A Walk Through Fire (10 page)

Flexing his fingers, Drew stretched his arms over his head, feeling the kinks unwind from his back. He’d patched up scrapes, stitched up gashes, and was happy to persuade at least two teens to talk with Keith about pressing charges. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. That reminded him. He wanted to speak with Ash about the two kids and the legal process they might have to face if they did decide to go forward with prosecution. A noise from the hallway caught his attention, and glancing at the clock, he frowned. Six o’clock. Everyone should’ve been gone already.

He got up from his seat and peered out into the hallway. Spying the receding back of young Stevie North, he shook his head. There was a young man with troubles, and he’d latched on to Ash for some reason. A crash reverberated farther down the hallway. Drew could hear a moan and then a rhythmic squeaking noise. Fearful of what he might find, Drew sprinted toward where Ash’s office was located. He stopped short outside the open door, staring in amazement and consternation.

Clutching himself, tears pouring down his face, Ash was in the middle of a full-fledged meltdown of some sort. This wasn’t something Drew had expected to see, but his gut instinct to protect and care for another person in such obvious pain took over. Without thinking, he entered the office and sat on the love seat next to Ash. There was no hesitation to take Ash in his arms, giving him whatever comfort he could offer. The wetness from Ash’s tears soaked through Drew’s T-shirt, but he couldn’t move, stunned by the overwhelming emotional connection that flowed between the two of them.

He continued to hold Ash as shudders racked his body. Like a child, Drew settled Ash more firmly within his arms, murmuring soothing, crooning nonsense words. For a brief moment their eyes met and warmth spread throughout his body. As if he instinctively knew what Ash needed, Drew rubbed his broad back, feeling the play of the man’s strong muscles underneath his hands. With the tips of his fingers, he pressed and circled Ash’s tense shoulders, and Drew closed his eyes, hopeful his touch brought some comfort.

Without realizing it, however, his lips had moved from Ash’s hair to his forehead, merely resting on his warm skin. He trailed his fingers down Ash’s cheek, the roughened stubble strange yet fascinating under his fingertips. A slow ache built inside Drew, along with a shocking need to protect this man and keep him safe. Curious, he explored Ash’s face, tracing the slant of his cheekbones and the hollows of his eyes. Ash’s mouth remained pressed against his chest, his breath fanning out in short, hurting gasps.

Was it strange or wrong that he desired to be close to this man? Drew had never felt this way before, not even with his best friends, the men he considered to be his brothers. Yet in the past few months, he and Ash had grown close, spending long hours setting up the clinic and working together, often having dinner if they both stayed late. They’d become friends, and Drew genuinely cared about Ash. To his great shock, Ash had even taken to visiting his grandmother on his own, a piece of information Nana was only too happy to tell him. Drew sensed Ash might be attracted to him but had never acted on his feelings.

Not once in their talks, though, had Ash revealed anything about himself, even though Drew knew something terrible had happened to him. Call it insight, but it seemed obvious some form of child abuse existed in Ash’s closely guarded past. When he’d spoken to Peter about it, his friend shook his head.

 “Ash is my friend, Drew. What’s even more important is that he considers me to be his friend, and God knows he hasn’t anyone in his life he can count on. I’d never betray a confidence of his.”
Peter had raked his hand through his hair, looking exasperated.
“Hell, I don’t even know half of what he’s lived through, but I assure you, it wasn’t pretty. If he wants to talk to you about it, he will.”

Shudders still rippled through Ash’s body. What horrors had he seen to make him so lonely? The memory of that night in the restaurant hit him as he recalled Ash running from the table, returning pale and shaken a while later. Was this the same thing? Did he have some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder that triggered at certain events or times? He’d talk to Rachel about it. Maybe she would know.

“Hey. How’re you doing, buddy?” He smoothed Ash’s hair back from his face, keeping his touch light and gentle. “Feeling better?”

Ash shook his head, still pressed against Drew’s chest. “I’m mortified. I never meant for you or anyone to see me like this.” His words were somewhat garbled, but he made no move to pull away from Drew’s embrace.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone has a breaking point. I was a basket case when my parents died. I cried for weeks.”

“Different,” Ash mumbled. “You couldn’t help yourself. This was my fault. By now I should be strong, able to handle myself.”

Without thinking, Drew took Ash’s face between his hands, staring deep into his fathomless eyes. “Not everything that happens to us is within our control, my friend. Sometimes life gives us a swift kick in the ass, and we have to do the best we can with what we’re given.” Before he thought too hard, he bent down but caught himself right before his lips made contact with Ash’s bristly cheek. He remained suspended there for a moment, feeling the sharp inhalation of Ash’s breath, sensing the tenseness of Ash’s body beneath his arms. Ash had closed his eyes, his long black lashes like fans on his skin. With the lightest touch, Drew caressed Ash’s face.

“Drew, what are you doing?” But Ash made no move to draw away.

“Damned if I know.” Not one damn clue. But Drew didn’t stop.

Ironically it was Ash who pulled away. “What’s happening here?”

“Why don’t you tell me? I walked in, and you were suffering. I’ve never seen anyone so broken and hurt.” Drew put his hands on Ash’s shoulders. “Don’t turn from me. We’re friends now. Talk to me.”

“I-I can’t.” His gaze remained pinned to the floor.

With a resigned sigh, Drew moved back. “What are you doing tonight?”

That clear, glittering gaze lifted and held his. Drew was pleased to note, a small grin quirked Ash’s lips. “I have no plans, Doc. What were you thinking?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. Want to visit my grandmother with me?”

To his utter surprise, Ash’s eyes lit up with a pleased glint. “I’d love to see Esther. I promised her some cookies the next time I came, so we’ll need to stop at a bakery.”

What an amazing transformation. In what Drew knew must be some kind of survival technique Ash employed to get him through the embarrassment of breaking down in front of someone not quite a stranger, not quite a friend, the man’s whole demeanor changed, and he slipped back into his charming, careless personality. Drew decided not to press the issue, thinking when and if Ash wanted him to know, he would tell him.

“Great. Everyone else is gone. I’ll lock up the offices and meet you in front.”

“Sure. And Doc.” Ash’s eyes glimmered for a moment with emotion, then reverted back to their normal, blank facade. “Thanks for everything.”

Desperate to keep it light, still unsure of his own strange feelings swirling around in his head, Drew cracked a smile and shrugged. “Sure. No big deal.”

Within ten minutes, the two men were on their way to his grandmother’s house. They stopped in Carroll Gardens, and while Ash picked up some cookies, Drew ran into the cheese store to pick up some of his grandmother’s favorites, as well as his own. He spent a little time tasting both the cheeses and the crackers that accompanied them, and decided to buy several different kinds. That, along with the wine and the cookies, would make for a nice visit.

After storing their purchases in the trunk of Ash’s sporty car, they were on their way again, to his grandmother’s house in the heart of Flatbush. After WWII and her escape from Poland, Nana had found the few remaining members of her family here in Brooklyn and never left. It was the only place, she once confided to him, she felt safe. He and Rachel loved the small house she and Papa Seymour—“Sy” as everyone called him—had shared. It was their safe haven. All his best childhood memories revolved around Rachel and him visiting, spending many weekends helping Papa in the garden growing vegetables and Nana cooking in the kitchen.

They pulled up to her modest, wood-framed house and parked in the driveway. Her impatiens were in full bloom in the front yard, the interspersed pink, white, and red color reminding him of peppermints, while the pots of crimson geraniums lined the steps up to her redbrick porch. A faint scent of barbecue from a nearby house tickled his nose, causing his stomach to rumble with an ungracious noise. Summertime was great, as the daylight lasted near to nine at night.

Ash chuckled. “Hungry?”

His face heated. “I missed lunch, so yeah.” Hoisting the bag, he spoke over his shoulder. “The cheeses and rest of the stuff will tide me over, though.”

Ash grinned. It seemed once again he’d managed to push aside his emotional disintegration, forgetting how close to complete collapse he’d been. In a way, Drew understood. Didn’t he do the same, shoving aside his fear of being alone, the loneliness so deep and black sometimes he stayed up all night rather than succumb to sleep and his nightmares? Adopting the cat had solved only a small part of his problem.

“Nana? Where are you?” He stepped into the small entranceway, decorated with framed pictures of his family, all the way back to when Nana came to this country from Poland. There were no pictures of her as a young child, or any of her relatives, as she’d come with merely the clothes on her back. All her immediate family, her parents and three siblings, had been lost in the war. Turning to Ash, he beckoned. “She must be in the kitchen, listening to the radio. Follow me.”

“I have been here before, you know. I know where to go.” Ash’s grumble brought Drew up short.

Why someone like Ash wanted to spend time with Drew’s elderly grandmother was still a mystery to him. Another intriguing puzzle piece of the enigma that made up Asher Davis.

Now it was Ash’s turn to flush red. “Esther invited me to come whenever I wanted.” A defensive note crept into his voice. “I bring her cookies.”

By this time, they’d reached the kitchen and Drew saw he was right. The back door was open, as was the window overlooking the garden. The radio was tuned to one of her favorite talk shows, and there was a comforting smell of fried onions, garlic, and potatoes.

“Nana.” At the sound of his voice, she turned, a smile breaking out across her lined face. He took her in his arms and hugged her. Please God, he thought to himself, don’t let anything happen to her for a long, long time.

“Hello, sweetheart.” She gave him a kiss on his cheek, and the old-fashioned scent of rose water she always wore reassured him for some reason. All was right in the world as long as his grandmother was around.

“And you brought one of my other favorite boys. Come give me a kiss too, Asher.”

“Hello, Esther. You still won’t call me Ash, will you?” Ash dipped his head to kiss her cheek, then picked up her hand and kissed it as well.

“I like the name Asher. It’s a fine, strong name you should be proud of. Did you know it is a Hebrew name meaning happy or blessing? I think you should remember that, dear.” She patted him on his arm, and Drew studied the incongruous couple as he unpacked the bags.

Never in this lifetime would he have predicted a man like Ash Davis would willingly spend time with his elderly grandmother. Then again, he couldn’t imagine why the sight of Ash with his grandmother sent his heart thumping in a peculiar rhythm. “Is anyone else coming, Nana?” He noticed quite a bit of food in the refrigerator when he put his purchases inside.

“Well, the other boys said they might stop by, and Rachel always stops in to check on me, even though she says it’s to say hello.” Hands planted on her hips, she fixed him with a pretend glare, her blue eyes kindled like a gas flame. “You two don’t fool me, you know. I see right through everything.”

“We love you and want to make sure you’re okay.” Drew popped a mozzarella ball into his mouth. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.” He opened the box of crackers and sat at the table. “Do you, Ash?”

His chin propped in his hands, Ash stared out of the window to the backyard garden. “I think it would be nice to have people who care enough about you to want to make sure you’re safe, but I’m not the person to ask.”

Nana threw Drew a sharp look to which he could only shrug his shoulders. With a determined look on her face, she placed herself next to Ash, the top of her head barely reaching the level of his bicep. She waited only a moment before putting her hand on his arm and speaking so softly Drew had to strain his ears to hear.

“Asher, darling. What’s the matter? You look so sad today. Do you want to talk to me about it?” Her hand remained on his arm.

Drew could’ve told her not to waste her time or breath, that a man like Ash would never reveal himself to her. He turned his attention back to the cheese and reached for a bottle of Malbec.

“You know, Esther. I think I’d like that very much.”

Holy shit. So of all the people in his life, his best friend Peter, Peter’s wife, Drew, anyone, Asher Davis had chosen to unburden himself to Drew’s grandmother. Fucking unbelievable.

Chapter Nine

The living room where Esther brought him to sit and talk was a comfortable room. It had that cozy lived-in feeling, and Ash imagined her husband would come in here after a long day of work to put his feet up on the overstuffed ottoman and settle into his club chair with a drink and the newspaper.

That actually sounded like a perfect ending to anyone’s day, now that he thought about it. He waited until Esther sat in her favorite chair; then he brought her a white wine before settling into a club chair with an iced vodka. He chose not to put his feet up on the ottoman.

Esther surprised him by talking first. “The Chinese place I sent Drew to pick up dinner from takes a while, so we can have a nice long chat.”

It was impossible to be in this woman’s company and not smile. “I see. And why do you think I couldn’t speak freely with Drew around?”