And worst of all, he said nothing to Asher.
Not one word.
He barely even glanced his way.
Asher watched him, when Flame was not looking. He watched him so closely, and it broke my heart into pieces. Because I could see Asher’s desperation so clearly in his timid expression. I could see the want in his eyes, for his big brother to acknowledge him, or to even look his way.
But Flame did not. He sat, sharpening his blades, head cast down.
Silent.
When we arrived home, when we arrived at the three cabins, AK took one look at Flame’s empty face and asked, “How 'bout Little Ash stays with me? I got a spare room. He’ll be good with me.”
Flame had nodded his head once, and AK had taken Asher to his cabin. I watched them the entire way, completely lost at what to do. Just as they were about to enter the door, Asher glanced back to Flame. But Flame was staring straight forward, shoulders tense. Asher went into the cabin, defeated; AK firmly closed the door behind them.
Flame had been that way ever since. Quiet, unable to bear letting me out of his sight, shutting himself away from the world.
Feeling the water had cooled, I pulled the plug out of the tub, and sat in the draining water, trying to search my mind for what could be done. Because that was Flame. He did not express what troubled him. He kept it deep inside, with no indication about how to help him.
For days I had searched my mind for anything to help him address his inner pain; then, just as I felt I was at a complete loss, unable to give any help, an idea struck me. A realization so stark that I was convinced it had to help, even if only a little.
Because there was one haunting memory that Flame had yet to overcome. One barrier that he had yet to confront. Taking a deep breath, I prayed that it worked. Because if it did not, I was unsure if Flame would ever be freed from the cage in his mind.
Stepping out of the bath, I dried quickly and changed into leather pants and a black sweater, then tied my hair back in a tight braid. When I was ready, I left the bathroom to find Flame in the same position he had been in for days. He was slumped against the wall near the unlit fire, his finger travelling down the long blade in his hands… and his intense dark eyes were fixed on the end of the living room... to the hatch... the replica of the hatch that brought him so much pain in his younger years.
I noted his muscles tensed when I entered the room. And as he had done for the last few days, his hand tapped the floor beside him, wordlessly indicating for me to sit beside him.
This time, when I approached, I crouched at his feet instead. His eyes barely registered that I was wearing my leathers; he didn’t move. Reaching out, I took hold of his hand, and when his lost eyes blinked up, I gently demanded, “I need you to take us somewhere.”
Flame’s facial expression did not change, but the rise and fall of his chest told me he did not want to leave. I squeezed his hand, and whispered, “For me, Flame. Please do this for me.”
Flame dropped the blade, and he pushed his large body to his feet. Refusing to release my hand, he pulled me into his chest and asked, “Where are we going?”
"I need us to go into downtown Austin."
Flame numbly nodded his head, then asked, “Where?”
I closed my eyes, knowing this was going to be a battle. Then told him the street name. As soon as the words had left my mouth, Flame’s body had tensed, the hard muscles in his arms and chest pulling to their splitting point.
“No,” he snapped fiercely, and held me tighter. “No,” he repeated, just as powerfully.
Pushing back from his hard chest, I stretched to the tips of my toes. Placing my hands on his arms, I pleaded, “Trust me. I need you to come with me. I just… please, Flame… for me.” I pressed his hand against my heart and continued. “I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you. So, please, trust me. I am your Maddie. I would never steer you wrong.”
“Maddie,” Flame murmured, his dark eyes blinking.
“Trust me,” I pushed, and reluctantly Flame dropped his head. In seconds he had taken me outside to his bike. Minutes later we were on the road.
He drove slowly, and I knew he wanted to avoid what I needed him to face. I held him tightly the whole way. When we arrived, Flame parked our bike in front of the familiar white building.
His body was taught with apprehension. And I knew this was going to be difficult. But I wanted my Flame back. I wanted him to claw through whatever dark fog plagued and tortured his mind.
I slid off the bike, and stood beside Flame. Running my hand down his arm, I laid it over his hand. Flame sighed, then slid off his bike, his fingers immediately wrapping around mine.