Ashes

By Ashlynn Monroe

Ashes: I’ve spent my whole life fighting. Fighting with teachers, fighting with foster parents, fighting with my demons, but my hardest fight was for my life. Someone shot me to protect my sister’s abusive ex. When I get out of this hospital bed, I’m going to find them.

Vivian: Nursing has been my life for so long I’d forgotten I had a heart. He’s my patient. I Know I shouldn’t be attracted to him, but this bad boy has a damaged soul. I know how to heal his body, but how can I heal his heart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: May 14, 2022

Ashlynn Monroe

Ashlynn Monroe is a busy wife and mom. She’s been writing since she was a teenager for her own pleasure but in her thirties, she decided it was time to share her stories. She enjoys writing about anything and everything paranormal. When she is not lovingly raising her young family, she is dreaming up her next tale of romance. She’d love to hear from you at [e-mail]. Visit her website at http://ashlynnmonroe.com/ or for her YA books go to http://[e-mail]/.

Book preview

Chapter One

Ashes

The smell of old books and wood polish permeated the courtroom. It wasn’t often that I sat here as a spectator instead of a defendant. I glanced where my sister sat, next to the district attorney. She winced when she moved. Her broken ribs couldn’t be fully healed.

I glanced at my brother-in-law across the courtroom, and hate tightened my throat. The bruises on Ami’s face were yellow, almost healed, but I’d seen the traces. She hadn’t hidden them with makeup today. She must’ve wanted the judge to see them. I did too. Will needed to rot in jail. I’d have killed the bastard if he hadn’t been arrested before I’d gotten the call from Ami in the hospital.

He scanned the galley, his eyes widening as his gaze lingered on me just a moment. My glare put beads of sweat on his forehead and his hasty whip-around gave me a dark satisfaction.

Ami turned. Our gazes connected. She gave me her sad smile, the one that always broke my heart. It was the same look she’d give me, like a reassurance, when we met a new foster family, or when we started a new school.

I’d spent my childhood trying -- and failing -- to protect my sister. She’d married Will three years ago at twenty. I should have seen his dark side, but I hadn’t. If I’d only paid better attention maybe I’d have -- fuck, I’d have done something.

All I could do now was stand here in my vest and remind Will the Blood Moons had Ami’s back. He should be so lucky as to get a long sentence because when he got out, I’d be waiting with the rest of my MC brothers. I glared a hole into the back of his head. I’d bet he was praying for the judge to throw the book at him.

Two bikers walked in and sat behind Will and his attorney. Scathes. My hot temper boiled hotter. What the fuck? Sure, this was their territory -- hell, I could get my ass beat for wearing my patches in this county -- but I hadn’t expected to see them here. I glared at Jack, the Sergeant At Arms of the Scathes. He noticed me and gave me a malicious grin. I knew that bastard better than the other members, because every time the law got involved with the feud, he was in court. But my weasel brother-in-law wasn’t biker material. I didn’t recognize the other guy sitting in stoic support behind Will as if he was his personal bodyguard. I cracked my knuckles. That bastard did need protecting from me if I ever got him alone away from all this law.

Helplessness suffocated me. Ami had taken care of me while our meth-addicted mother chased her high. I should have done a better job of looking out for her. If I could kick my own ass I would. I owed that woman so much. The images in my head, imagining that coward hitting her, sent revulsion searing through me. Anyone who could hurt someone as sweet as Ami didn’t have a soul.

When we’d been kids, she’d started calling me Ashes. The nickname stuck. I’d burned down our foster parents’ shed after our new dad took her in there and touched her. Even at that age I understood revenge and wanted blood. She’d told me I was her angel of ashes because I made the bad place burn.

How had that kid who risked everything for his sister ignored the bruises and her flinches whenever Will made a sudden move? At Christmas she’d laughed off my concern when I’d noticed her black eye. At Easter she’d had finger-shaped bruises on her upper arm. Deep down I’d known, but she’d acted happy. Everything had been okay. Or so I’d let myself believe.

I’d let my sister create a fantasy world for me, just like she had when I’d been a scared little boy and she’d built me pillow castles and told me stories of good dragons and a magical mother and father who loved us in a faraway kingdom. I let her lie to me to protect me until the day she’d called from the hospital.

* * *

Ashes?

I cringed. My sister’s voice was so weak. Ami?

Yeah, it’s me. I’m at United Presbyterian. Could you come? Room 3721.

What’s the matter? You sick?

Hurt.

She wasn’t normally this hard to draw into a conversation. Car accident?

No.

I exhaled far louder than I’d intended. "Come on, Ams, tell me what’s going