Was she still pissed?
Hell yes. But this declaration, coupled with his effort to stay clean today, proved he was serious about their future. If anything could cheer Ashley up, this was it.
And instantly she felt better than she had in months.
Henry held the box higher and bowed his head slightly. It was as if he was offering everything he was, not just the shiny symbol (which was beautiful, perfect, perfect), but his soul, his entire being, from the tip of his blue Mohawk to the heels of his scuffed combat boots.
She stared down at him and watched his face contort as it tried to find the words. Love junk was hard for him. Ashley enjoyed the sweet squirming.
“It’s a ring.” Duh? Stating the obvious he went on, “And we don’t have to have no formal wedding or nothing, but I would really like you to be my girl always and always.” His eyes darted from side to side searching for the right words. “The tour is coming and, well,” a long pause and then real fast, “will you marry me?”
Ashley let him off the hook and nodded in affirmation. She carefully took the ring from the box and turned it over a few times. It was gorgeous. She knew little about wedding rings or diamond cuts but this was definitely an exquisite piece of work. Henry stood and helped her to place it on her ring finger. Tears began to well.
They hugged for a full three minutes.
What a trip. One minute death spiraling, hating the world and people and life, the next walking on a cushion of air. Even Errol, who came by CHAOS for some paperwork, noticed the change. He double-taked and looked at her quizzically. His bushy eyebrows raised and silently asked, “Ashley?”
Beaming she held out her ringed hand.
“The old dog finally making an honest woman out you, huh?”
Errol liked Henry and he seemed genuinely happy for their impending union. On his way out he inquired about a wedding date. Ashley hadn’t even thought that far ahead yet. For now it just felt good to wear the ring and worship her man completely, her man fated, and her man official.
Work was even turning out to be a joy (for a change). After the proposal her and Henry made up, had a wonderful evening together and stayed up until four in the morning talking about everything – life, love, the end of heroin, punk rock – everything. Ashley figured she was toast for work and planned on hiding behind her sunglasses and moping through the day. Surprisingly she felt great when she woke and that good, revived feeling carried her all the way through the morning. It wasn’t until just this very moment that things began to fracture a bit as an uneasy thought crept in and blackened the seemingly perpetual sunshine that lightened her mood.
Montgomery.
She stood him up, completely forgetting about their quasi date. Worse, she even forgot to tell Henry about making the quasi date to get back at him for reneging on his promise to stay away from heroin. This whole thing wasn’t going to just go away. She had to call Montgomery and settle up. She decided she would be straight and honest. She would tell him that Henry proposed and she was sorry, but things weren’t going to work out. Even as friends. Her relationship was like that and she owed it to her new fiancé to respect it. It all sounded fairly reasonable, did it not?
The only odd wrinkle that made the situation feel a little more uncomfortable than it need be was their common interest in Heather. Though she knew it was ridiculous to think such things, Ashley almost felt like she was disparaging Heather’s name in some way. By blowing Montgomery off there was no chance to discuss Heather and let him know just how wonderful she was. There was no way to prove her worth by association. Instead, he probably thought the two of them were birds of a feather, flakey and flirty and empty (which, Ashley supposed wouldn’t be too far from the truth).
Once she had everything hammered out, she dug Montgomery’s business card out of the junk drawer and prepared to make the call. She stared at the phone for a long while. Nerves paralyzed her. She was a little scared and a lot mad at herself for getting into this idiotic predicament. It’s no big deal, she kept telling herself, and it wasn’t, but it was. Here was that dishonesty she abhorred in Henry. What kind of hypocrite was she?
Her hand grabbed the receiver just as a customer came waltzing in. Less than eager to face her mistakes, she abandoned the phone and went about steering a kid away from the commercial rap section to CHAOS’ eclectic underground racks.
Hour after hour got away from her and before Ashley knew it, it was quitting time. The fear and worry nagged, but she decided it would be best just to wait until tomorrow to call. One more day wouldn’t hurt anything. Besides, she was excited to get home, her and Henry planned on celebrating their engagement properly with a nice evening out.
The moment she reached the parking lot her stomach dropped and a lump rose in her throat. Montgomery’s Maserati was parked alongside her hunk of junk.
He didn’t notice her right away and appeared to be staring off into space or something. Ashley kept her head high and quickened her pace. Maybe she would be able to get into her car, start it up and drive away without him noticing. Which of course was ridiculous as his car was no more than four feet from hers. Whatever happened, she thought it best just to play dumb. For the umpteenth time she reminded herself that this wasn’t a big deal.
They would talk.
She would apologize.
He would understand.
Life would go on.
By the time she got her key into the door, her back to Montgomery’s beautiful car, she heard him getting out. It wasn’t going to be that easy.
“Ashley,” he called. His voice was even and non confrontational.
Feigning confusion she turned to face him. “Montgomery?”
He walked around his car and stood a few feet away. He was wearing his work clothes and oddly enough a pair of leather gloves. Yet not so odd, they were stylish and sleek and they went right along with his car – Ashley always imagined men (or women) who drove expensive cars wore such gloves, the kind with knuckle holes.
“I waited for you last night.”
Ashley ramped up the dumb act. She smacked her forehead and gave him a look of disbelief. “Shit! I am so sorry, Montgomery. I can’t believe I forgot.”
He gave her a weak smile. “Yeah. I waited for an hour.” His smile broadened, “The pizza was excellent.”
“The best in the city.”
“So?”
“Right. Look, I really am sorry. It’s not like me to make plans and then break them. I had a big night and it totally slipped my mind.”
“You forgot?” His face maintained a cool calm and it looked as if he understood, but the goading question hinted that he was probably upset underneath his even façade.
“Yeah. I know that sounds terrible.” Ashley reached out and touched his arm lightly, the smallest gesture of warmth and then continued explaining herself. “I’m just gonna lay it all out for you.”
He nodded.
“Okay. When I called you I was feeling depressed and I missed Heather and I just wanted someone to talk to. And as you remember we had a great conversation and I wanted to continue it so dinner sounded perfect. But, and here is where I feel like a jerk, I never mentioned that I have a serious boyfriend or that we were fighting.”
His eyebrows dipped a tad.
“I didn’t think it mattered because I was so pissed off at him. But while I was getting ready to meet you he proposed to me,” she held out her ring and shifted her hand so that it sparkled. “The rest is kind of hazy. I’m still in a state of shock I think.” Ashley smiled and shrugged.
Montgomery nodded and stared at the ring. “It’s lovely.”
Ashley retracted her hand and then put it out again for a handshake, “Friends then? I’m sorry for not calling and letting you know.”
Montgomery took it gently and shook lightly. “Everything happens for a reason I suppose.”
“I suppose it does.” That felt sufficient. Ashley was ready to wrap it up and be on her way. “So take care then.”
She gave a little wave and then waited awkwardly for him to leave.
With a slight bowing of the head he turned and Ashley returned her attentions to unlocking her car. She listened to his footfalls echo a few steps and then abruptly halt just as she got the door open. The small hairs on the back of her neck tingled. The footfalls resumed, this time approaching. Ashley turned and Montgomery stood a few feet away.
“Like with Heather.” He hit a button on his key ring and the tiny trunk of his Maserati unlatched.
“What?” ‘Like with Heather?’ Where was he going with this? Ashley thought they were done.
“Reason. Fate. I think there must have been some deeper reason Heather and I met. Don’t you?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry but I really gotta go.” Over the past ten seconds things seemed to take a hairy turn for the worse. The air around them crackled with negative energy. Ashley’s stomach tensed up and her skin flushed with cool sweat.
Montgomery took another step closer. “I won’t keep you long, it’s just that–”
His words petered out and he took yet another step closer. Ashley pulled her door open and dipped into the car. Once safe inside all she had to do was close the door and take off. She might have to tell Henry about this guy. He was starting to creep her out.
Before her bottom touched down upon the driver’s seat, Ashley was yanked up and out. Montgomery had his gloved hands gripped firmly around her neck. When she cleared the car he tried to retain a grip (and strangle her?) but momentum drove them both to the ground.
In her mind she screamed every expletive in the book, but outwardly she struggled to keep her composure and get to safety. She didn’t want to be one of those idiots that succumbed to thought or fear and tripped themselves up rather than get free. There would be plenty of time for rationale later, now it was all about blunt force and will.
Montgomery was trying to get his hands around her, to contain her, but Ashley wormed away from his grip, rolled a few times and then leaped to her feet. She kicked at Montgomery’s head as hard as she could and landed one, maybe two, good hits before he brought his arms up for protection. Taking advantage of his weakness she jumped over his prone form and started to get back in her car.
During the struggle she dropped her car keys on the driver’s side floor, so before sitting in the driver’s seat and locking the door behind her, she crouched and dug for the errant keys. The moment she got her hand around them she felt Montgomery grab hold of her ankle. Ashley kicked ferociously, her foot slamming against his midsection mercilessly. She heard Montgomery grunt and felt what she thought to be ribs snapping beneath the force of her foot.
Rather than slowing her attacker, the pummeling provoked and brought him on stronger. He lost grip of her ankle but recouped and locked the entire leg up in a crushing bear hug. Using his size he twisted and Ashley was powerless to resist the pull. Her body rolled, she slammed her forehead against the steering column and mashed the fuck out of her ribs, just below her breasts. Electric stars shot across her vision and her breath hitched erratically.
Montgomery seized upon her stunned state and pulled her completely free of the car. The hurt compounded as she hit the pavement, her flailing hands first, her left cheekbone next. The blow fuzzed her vision and sent an army of tingles dancing from her cheekbone outward. The sensation wanted to morph into blistering pain, but it was still too new and the feeling took on a numb quality. It felt wet. And cold.
Ashley tightened her muscles and convulsed a few times in an effort to try and buck her attacker off, but the damage was pretty pervasive and all but incapacitated her. Montgomery disentangled their bodies and stood over her writhing form. Ashley had trouble making sense of what was up and what was down. She felt Montgomery move closer and then one of his large hands as it got a firm grip on the back of her head and latched on to her skull like a vise. In a brutal, violent motion her attacker’s clutching hand wrenched her head backward, pulling it up from the concrete. Ashley got a quick glimpse of a widening red puddle – her broken cheek had begun to sting and instead of a slimy cold, wet feeling, her entire face buzzed with heat, the wet patches to fire.
Time halted.
The world slowed.
The crimson puddle grew.
In an instant, the hand slammed her head full force into the slick, bloodied asphalt.
VII
The Pressure Cooker
Oh man.
What now?
What now?
It was never Montgomery’s intention to kidnap Ashley.
He didn’t know what he was planning on doing, but it definitely didn’t involve abduction or murder.
A simple talk perhaps?
Sitting in the parking lot waiting for her to get off work he went over things a few times in his head. He was going to be extra nice and figure out what happened to her the night before. There was a good explanation, he was sure of it. And whether she was willing to reschedule their date or blow him off completely, Montgomery planned on responding accordingly, civilly and then keeping his cool and going on his way.
But now she was in his trunk (he didn’t even think he could get a body into the mini-trunk of his Maserati. Apparently he could. When push came to shove and you were struggling with an unconscious woman in a very public parking lot, you could probably find a way to cram a lot of things into places were they didn’t seem to fit). She was less than comfortable, mashed into place without any regard for such, but alive and well just the same. Her face was a mess, bloodied as it was by the unrelenting concrete, but her pulse beat regular and she grunted and groaned accordingly as he shoved her into the cramped confines of the tiny trunk.
Oh man.
What now?
What now?
Montgomery had no clue. He fished his cell phone from his pants (not an easy feat from within the measly cockpit of his car) and called Maize. He was due in for dinner service, already running late, but would have to get one of his sous chefs to step up and fill in for him tonight.
What a monstrous mess.
Gripping the steering wheel, racing home, he felt like crying – really crying – full on girl crying. The lumps in his throat were impossible to swallow and wouldn’t let up and the heat misting the back of his eyeballs intensified until – just like that – he shut it off and held it together.
Pressure builds and builds and builds, and before you know it things break.
A rundown?
A rundown.
Montgomery didn’t know where to begin.
The past few months had been hard. Like idiots he and Liz consumed the meat he harvested from Heather in a little over two months time. It was supposed to last a full four months. In fact, by his calculations they would have been just finishing up this week if they hadn’t splurged so Goddamn much. But they did, and once out of meat everything started to get real rough. Real rough. Liz got crankier and crankier. No matter how hard he fought and reasoned with her, she would not let off her murder kick. Each passing day she seemed to get progressively worse and worse. Montgomery felt like he was at his wit’s end.
There was so much crap piling up and driving him crazy.
1. The acid barrel in the garage needed to be emptied.
2. Out and about, minding his own business, he saw a missing poster with Heather’s pretty face emblazoned upon it. She was smiling and staring right through him with arresting, lost, frozen eyeballs.
3. Maize was up for an important review.
4. Ashley’s resemblance to victim number one kept fucking with him.
5. He started remodeling the hall bathroom and had yet to finish. Needless to say the room was in shambles.
6. It was last month, maybe even the month before, when he finally came to the decision that he was going to kill Liz.
Seriously.
Not just fleeting anger, not anger at all, but necessity prompted him to devise a plan. She was going to get them caught and he had to put an end to it. He couldn’t just break
up with her. They were forever bound by the blood that was spilled between them and the meat they greedily ingested, but it was getting to the point where he didn’t think he could continue with her. Montgomery didn’t find murder, or murderers, attractive. He knew what he was and found it absolutely repulsive; he didn’t want to date someone that was as ruined and as internally blackened as he was. Perhaps he was being a bit hypocritical, but it was what it was. No matter how hard he tried to smile through things and figure ways in which to make things fair he couldn’t change how he felt.
And to make matters worse, Liz didn’t even care.
Not about being killed. Montgomery was sure she cared about that (not that he was planning on letting her know before he did the deed).
She simply didn’t seem to care about how he felt.
He tried to explain, to beg, to plead, but no matter what he tried, nothing got through. It was as if she was possessed by death, fixated on the art of taking a life. He suspected she thought it was the only way she could transcend the bullshit – like she had been dealt a shitty hand in life and the best way to reverse the wrong was to take on the role of a demigod and administer a little pain. Choosing when and where and how someone was to die, and then going one step further and delivering the death blow was indeed a heady experience.
Montgomery wished he could accommodate her wishes, but over and over again his brain refused to comply. As much as he hated her for forcing the issue and being a royal bitch, he loved her a million times more and couldn’t let her do it. The regret and pain and grief and distress, the black stain that devoured you from the inside out, were not worth it. She couldn’t understand.
It was frustrating as hell. She was acting like an idiot teenager, like she didn’t have a grasp upon the ways of the world. The matter was particularly irksome because Liz was so damn smart. She wasn’t an airhead girly girl that only thought about shopping and gossip and materialistic pursuits. She was one of the smartest people he had ever met. She was always going on about this or that, often losing Montgomery in her thoroughly developed arguments. She was going to be a doctor for Christ’s sake. She was dedicating her life to helping people, to saving people. Why would she want to fuck all that up?
As Fate Would Have It Page 17