by Bright, Sera
“It was the kiss on the hand that did it, wasn’t it?” A shadow of a grin pulled at his mouth.
“Don’t gloat, it’s not attractive.” It was incredibly attractive.
We began walking toward my truck, sitting at the mouth of the alley.
When came up to my truck, I first noticed the flat tire on the driver’s side and cursed myself for not replacing the spare sooner. A lead weight formed in my stomach when I finally saw the smashed windshield, though. Green-tinted lines spiraled out from the glass. A piece of paper flapped in the wind under a rusting windshield wiper. I didn’t think a concerned citizen had left it.
Ash held out his arm, stopping me from going any closer. “Stay here.”
He strode over to the sidewalk on the main street. The streetlamp above him glowed bright, drawing the outline of his shadow down the alley. He scanned up and down the street. I wrapped my arms around my waist. Muffled noises came from the party over the café and echoed off the brick walls of the buildings surrounding us. I would hear any footsteps coming, but I couldn’t stop glancing over my shoulder as Ash prowled around my truck.
On the other side of my truck, he called over to me, “This front tire is flat, too.”
I walked closer to the truck, and knelt down to a tire. Several puncture marks marred the dark, smooth rubber of the tire wall. I stood up to see Ash snatch the note out from under the wiper. He read it and handed it to me. A single word scrawled across the paper in child-like handwriting. Freak. Trevor was the only person who ever called me that. Everyone else was more polite to my face.
“Do you think he’s still upstairs?” Ash’s voice sounded cold and remote.
“I don’t know.” I shoved the note in my bag with shaking hands. “He could’ve gone in and out a dozen times by now.”
He gave me a long, hard look. “You have to call the police.”
“And tell them what?” My head started to pound, as if I didn’t have enough problems. “It’s my word against Trevor’s, and no one will believe me anyway.”
I leaned over the dented hood and examined more of the damage. In the middle of the glittering broken glass, a crumbling red brick lay on top, adding to the existing dents and scratches in the robin’s-egg-blue paint. Ash pulled out his phone, and hit a button on the screen.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
I couldn’t accuse the town’s golden boy of ongoing harassment and vandalism. No one would listen. And I couldn’t give the police any reason to put Ash on their radar. With his mother actively campaigning, I wanted to think Ash talking to the police wasn’t likely to come to anything—but when you’re dealing with a fucking psychopath, who really knows what they’re capable of? I ran around the truck to where he stood.
He ignored me. “Yes, my friend’s truck has been damaged and she needs to report it.”
I grabbed for the phone. He spun around while calmly giving the dispatcher the address, like my distress didn’t bother him in the least. He ended the call with a glare in my direction. Oh, hell no. He didn’t get to be the mad one.
“What is your problem?” I demanded. “If I wanted to involve the police, I would’ve called them.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You weren’t going to call them, that’s the problem. You’re convinced you have to handle everything on your own.”
“Because I do handle everything on my own!” I flung out a hand toward my truck. “I just have basic insurance. I’ll have to pay for the damage anyway. There’s no reason to file a police report.”
“The reason is because Trevor is escalating his obsession with you, and you’re acting like it’s in harmless good fun.”
That’s right. I developed a migraine the moment I read the note because I thought it was so damn funny. But if I made a big deal out of it, Trevor would know he’d gotten what he wanted, that I was frightened enough to tell someone. I wasn’t going to let him win.
“He’s just pissed that I didn’t want to be his next victim,” I told Ash through gritted teeth. “If you want me to trust you so badly, this isn’t the way to do it.”
“I forgot,” he said. “Only Katie gets to make decisions about what’s best for other people?”
I sucked in a breath. He knew what I’d done last summer. He may not have known the details, but he knew enough to guess why I left. He scrubbed a hand over his face.
Under the light of the streetlamp, the knuckles on one of his hands were bruised and swollen. The same hand I’d just tried to hold a few minutes ago in the alley. That must be why he reacted the way he had when I tried to hold his hand. Everything clicked together. The fight I heard upstairs. His disappearance at the café, and his subsequent reappearance in the alley.
“What happened to your hand, Ash?”
“Why should I tell you?” He lowered his hand to his side. “You have to start acting like you trust me just a little before I can start telling you my secrets, too.”
I wasn’t the only person talented at hiding the truth behind my words. He said he wanted me to trust him, but what he really wanted was to be able to trust me again. I pressed my lips together and said nothing.
Ash sighed, and then reached out to me. “Look—”
I took a step backwards. It was always going to come back to the fact that I’d lied last summer. He deserved someone he could trust. Someone he could believe in. And that someone wasn’t going to be me.
A cruiser drove up and slowed down as it approached us on the sidewalk. The cop parked on the street and flipped on his lights. The red and blue beams blinded me, and I focused on a spot on the ground. The cruiser door slammed shut, and I knew I didn’t have any choice but to deal with this now. Too late to run. Ash rubbed my shoulder, and I jerked away from his hand. I didn’t want him to comfort me, I wanted him to go back in time and skip calling the freaking police in the first place.
“Ma’am?” the officer asked. “Did you call about your vehicle being vandalized?”
I squinted through the lights. He was a young guy, probably only a few years older than us. There was an eagerness to him, like he wished he had a reason to Taser someone, judging by the way his hand kept going to his utility belt. Ash hovered by my side.
“Yes.” I pointed to my truck, deciding it was self-explanatory at this point. You couldn’t miss the busted-out windshield.
The officer walked around it, methodically checking it over with his flashlight. Radio static crackled, and he cocked his head to the side to talk, but I didn’t catch what he said. Each flash of light sent searing pain to a point behind my eyes.
Another police car drove up, an SUV this time, and parked alongside the cruiser. My heart fell to my knees when the officer stepped out. Ash’s father walked with stooped shoulders and a permanent scowl on his face. It took everything I had not to let my total hatred show on my face. He went over to the officer by my truck, and they talked quietly while glancing over to us.
“Go,” I whispered to Ash. This was my problem, not his.
Ash kept his eyes on his father.
“You have to go!” I stood on my toes and whispered frantically in his ear. “I can take care of this by myself.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with him.” He stepped in front of me, shielding me from his father’s line of sight.
I had to let it go. If I pushed it any further, they were going to notice us fighting, and that was the last thing I wanted, especially with Officer Taser already giving us the side eye.
Sergeant Townsend walked over from the truck. His gaze landed on Ash, trying to stare him down. Ash won when his father looked away first. I stepped out from behind Ash and he put an arm around my shoulders. I couldn’t shrug his arm off without his father noticing, but my heart hammered at the possible ramifications of such a public declaration. They won’t risk anything right now, not with his mother’s campaign starting soon, I chanted in my head over and over. But all the logic in the world couldn’t calm my heart rate down, couldn’t c
alm my fears.
“Miss Flynn, you’re going to need to file a report. You can do that with Officer Ballard later.” He looked everywhere but in my direction while he spoke. “Did you see anyone around your vehicle earlier, or have any idea who may have done this?”
I wasn’t going to tell him a fucking thing. I lifted my chin, and hoped it didn’t tremble. “No, I was working at the café until fifteen minutes ago.”
Ash went rigid next to me. I nudged my elbow into his side in warning.
Sergeant Townsend glanced to the street and back to the truck. “Why did you park it here where no one can see it?”
Silly me, I didn’t think ahead and plan for the possibility of someone coming along and smashing the windshield in. I muttered, “It was the only parking space available earlier this evening.”
“Does that matter?” Ash’s voice dripped with condescension. “She parked in a legal spot and did everything right. It’s not her responsibility if someone else breaks the law, right, Sergeant Townsend?”
Ash’s face remained expressionless, but at the same time, managed to convey quite clearly, Go fuck yourself.
Sergeant Townsend finally looked at me. His face was smooth and unlined, but redness from broken blood vessels permanently blushed his cheeks, prematurely aging him. Something very much like regret passed over his face, which was ridiculous. Regret meant having a soul in the first place. “All right, the officer is going to take your report now. If you have any more trouble, Miss Flynn, don’t hesitate to call.”
He took several steps closer to us while he reached into the pocket of his uniform pants. Ash’s arm flexed across my shoulders, pulling me close to him. Ash’s face radiated fury. His lip curled back, baring a hint of teeth. I looked to Sergeant Townsend, afraid of his reaction. With a blank face, he slipped a business card out of his wallet and held it out to me. I stared dumbfounded at the police officer. He was seriously deranged if he thought I would ever contact him.
Black lashes framed sad hazel eyes as the older man stared back at me. The resemblance between father and son was strong, except that Ash possessed a heart and a conscience. The knot in my chest twisted tight. It didn’t matter. He just needed to leave us alone.
Ash knocked the card out of his hand. “If she needs anything, you’re the last person she’s going to call.”
Every muscle in my body froze, and a lance of pain stabbed me through my temple. Please tell me Ash didn’t just assault a police officer, I thought, even if this one fucking deserved it. I clutched at the back of Ash’s t-shirt. Instead of reacting in anger, the remorse on Ash’s father’s face deepened. He just nodded at Ash and then walked away.
We watched him drive away, still holding onto each other. Brake lights glowed red as he slowed down in front of the café, but the police SUV kept driving. I released a breath. At least one thing went right tonight. I pulled away from Ash, and massaged my forehead. The pain in my head was increasing with each passing second. I needed to go home soon. I wasn’t going to last much longer. Officer Taser-Ballard walked over with a clipboard, less eager now that no criminals had been found lurking in the shadows.
I handed him my information and answered his questions over an agonizing fifteen minutes. The whole time, Ash remained firmly by my side, glowering or brooding or whatever it was that pissed-off males do. The effort to not acknowledge his disapproval made the headache all the worse.
It didn’t ease off when the officer finally drove off with his lights from hell. I walked with deliberate steps to the bench and sat down, muscles quivering. The pain in my head was moving into dangerous territory. I leaned forward, covering my face with my hands.
“We need to talk,” Ash said. “Now.”
I peeked through my fingers. He paced in front of the wrought iron street lamp.
“You had the perfect opportunity to tell someone,” Ash seethed. “He’s not going to stop, especially now he knows you’re not going to say anything.”
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. “What was I was supposed to do? Tattle on Trevor to your father? I’m sure that would have gone over well.”
“You could’ve told the other officer! You had plenty of chances to actually tell him something. Anything. You could’ve just given him the note. But instead you just shut down, like you always do.”
“And I don’t understand why you’re suddenly trying to act like this place is all happy flowers and romping kittens. Where magically everyone cares about everyone else’s problems.” I uncovered my eyes. “Look what just happened. See how well that went? Your father showed up and I was basically told it was my fault for parking in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Believe me, I really didn’t think he was going to show up. The last I knew, he had a desk job. The other officer must have called him over the radio when he recognized me. I didn’t mean for that to happen, trust me.”
I did believe him. The suppressed rage in his body and his face when his father showed up had been painful to see.
With a quick shake of his head, he crossed his arms over his chest again. “And he isn’t the whole police department, so stop worrying about him so much.”
I stood up. I had been right earlier—he knew but he didn’t truly understand. “He’ll find a way to make everything worse!”
Fuck. The backlash of pain in my head stunned me. Shouting really wasn’t a good idea.
“How do you know that?” he challenged. “How do you know the whole police department is corrupt by association?”
I opened my mouth to retort how they took Jerry’s kickbacks to look the other way. But I’d promised Helen to keep it to myself. I hated myself enough already for my broken promises. “I just do.”
He spread his arms out in frustration. “Hell, how do you trust anyone at all? You’re telling me you went out and traveled around the country and never met one person you could believe would help anyone else?”
I shook my head. “No, it was different out there.”
“How?”
“It’s this fucking place! Everyone knows everything, and they don’t do a damn thing to stop anything bad happening, just use it as a weapon against each other.” Struggling not to yell, I lowered my voice. “But away from here, no one knew me. I didn’t know them. And I liked it that way.”
He moved toward me, his eyes flashing. “Then why did you even come back, if you hate everyone and everything here?”
He made it sound like a personal attack, like everyone and everything meant him. I hadn’t even known he would be here.
“Only because my father’s going to lose the house! Otherwise I wouldn’t have come back at all. There’s nothing here for me,” I shouted. The pain shot up to a new level, and I knew I was too far gone for it to back down without a struggle, so I masked the agony with a glare.
“You’re never going to stop lying, are you?”
His voice cut sharp in my ears. “It’s the truth. You don’t have to believe it.”
“Fine,” he bit out. “That’s what you really want, just fine.”
And just like that, he walked away. I watched him disappear around the corner. The tears in my eyes weren’t only from the pain. I dug my phone out of my bag to check the time. Past midnight. The chances of getting a tow truck out on a Saturday night were nonexistent. There was nothing to do except walk back to my house.
I started in the direction of my house, concentrating on the act of walking without stumbling. The pain changed into a unique hell where every sensation, every movement of my body, just drew more attention back to the throbbing behind my eyes. I hadn’t had a full-blown migraine in months and stopped carrying my meds with me. Not one of my brightest ideas. I only made it halfway down the block before Ash’s hand landed lightly on my shoulder. I hadn’t heard him come up behind me.
“Wait,” he said. “I’ll give you a ride home. It’s not a good idea for you to walk home alone right now.”
I don�
�t know what was worse. The pain in my head from the migraine, or how flat and unemotional he sounded. The same tone he’d used through school to shut anyone out that he didn’t want to get too close and ask too many questions. As if I was an acquaintance and he was just being polite in offering a ride. The main street was deserted, and the stop lights switched over to flashing caution lights that clicked with each burst of yellow.
My stomach turned over, the nausea rising. All I could do was nod.
“I’m not parked far, come on,” he said.
His car was parked halfway down the block, near the café. A sleek silver sedan, it had been a gift from his parents when he graduated from high school with a 4.0 GPA. He accepted it for the same reason I took the money from my father. They owed us. He opened the door for me and I gingerly sat down. Unfortunately, I couldn’t fully appreciate sitting down on the wide leather bucket seat that didn’t have tears and springs poking me in the back like in my truck.
He got in and started the car. Frigid cold air blew from the vents. The Foo Fighters’ “The Pretender” blared from the stereo. Everything was suddenly too much to process. The damage to my truck, the shock of seeing his father, our argument, and the severe, unrelenting pain. Uncontrollable shaking took over.
“Are you all right?” Ash turned down the stereo.
“It’s nothing,” I mumbled. “Just a migraine.”
“You still have those?” Worry filtered through his detached tone. “Where’s your meds? You’re supposed to take them before it gets this bad.”
“At home.” I closed my eyes. “Can you just take me home, please?”
While he drove the short distance to my house, the car swayed smoothly underneath me with each turn. The car slowed as Ash pulled into my driveway. When he opened his door, the overhead light was unbearable through my closed eyelids. I hid my face in one hand and groped for the door handle with the other. My door opened, and then his strong arms slipped under my body.