Heart of Stone (Rock Star Fairy Tales #1)

Chapter 24

C h apte r 24

Catastrophic Emotional Outbursts

Afternoon, Friday, Febr uary 20 th in Margot’s Bus in North east Armav

H ours later, Margot stared at the road through the windshield, eyes squinting in the bright sunshine, part of her still not willing to accept what Ash had said. They had dressed quietly, neither speaking beyond necessity, the comfortable morning glow abating as Margot’s spiral intensified. Ash held her for a bit, offering comfort when she stopped moving, suddenly losing her entire focus. She knew she had an idea of the next step, the next move, but suddenly, her mind was blank, everything f orgotten.

It was not the first time she had lost herself this way. Ash had been there for her then, when he helped her demolish the returned bus and rebuild it. He had been the one to hand her the sledgehammer, seeming to understand her need to vent some rage in physical destruction. He had also been the one to hold her when she fell apart, allowing her time to grieve and accept her new reality in her own time.

He didn’t speak, offering his bodily comfort as she needed—and obliging eagerly when she had reached up to kiss him, losing herself in him again. For all the obstacles that lay between them, Ash understood the silent longing inside Margot, giving what she needed without needin g to ask.

Is that why it took a magic bottle of wine for us to actually get together? she wondered, stealing a glance at Ash who sat in the passenger seat, face blank as he watched the road ahead. We needed words to finally admit how we feel? Words neither of us can say.

Now that the effects of the wine had passed, she was wondering if the forthright Ash she had known last night would vanish into the distant, silent one she recalled. He hadn’t seemed to mind her invitation that morning, meeting her lust with a passion that allowed her to forget everything. She let herself recall the details, the touch of Ash’s lips on her skin, his warm hands pressed hard against her back, her fingers twined in his hair while the other hand clutched his hip as s he moved.

“Go!” he shouted, and she opened her eyes—not realizing she had shut them—and brought the bus back onto the road. She had only closed her eyes for a second, but it was long enough for the bus to find the road’s shoulder as the highway twisted back down the mountainside, closing the distance to the Gen c border.

“Sorry,” she blurted.

“You okay?” he pressed. “I c an drive.”

“As if. I’m okay,” she insisted. Part of her wanted to take him up on the offer so she could close her eyes again, recall the feel of his kiss, the press of his body beneath hers—to forget everything else he had told her and remember only the way he could make her body feel. But she knew better, knew she couldn’t bury herself in her desire for Ash and ignore the truths he had revealed. And no one drove her bu s but her.

“You want to talk?” he prompted.

She bit her lip, not sure how to reply. Talking had started this whole thing, hadn’t it? She longed to share her confusion, to find out more, to understand this new world and her pla ce in it.

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I don’t know what I wan t to say.”

“What can I do?” he asked, and the openness of the question b roke her.

“You can—” Margot began, tears flooding her eyes. “You—” she blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision, but the gate had been opened, and she couldn’t stop. She took her foot off the gas pedal, letting the bus slow to a stop on the side of the road. As soon as she pulled up the parking brake, Ash was there, unbuckling her seat belt and pulling her into his lap, holding her tightly as sh e sobbed.

Margot wasn’t sure exactly why she was crying—only that if she didn’t let it out, she was going to explode. Maybe it was for the loss of the life she had known, being thrust into this new threatening world; maybe it was the overwhelming knowledge that the world she had known had never been what she thought, and she had been so wrong about everything. Maybe it was finally being with Ash—and the knowledge that he would never be hers—no t really.

Amid the flood of her tears and her emotions, Margot felt something growing within her, a dazzling power that threatened to burst through her skin, and with a gasp, she sat up, knees pressed into the seat alongside Ash’s thighs as she faced the back of her bus, and flung her arms out to the side as her back arched. Her right arm hit the passenger window with a loud bang at the same moment lightning cracked the sky, immediately followed by a huge crash of thunder.

Rain poured from the sky.

Margot’s body heaved, and she took in a gasping breath, feeling like she had just run at top speed for long minutes. She blinked, limbs heavy, and her arms slowly fell to her sides. Ash caught her hand, the one that had hit the window, and he cradled it, keeping it from hitting anything else as she slumped down into his arms, head collapsing on his shoulder. The rain pounded on the roof of the bus, a settling sound, and for a time, Margot might have slept, lulled into comfort by t he sound.

“Go,” Ash said, his quiet voice creeping into h er dream.

“Mmm?” she asked, still lost in a vision where she lay cradled with Ash’s arms around her body, holding her possessively. She snuggled closer to him, loving how their bodies fit together.

“Margot,” he said again, this tim e louder.

“Hmm?” she managed, slowly groping her way back to wakefulnes s. “What?”

“You need to stop,” he said gently, one hand gently caressing the back of her head. “Let it go, baby.”

“Let what go?” she mumbled, her brain slowly catching up. Did Ash just cal l me baby?

“Let it go,” he repeated, hands sliding down to rub her upper arms. “Jus t … stop.”

“What?” she demanded, annoyed now. “What are you talking about?” She sat up, looking down at him with a scowl.

“The rain,” he said slowly. “Margot, you have to stop the rain.”

She glanced out the window where sheets of rain were sliding across the glass. Another bang of thunder accompanied a flash of lightning. Margot cocked her head—the storm must be right on top of them if the lightning and thunder were simultaneous. “It’s just a storm,” she said, weariness sneaking through her body. There was a gust of wind, and she felt the entire bus shift. Ash’s hold on her became firm. “Margot,” he said, sharp no w. “Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything!” she told him.

He reached up to grab her chin, making her look at him. His face danced and shimmered in her vision. “You … need … to … stop,” he said, each word clipped, her hearing dipping in and out, “or … you … will … kill … us … both.” A dark haze was encroaching on the edges of her eyesight, a low buzz beginning in her ears. She reached out to touch Ash, her palm landing solidly in the center of his chest as she tilted dangerously. “Let go,” he said again, then reached out to kiss her.

His touch was soft, lips gentle, and as her mouth moved against his, she could feel the sense of draining slow down, a trickle of energy that eased and finally stopped. She shuddered against him, then sagged, all of her strength gone, and his hand guided her head back to his shoulder.

“Good,” he said in the same soothing voice. “You did good.” Hands patted her back as the sound of the storm outside abated, the pounding water diminishing to a summer drizzle, and then nothing.

“Rest, Margot,” Ash said, tucking her close on his lap. “I’ve got you.”