Page 117 of Pieces of Ash

“Your mama was one stupid bitch.” He laughs, his fingers pulling my hair, hurting. “She came out to New York, thinking I was going to make her life easy. She could take her drugs and do her stupid shit and, well, well, well, it didn’t work out like that, did it? The dumb cunt. I only wanted her for you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Anders. He’s staring at the porch steps, his jaw twitching in anger as his father talks about Tig.

“I used to dream of you while I was fucking her,” continues Mosier. “Ashley. Ashley, I’d think. One day, I’m gonna pump you with my cum and watch your belly grow huge. I’m gonna fuck you while your tits are full of milk. I’m gonna use you like a fucking cow.”

His words are so repulsive, I swallow back a mouthful of vomit.

I flick a glance at Anders, then back at Mosier. “She fucking hated you.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, guess what. I don’t give a shit,” he says. “Good screamer, though. Real good screamer.”

“Did she scream when you killed her?” I demand as tears stream down my face.

“Ha! You got some spirit now, eh?” he says, his voice both admiring and disgusted. “Tsk, tsk, little beauty. That won’t work for me. I’ll have to beat that out of you,cenusa. I raised you the way I want you. Pure. Dutiful. Ready to fuck whenever I want you.”

“Admit it,” I sob. I fist my fingers at my sides and scream at him. “Admit you fucking killed her!”

He leans close to me. So close, I can smell the cigar he smoked in the car on the way up here. “She didn’t scream when I put the needle in her arm. She was fucking quiet. For once.”

My head falls forward, my shoulders shaking with the force of my sobs. “I’m sorry, Tig. I’m so sorry.”

“What areyousorry for? I was done with that dumb fucking cunt. I was ready for?—”

A gunshot rings out, and Mosier lurches back. I stumble as he falls to the porch floor. His hand on my neck loosens, and I scramble to my feet again just as Julian bursts out of the house and grabs my arm, pulling me behind him.

“Ash! What happened?”

I stare at Anders, who stands at the bottom of the steps, the gun in his hand lightly smoking.

“Anders!” I gasp.

Julian points his gun at my stepbrother, who drops his piece to the ground.

“He fucking killed her,” says Anders softly, as though in a trance. “He killed her.”

“What thefuck, Anders?” screams Damon, forgetting about Simmons, who is still lying in a heap on the gravel. “You shot him! You shot ourfather, you crazy bastard!”

“But…” A dazed Anders turns to his brother. “He killed her, Damon. He killed Tig.”

“Who gives a shit? I don’t fucking care!”

“Youshouldcare!” screams Anders. “You should fucking?—”

Another gunshot interrupts the brothers, and I watch in horror as Anders stumbles backward, a large bloody spot marring the crisp light blue of his dress shirt. He reaches up to his heart, then pulls his hand away, staring at the blood as he collapses to the ground.

“Anders!No!” Damon falls to the ground beside his twin. “Fuck. Oh, Jesus. Fuck! No!”

At my feet, Mosier is holding a gun. In a low, breathy voice, he says, “She was mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to…”

Whether he passes out or dies, I’m not sure, but Julian pushes me to the side, kicking Mosier’s gun out of reach and training his own on my stepfather. Mosier’s chest doesn’t rise or fall. I think he’s dead. I think he used his last second alive to kill his child, and I’m filled with such bleakness for this twisted family, I’m weak.

Agent Simmons staggers to his feet and takes off in the direction of the barn while Damon cradles his brother’s head in his lap, crying.

I rush down the stairs, toward my stepbrothers, and Damon looks up at me, his cheeks wet and glistening in the moonlight. “Do s-something, Ashley. H-Help me. Helphim!”

I kneel down on Anders’s other side, looking into his face, into his eyes, which he’s fighting to keep open. He looks at me, his face softening, relaxing.

“Teagan,” he says softly and slowly, his lips tilting up into a smile.