Ashes to Ashes Read online

  ASHES TO ASHES

  Marita A. Hansen

  Copyright

  Ashes to Ashes

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2019 © Marita A. Hansen

  Cover Design by Marita A. Hansen

  Cover Photo by LoveTheWind

  Sourced from iStock

  Editor: John Hudspith

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means whatsoever without the written permission of the author, nor circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. For subsidiary rights inquiries email: [email protected]

  All characters, names, places, and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Note on Language and Dialogue Used

  1 L

  2 Ash

  3 Ash

  4 L

  5 Ash

  6 L

  7 Ash

  8 L

  9 Ash

  10 L

  11 Ash

  12 L

  13 Ash

  14 L

  15 Ash

  16 L

  17 Ash

  18 L

  19 Ash

  20 Ash

  21 L

  22 L

  23 Ash

  24 L

  25 L

  26 Ash

  27 L

  28 Ash

  29 Ash

  30 L

  31 Ash

  32 Ash

  33 Ash

  Epilogue L

  Crying Out Silent Sample

  Broken English Sample

  About the Author

  More Books by Marita A. Hansen

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my long suffering family for having to put up with all the time I spend on trying to make my writing career a success.

  In addition, I would like to say a special thanks to:

  John Hudspith – He’s edited many of my books, and is absolutely great to work with. I always feel that I’m putting my best work forward after he’s been through the manuscript.

  And

  My readers

  Due to 2019 being such a difficult year for me, this book has taken me longer than I anticipated. Thanks for being so patient. I hope the story is worth the wait.

  UK English is used due to the New Zealand setting.

  All other variations are also due to where the book is set, as well as the characters’ cultural and socio-economic backgrounds. This is why some characters use different speech patterns from others, such as in the use of ’cause versus cos or was versus wuz, the latter representing a Māori accent. Though, please note that not all Māori speak the same way, plus many of my characters are of mixed heritage, such as Ash Rata. Ash is half Croatian, almost half Māori, and the rest Romanian. But due to where he grew up in South Auckland, New Zealand, he speaks more like his father than his mother.

  I hope this explains the way in which dialogue is presented in Ashes to Ashes.

  1

  L

  The filming of the music video was going terribly, Dante’s anger growing by the second. His dark eyes were boring holes into the director, the man poking a lion without even realising it. And it was never a good idea to make Dante angry, because he had a wild temper. But the director kept on going, pushing Dante over the edge—both literally and figuratively.

  Dante jumped off the stage with a loud thud, his boots echoing throughout the auditorium. His eyes remained on the director, a fifty-something man with a crop of grey hair and a beard to match. Martin shot to his feet from behind the camera, startled by Dante’s sudden and undoubtedly aggressive approach. They were about the same height, six-foot-one or two, though Dante was considerably more muscular, which was accentuated by his clothes. Black leather pants encased powerful thighs, while a black singlet revealed more of his impressive chest than concealed it. A sheen of sweat also glistened across his exposed flesh, making the colourful tattoos on his arms appear even brighter, including the tribal one around his left eye, the dark green pattern normally looking black. If it came down to a fight, the director was no match for Dante’s brawn—and it definitely looked like Dante wanted to plant his fist in Martin’s face.

  Dante all but shunted the director back with his chest, a bull ready to take down the arrogant matador. “Don’t talk to me like that, motherfucker!” he bellowed in Martin’s face. “I ain’t some bitch you can push around. This is my video. My manager is payin’ you to make me look good, not treat me like some useless piece of shit!”

  Martin stumbled back, looking both terrified and stunned, probably not expecting such aggression from a rock star. But Dante was no ordinary rock star. He was a dangerous man who’d been in a gang in his youth, the infamous Skins, a group he still associated with. He’d also been a drug dealer, not someone people should mess with, which was why I scurried across the auditorium to stop him from doing something he’d later regret. Even though I hated being around aggression, I was worried Dante would land himself in jail for assault. I was usually a coward, one who ran a mile or froze in fear when situations got heated, but no one else was doing anything, the video production crew probably too scared to challenge Dante. I just wished that Jade hadn’t popped out to answer a phone call. Our manager was one of the few people who could calm Dante down, but I couldn’t wait for him to come back.

  Looking like Dante was a second away from planting his fist in Martin’s face, I slipped in between them, startling Dante out of his rage. “Take a deep breath, Dante,” I said, staring up at him. Even in my booted heels, he was considerably taller than me, my slim physique also making me appear smaller.

  “How about you take a break,” I said. “Go grab a coffee or a juice from that cafe down the road.”

  Dante stepped away from me, appearing uncomfortable with my close proximity, most likely wary of the crew assuming things about us. The tabloids were constantly speculating that we were more than bandmates, a few even printing stories about us having an illicit affair. Of course it was all untrue. Dante was devoted to his partner, the mother of his baby, while I was head over heels in love with his older brother.

  “I’d rather have whiskey,” Dante all but snarled.

  A different kind of concern filled me, Dante a recovering alcoholic. “You know you can’t have alcohol,” I replied. “You have a loving partner and a baby at home who need you sober. Think about how upset Clara would be if you fell off the wagon, Dante.”

  He let out a shuddering breath, his anger dwindling, replaced by abject defeat.

  I also let out a breath, but a relieved one, though my relief didn’t last long. Dante’s eyes shot back to the director as the man pulled out his phone, threatening to call the police on him. An almost animalistic growl escaped Dante’s mouth, what Martin had said only serving to reignite his temper.

  “Dante,” I said more sternly. “Please don’t do something you’ll regret. You need to—”

  “What I need is Clara,” he snapped, mentioning his partner. “Not this bullshit!”

  He stepped around me, causing Martin to shoot to the side, falling over a chair. Dante ignored him, looking more intent on getting away from the director than hurting him. He stormed towards the exit, crashing through the double doors. Although our manager was going to be furious with him for leaving, I knew it was for the best. Dante was far too wound up to work, plus, if he’d stayed, I didn’t th
ink I could’ve stopped him from attacking Martin.

  I turned to the director, giving him an apologetic smile even though he didn’t deserve it. “I’m so sorry,” I said, hoping he wasn’t going to make a fuss over what Dante had done. “Can we please put this behind us, and try again tomorrow?”

  Martin ran a hand over his beard and shook his head. “I can’t let this pass. If it wasn’t for you, that animal would’ve attacked me. He has no self-control.”

  “Because he was upset over the way you were treating him, and honestly, Martin, you were patronising him, treating him like a stupid child. You shouldn’t have done that, after all, he is the star of the show.”

  “I don’t need that upstart,” Martin fired back, his blue-grey eyes stormy. “I have top artists clambering to hire me. And I wouldn’t have accepted this job if it wasn’t for you, L, because I have no interest in working with that...that...” He flung his arm out, obviously wanting to call Dante every name under the sun, but instead finished with, “man.”

  I blinked at him, rather surprised by his remark. “You wanted to work with me?”

  Some of the anger melted away from Martin’s brutish face. “Very much so. I’ve admired your work for so long, especially your instrumental pieces. I’d much rather make a video for you than Dante, but Jade mentioned you’re only working on Dante’s career, not your solo one.”

  “Yes, I’ve put it on hold,” I replied, rather flattered he knew my music. I’d mostly concentrated on classical and heavy metal compositions prior to my best friend hiring me to work with Dante.

  Martin stepped in closer, lowering his head a touch, the man towering over my small frame. “Honestly, L, you’re too good for this type of trashy, showy music. You’re also too classy to be working with an ex porn star.”

  “Dante wasn’t a porn star. Those viral videos of him were taken illegally. One of his ex-girlfriends put cameras in his room without his knowledge.”

  Martin raised one of his bushy eyebrows at me. “Did she make him fuck hundreds of women, too? Because his room looked like a brothel.”

  I stiffened. “Please don’t talk about Dante like that, and quite frankly, I’m appalled that you watched those videos. No wonder you came in here, treating the poor boy like that.”

  Martin shook his head. “He’s not a poor boy, he’s a grown man who needs anger management. He’s also completely unprofessional, saying the rudest things. If he can’t treat people with respect, he doesn’t deserve to be treated with respect back.”

  I frowned, his words unfortunately true. Dante was disrespectful to everyone, me included. I’d complained to Jade numerous times over it, but Dante showed no sign of stopping his unacceptable behaviour. It was a concerning matter, precisely because it led to incidents like this.

  “I can tell you agree with me,” Martin said, running a hand over his beard again.

  I grimaced, not liking where the conversation was heading. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to speak ill of a colleague. You’re also only seeing one side of Dante. He’s normally cheeky and easy-going. Maybe he’s just having a bad day and unfortunately took it out on you,” I said, lying for Jade’s sake. My best friend had already paid Martin in advance, and a considerable sum at that. I couldn’t have him walking out, leaving Jade out of pocket.

  “Well, if I’m to stay,” Martin said. “Dante needs to learn to take instruction without threatening me.”

  I nodded. “I’ll have a word to him, as will his manager.”

  The dark cloud lifted from Martin’s expression. “Thank you, L. You’re truly a pleasure to speak to, as well as to work with. I must compliment you on doing everything right today.”

  “No, thank you, Martin. I appreciate your kind words.”

  He nodded and placed a hand on my arm, saying something about getting back to work, but I couldn’t take his words in, his touch distracting me too much. It took all of my willpower not to flinch away from it, my issues with being touched coming to the forefront. But I didn’t want to insult the man, so I bit my tongue, allowing him to direct me over to the area where my guitar solo was being filmed.

  He brought me to a halt in front of the large, round bed. It was covered in emerald green sheets to complement my long ginger and golden hair. “How about we film your part of the video,” he suggested, indicating to the bed. “We don’t require Dante for this section, plus it’ll at least fill the next hour or so.”

  I nodded, quite happy to get my section over and done with. Filming music videos wasn’t my favourite part of being in a rock band. It was a necessary evil that I had to endure, especially today, what Martin had in mind for me rather... embarrassing. But it wasn’t my place to question such a famous director.

  The production crew moved into place, making me feel a touch caged in. I ignored my fear and went to climb onto the bed with my electric guitar, fully aware of what I was supposed to do. I’d read the script thoroughly, making sure that I didn’t waste anyone’s time.

  Martin grabbed my arm before I could get on the bed, pulling out a startled cry from me, what he’d done taking me unaware. He instantly let go. “I do apologise, L, it’s just... your hair isn’t quite right. It’s too perfect. We need to mess it up a bit so it gives the impression that you’ve just had sex.”

  He threaded his fingers through my hair, doing just that. I forced myself to remain still, wondering why he hadn’t told the hairstylist to style it this way in the first place. She’d spent quite a while making my hair perfect, so smooth that there hadn’t been a strand out of place, and for Martin to mess it up within seconds felt like a travesty to her hard work.

  He removed his hands from my hair. “Lie on the bed with your guitar draped across your body,” he instructed.

  I went to do just that but he pulled me back again, what he was doing starting to get to me, but I refrained from reacting this time, not wanting to cause trouble.

  He looked down at my chest. “We also need to fix this top. I don’t know what Wardrobe was thinking.”

  To my disbelief, he started undoing the buttons on my blouse, and if I wasn’t so shocked, I would’ve stopped him. Within seconds he had my blouse undone, pulling it apart to reveal my bra.

  “Better,” he said, staring down at my breasts.

  I glanced around, wondering why no one was reacting to the way he was treating me, but the crew just stood behind their equipment as though it was perfectly normal. Maybe it was, my experience with filming videos not exactly extensive, though I was now wishing I’d left with Dante.

  “Lie down,” Martin said.

  I did, but only to move away from him. I glanced at the crew again, not seeing anyone acting surprised or shocked by his behaviour, just men doing their jobs. Maybe I was misreading the situation, because Martin’s expression was now purely professional, no sign of the earlier sparkle of lust in his eyes. Or maybe I’d imagined that too, working myself up over nothing.

  I laid the guitar across my stomach, strumming it like I was supposed to. Martin indicated for an assistant to fan my hair out. The assistant did as instructed, quickly moving out of the camera’s range as the music for the video started playing. I lifted my mid-section up as my guitar solo approached, partially raising my body off the bed like in the script. My fingers flew across the guitar, no sound coming from it, just me pretending to play along to the recording of Dante’s voice, which blasted from the speakers, along with the accompanying instruments. The drummer and bassist had left well before Dante’s and Martin’s argument, their parts completed early.

  I continued pretending to play the guitar, smiling at the camera softly. I felt like an idiot for doing it, even though Martin looked pleased. He eventually yelled cut once my part came to an end. Rising up from behind the main camera, he clapped loudly, appearing extremely happy with me.

  “Now, that’s how it’s done,” he said, smiling wide. “Professionally and without tantrums, and even better, in one take. It’s a pity your bandmate d
oesn’t have the same work ethic as you do, L.”

  I didn’t reply, not wanting to insult Dante.

  “Well, today wasn’t a total waste,” he added. “I’ll look forward to working with you again tomorrow.”

  Relieved he was happy, I pushed off the bed with my guitar. “Thank you. You won’t regret it.”

  “I don’t think anyone would regret working with such a lovely lady as yourself,” he replied.

  My cheeks flushed at his comment. I still found it hard dealing with people treating me like a woman. Even though I was intersex, my parents had raised me as a male, clueless to what puberty had in store for me. As the years progressed, I started looking more female by the day, people constantly calling me Miss. Men also hit on me, not realising I didn’t have what they wanted between my legs. Regardless, I didn’t feel like I was either male or female, instead, I was something entirely different, my own personal sex.

  Martin turned his attention to the video crew. “Everyone, please pack up. Be back here by seven in the morning. We’ll have a lot of filming to get through due to Dante setting us back.” His attention returned to me. “Until tomorrow, L,” he said, giving me a slight bow. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  “Thank you, and likewise,” I replied, watching as he walked away.

  I turned to go in the opposite direction, needing to get my belongings from the changing rooms. My eyes fell on the man who’d fanned my hair out. He was looking at me with obvious interest. He was very attractive... or what people would consider attractive, because my tastes were much fussier than the average Joe or Jane. I didn’t like hot men, I liked beautiful ones. I also didn’t like being stared at, which the man was doing, making me feel uncomfortable. It was getting harder and harder dealing with people’s interest in me. I was used to working in studios, not out front for everyone to ogle. It was also starting to get scary, especially with how much my fans obsessed over me. Jade had recently banned me from reading my fan mail after I’d received a slew of perverted letters, detailing everything they wanted to do to me.

  I quickly rushed towards the door that led to the changing rooms, eager to get back to the studio so I could lose myself in what I loved to do: creating music—my passion. I slipped into my changing room, closing the door behind me, my thoughts wandering back to another passion of mine. Ash Rata—Dante’s older brother. I put my guitar in its stand, still upset that Ash hadn’t called me since the concert in Sydney, which was the day he’d broken up with his partner after she’d accused him of having an affair with me. Of course he hadn’t. Ash was too noble and loyal to ever cheat. But his partner had refused to listen, allowing her jealousies to get in the way of being with such a great man, one I loved unconditionally. Unfortunately, he was totally oblivious to my feelings—unlike Tiana. His now ex could clearly see that I loved him, everyone but Ash seeing it. All I was to him was a friend, which was all I’d ever be.