Page 37 of Branded Souls (Ember Hollow Romance #3)

Skye

“ Y ou always were a snoop, weren’t you, sis?”

I spun around at the sound of his voice, heart in my throat. Ash stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets. I couldn’t read the expression on his face. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t hurt. It was almost…blank. Nothing.

I swallowed down my fear, trying not to lose my mind.

This was my brother. This was Ash. I’d known him since he was a baby. This couldn’t be Ash’s doing. It couldn’t.

I gestured toward all the pictures surrounding us. So many of them were taken without my consent. “What is all this?”

His gaze darted around the room before locking back on me. “It’s…a lot of work.”

My stomach clenched. His voice was so…flat. My brain couldn’t piece together what was really happening.

“You were always a hard worker, Ash,” I said, trying desperately to keep my voice steady. “But what is all of this for? ”

Something in his eyes flashed, breaking through the deadpan coldness. He shook his head, letting out a brief, humorless chuckle. “For someone who prides herself on finding out the truth, I’m surprised you have no idea.”

I gritted my teeth, fighting the terror. “I guess I’m not as good as I thought I was.”

Ash sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “You are, though. You just don’t want to see it.” He stared at me; the hair on the back of my neck bristled. “This all started when you left us.”

Us .

“When I left you and—our father?”

Finally, some anger crossed his face. “There wasn’t much I could do, Skye. He wouldn’t let me leave. He wouldn’t let me go unless I promised to help him.”

“Help him?” I rasped, throat tight. What had I done? What had I let happen to my little brother? “What did he need help with?”

He flinched at those words, looking away. “Making sure you were safe. He never wanted to let you go, either.”

The words felt heavy. They plunked down to the depths of the hidden place inside my soul where I buried unwanted memories. “Where is he, Ash?”

He cocked his head to the side. “I told you, he’s not here anymore.”

I took a cautious step toward him, to gauge how he’d react. He didn’t. There was no other way out of this room but the door he was blocking. The only window had the desk and monitors in front of it.

“Do you know where he went? Is he close?”

He gave one slow blink, and my gut knotted even more. “He’s always close.”

I shook my head, getting frustrated with the way he talked in circles. “I need you to let me out of here.”

“Oh.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t do that.”

A shot of anxiety pierced me. I took another step, and this time, his eyes shot to my feet. His brow creased. “Yes, you can,” I said, trying to sound calm.

When his gaze met mine, there was pain in his. “You can’t leave me.”

Something shifted in the air. Something instinctual inside me urged me to move. To run.

My muscles coiled. Freedom lay behind the doorway. He seemed to understand what I was thinking.

He lunged for me.

I used the only thing I had to my advantage: my smaller frame. I was faster.

I juked to the right, ducking under his left arm and sprinting toward the doorway. He grunted, but I didn’t look back at him as I fixed my stare ahead. Focused on the task. I needed to get out. Out of this room. Out of this house.

I made it to the hallway, but the triumph was short-lived as something grabbed the back of my shirt.

I stumbled, and a hand wrapped around my arm.

I yanked away as fast and hard as I could.

His nails scratched my skin, but I was suddenly free, the resistance gone momentarily as I ran farther down the hall.

I had almost made it back into the living room when his forearm wrapped around my waist. He pulled me hard against him, and I let out a scream.

I flailed, using my elbows, my hands, my feet, whatever I could possibly use to kick or hit him.

But he was too close, and nothing landed with enough power .

“Calm down,” he panted in my ear, winded. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No?” I spat, using all my body weight to lean forward. He was like iron, though. Unrelenting. I barely moved an inch. “Then let me go!”

“I can’t.” His voice broke, sounding so desperate that it almost made me pause. “I need to keep you safe.”

He sounded on the verge of tears. But I couldn’t stop fighting.

With all the strength I had in me, I used my legs to push off the floor.

He stumbled back into the wall with a heavy thump.

That iron grip loosened slightly, and I twisted my body, dropping back toward the floor and slipping out of his grasp yet again.

I lurched forward, half crawling, half stumbling away from him. The front door was so close now. I reached for it—

An arm wrapped around my neck, locking tight. I clawed at his forearm, at his elbow, kicked back as hard as I could. He applied pressure, squeezing until the world tipped.

“Stop fighting me,” he hissed, breath hot in my ear. “I’m trying to help you.”

My lungs burned. Everything blurred as he held me in the headlock, cutting off the blood to my brain.

There was a roaring in my ears. My fingers went numb. My knees buckled.

I didn’t want to go. I tried to hold on.

But then everything went black.

T he next thing I was aware of was motion. A flash of light and then darkness again.

I was being dragged. Arms were hooked under my shoulders, legs scraping along. My heels thudded against wooden…stairs?

My eyelids fluttered. “Ash…?”

He didn’t answer, tightening his grip.

Pain bloomed in my throat—a dull ache that pulsed with every heartbeat.

I tried to twist away. My fingers curled weakly, searching for something to hold onto. There was nothing.

Everything felt like it was spinning, like I couldn’t get a grasp on the real world.

The next time I woke, it was colder.

The air was damp and heavy. My cheek was pressed to rough concrete; the scent of dust and mildew filled my nose.

I groaned.

Footsteps scuffed nearby, and a door screeched shut with a metallic clang that echoed around me.

A lock clicked.

I shifted and blinked against the dim overhead light.

As my vision cleared, I realized I was inside an unfamiliar room.

It wasn’t large—barely enough space to pace ten steps in any direction.

The walls were almost…padded? Not with cushions or foam, but layered with soft material meant to muffle sound.

There were no windows—just one heavy, metal door.

Nothing else was in the room but a stained mattress, and a plastic bucket in the corner .

Terror slammed through me. I lurched upright, heart hammering as I took it all in.

Then, I saw him.

Ash sat in a folding chair by the door, hunched forward, elbows on his knees. He was so pale. Sweat glistened on his forehead and darkened the collar of his shirt.

“You’re all right,” he said, more to himself than to me.

“No, I’m not,” I snapped, dragging myself upright against the nearest wall. My limbs shook. “What is this? Where are we?”

If it were possible, he went even paler.

“This isn’t for long, Skye.” He nodded, as if to reassure himself. His eyes were wide, almost frantic. Nothing like the dull detachment I’d seen earlier. “You just need to be here until you realize that it’s best if we’re together. That you’re safest here. This is your home.”

My mouth fell open. “What are you talking about?” My voice came out high and unsteady. “Ash, what is this place?”

“This is where he kept me, too.” He looked away. “Dad built this room into the back corner of the basement.”

Nausea twisted in my gut as I froze. I looked around again at the makeshift room. The strange padding. The absence of light. The bucket. The bolted door.

This was a cage.

Goose bumps broke out along my arms as the air seemed to vanish from the room. My head snapped back to Ash. “You have to let me out,” I said. “You can’t keep me in here.”

Ash’s jaw ticced. “It’s what’s best right now.”

“What’s best?” I gasped. “What’s best is that you let me go. Right now. ”

I hated the desperate edge in my voice, but this was a nightmare. My pulse thundered in my ears.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “Dad kept me down here for a while after he found out the trouble I was getting into. He said it was to protect me.” He glanced at the four walls closing us in. “You’ll be protected here.”

I started gasping for breath, panic taking root inside my chest. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. My brother wouldn’t do this to me.

“Ash…” My voice cracked, and the room began to spin. “Is he here? Did he tell you to do this?”

Ash’s entire body stiffened. Something dark crossed over his face. Something furious and broken.

“He doesn’t tell me what to do anymore,” he said through clenched teeth. “I thought we were doing the right thing by keeping track of you, making sure you were safe, but then I found out that he’s a liar.”

I gaped at him, lost and horrified. “What did you do, Ash?”

His head tilted, stare unfocused—as if he were seeing through me.

“He’s back there now,” Ash said, voice vacant of emotion. “He’s been there for the last seven years. He doesn’t bother me. He doesn’t bother anyone anymore.”

He hooked a thumb, gesturing toward the wall behind him.

Following the direction he pointed, I tried to make sense of it. I traced the layout of the house in my mind, trying to orient myself, to figure out where that wall faced.

My eyes widened when it sunk in. He was pointing toward the backyard.

Ice shot through me. My limbs trembled as it clicked.

“Did you…did you kill him?”

Ash’s expression hardened. “I did what I had to do.”

I swallowed back vomit. Not for the man who had made our childhood a living hell—but for Ash. For whatever had snapped inside him that had led us here.

“Oh, Ash…” I whispered, tears springing to my eyes.

He clenched his fists. Scratches covered his hands and arms—scratches from me. From dragging me down here. From the struggle. They were raw and angry, like the fire behind his words.

“He deserved it,” Ash snapped. “He killed her, Skye. He told me he did. I couldn’t let him live after that.”

It was like being punched in the chest. I couldn’t breathe. The room swayed, tilting as if the floor might fall out from under me.

“What—” I couldn’t think. “What are you talking about?”

Ash’s gaze met mine. For a moment, he looked so sad.

“He killed our mom,” he said softly. “He killed her and dumped her body where no one will ever find it.”

I stared at him, numb.

“I’m sorry I lied to you about Jane Doe,” he added.

“I didn’t want you to know the real truth.

I never—never thought you’d find anything about that cold case.

I figured it would keep you busy. Keep you from digging too deep.

Shield you from the horror of knowing it was our own flesh and blood who did her in. ”

Ash’s eyes stayed locked on mine for a beat longer.

I blinked at him. “You lied to me?”

“I wanted you to think the bracelet was hers, but only because I wanted time.”

My head started to shake as if on its own. This wasn’t happening. Was all of this Ash? The entire time ?

Tears rolled down my face. “Tell me everything,” I demanded, voice shaking, trying to sound stronger than I was.

Ash let out a long, slow breath. His expression shifted as he got to his feet and pushed back his shoulders. “I’ll tell you everything, in time.” A nervous hand ran through his hair, fingers leaving it standing in uneven spikes.

“Tell me now!” I almost screamed the words.

He didn’t answer. Not right away. He moved toward the metal door. “I need to take care of some things,” he muttered. “I’ll come back when you’ve settled in more.”

I stared at him, disoriented. “Wait.” I struggled to push myself upright. “Ash, wait—”

My knees buckled. I stumbled and caught myself against the wall with one trembling hand.

But Ash was already opening the door.

“No—please!” I shouted.

Keys jingled in his hand. His movements were fast and frenzied.

I lunged, but I was too slow.

Ash slipped out, and the door slammed shut behind him. I heard the chink of the lock a second later.

My fist slammed against the door. “Ash!”

But there was no response. I was locked inside, with no way out.