Graceful Ashes (21 page)

“I’m sorry for that.” He grabbed my hand I held tucked over my chest.

“I know. I’m sorry too, but I can’t handle reliving it over and over again. I’m not strong enough for that.”

A man clasped Hendrix on the shoulder. “Great opening tonight, man. I’d love to speak with you about purchasing a couple if possible.”

Hendrix’s attention was pulled away from me.

“Uh, sure. Give me just a second,” Hendrix said to the man.

I couldn’t allow him to lose a sale because of me so I took that moment as my escape. “I’ll talk with you later. I need to find Clara.” I backed away from Hendrix, forcing a closed lipped smile when all I honestly wanted to do was crawl in a hole somewhere and cry.

Before he had a chance to stop me I took off toward a dimly lit area of the studio. I turned a corner and pushed through a doorway that was marked for employees only. I needed some alone time to get my head back on straight.

My emotions were a jumbled mess of heartache, uncertainty, anger, and something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. The anger was toward Clara. Why had she pulled me to Hendrix’s studio? Pretending that she didn’t know we’d had an encounter when I told her. She was playing matchmaker with two people whose relationship was too fragile for that kind of meddling. Well intentioned or not.

A long fold-up table lined the wall to my left but no chairs were to be found. I braced my hands on the table and took a deep breath, hoping to calm myself enough to decide whether I should hang around or head home. I hated being thrown into something I wasn’t prepared for. Clara knew that, yet she’d done it anyway.

Hendrix seemed like a different person than he used to be. He’d finally opened an art studio like he never thought he could, and everyone seemed to be interested in his pieces. Even myself. I was happy to see things turning out better for him now. Maybe that meant he’d let go of his old ways and learned to put his time and efforts into something that he loved instead of dealing drugs.

I closed my eyes and whispered to myself, “What are you doing, Zoey?” I honestly had no idea why I was still at the studio. I’d run off to hide by myself, instead of hailing a cab and hitting the road. Did I want to talk to Hendrix some more about our past? Or was I simply hanging around because I felt obligated to Clara?

A warm hand gently stroking my arm startled me.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” His hand smoothed up my arm. “I’m sorry if I upset you earlier. It wasn’t my intention.”

The pain in his voice was my undoing. He was struggling with our situation as much as I was. In one swift motion, I turned and wrapped my arms around him. I buried my cheek against his chest as I held on to him like my life depended on it. He hesitated before his arms enveloped me and held me just as tightly against his chest. I needed to feel his body against mine, not in a sexual way, just to feel his warmth and see if that familiar unnerving feeling of how much I cared for him was still there.

Sure enough it was.

“God, how I’ve missed you, Zoey.”

Hendrix’s voice was low and muffled against my hair. I inhaled deeply before I lifted my head to take in his stormy eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this, Hendrix.”

He closed his eyes.

The hurt pulling at his beautiful features was killing me. Like the blade of a knife pushing slowly into my chest. Once he opened his eyes, I would lose the grip on my emotions.

I released him then turned and braced my hands on the table once again. I needed something to hold me up because I felt as if I was about to crumble to the floor.

I took deep breaths, willing myself to get my shit together. Tears rimmed my eyes to the point of blurring my view. They threatened to escape at any moment.

Hendrix’s hands smoothed up my side as the bridge of his nose, along and his forehead, rested against the side of my face.

I wanted to sigh from the warmth of his skin touching mine.

His nose gently moved up and down against my temple. “You’ve run through my thoughts and dreams since the day I lost you.”

I drew in a ragged breath.

“I never meant to hurt you back then, Zoey. I was lost—hell bent on not giving a shit about anyone but myself. But I’m not that guy anymore. Losing you made me realize how badly I needed to get my shit together, but even after I had, there was no way for me to find you again.”

“Hendrix.” His name fell from my lips on a strangled cry.

“Please hear me out.” He took a step back.

I was left instantly cold from the lack of his touch. “I don’t know if I can…” I whispered. I hung my head between my arms braced on the table.

“I know I don’t deserve for you to listen to what I have to say, not after what I caused you to lose. And yes, I played a huge part in causing your life to be thrown off track, even if you don’t believe so. But if you ever had any love for me, I beg of you, please hear me out.”

I turned to face him as a round of warm fat tears escaped my eyelids. “Okay.”

“I’m so sorry.” He pulled me into his chest. “You showed me that there’s more to life than getting high and living with the heartache of losing loved ones,” he murmured. “I fucked things up between us, Zoey, I know that. But I would spend the remainder of my life trying to make that up to you if you’d let me.”

A sob ripped from my chest as I succumbed to the heartache and pain that I’d bottled up for far too long. I mourned the loss of Hendrix, along with my shot at Juilliard to a certain extent…but never fully. Hendrix held me tightly against his chest as his hands rubbed smoothing circles against my back. I couldn’t form a response.

“I never let love in after my parent’s deaths until you. I love you, Zoey Fisher, with every inch of my heart and soul.”

I shook my head and pushed out of his hold. “Don’t say that,” I spat and my bottom lip quivered.

Hendrix threw his arms out wide. “Don’t say what? That I love you?”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around my midriff in an attempt to console myself.

“I’m done walking around the truth, so there it is.”

Hendrix stalked me until my back was flush with the wall. His warm peppermint breath danced across my face as he sliced through the stitches that closed off my heart once more.

“If I can’t have another shot with you, Zoey, I still want you to know how much I’ve loved you. Every time I smell strawberries it makes me think about your soft hair freshly shampooed.” He pushed his hand deep into my thick dark locks.

A sigh passed my lips.

“I miss your body wrapped around mine while we sleep, the sound of your laughter, and the way my heart beats out of my chest when you’re near.” Hendrix lifted my hand and placed it on his chest, just above where his heart rested.

I felt it slamming wildly against its cage.

“This.” Hendrix squeezed my hand. “Is what you do to me, Zoey. You make me feel alive again, and I will love you for the rest of my life for that reason alone.”

Instead of questioning everything, like I had been, I snaked
my
free hand snaked around his neck and pulled his lips to mine. At first the kiss was slow and cautious until a moan rolled up my throat, sending Hendrix into overdrive. One of his hands cupped my face as the other ran down the small of my back until he cupped my bottom. The feel of his hands on me again was doing things I hadn’t felt in a long time; since he last touched me to be exact.

He groaned as I nipped his bottom lip. Before I could process what was happening Hendrix had lifted me by my ass and my legs wrapped around his waist. He lowered me onto the table and rolled his pelvis against my most sensitive area as he continued to devour my mouth. Our tongues danced, our hands groped and massaged each other’s skin, and the sound of someone clearing their throat joined in.

Wait, what?

“What’s going on here?”

A woman’s voice caught my attention.

Hendrix jumped back as if I’d burned him.

I turned and sucked in a sharp breath when I found a tall, thin blonde in a short black cocktail dress standing with her arms crossed over her chest. Disgust and shock was on her face, probably at the sight of my flustered self still sitting on the table where Hendrix had abandoned me.

Why did he abandon me?

“Lace.” Hendrix spoke to the woman.

“Just get your ass out here,” she seethed. “People have been looking for you all night.”

“Oh, God,” I groaned as I slid off the table once the woman disappeared back into the studio. “You’re with her, aren’t you?” I didn’t give him time to reply. “I’m such a fool! God, I’m such a fucking fool!” I cried as I ran out of the room.

“Zoey, wait!”

Hendrix called after me but I didn’t stop. I quickly slipped through the even bigger crowd and out the front doors, not stopping as I continued to hear him call after me. I hoped and prayed someone would stop him along the way.

As I rushed down the sidewalk I tossed my hand in the air to hail a cab. Only a fraction of a second later, one to pulled up and I slipped inside. As I rambled off my address, the cabbie took off. I glanced back at Des Cendres to find Hendrix standing out front with that blonde berating him, but his attention wasn’t on her…it was on my cab.

Chapter Twenty One

As soon as I flung open my front door, I kicked my heels off and headed straight for the kitchen. The newly opened bottle of wine on the counter was calling my name. I couldn’t believe how the night had unfolded. Clara had set me up, Hendrix had reeled me in, and my heart had shattered once again…but this time by the new woman in his life.

“I never learn.” I shook my head as I popped the cork. Using a glass would just delay the inevitable, so might as well by-pass that, right? I turned the bottle up and chugged the sweet yet bitter liquid down until I couldn’t breathe. I slammed the bottle on the counter and braced my arms on the edge with my head hanging between them. How had I gotten myself into another mess with that man? His presence pushed my mind out the window it seemed. I needed to put as much distance as possible between us again. Because I knew my heart couldn’t handle another catastrophe.

Loud pounding on my door broke my internal pity party. Clara. Determined to confront me about running off since I hadn’t answered her fifteen phone calls. Even though I was still angry she’d played matchmaker, the last thing I needed was to blow a gasket at her. She’s the only person who understood everything I’d dealt with, and continued to deal with over the years. I couldn’t risk losing her. So instead of answering her calls or opening the door, I was going to put some space between the two of us for the night and talk to her when my head was clearer.

That’s if she’d stop pounding on my damn front door.

I tipped the bottle up once again and chugged down an extra large gulp ignoring the pounding. Anger boiled within me with each strike of her fist. Not blowing a gasket at Clara was officially out the window.

I ripped the door open. “Seriously? When someone doesn’t…” My eyes focused on Hendrix standing before me instead of Clara.

“What you saw…” Hendrix quickly started to explain.

I stepped back and shoved the door.

He wedged his foot between the door and its frame. “You haven’t changed one damn bit.” A humorless laugh passed his lips.

I scoffed as I swung the door open again. “What the hell does that mean?”

Hendrix stalked past me. “It means you never hear people out. You jump to conclusions and run away without giving anyone the chance to fucking explain.”

The door slammed as I leaned back against it. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

He stopped in the center of the living room, his back to me as he placed his hands on the top of his head. I knew he was thinking of what to say next. Hell, I was thinking about what to say next. Honestly, I was a little shell shocked by his statement. After a few silent beats I slid down the door, extending my legs once I was seated on the floor and crossed my ankles so I wasn’t showing off my goods since I was still in the skirt Clara had made me wear.

“How many times do I have to tell you how I really feel, Zoey?” Hendrix faced me but kept the distance between us.

“I don’t know…” I mumbled.

“I’m sorry.” Hendrix sighed. “I have no right to be angry with you. Even if you infuriate the shit out of me at times.”

We both laughed.

“Ditto.”

“What you thought was happening at the studio isn’t what it seems.”

“Hendrix—”

“Let me finish.” He held up a hand. “Lacey’s my assistant. There’s absolutely nothing going on between us, and there never has been. She was pissed that I wasn’t mingling with the people who’d come to the opening, she wasn’t pissed because I was with you.”

His explanation wasn’t what I was expecting. Hendrix wasn’t making me the other woman. I never thought I would say that he was right about me running for the hills when things took a turn, but he was indeed right. Just like two years ago, when I hadn’t said goodbye because it would’ve hurt too much. But this time I was running without getting an explanation. To say I’m my own worst enemy would’ve been an understatement.

“I’m such an asshole.”

Hendrix crossed the room and knelt in front of me. “No, you’re a woman who misread the situation because she’s been hurt in the past.”

“I’m sorry.” I smiled sadly.

His hand smoothed up my shin, over my knee, and stopped on my thigh. “There’s no need to apologize. We’ve both had asshole moments.”

I chuckled. “That we have.”

Hendrix slid his hand over mine and pulled it up to his lips. “Come back to the studio with me?”

The tenderness in his voice caused me to shiver. “Right now?”

He smiled sweetly. “Yes, right now.”

Hendrix stood and extended his hand. I slipped mine into his and he pulled me to my feet, wrapping his arms around me as I rested against his chest. Being in his arms again felt right, it felt like home…and that scared me. But before I allowed my mind to get the best of me, I slid my hands up his back and held on tightly for a brief moment.

“Of course I’ll go back to the studio with you.”

A heavy breath of relief passed his lips just before he kissed the top of my head and I silently sighed my own breath of relief.

The room came to life as Hendrix flipped the light switches one at a time. We’d entered through the back in case there were people out front hanging around. He had informed me that late at night the sketchier crowd from a block or two over liked to mingle along his street. I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up my throat at him calling, pretty much the same type of people he used to be associated with a sketchier crowd.

“I’m glad you find that amusing.” He chuckled.

“Very much so.”

He locked the door behind us before leading me through the same damn room our crazy night had unfolded. I bit the inside of my lip in an attempt to hide the smile that was trying to engulf my face.

“That’s my new favorite table.” Hendrix widely grinned.

“Shut up.” I playfully smacked his arm.

“What?” He laughed as he held the door that led out into the studio open for me.

With the studio being empty, I could easily take in each individual piece. The open floor plan was a perfect way to showcase a single theme of art, and that’s exactly what Hendrix had done.

My eyes scanned each work of art before we reached them. When realization of what his theme was for the current display hit me, I sucked in a sharp breath and stopped dead in my tracks.

“Zoey?” Hendrix’s eyebrows dipped low.

“Why would you use fire as your theme for this exhibit?” My voice was barely audible.

“There’s something I haven’t told you.”

His words echoed in my head as I felt my stomach drop to the floor. Whatever he hadn’t told me most likely wasn’t something good, and as much as I was used to getting shitty news, I still had to prepare myself as well as possible for what could be the worst.

My heart pounded in my chest as I watched Hendrix make his way to one particular piece of art that hung toward the back of the room all by its lonesome. A large light hung above it, casting a spotlight on it. The piece was slightly different than the others. It had more detail, along with different textures and pieces of…trash maybe, plastered to it. We stopped directly in front of it and stood silently for a few long moments before Hendrix cleared his throat to speak again.

“The one day that shattered America as a whole, shattered my entire life.” Hendrix’s eyes were fixated on the canvas.

I took a few extra steps forward to get a better look. What I saw had tears rimming my eyes almost instantly. So many items were molded together to form a beautiful array of heartache and pain for so many, but little had I known that the heartache was even deeper for Hendrix than it was for most.

“September eleventh, two thousand and one…I remember that day like it was yesterday. Constantly on repeat in the back of my head, forcing me to relive the moment as I sat in class and watched the North Tower fall while the South Tower continued to crumble into a burning pile of debris.”

Tears raced down my face as the realization of where his confession was going.

“I wasn’t an idiot,” he said.

A humorless clipped laugh passed his lips as I ran my hand over the artwork that reflected the hurt of Hendrix’s past.

“No matter how many times someone tried to console me, to tell me that there was a chance my parents made it out alive, I knew they most likely hadn’t. Maybe if they were on a lower level…maybe if they’d gone to grab a coffee, or breakfast, or
something
. But you know how they say a mother’s intuition is usually right, well, my intuition was right that day. I felt that they were gone as I watched the two towers turn from large skyscraping buildings to bellowing smoke, flames, and eventually ashes.”

“I can’t even imagine.” I choked out through my silent sobs.

“Having your parents jerked out of your life unexpectedly isn’t something anyone can be prepared for.”

“No, it isn’t,” I whispered.

Just like the others, this piece of art wasn’t named. However the intensity of its message was more than enough to make someone feel just how emotionally charged the piece was. Twisted metal and rebar outlined the canvas littered with pieces of the rubble from Ground Zero. Two individual company logos that had been seared and damaged from smoke and flames to the point of not being able to read the company names were mixed in with the rubble and metal pieces. It didn’t take a genius to know that those companies must’ve been the ones his parents worked for. A firefighter’s patch and a police officer’s badge were placed in the center, molded together as if they were one. Much like those two first response agencies were on that day, and the days to come afterwards. Hendrix had smudged charcoal throughout the once white canvas to mimic smoke and ash, but the item that broke my heart the most was the family portrait that had been burned around the edges and tucked away in the bottom right-hand corner. A curly headed teenager tucked between a woman and a man, bright smiles on all three of their faces. In his hands, the boy held some kind of award certificate that I couldn’t quite make out.

“That’s the last photograph I have with my parents.”

A dull pain radiated through my heart as I placed a shaky hand on the photograph. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Hendrix. No one deserves to lose the people they love in the way we both have.”

I closed my eyes when I realized what I’d said. I’d told Hendrix I’d lost my family, but I’d never told him how. We were tied together more than he knew. Maybe sharing my story would help him…would me…would help both of us to heal.

“Zoey?”

His loving voice broke my thoughts and I opened my tear filled eyes.

“Are you okay?”

I placed a hand on his bicep. “I need to tell you my story.”

His eyebrows dipped low. “What do you mean?”

“How I lost my parents.”

His eyes softened and he nodded.

“When I was younger I used to have these nightmares that horrified me. I’d wake up and run to Talon’s room knowing he would rock me to sleep and everything would be okay. My parents used to get so mad when they’d find me in his bed the next morning. Not because they didn’t want us sleeping in the same bed, but they felt him allowing me to do that wouldn’t be good for me in the long run. Like I would develop a dependency for him to comfort me from the bad things of life or something. One night I had the worst dream I’d ever experienced so I did like every other night, I went to Talon’s room. He tried to convince me to go back to mine; he even carried me into my own room and laid on top of my covers until I fell asleep.” I paused and inhaled a shaky breath. “The next thing I knew I was being hoisted into the air as Talon frantically carried me through our smoke filled house. I cried and cried as I begged him to go get Madden and our parents. But I didn’t understand that the fire was too intense in back part of the house where Talon’s and my parents’ rooms were. Mine was toward the front of the hallway. The fire started in our parent’s room, from a candle our mother had lit and forgotten to put out. She loved Christmas candles…always had them burning. But that night the candles she loved the most took their lives, along with Maddens. His crib was in their bedroom. The fire department told us that there was no way we could’ve saved them, and if Talon had been in his own room, we wouldn’t have made it out alive either. But deep down in my heart and soul, I’ve always felt that it was my fault. That my hero of a brother, Talon, could’ve saved everyone if he had been in his own room that night instead of in mine.” My hand shook as I covered my mouth and turned my back to Hendrix. A sob broke from deep within my chest. Admitting I was the reason we’d lost my family wasn’t easy to do, and the shame of how that night unfolded still weighed heavily on me.