“Looked like it was your kind of thing a minute ago,” he observed morosely. “But maybe I just didn’t have what you were looking for in a dance partner, huh? Maybe I’m not the right shade for you.”
Ashlyn’s smile vanished. “Excuse me. I think I need some air.” With that, she started to move away, but he caught her arm.
“No, wait. Inquiring minds want to know. Do you like getting it on with black men specifically, Ashlyn? Is that your thing?” He grabbed his crotch. “’Cuz I got a thing for you right — aghhh!”
He shrieked and started hopping around, courtesy of the foot stomp she’d just applied to his left foot, a little trick she’d learned in self-defense class. Amazing how it came back when you needed it. And amazing how effective it was. She would wager all Brian Caldwell was thinking about right now was staying upright and not puking.
Quickly, she stepped back, expecting a chaperone to materialize to escort the both of them out. A few kids turned their way, snickering and pointing, but no adults approached. Thank God! Now she really did need some air. What the hell kind of place was this? Was the whole town as racist as this idiot?
Before Caldwell could recover himself, she moved on. Bypassing the punch table, she went out into the hall, striding briskly down it. She needed air and some peace. And a drink from the fountain outside the Chem Lab. Dipping her head, she drank from it. When she’d had enough, she splashed her neck with the cold water, then sank down on her heels, resting her back against the cool wall.
Thank you, Mother, for those self-defense classes.
As soon as the thought popped into her head, loneliness sliced into her. God, when was she going to be able to see her mother again? She’d called earlier this week, but the message had been the same. “Your mother has specifically asked that you not visit, and the admitting physician concurs. It would only upset her.”
Upset her? Seeing her own daughter? What the hell was that ab—
Her thoughts were interrupted by a crashing sound, followed by an angry male voice. “Dammit, get off me! ”
“But Anthony—”
Oh, no! Degagne and Berg!
“I told you, Paulette, it’s over. What part of that don’t you understand?”
“But … but … the baby….”
“Your baby,” he clipped. “Not mine.”
“Oh, but it is! It couldn’t be anyone else’s. There’s only been you.”
“How do I know that? Besides, even if it is, it’s not my fault. Not my problem.” His words were coldly cruel. “This is on you, Paulette. You said it was safe. You said you were on birth control, that nothing could happen.”
Sobbing. “Please, Anthony….”
“I said get off! And stay the hell away from me. I’m happily married. This was a huge mistake. You and those damned sweaters! If it weren’t for the trampy way you dress all the time, I never would have stepped out of line.”
Oh, that worm! What a slimy, miserable excuse for a human being! Ashlyn fisted her hands, wishing she could go in there and pop him one.
More sobbing and pleading.
“God, Paulette, would you stop that sniveling?” Then, more calmly, “I have to go back to the dance. We both have to go back. So clean yourself up, okay? I’ll cover for you for a while.”
And Ashlyn had to get out of there. She tried the lab door, but — no surprise — it was locked. Crap! Nowhere to hide. She’d just have to improvise.
On tiptoes, she raced a few yards back down the hall, then turned as though she were just making her way toward the fountain. And not a moment too soon. Mr. Berg came barreling out of the classroom he and Ms. Degagne had been occupying. His steps slowed as soon as he saw her.
“Miss Caverhill,” he said sharply, “what are you doing out here?”
She fanned her face, which was no doubt convincingly flushed, though with fury, not overexertion. “That sweet punch just isn’t cutting it. I needed a drink of water and to splash my face.”
He frowned. “Well, do it now and I’ll escort you back.”
“Oh! Oh, sure. Just give me a sec.” She bent over the fountain, but just let the water slide down the drain. As knotted as her stomach felt right now, she didn’t think the water would go down. But maybe she should try to swallow a whole lot of it so she could puke it up on his shoes as they walked back to the gym. What a total douche. She splashed her face quickly, then turned back to him, certain of one thing: she wasn’t walking anywhere with him. “I’ll make my own way back. ’Kaythanksbye.”
She dashed back down the hall and into the gym.
Poor Ms. Degagne. Ashlyn renewed her pledge to find a way to befriend the woman. And this time, she’d do it. First thing on Monday, in fact. For all that she was the school librarian, the poor girl didn’t seem that much older than Ashlyn herself. And the trouble she found herself in made her seem that much younger again. It shouldn’t be hard to relate.
The Flo Rida tune had finished and something else was just starting up. Ashlyn didn’t recognize it but thought it might be Rhianna. As she moved across the floor, she noticed that everyone had gravitated to one corner of the gym. Almost before she processed that though, her heart started jackhammering. This could not be good.
It wasn’t.
Caden stood surrounded by the two Caldwell brothers and one other jock wannabe who tended to tag along behind Brian. And oh, God, Caden had assumed what she recognized from her self-defense classes as a defensive posture.
“Look at this,” Brian said. “We got a regular Blackie Chan on our hands, boys.”
Ashlyn caught her breath. “Caden!”
If he heard her, he didn’t turn.
Rachel rushed up to her, grabbing her arm. “Ashlyn! There you are! Thank God.” She glanced around desperately. “Where the hell are the chaperones anyway? There are three of those jerks and they’re bigger! They’re gonna hurt him, Ash.”
Someone was going to get hurt, but Ashlyn wasn’t entirely sure it was Caden. His posture was too relaxed, too assured. Which is probably why the other boys just circled him, looking for an opening. The music continued to play. Either the DJ was oblivious, or he was too caught up in the drama to think about killing the music.
“What happened?” she shouted at Rachel.
“That dipstick Brian Caldwell called me something vile and Caden took offense.”
Suddenly, the music stopped, and Mr. Berg’s voice boomed out. “You, there! You kids, break it up.” He strode toward the knot of people, and the boys backed down. Caden dropped his arms. “Mr. Caldwell, that means you, and your brother, as well. You, too, Mr. Boone. And you, Mr.—” Berg did a double take. “Excuse me, who are you?”
“Caden Williams, sir.”
Ashlyn pushed forward. “He’s my escort, Mr. Berg. He’s signed in and everything.”
A pause. “I see. Well, I think the four of you gentlemen need to leave.” He turned to Brian, “Except you, Mr. Caldwell. You’ve obviously been drinking on school property. You’ll come with me to the office where your father can fetch you.”
Taking the kid by his collar, Berg marched him toward the exit.
Ashlyn moved to Caden’s side. “I’m so sorry. This place sucks. I shouldn’t have brought you here….”
“I don’t know if the whole place sucks or not, but that one guy’s definitely a jerk.”
He didn’t know the half of it. “Let’s go.”
“I second that motion,” Rachel said. “Like, right now.”
“Hey, wait up!”
The three were almost out the door when the male voice sounded behind them.
Ashlyn whirled. Defensively, Caden and Rachel turned too, expecting another confrontation from the group of three young men and two young women behind them.
One of the boys spoke up. “We’re not all like that, man. Brian drinks, he gets mouthy and … well, like I said, we’re not all like that here.”
“Thanks. That’s good to know.” Caden acknowledged the group with a nod
and opened the door for the girls.
Five minutes later, they were back on the road. And five minutes after that, they’d rehashed the confrontation and decided it didn’t deserve further discussion.
“So what do we do now?” Rachel asked. “Crawl home at eight o’clock with our tails between our legs? Or make our own fun?”
What kind of a question was that? What choice did they have? “Oh, great idea,” Ashlyn said. “Let’s go to the Imax theatre. Whoops, wait a minute, you don’t have one. You don’t even have a regular theatre.” Or an arcade, or a mall, or a frickin’ bowling alley, she added mentally.
Rachel laughed. “Oh, ye of little imagination.” To Caden she said, “Take that fork that’s coming up on the left.”
“The Post Road?”
“That’s the one.”
Ashlyn perked up. “What’s on the Post Road?”
Rachel smiled. “You’ll see.”
Ten minutes later, Rachel directed Caden to turn onto another side road. Well, it was more like a lane or a private driveway, and it led them into a meadow of sorts.
“Stop right here,” Rachel said, and was out of the car almost before Caden could kill the engine. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Ashlyn slipped out of the SUV and Caden came around to join them. In front of them stretched a beautiful grassy meadow. It was late in the season now, but Ashlyn could easily imagine it in the height of summer with lots of wildflowers. As it was, the dipping sun turned everything to gold.
“Very beautiful,” she agreed.
“Hey, I think I’ve got a blanket in the back,” Caden said. “I’ll fetch it.”
He was back with it a moment later. But not before firing up the car’s radio and sliding all the windows down. The strains of Kid Rock’s, All Summer Long reached them.
“The local station,” he said apologetically. “It’s the best I can offer, since I don’t have my iPod with me. Unless you’d rather listen to my mom’s operatic arias. That’s all she listens to when she drives.”
“No, this is great.” And it was, really. Better than opera, anyway. Ashlyn had been here long enough to know the station played a mix of classic rock and top 40. Sometimes it actually didn’t suck too bad.
“Hey, our dance was interrupted,” Rachel said. “Dance with me, Caden.”
He did. Then he picked her up and whirled her until she hooted with laughter. Then the music changed and he danced with Ashlyn, and then they all danced together. After which they collapsed giggling on the blanket Caden had spread on the grass. While the sun dipped lower and lower, they laughed and talked and did their best to forget about the ugliness back there at the school.
Finally Caden said, “We should probably get going. I promised Maudette I’d have Ashlyn home before dark.”
They rolled up the blanket and climbed back into the Bimmer. Within eight minutes, they’d delivered Rachel up to her door.
As always, Ashlyn felt a pang leaving her. “Are you going to be okay?”
She grinned. “I’m going to be fabulous. Quiet times at Casa Riley, remember?”
They said their goodbyes and headed out. As the SUV ate up the miles, Ashlyn cleared her throat. “You’re not actually going to drive me directly home, are you?”
He looked over at her. “What else can I do? I promised Maudette.”
“Okay, how about this for a compromise? Drive me almost home. We can park on the side of the road again and make out until the very last moment before full darkness. You can then run me the last quarter mile and keep your promise. And I….” She let her broad smile seep into her words. “Well, I can lay my hands on you again.”
“Why you wicked woman.”
“Like you haven’t been thinking about it too!”
He groaned. “Every damned minute.”
He pulled the vehicle over onto the shoulder a good distance from Maudette’s. Ashlyn could see the porch light through the trees. As Caden killed the engine and the headlights, she hit the seatbelt release. Then they were reaching for each other across the console, kissing, touching. Ashlyn’s right hand sought the warm, muscled hardness of his chest, while her left hand went up into his hair. As his mouth explored hers, his hand cupped her face, then dropped to her throat, her collarbone. Groaning, she put her own hand over his and drew it down to where she wanted it.
She felt his gasp against her lips and smiled. Then his hand contracted and she was too lost in pleasure to think about who was leading whom.
Predictably, it was Caden who fought his way back to sanity.
“Ash.” He smoothed his hand over her hair, her face. “Ash, baby, we have to get you home. There’s barely any light left. If we don’t get you there in the next five minutes, I’ll make a liar out of myself.”
She pulled back, drawing a shaky breath. “You’re right. Just give me a sec to fix myself up a bit.”
She dropped the visor and flipped up the mirror, which immediately lit up. Caden also obliged by turning on the dome light for her. There wasn’t much she could do to erase the flush on her cheeks, but she finger-combed her hair and rubbed away a smear of lip gloss. “There.” She flipped the visor back up. “Ready.”
Just as Caden reached to key the ignition, they heard it. The long, lonesome whistle of the troop train.
They both froze.
“Rachel!”
Caden started the car, banged a uey, and stomped on the accelerator. They shot away from the opposite shoulder in a spurt of gravel before the tires gained purchase on the pavement.
Chapter 12
PRESCOTT JUNCTION WAS EERILY quiet. Eerily dark and stone-still as Caden and Ashlyn tore through the streets. It was as if every curtain had pulled tightly closed and every door had slammed completely shut when the train whistle had sounded.
“They’re all in their beds,” Caden said, as if echoing Ashlyn’s thoughts. Both his hands were tight on the wheel at ten and two, and he stared straight ahead as he sped through the village.
“Let’s just hope they all stay in their beds. Including Rachel. Especially Rachel.” Ashlyn pulled a tight breath. “She promised.”
“Yeah, she did. But you heard the radio.” Caden’s dark eyes met hers just long enough for her to see the depth of his worry. “The conductor’s coming to meet her. He’s hell bent on meeting her. He wants her, Ash. And you saw that look on her face the other night. That….”
“Pull,” Ashlyn finished for him. “That beautiful lure. Maybe she can’t help but run to the tracks when the whistle sounds.” Ashlyn bit down hard on the fear. She’d felt that seductive dark comfort too. Apparently not as strong as Rachel, but she’d felt it. “And that song, Caden. It’s not if she comes. It’s when she comes.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Ashlyn slammed a hand to the SUV’s dash as Caden squealed around the corner, but she had no complaints about Caden’s heavy foot. Less than thirty seconds later, he took another sharp turn, this time taking them off the road.
Small rocks spun up and pinged off the underside of the SUV as Caden streaked across the rough, gravel-covered parking lot behind the train station. Ashlyn could almost feel him cringing — Papa Williams wouldn’t be pleased. Caden drove up to the platform, bringing the car to a stop as close to the tracks as possible.
The old train station? “Why are we stopping here?”
“Because I imagine Rachel always watches — always waits — for the train at the same spot. The one where we met her the other night.” Caden unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for the door handle. “Didn’t she say it was the best place for viewing?”
Of course Rachel would watch from that outcropping of land by the river. While the other night, Ashlyn and Caden had arrived there via the woods path, Rachel had taken her own short cut to get there. Ashlyn unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped into the night with Caden. Into the darkness of it, in quiet Prescott Junction.
Caden offered his hand. She took it, stepped down, then over one barely-visible silver railing t
o walk on the ties.
Walking home by the tracks after school under the afternoon sun was one thing, but trekking along them now on this dark, cloud-covered night, was another thing entirely. The dark closed in around them, and the cold held tight to their skin. As they walked further away from the station, down toward the train bridge they would have to cross, even the lone yellow light of the station twinkled out behind them. No crickets sounded from the brush that lined both sides of the track. No owls hooted, or dogs barked in the distance. Except for the quiet rush of the rapids that grew louder as they neared, the only sound Ashlyn was aware of at all was the noise of their own fast breathing as she and Caden hurried along the narrow tracks. She wished for sound — any sound! — until she finally heard that damnable one again, as the train whistle blew into the night.
More urgently now, closer. And somehow with promise.
Caden tightened his grip on her hand and she squeezed right back. They’d have to hurry — across the bridge and down the slope to the river to wait for the train. She felt Caden stiffen as he moved toward the center of the bridge.
“Wait,” she said. “Take the walkway along the side. We don’t want to be caught on the tracks when that train comes along.”
“Oh hell, no.”
They’d both seen how fast that train had moved the other night. Caden followed her lead as they raced to the wooden walkway, their feet clomping down on the black wood as they ran.
Would the train go right though us if we were standing on the tracks? Run us over? If our bodies dropped dead, would our souls be on that train? Trapped with the others?
But as soon as Ashlyn’s mind formed the questions, it formed one undisputable, unmistakable answer: you needed a ticket to truly get trapped on the train.
The conductor had held one out the other night to Rachel, and then offered it to her instead. And the price of the ticket was your soul, if you chose to board the dark beast.
“Is she there?” Ashlyn drew in a deep breath as they reached the end of the walkway and peered down the slope.
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