Page 87 of Power of Shadow

I take off my jacket and drape it over the back of the chair. The urge to comfort her is strong, but the urge to see her finally open up to me is stronger. “Take your time. It all has to start somewhere.”

Staring at me, she settles herself more comfortably. “The beginning isn’t any easier, Ryker. Charles Baker is my and Zoe’s biological father. I found out only when we met at Alex’s pub. Before that, the only parent we had was our mother. Except... she wasn’t really our mother. Our childhood wasn’t easy. We never had birthday parties in the back yard where kids from kindergarten fought over a piñata. We didn’t visit other kids’ homes, we didn’t go to dance classes, and we didn’t go on vacation. Instead, we had a mother who lost her way very early in motherhood when she was left alone.”

“He left you?” My anger at that son of a bitch grows with every word because I can feel where this is going.

“I don’t know. Probably. At first, I didn’t mind when it was just me and my mom. You don’t miss something you don’t know. When I was five, Zoe was born, and there were three of us. I loved my little sister from the first second I saw her. Taking care of her, feeding her, changing her diapers—it was like playing house. Except I didn’t notice when I started playing Mom.”

Ash’s voice pauses for a moment. Her eyes are fixed on a single point, absent. I know she’s not with me right now. She’s trapped in the clutches of the past.

“Our mother had problems she didn’t tell us about, of course, but she found a great way to numb her pain. Drugs became what we couldn’t give her: an escape. I didn’t know what I was doing, Ryker. Now I’m terrified of how instinctively I fought for our survival. Back then, I was just looking out for Zoe and our mom.“

“Jesus Christ,” I blurt out, seeing it in my mind. “But Charles must have somehow made his way through your house, since Zoe showed up.”

“To be honest, I can’t be one hundred percent sure he’s her father. I saw him for the first time when he was standing by that damn helicopter. It’s messed up. I guess my desire to protect us prevents me from accepting the idea that we might have different fathers. But it’s very likely. Most of the time, my mother didn’t even know what was going on at home. She was interested in drugs and making money for them, not buying milk for a baby. You don’t even know how many times we were in danger of not living to see the next morning. I tried to be an adult, but I didn’t always succeed—”

Ash catches her breath. She’s still there at her family home. She relives it every moment, and my heart fills with anger and regret. I wish I could take that burden off her shoulders.

“Once, Zoe almost fell out the window. Another time, while trying to make dinner, I almost burned our house down. When I was ten, I pushed Zoe too hard on the swing. She fell, hit her head, and lost consciousness. I thought I’d killed her. It was a nightmare.”

It’s hard to comprehend how much this woman has been through. Lowering my head and closing my eyes, I try to calm my breathing.

I can’t just hear that my woman was hurt so badly; I need to know everything about her. The truth. Her whole life story, even if it’s so damn painful.

She’s a real fighter.

“At first, one shot was enough for my mom, then a second and another. Then she learned how to prolong its effect, because fentanyl administered intravenously lasts for a relatively short time. But when swallowed, it lasts for up to several hours—only it works with a delay. Sometimes she would drink a dose and have another one injected to get her through to the next phase. I was slowly killing her myself.” Ash blinks to sharpen her teary eyes.

While I have the urge to go and hug her, I’m simultaneously worried about interrupting her life’s narrative. She no longer faces life by herself, and that will never change. I’m here for her. Currently and for the foreseeable future.

“If you don’t want to...”

“No, no. It’s okay. It’s just that these memories haunt me, and the guilt keeps me awake. Because that’s the truth, Ryker. I was killing her. With every single injection, I was hammering a nail into her coffin.”

Her eyes carry so much sadness and weight... She looks at me with fire in her eyes, but this time it’s not a good fire. It’s called guilt and self-hatred.

“It’s not your fault, Ash. You didn’t know what she was doing. It was her choice and her responsibility,” I reassure her gently.

“Money was always a problem. There was never enough, and over time we had less and less to eat. I often stole her change so I could feed Zoe. She had no idea or memory of how much change she had in her pocket. We were a burden in her life. When she was really desperate, she would disappear for a while with some guys. She was popular with the local motorcycle clubs, because I remember them taking her away from home many times. Sometimes it lasted two days, sometimes a weekend, later even a week. Until she replenished her supply of new drugs. Until one day she went too far. I mean—”

“Golden shot.” I rub my face with my hands. I can’t wrap my head around it all.

“Actually—it wasn’t—not her,” Ash stammers, trying to say something really important.

Cold sweat pours down my neck, and my stomach clenches. I know where this story is going.

“Ash, you don’t have to.”

“I’ve told this to no one. No one knows the truth, Ryker, not even Zoe. My mother didn’t stick that needle into herself. She didn’t pump the poison into her veins.”

I spring into action the moment the first tears roll down her beautiful cheeks. My heart breaks.

Sitting down next to her, I pull her close. Her wet face rests on my chest, and I don’t let her move an inch until the last tears have fallen. She cries and sobs, letting out everything she has kept so tightly inside all these years.

I don’t care about my wet shirt. I don’t care about the streaks of mascara running down her face. I wipe her cheeks with my thumbs and kiss her forehead.

“It wasn’t your fault. Do you understand?”

Ash’s lower lip trembles. “I couldn’t tell the truth then. I panicked that they would separate me from Zoe and I’d never see her again. She was only eight when we entered the system. I did everything I could to keep us together.”