Free Cinders by Asha King

grasp of her hair or whatever physical violence the woman would resort to next.
    But it never came. Instead her stepmother gave her a small smile and turned, heading for the door. “You have an early morning ahead of you. Sleep well, child.”
    As the door closed behind Maureen, Gina crumpled, sinking into a heap on the floor. The tears fell freely, soaking her cheeks, as the world tipped and her future went blank before her eyes.

 
     
    Chapter Eight
     
     
    The thunder hadn’t woken Brennen, he was sure of it, but something roused him from a deep sleep in the middle of the night.
    His eyes opened sleepily, blinked up at the ceiling as lighting splashed across it. Rain beat the window panes and tree branches brushed the side of the cottage. He was about to roll back over to try to sleep but a noise drew him more fully awake, something from the front of his home. He rubbed at his eyes, swung his feet over the side of the bed to hit to cool hardwood, and rose.
    The storm raged on outside and he glanced at the clock by his bed.  3:15 a.m. Exiting his bedroom as he padded barefoot in just pajama bottoms, the sound became clearer—it was definitely a knock. Maybe the power had gone out elsewhere, or there was some kind of emergency at the house? His pace increased, weaving through the dark living room and around the plush couch, the shape of the space familiar to him so he avoided contact with the furniture.
    Brennen reached the heavy wooden door, threw back the lock, and pulled it open.
    Lightning split the sky again, briefly flashing over the figure on his doorstep. Her hand was still raised, held in a fist from when she’d been knocking. Blondish curls of her hair were dark with rainwater, soaked to her head and plastered over her shoulders, and her clothing was in a similar state. Her shoulders shook and shivered, and fear gripped him.
    “Gina...” He stepped onto the porch, rain hammering down on him immediately, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder to pull her inside. She moved willingly but stiffly, and he had the horrible fear she’d walked all the way there.
    Brennen shut and bolted the door behind her, flipped the light on the small table nearby, and immediately jerked a wool afghan from the couch to help with her shivering while he took the time to pull out towels from the other room. He guided her to the sofa, got her sitting, though her wide dark eyes stared absently ahead without acknowledging him and soft brown skin took on a sickly grayish hue.
    He ground his teeth, anger swiftly replacing any fear in the moment—if her damn stepmother did something to her... He didn’t let himself finish that thought, instead focusing on the present moment and getting her warm and dry.
    The kitchen was just a few steps from the hall so he swiftly put the kettle on and then ran down the short hall to the bathroom. A stack of freshly laundered, fluffy towels waited on a shelf just inside the door, and he grabbed three before returning to the living room.
    Gina hadn’t moved, huddled there beneath the blanket.
    Brennen perched on the end of the coffee table in front of her and eased the blanket off to replace it with a towel. He gently pulled her hair off her shoulders and let it soak the terrycloth on her back. “Gina?” He ran his hands up and down her arms, hoping to get her warm. “Gina, what happened?”
    At last her eyes lifted and met his and her voice came out soft and fragile. “Can I stay here for tonight?”
    It still didn’t give him any indication of what was wrong but at least she was talking. “Of course. You need to get warm—I’ve got water boiling for tea. I can put your clothes in the dryer. Do you want something to wear? Or I could run you a bath?” Despite the hour and his lack of rest he was fully awake and alert now, couldn’t fathom going back to sleep until she was settled. His fingers dragged up to cup her still-damp jaw and tilt her face up to his. “Whatever you