FURY: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rosewood High Book 6)

by Tracy Lorraine

  I gasp at the look on his face. His eyes are dark and haunted, his lips are pressed into a thin line. He looks... devastated. Broken. Totally and utterly lost.

  “Ash, please,” I beg, surging forward in the hope I can stop him walking out and doing whatever he’s planning on doing.

  But before I get anywhere near him, he swings the door closed behind him.

  “Ashton,” I scream, but I can only imagine that he’s gone and knows I can’t chase him. “Fuck’s sake,” I bark, spinning on the spot, not knowing what to do.

  I take myself to the bathroom, make use of the toilet and brush my teeth as I try to get my brain to function. I inspect my eye in the mirror, thankfully, there’s no sign of what just happened. I can only hope it stays that way.

  Finding the hoodie he discarded when we got in last night, I pull it on and go in search of my purse, or more importantly, my cell.

  I find it by the front door where I must have dropped it when he backed me up against the door.

  Images of last night threaten to play out in my mind like a freaking movie, but I push them down. The tenderness between my legs is enough of a reminder right now.

  Pulling my cell out, I call Mom.

  “Good morning, sweetie. Are you ready?”

  “Um...” I hesitate, looking around the apartment for a clock but coming up empty. Pulling my cell from my ear, I stare at the time and panic. “Not quite. Um... we might have a problem,” I admit with a wince.

  “What’s wrong?” Mom’s voice immediately changes with my words.

  “Err... Ashton just stormed out. He’s... um... he’s not dealing with this very well. I’m not sure what—”

  “Stephen,” she says away from the speaker. “Ruby said that Ashton is gone.”

  I can’t hear his response but whatever he says, she agrees.

  “Our Uber is coming in ten minutes to go to the church, we’ll get you on the way through. He’ll be there. He just needs...” She trails off because, quite honestly, none of us know what he needs right now.

  “I’ll be ready,” I say, rushing to hang up so I can get ready in record time.

  Thankfully, I get just over thirty minutes before the buzzer goes off. I push my feet back into the shoes I wore last night and after grabbing my purse, I make my way to the door.

  I find an Uber by the sidewalk with Stephen standing beside it in a sharp black suit.

  He smiles sadly at me. “You look beautiful, Ruby. Have you heard from him?” His brows pull together in concern.

  “No, I’m sorry. I don’t think he’s in a very good place.”

  I take a step toward the back of the car where I can see Mom waiting for me, but Stephen’s voice stops me before I reach out for the handle.

  “I have no idea what’s going on between the two of you, but I just wanted to say thank you for being there for him... as much as he allows, anyway.”

  I open my mouth to respond but I soon find I have no words. I have no idea if I’m helping Ashton in any way right now. I think of last night, if it weren’t me then I’m sure he’d have found someone else willing to help him forget for a few hours.

  Jealousy twists my stomach as I think of the girl from the bathroom at that party last night. I’ve no doubt she’d have kept him company given half the chance.

  “We should go,” I say in the end, reaching forward and pulling the door open.

  I’m wearing a black pencil skirt. It doesn’t make getting in the car all that easy, but after a few seconds I drop down into the seat beside Mom.

  “Hey, Mom,” I say, glancing over at her.

  “Hi, sweetie. How are you?” Something about her tone seems off. I have no idea if she’s still pissed because she thinks I had sex in her bed or if she’s annoyed that I’m not staying at the hotel with them. Whatever it is, I really don’t have the energy to worry about it right now.

  I stare out of the window as the car begins to move.

  “Did he say where he was going?” she asks after a few seconds of silence. “If he was going to attend?”

  “I don’t know, Mom. He didn’t say anything. I really hope he doesn’t miss it. He’ll regret it.”

  Mom nods, shooting Stephen a concerned stare.

  “He’ll be there,” he says, his voice full of confidence I really don’t feel.

  There are a few people gathered already when we arrive at the church. But when I look around, I don’t see him.

  “Come on, Ash,” I mutter to myself as Stephen goes to talk to someone, dragging Mom with him.

  I stand awkwardly on the bumpy path that leads toward the church entrance, praying that he comes. Desperate for him not to make a mistake that he’s going to regret forever.

  He told me he wanted to at least do this right. I really hope he meant that.

  We’re welcomed into the church in time for the arrival of the coffin, but still, he’s not here.

  I sit closest to the aisle with Mom and then Stephen beside me. My knee bounces as we wait. A handful of people fill the church behind us, and I can’t help wondering who they all are and if they’re as concerned about Ashton’s absence as I am.

  “He’ll be here,” Stephen whispers over to me, probably in an attempt to stop my leg annoying the crap out of him.

  After long, silent, anxious minutes, the priest comes to stand at the front, and I try to swallow down the lump of emotion that’s suddenly appeared in my throat.

  “Could you please stand?”

  We do as we’re told, and the organ starts playing. My stomach twists as my eyes burn. I can’t help it. I might not have ever met the woman, but she was Ashton’s mom, Stephen’s wife. I feel their pain, their loss right alongside them. I might not know the whole story behind her and Stephen’s relationship, but I know he cared enough to marry her, to have a baby with her. No matter the outcome of them, he still cared, like I know my mom and dad do for each other.

  Everyone shifts around me, the rustling of their clothes filling my ears, as I assume they look to the doors. Although I’m not sure why, this isn’t a freaking wedding.

  I suck in a deep breath, trying to center myself so I don’t end up a blubbering mess, and I look over my shoulder.

  What I find sucks all the air from my lungs.

  “Ashton.” His name is the faintest of whispers on my lips as I stare at him.

  He’s wearing the same clothes that he walked out of the apartment in, only now the hood is up.

  His eyes are focused on a point at the front of the church as he walks down the aisle with his mother’s coffin on his shoulder.

  My vision blurs as I watch him. His expression hard, his eyes cold and his jaw tense as he moves.

  I have to fight to keep a sob inside.

  He came, and not only is he here, but he’s doing this... for her. It’s too much.

  My body shakes with my need to cry, but I know I’ve got to fight it. I’ve got to be strong for him, even if he doesn’t think he needs me to be.

  I blow out a shaky breath as I rip my eyes from him and take in the two guys behind him that I can see. Their hoods are up, and they’re dressed exactly the same as Ash, but my breath catches when I realize that I recognize them. The one directly behind him is the guy he was talking to on the couch last night, Cash, I think. And behind him, surprisingly, is Axel.

  I watch as the three of them move past me. If any of them are aware that I’m here watching them, then they don’t make it known as they continue to walk forward and in only a few seconds, place the coffin on the stand. Five of them step away but Ashton pauses beside the coffin.

  Mom must sense that I’m about to lose control because her hand slips into mine. I squeeze it tight in the hope it might help, but nothing does. The sight of a broken, devastated Ashton standing before his mom absolutely wrecks me.

  Everything he’s done to me since he reappeared, his vicious words, his cruel touch, all of it drifts off until it all means nothing.

  That boy. That cold, angry, mer
ciless boy, is utterly lost, completely shattered, and drowning faster than any of us realize.

  My heart aches for him. My muscles scream at me to walk over there and to pull him into my arms, to give him the kind of support that I’m sure he’s desperate for right now.

  But I can’t. I know I can’t.

  He won’t accept it. He barely accepts it when we’re alone, there’s no way he’ll accept it in a room full of people. He won’t allow himself to show anyone in here that kind of weakness.

  After a second, he reaches out and places his hand on the smooth wood of the coffin.

  His shoulders rise and fall at a rapid rate as he stares down. I swear every single person in that congregation holds their breath in those few beats as we all watch him say goodbye to the person he loved most in this world.

  After another second, his hand drops along with his shoulders and he takes a step back. He doesn’t turn around or look over his shoulder. He doesn’t need to, he seems to know where he’s going as he backs toward the pew beside where we’re standing and joins the five guys he walked in with.

  “Please be seated.”

  Everyone moves, but I’m frozen in place as I stare at Ashton’s profile. I can’t see a lot, he’s still got his hood over his head but I see enough.

  I want to walk over, slide my hand into his hand and stand—or sit—strong beside him.

  “Ruby,” Mom hisses, dragging me from my trance, and reluctantly, I turn back to face the front and lower my ass to the cold wood beneath me.

  The service is beautiful, the way people talk about Leanora only confirm what I already know—that she was an incredible woman. Each person who speaks does so with such love in their voice, their expressions showing such loss.

  By the time the priest brings this part of the funeral to a close and instructs us to head outside, I feel like my emotions have been tossed in the dryer. I barely know which way is up as I stand and walk beside Mom out of the church, knowing that I’m leaving him behind to take his mom to her final resting place.

  My eyes bore into the side of his face as I pass, desperate for him to turn to me, but he doesn’t so much as flinch.

  Mom and I don’t speak as we follow the others toward the burial ground. Stephen walks behind us, also silent.

  The congregation feels smaller as we all stand around the grave. I’ve only ever been to one funeral before and that was a cremation. This feels so much more final seeing a hole in the ground where she’s going to rest.

  After only a few minutes, the coffin is before us and the hooded pallbearers join the crowd. But this time, Ashton breaks away from his little dark gang of six and he comes to stand right beside me on the edge of the semi-circle we’re all standing in.

  I look up at him, but he doesn’t return my stare. His eyes are still locked on the coffin, his face still set in his stone mask. I think he probably hopes that means no one can see beneath it. But he’s wrong. While his face might be unreadable, his expression impenetrable, his eyes tell a whole other story, and I haven’t even looked into them directly. But I know that when I do, what’s inside them is going to slice me open.

  The priest begins the next bit of the service as the cold air of Seattle bites into our skin, our breaths coming out in white clouds around us.

  I have no idea what he says. His words blur into just background noise as the heat from Ashton’s arm burns through my coat and into mine.

  I want to reach for him but I can’t. My fists curl at my sides as I try to stop myself from doing something that he won’t want, something that will push him over the edge.

  I sense the ceremony is coming to an end as the priest moves around the grave with a shovel in hand ready to commit her to rest. The sight, the thought that she’s about to be buried in the ground has a lump so huge in my throat that I struggle to breathe around it.

  I’m not the only one with the same issue because people sniffle and shift uncomfortably around me, but I don’t look at any of them, I can’t, my eyes are locked on that wooden coffin as the first pile of soil rains down on it.

  A gasp sounds out from beside me. It’s the only reaction I have heard or seen from him since he arrived. Part of me is relieved that he’s actually feeling, seeing what’s going on. I was worried he’d somehow completely checked out and although he was here in body, his mind was entirely elsewhere.

  The second pile is thrown in and my body startles as his hand threads through mine. His fingers grip mine impossibly tight causing pain to shoot up my arm but I can’t move, I just deal with it because right now, he needs a lifeline and I refuse to cause him any more pain than he’s already in.

  We stand, side by side, connected, as the priest finishes whatever he’s saying.

  The world around me blurs as I stand beside an unmoving Ashton.

  The sound of people talking fills my ears before movement around me alerts me to the fact they’re walking away.

  “There’s a car waiting for both of you. Take your time. We’ll see you at the reception,” Stephen says in my ear.

  Turning to look at him, I smile sadly. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “Look after my boy.”

  I nod, it’s the only thing I can do as a new wave of tears burn my eyes and turn the world blurry around me.

  21

  Ashton

  Ruby’s hand is locked in mine with a vise-like grip. I know I should release her, allow her to follow all the others to the reception Dad organized. But I can’t find it in me to do so.

  I need her. I need her so fucking bad right now that I just can’t let her go.

  I know that all I’m doing is hurting her. And although a part of me planned for it to be that way, to show her just how lucky she was with the happy little family she had with my dad. But it’s morphed into something I wasn’t expecting and now I’m leaning on her in a way I shouldn’t, sucking the life out of her to feed my own, to keep me fucking breathing.

  I stare at Mom’s coffin. The one I chose specifically for her, covered in a scattering of mud. That’s all she is now. Just a body. A cold body in a box that’s about to be surrounded by mud.

  I did that. I caused that.

  “It’s all my fault.” I don’t realize the words fall from my lips until the hold Ruby has on my hand tightens. I’m surprised she’s still got any blood left in it to move.

  “No, Ash. None of this is your fault.” Her voice is so soft that it has a flood of tears filling my eyes. I’ve fought all morning to keep it down, to swallow my pain, my loss, my grief. But standing here now, just the two of us. I’m not sure I can keep it inside any longer.

  I’m exhausted. Completely fucking drained.

  I drop to the cold, hard ground, and because I refuse to release her hand, Ruby has no choice but to follow me.

  I keep my eyes on the hole in the ground before us as I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my one free arm around my legs.

  “Axel and I had been picked up on the street. We were searched there and then, but despite the fact they didn’t find anything, the officers threw us in the back of their cars, nonetheless.

  “They thought we were dealing, or at least in possession. But it was our lucky day, or so I thought because for once, neither of us had anything on us, and we weren’t actually doing anything suspicious.

  “We were taken to the station, questioned, and made to sit and wait for fucking hours.

  “Axel had been arrested time and time again, I knew he’d get out scot-free. His dad has enough of Seattle PD in his back pocket to ensure he’s cleared of almost anything he could get pulled in for. I, on the other hand, didn’t have that luxury. I might have worked for them, but I was disposable.”

  “But you said you didn’t do anything,” she says quickly from her matching position beside me. She still hasn’t looked at me, and I’ve never been more grateful. I don’t need anyone looking at me right now. I don’t even want to look at myself.

  “No, but the decent cops in the city are de
sperate to take down the Kingstons. They’ve been running rings around the authorities for years, but nothing has ever stuck. They’re lawless, above it all. They manage to get away with everything and get it swept under the rug.

  “Anyway, we were released and when I walked out, Mom was sitting there waiting to take me home. I’d never seen her so angry. She knew I was involved in some less than legal shit, although we’d never had a conversation about it, but I was bringing home more cash than most school kids to help keep the roof over our heads and pay off some of the debts she’d got herself into over the past few years.

  “She didn’t say anything as she wrapped her hand around my upper arm and all but dragged me out of the station like I was a kid, not almost a fully grown man who was bigger than her.” A sad smile pulls at my lips at the memory before pain lances through my heart at knowing I’m never going to experience her trying to discipline me again. She used to tell me that no matter how old I was, that I was always going to be her little boy, that I would always be submitted to her harsh words whenever I screwed up, even when I was a married man with my own kids.

  “We got in the car and still she was silent. I felt like such a shit. She was so disappointed in me.” I blow out a long breath, silence settling between us.

  She doesn’t say anything and I’m grateful. I don’t need an inquisition. I don’t even know why I’m really telling her this. I guess it’s just festered too long inside me and finally needs to come out. Expel my sins or some shit before we lay her to rest.

  “I tried apologizing, but she wouldn’t have it. I understood why. I’d told her after I got back from Rosewood that I’d step away from the Kingston boys, that I’d try to make a new start. Focus on trying to graduate, on football, but it was all bullshit. One offer of some extra cash for a job with them and I jumped at the chance.

  “It didn’t help that I was trying to do everything I possibly could to get this girl out of my fucking head,” I admit with a wince. I don’t look at her but I like to think she’s smiling. It gives me the encouragement I need to continue.