Don’t Love Me

by Doyle, S.

  Chris held the joint out to me. I’d never done drugs before, but I knew it was kind of a rite of passage. A hit on a joint. I didn’t see the harm it could do. Why not experience it once?

  I reached out to take it, when Marc stepped between Chris and me and smacked my hand away. “Fuck no.”

  “I want to try,” I said.

  “Yeah, Marc, she wants to try.”

  Marc glared at Chris, then turned on me. “You’re not pulling any fucking smoke into your lungs. You get me?”

  “I’m fine, Marc. It’s been a year and I haven’t even—”

  “Not a fucking thing in those lungs,” he snarled.

  Greg tightened his hold on me. Almost instinctively, like he could feel the ripple effects of Marc’s anger toward me. But I was used to it.

  “Fine,” I said.

  “Fine,” he bit off. “You brought the food and soda. You said hi to the guys…you can leave now.”

  “She just got here,” Greg insisted. Then he did the unthinkable and pulled me onto his lap, wrapping both arms around me. I wasn’t even sure how I knew what that was going to do to Marc, I just knew I immediately reacted by trying to pull away.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “He’s right. You guys probably just want to hang out without me getting in the way. I only wanted to bring you some food.”

  “No, I kind of like having someone to cuddle with,” Greg said defiantly. “You’re soft, Ashleigh. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Let her up now,” Marc said quietly. Too quietly.

  I pushed off Greg’s chest and Greg immediately opened his arms to let me go, sensing that Marc wasn’t playing.

  “What’s the matter, Marc? Can’t handle someone treating Ashleigh with something other than contempt?” Greg pushed him.

  “You don’t know shit about shit. Ash, get the fuck out. Now!”

  I didn’t wait for him to yell at me a second time. I took off and someone else slammed the door closed behind me. I pulled my sweater over my hands, which were immediately cold, and started up the path to the main house.

  Alone.

  * * *

  Marc

  “Dude. What is your problem?”

  I looked at Greg, who had asked the question, then grabbed the joint Chris was still holding and took a hit. It didn’t help. Pot never did affect me much, and for the most part, as the child of an addict, I didn’t mess around with drugs at all beyond the occasional hit or two. Same with drinking, but right now I wanted a beer.

  Not answering Greg, because really there was no answer, I opened the fridge and pulled out one of the beers I’d stocked there earlier this afternoon. A night alone with my old teammates. Some beer, now some food, because that was Ash. It should have been fun, only now I was torn up inside.

  The room seemed to go back to normal. The guys were passing around the chips and shit Ash brought. Only Greg was looking at me strangely.

  He walked over, his hands held out as if to suggest he was coming in peace. He grabbed a grape soda out of the cooler and popped it open.

  “Seriously, man, I don’t think I ever got what your deal with her was.”

  “I don’t have a deal with her. She just lives in the big house on the estate where I’m allowed to live with my uncle.”

  “Nah, man. I’ve seen you with other girls. You’re always chill. Always respectful. But with her, all I’ve ever seen her do is be there for you at every single game, win or lose. If you even bothered to acknowledge her presence, you would snap at her for something. One time you gave her shit because she brought you the wrong flavor of Gatorade.”

  Because I could. Because Ash let me.

  “She’s a hottie now,” Greg added. “Grew up real good.”

  “She’s only fucking sixteen, and if you touch her, I’ll kill you.”

  Again, Greg lifted his hands in the air and started to walk away. “Message received loud and clear. Ashleigh is off limits.”

  Good. Because that was exactly the message I wanted to make sure everyone received.

  Eventually, the guys left. I made sure no one who was drinking or stoned drove, then I opened all the windows to clear the smell of pot out of the house. George wasn’t stupid, but he was pretty cool about shit like that.

  He’d taught me to drive at fifteen. Let me have beer once I turned eighteen. He knew I would never let my shit get out of control with drugs or booze, and, once he understood that, we were cool.

  I was an adult now. In college, with my path and future clearly in sight. I’d even debated coming back here for the break. I worked part-time at a restaurant near campus, waiting and bussing tables. I could have stayed and picked up a few more shifts. After all, George had done right by me for six years, but he didn’t owe me anything now that I was legal.

  And I was tired of paying my dues with Arthur Landen. If I was here, he expected me to be working on the property. George must have known I was considering bailing on the whole trip, because he’d started talking about family, and how he missed me, and how it wouldn’t be right not to be together for Thanksgiving.

  So I came back for him. If I was being honest, I came back for Ash, too. Only because I knew it would upset her if I didn’t.

  Stepping outside the carriage house, I realized it was cold. But instead of going back inside for a coat, I jogged up the path to the main house. The back door was always open, and I didn’t hesitate to let myself in, even though I knew Ash was alone in the house.

  I made my way through the kitchen, into the massive living area, and up the double wide staircase. It was funny to think, in all the years I’d lived on the estate, Ash spent way more time with me and George at the carriage house than I’d ever spent here, in the big house.

  I didn’t go to the main house often. Last time had been after Ash had gotten out of the hospital. I’d come up to her room a few times in the days following her release to check on her. Landen had been coming down the hall and had spotted me leaving her room. There had been no threats then; he seemed to acknowledge these were extenuating circumstances. But he hadn’t been happy.

  Since then, I’d continued to steer clear of Ash and follow the rules.

  Tonight I hadn’t. Friends at the house. Drugs and alcohol. And now I was standing outside of Ash’s bedroom door.

  I knocked. Heard a scramble, then she opened the door.

  “Do you just open the door to anyone who knocks?” I snapped.

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re the only other person on the estate, Marc.”

  “I could have been a burglar,” I said, leaning against her door frame. I didn’t want to step inside. That seemed like it would be crossing a line.

  “Pretty sure burglars don’t knock.”

  She was wearing flannel pajama pants and a tank top. Getting ready for bed, or already asleep, I didn’t know. When I glanced at her, I could see her nipples were hard underneath the cotton material.

  I looked away.

  “Look, about tonight, I just didn’t think it was a good idea for you to be hanging out. The guys were drinking and getting high.” I shook my head. “They get ideas, Ash. Especially when a vulnerable girl is in the room.”

  “Vulnerable? I don’t even know what that means.”

  “It means you would be easy to take advantage of,” I told her.

  “I’m not an idiot, Marc. I can handle myself with a guy.”

  “No, but you’re a virgin and that kind of thing…some guys like corrupting innocence.”

  She folded her arms over her chest, and I could see the blush creeping up her neck. “You don’t know I’m a virgin.”

  Yes, I did. I knew absolutely she was a virgin.

  “We don’t have to talk about it. I just didn’t want you to think I was being an asshole for no reason. However, I ever catch you smoking anything, I am serious, Ash, I’ll go to your father with that and he’ll pull you out of school so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

  She laughed. “You haven’t been aro
und, Marc. Daddy isn’t exactly available for chitchats these days. You don’t scare me.”

  “These trips to New York common?”

  She nodded. “He’s got an apartment in the city. Sometimes it’s easier for him to stay up there. It doesn’t bother me. More freedom. You know, to invite guys over and have sex with them.”

  I snorted. Even the way she said that. A little hesitant, sex instead of fucking. She was totally a virgin.

  “You know, I wasn’t sure if I was going to come here for break.”

  Her back got a little straighter.

  “You’ll keep coming back,” she insisted. “This is your home.”

  No, I wouldn’t. And no, it wasn’t. Not really. There would come a time when I would leave, and I wouldn’t look back. She wasn’t ready to hear that tonight, so I didn’t bother. Instead, I moved to leave.

  “Marc, just so you know, you’re never an asshole to me for no reason. There’s always a motive. I just wish you realized what it was.”

  I didn’t have anything to say to that, so I left.

  * * *

  The next morning

  Marc

  George walked through the front door of the carriage house with an overloaded bag of groceries. I could see the rump of a turkey sticking out of the bag.

  “Oh good,” he said, seeing me at the counter in the kitchen. “You’re up. Go outside and get the rest of the stuff out of the SUV, will you?”

  “Why are you bringing all that stuff here? Don’t you need to put it in the kitchen up at the big house?”

  That was our Thanksgiving tradition. George cooked for everyone. Mr. Landen ate at the fancy dining room table with Ash. And George and I ate in the kitchen until Ash could excuse herself and finish the night with us having pie and hot chocolate.

  “Not this year. I thought it would be nice if we could have our own private holiday. Just you and me. Here.”

  I took the bag of food he was holding, which looked heavy, and set it on the counter. Then I jogged to where he’d parked the SUV, and hauled four more bags of groceries down to the carriage house.

  Once I set those bags on the counter, I sat on the stool near our kitchen counter and watched as he unloaded what appeared to be a mountain of food for two people.

  “Spill it, George. What’s going on?”

  With his back to me, he shook his head. I’d noticed in the months I’d been gone his bald spot was growing. I thought about how long he could keep up the work of maintaining the estate, and decided I would be set up to take care of him long before he would retire.

  And I would take care of him. George had been there for me when I needed family, and I would never forget that. But he was a fool if he didn’t think I saw more than he wanted me to see around this place.

  “Landen doesn’t want us around, does he? Or I should say he doesn’t want me around?”

  George faced me and sighed. “He’s taking Ashleigh into the city with him for dinner at some fancy restaurant.”

  She would hate that. Hate being away from us. Hate not having George’s cooking. His sweet potato casserole was her favorite. Why does a father who is supposed to love his daughter do stuff that will purposefully make her sad?

  “Okay. Whatever. She said he’s not around much, the old man. If you’re driving him, then she’s here on the estate alone.”

  “I know,” he said, his expression grim. “I don’t like it. I’ve told Mr. Landen maybe it would be better to hire a driver for those occasions. He feels the estate is safe enough.”

  I snorted. “It’s just a long fucking driveway and a bunch of unfenced property. She doesn’t even have a dog that could protect her. She’s a freaking sitting duck out here.”

  I thought of Chris last night. Talking shit about her after she left. How hot she was. How perky her tits were. How he was going to try, at some point this year, to get into her pussy.

  I knew he’d said all of it to get a rise out of me, but I hadn’t fallen for his bait. Chris was full of shit. He talked a big game, but I was pretty sure it was mostly because he was afraid of girls. Afraid of getting to know them, instead of just panting after them because he thought they were hot.

  Ashleigh wouldn’t let him within ten feet of her. Or her pussy.

  Her virgin pussy.

  Stop thinking about her virgin pussy.

  George folded his arms over his chest and a smile played on his lips. “You worried about Peanut?”

  “No,” I said, instantly rejecting the idea. “It just seems to me as rich as the fucker is, he could at least have a better security setup in place to protect his little princess. Hell, I got into the house and up to her bedroom last night in seconds.”

  “You what?” George snapped.

  I held my hand up to calm him down. “Relax, I just had to talk to her about something. At what point is everyone going to figure out I don’t want anything to do with Ash? Not that way. But sure. She’s someone I know. It would suck if something bad happened to her.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I’ll put a bug in his ear about a security system. In the meantime, why does my home smell like pot?”

  I coughed a few times. “There may or may not have been people over last night.”

  “You know the rules. No friends, no drugs and…”

  “Stay away from Ashleigh,” I finished.

  I knew the rules. I just didn’t give a shit about them anymore. My time here was limited until I could fully support myself. If I made sure there was a security system in place that would protect Ashleigh from the world, then that wasn’t a bad parting gift.

  7

  Princeton

  7 months later

  Marc

  I was studying for my last final and it was kicking my ass. Statistical Analysis of Financial Data. The money part never bothered me, but this was weighed heavily on the math, and it felt like I had to push my brain forward to make the numbers work.

  There was no such thing as getting anything less than an A on my final. My GPA was holding steady at 3.8, and any dip might cost me summa cum laude, which wasn’t acceptable if I was going to get one of the top jobs in a New York brokerage.

  My phone dinged and it was a welcome temporary escape from the numbers.

  Ash: What are you doing right now?

  I smiled when I saw the text. I’d gotten them every now and then since I’d gone off to college. Odd times, day or night. Just that one question. What are you doing right now? She said it was important we stay connected when we were separated. I humored her because I knew she spent the majority of her time alone.

  Me: Studying. Why?

  Ash: I need you to do something for me. This is serious.

  I doubted it.

  Me: What?

  Ash: You need to tell Chris to back off. He’s been harassing me all year, and for the most part I’ve been handling it. But now he’s getting really nasty.

  That pissed me off. He’d been harassing her all year and I was just finding out about that now? I knew he’d been talking shit about her the last time I saw him, but I hadn’t been worried about Ash brushing him off. She might have been a loner, but she’d never been a pushover. I knew, because of all the shit I’d given her, she’d never backed down from me.

  Me: Tell me.

  Ash: He’s telling everyone at school I’m giving him blow jobs. AS IF! Now I’ve got guys lining up at my locker every morning like I’m some kind of hooker. I wanted so bad to go to school and be normal…but here, without you, this kind of sucks. No pun intended.

  Me: I’ll take care of it.

  I saw the dots on the phone appear and disappear a few times. I knew her too well to know she wasn’t going to question how I was going to take care of it. She would simply trust me that it would be done. No, if she was hesitating about something, I knew what it was.

  Ash: Are you coming home after the semester?

  That was it. That was what she wanted to know. I wanted to say no so bad, but I
couldn’t. For two reasons. One, I’d gotten an internship at a brokerage only an hour outside of Harborview. Which meant I wasn’t going to be able to do the internship and hold down a job that paid enough for rent. So I needed a place to crash and the estate was my only option. Two, I didn’t like the reason I wanted to say no.

  I wanted to say no because I had this feeling. In my gut. Like I was nervous about seeing Ash, which was absolutely ridiculous. There was nothing scary about Ashleigh. I’d known her for years.

  I just felt like every time we came together now, there was this…thing. In the room with us. A thing I knew would land my ass in trouble.

  Call it instinct, but there were times I looked at Ash and it felt like she was going to be my ruin. Which was stupid. She was just a kid. That’s all she’d ever been. Just a stupid, pushy, up-in-my-business kid.

  I looked at the phone and considered not answering her. It was nothing to her what I did, or didn’t do, with my life.

  Me: Yeah. I’ll be home next week after my last final. I got an internship in the city.

  Ash: That’s awesome! And after only your freshman year! I knew it. I knew you would kill it. You can do anything. I’m soooooo proud of you!

  What was this feeling? Why did it always happen around her? I shouldn’t care that I’d made her proud. I shouldn’t give a shit what she thought.

  But I did.

  Because outside of her and George, no one else did.

  Me: It’s not a big deal. I’ll be on the job every day, so don’t think we’re going to hang by the pool and swap stories about your boyfriend problems.

  Ash: I don’t have a boyfriend problem. I have a blow-job problem. You’re going to fix that.

  I was. I was going to call Chris and tell him if he even looked in Ashleigh’s direction again, I was coming to hurt him. I still had enough clout in that town for him to know it was true.

  I wasn’t the kid who grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth. I was the kid with the heroin-addicted mom who grew up in a shitty apartment until CPS took me away. It meant I knew how to fight dirty.