.

"You know, if you really didn't want to come tonight, I wouldn't have forced you."

"I know."

I moved to the other side of the table and sat across from her. Once I slung my bag over the corner of the chair, I lifted the wine glass, clicked it against hers, and took a sip.

Pinot noir.

She knew what I needed.

"To moments," she said as I swallowed.

Rose believed in celebrating them.

Always.

And, according to her, today was one.

"To moments," I repeated.

Continue Reading

Other books by Marni Mann

More

You'll also like

The Surgeon's Vow: Healing My Billionaire Husband

The Surgeon's Vow: Healing My Billionaire Husband

Qing Shui
5.0

I sat in the gray, airless room of the New York State Department of Corrections, my knuckles white as the Warden delivered the news. "Parole denied." My father, Howard Sterling, had forged new evidence of financial crimes to keep me behind bars. He walked into the room, smelling of expensive cologne, and tossed a black folder onto the steel table. It was a marriage contract for Lucas Kensington, a billionaire currently lying in a vegetative state in the ICU. "Sign it. You walk out today." I laughed at the idea of being sold to a "corpse" until Howard slid a grainy photo toward me. It showed a toddler with a crescent-moon birthmark—the son Howard told me had died in an incubator five years ago. He smiled and told me the boy's safety depended entirely on my cooperation. I was thrust into the Kensington estate, where the family treated me like a "drowned rat." They dressed me in mothball-scented rags and mocked my status, unaware that I was monitoring their every move. I watched the cousin, Julian, openly waiting for Lucas to die to inherit the empire, while the doctors prepared to sign the death certificate. I didn't understand why my father would lie about my son’s death for years, or what kind of monsters would use a child as a bargaining chip. The injustice of it burned in my chest as I realized I was just a pawn in a game of old money and blood. As the monitors began to flatline and the family started to celebrate their inheritance, I locked the door and reached into the hem of my dress. I pulled out the sharpened silver wires I’d fashioned in the prison workshop. They thought they bought a submissive convict, but they actually invited "The Saint"—the world’s most dangerous underground surgeon—into their home. "Wake up, Lucas. You owe me a life." I wasn't there to be a bride; I was there to wake the dead and burn their empire to the ground.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

SHANA GRAY
4.5

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book