Page 60 of Ashes to Ash’s

“Yeah. The woman who did to him, and to me, what they tried to do to you. She deserved it, okay? That cunt deserved to die.”

Ren flinched at that word, but didn’t disagree with me.

“It bothers him that he did it though.”

It wasn’t a question, because it was fucking obvious he was asking rather than telling, right?

“Yeah. So I need to go make nice with him. Maybe suck him off or something, until he stops sulking. You gonna be okay down here?”

Was it right or fair to disappear on Ren so suddenly, especially for what might turn into borderline abusive fucking, but I’d hurt Cal and it was also an important lesson for Ren that we had to make up for the harm we do. Apparently.

Cal wasn’t in our room upstairs, no, he was leaning on the railing overhanging the stairs, like he was waiting for me to hunt him down. He watched me head up the steps toward him, that cranky look still on his face.

“That wasn’t necessary, Ash.”

I shrugged as I joined him, and leaned beside him, staring down at the empty hallway.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, she deserved what she got. She was a fucking parasite, and needed to die. You can’t tell me you regret killing her?”

His breath rushed out of him and he sagged against the railing.

“Of course I do! Not because I think she deserved better, but because that’s… that’s not who I am. I’m a good person. I… I was… I was good…” his voice grew quieter and quieter with every word, and I could see his belief in his good character diminishing with every breath.

Somehow I had to say the right thing here. I had to reassure him, or show him love and understanding. It would be so easy to fuck this up, and I really wanted to help him instead. I wanted him to feel less like a monster for doing what had to be done. At the time it’d been a punishment, but now I realised he was living the punishment, because his guilt was kicking his ass.

“Being good is overrated,” I said finally, and he leaned his head on the railing, so he could glare at me, tears creating a film over his beautiful expressive eyes.

“I mean, what I’m saying is that maybe being good isn’t just toeing the line, or doing the things everyone expects. We have the power to make our own decisions, Cal.”

He sighed, but didn’t speak. Guess it’s my turn still. I tightened my fingers on the railing, watching my skin whiten with the pressure. It hurt, but not in a bad way. More in a way that cleared my mind a little.

“Everyone expects church folk to be decent. To be good people. To never do awful things or hurt others. Trouble is, that’s all bullshit. Sure, there are good ones, I guess. That’s not our experience though, is it? What we’ve learned is that the bad ones are there. They’re bastardising the words of their prophet, so that they can let them fuel their evil. So they can hide behind those words, and deem them righteous. They hate, and they hurt, and they make people feel small and pathetic, and worthless, if we’re not believers. We never agreed to follow them and their version of religion, and yet, somehow we were dragged into it.”

I released the railing, stretching my fingers, before I trailed one hand over Cal’s head, stroking my fingers through his hair.

“I’ll tell you what I believe in. I believe in us. I believe in love. I believe in being who we deserve to be. I believe in our family, in my parents, and the way they taught us that love has no boundaries. That love exists, whether people realise it or not. In the way they showed us that going for what we want is the righteous act. I believe in being who we are on the inside. Not hiding it, or holding it back.”

Cal snorted, still letting me stroke his head and face, like a man pets his freaking dog.

“You’re a killer, your whole family seems to be. No hiding that.”

I grinned, smoothing my thumb over his damp cheek, and leaning down to kiss it.

“Why hide the amazing things we know we are? Yes, I think we’ve all killed someone, but they deserved it. If people are assholes, and deserve to die, why shouldn’t they? They say only the good die young, but that’s just to make them feel better about being cunts.”

Cal straightened up, catching my hand as he moved, pressing his lips against my palm.

“Okay, enough of that. I know you think you’re making sense, and speaking truths, but the words that come out of your mouth are borderline terrifying, Ash. There’s a reason I feared you back then, still kinda do. It’s not because I was hiding from what I am. I was hiding from what I sensed in you. Darkness.”

Cal

Ash shrugged like I didn’t just tell him I thought he was dark and wrong on the inside. Wrong? No, I didn’t say that part at all. It wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t wrong. What right did I have to judge his insides, when I’d betrayed my own for so long? He’d never fought who he was. He’d never hidden his wants and desires. He’d always just been Ash.

Maybe he was right about his parents. Maybe he was right about them having the right approach, and letting their children be who they are, no matter how twisted those desires might be.

“It wasn’t enough,” I said finally, realising there was something burning at me, that still needed to be done. Something that thoughts of his parents had made me realise.

He grinned at me. “We gonna kill your mummy and daddy, baby? I’m so up for that.” He grabbed my free hand and pressed it against his sweatpants, and hell, he wasn’t kidding.