Drake and Ashley: The Complete Story

by Noelle Stevens

  Admittedly, I’m ready to get back on track with my life, although a part of me wishes she would have agreed to stay at my cabin until her car’s fixed. Why pay for a motel when she can stay at my place for free?

  Is that the reason you offered? To help her financially? Or is there more going on? Like your desire to spend more time with her?

  I shake my head.

  I need to head north today. I have work to do, meetings to attend. I can’t stay here any longer.

  Confused, I force my mind away from Ashley and on to work.

  ASHLEY

  I glance at the tow truck driver as we approach town. Besides telling me his name is Braden, he hasn’t said anything. I try not to think about how much the repairs to my car are going to cost as I only have a few hundred dollars to my name and no job prospects. I haven’t even reached my destination and already I’m doubting my decision to move from Vegas.

  Braden pulls up to a motel, and inwardly I cringe. The place looks rundown, but at least it should be cheap.

  “Here we are,” he says.

  “Thanks for the ride.”

  He hands me a card. “This is the place I’m taking your car. They’ll be open in the morning.”

  I glance at the card before putting it in my purse. “Okay.”

  He helps me get my luggage out of my trunk, but after leaving it on the ground outside the office door, he drives off with a wave.

  Halfheartedly, I wave back, feeling very alone. I go into the office and see an attractive red-headed woman sitting behind the counter, watching a TV mounted in the corner of the room.

  “Hi there,” she says brightly, which is so opposite the cold weather and the beat-up look of the motel that it almost startles me.

  “Hi.” I walk over to her and rest my arms on the counter.

  “What can I help you with?”

  “I need a room.”

  “Just a single?”

  I nod.

  “How many nights, hon?”

  “I’m not sure yet. My car’s getting fixed and I don’t know how long it will take.”

  “Okay. Well, lucky for you we have plenty of rooms available.”

  Somehow I’m not surprised by this. “How much is it?”

  “Forty-five dollars a night.”

  At least I can afford a couple of nights. The cost of my car repair is still unknown, but I’m sure it will be more than I can afford anyway, so I don’t factor that into my budget. I briefly consider calling my parents, but I know money is tight and I don’t want to be a burden to them. Then I remember a tactic I’ve seen my dad use on many occasions when he’s buying things. “Can you do any better?”

  She scowls for a moment, then pushes a smile onto her face. “We’re the cheapest place in town.” She practically cackles. “Actually, we’re the only place in town, so you can take it or leave it, sweet pea.”

  I sigh. “I’ll take it.”

  “You’ll need to pay for the first night up front.”

  I dig my wallet out of my purse and reluctantly count out forty-five dollars. After laying it on the counter, I accept a keycard from the woman, then head to the room she assigns me. I drag my luggage to my room, and it takes me two trips to get all of my stuff inside, but once I’m done, I sink onto the bed and try to ignore the unpleasant odor that permeates the room.

  Maybe I should have taken Drake up on his offer to stay at his place.

  I shake my head, irritated with myself that I’m ready to give up so soon. I can do this. I can take care of myself and survive less-than-perfect scenarios.

  I open my luggage and put on some clean clothes, enjoying the feel of them after wearing the same thing for two days, then I turn on the TV and flip through the channels. There’s nothing worth watching so I decide to call my parents. When I turn on my phone I’m happy to see that there is service, and after a brief conversation, my parents are convinced I’m alive and well. After I talk to them, I call my soon-to-be roommate, Emily.

  “Hey, Em,” I say.

  “Hi, Ash. Are you on your way?”

  “Actually, I had a little car trouble. But I’m handling it.”

  “Okay. So when do you think you’ll get here?”

  “I’m in some Podunk town waiting for my car to be fixed. As soon as it’s done, I’ll be on my way, so I should be there in a few days.” I picture Drake and consider telling her about him, but change my mind. I don’t want her to scold me for being stupid about men again. After all, she’s told me over and over to be careful who I fall for. Instead we talk about other things for a while, then we hang up.

  As I stare at the TV, my mind wanders to the night before when Drake and I were watching Lord of the Rings, and I wonder if he’d planned to seduce me from the start. As much as I enjoyed our encounter, I’m still mad at myself for falling for his ploy. Especially after the way he seemed so ready to shove me out the door of his house this morning. He got what he wanted, then he wanted me gone. So typical.

  And then he had the nerve to suggest I would be better off staying with him while my car was being repaired rather than being on my own. Why would he even want me to? The man is beyond confusing. Then I picture his face and yearn to be with him even as I breathe in the stink of this motel room.

  But I know it’s my own fault that I’m so devastated now. If I hadn’t convinced myself that there could be a future between us, I wouldn’t have given in to my body’s desires.

  Sighing in frustration, I turn off the TV and pace the room, stopping next to the window. I gaze outside and see a bar and grill across the street. It’s just approaching lunchtime, and I realize I’m hungry.

  Maybe they have some pretzels I can eat. Free pretzels.

  I pick up my purse and head over there.

  Twenty-One

  ASHLEY

  When I walk in I see that I’m the only customer, so I walk to the counter and slide onto a barstool. A man behind the counter comes over and asks what he can get me. It’s a little early for a drink, so I ask for a diet Coke.

  He turns away to fix my drink and I look around for a bowl of pretzels or nuts, but don’t see anything. “Do you have any pretzels?” I ask.

  He puts a small bowl on the counter in front of me, then sets my Coke on a napkin.

  “Thanks.” I dig in, gorging myself on pretzels and Coke until my hunger is gone. I pay for my drink, then slowly walk back to the motel, pleased that I’ve spent less than three dollars.

  Back in my room, I count my money, removing enough to pay for the next night at the motel, and see I have just over three hundred dollars. Besides gas to get to Reno, my only other expense is food. I know I can’t live on Coke and pretzels for the next two days—or maybe I can, who knows?—so eventually I’ll need to buy food. And then there’s the cost of the car repair to consider. I put the money back in my wallet.

  Discouraged, I examine the bed for stains and bugs, but not seeing any, I stretch out and close my eyes. I sleep for most of the afternoon, and when my stomach starts to rumble, I head back to the bar and grill across the street.

  This time there are a few other customers, but when I ask for the Coke and pretzels again, the man only looks at me oddly for a moment before giving me what I’ve asked for.

  “Thanks,” I say as I begin eating my dinner.

  “You can’t live on that,” a man says as he slides onto the barstool next to mine.

  I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, but don’t reply. I’m not looking to have a conversation with a stranger. Especially one who reeks of alcohol and body odor.

  “You’re too skinny already,” he continues, evidently not noticing that I’m ignoring him.

  I pick up my Coke and the bowl of pretzels and move down two spaces. He moves as well. I sigh, then try to eat faster, wanting to get out of there as soon as I can.

  “Would you like me to buy you some food?” he asks.

  Is my desperation so obvious? “I’m not hungry,” I lie.

  He l
aughs. “Coulda fooled me, the way you was goin’ down on those pretzels.”

  The man behind the counter places a large, juicy hamburger in front of my neighbor. The lovely smell wafts toward my nose, and my mouth waters with a powerful craving.

  The man slides the plate in front of me. “Go ahead, honey. I can get another.”

  I stare at the delectable meal and know I really should add protein to my diet, but there’s no way I’m going to allow this creepy man to buy it for me. “I can buy my own,” I say, then I look at the man behind the counter and order a burger. I know it will take some of my precious monetary reserves, but a girl’s gotta eat.

  The man next to me grins, then he looks me up and down. “I knew you wanted one.”

  A shiver of revulsion courses through me, but I push it aside as I wait for my burger to cook. When it arrives a short time later, I pay for it then carry it to a table and begin eating. Even though the man has stayed at the counter, I can feel his eyes on me. Trying to ignore him, I eat as fast as I can without making myself look like a pig.

  The moment I’m done, I stand and toss my purse onto my shoulder, then hurry towards the door. As I push it open, I glance behind me and see the man staring at me. A chill of fear crawls up my spine. My motel is right across the street, and if he decides to look out the window he’ll see exactly where I’m staying.

  As a precaution, I walk past the motel and down the street, then around the corner. My breath comes out in frosty clouds as I make my way around the block and I’m eager to get back into my warm motel room.

  A moment later I end up back at the side of the motel, but before I reveal myself, I peer toward the bar and grill to see if the man’s watching me. The windows on the bar and grill are tinted, so I have no idea if he’s there. I can only hope he’s focused on his next drink by now.

  “This is ridiculous,” I mutter, then I walk to my room and let myself in. I lock the deadbolt, then go to the window and stare at the bar and grill for several minutes. It’s still light out, and I watch the bar and grill long enough to convince myself that the man didn’t follow me.

  Convincing myself that the man’s lost interest, I climb onto the bed and lean against the pillows, then turn on the TV and watch a moderately interesting reality show.

  Two hours pass, and when I glance toward the window I realize it’s gotten dark. I close the curtains, then settle back on the bed, but ten minutes later I’m startled by a loud knock at my door. My heart races as I creep toward the door and peer out the peephole.

  It’s the man from the bar. He’s found me.

  Twenty-Two

  ASHLEY

  “Crap,” I whisper. I’m frozen in place, afraid if I make any noise, he’ll know I’m there.

  “I know you’re in there, honey,” he calls through the door, destroying the illusion of invisibility. “I saw you through the window before.” His voice is slurred.

  I close my eyes and slowly shake my head, furious at myself for not yanking the curtains closed when I first got back to my room. “What do you want?” I call back.

  The man laughs. “I want to have a little fun, darlin’. And I think you do too.”

  Freaked out by his pronouncement, my heart races and my eyes go wide. “Get out of here or I’ll call the police.” My voice shakes a bit, neutralizing any confidence my words might have shown.

  “Come on now, sweet thing,” he calls through the door. “Open up.”

  Adrenaline slams through my veins. “No way.”

  The doorknob rattles as he tries to turn it. “Open the door,” he shouts. The door shakes as he throws his body against it.

  I fall back several steps, my eyes round and my mind a blank. He’s going to get in. Then my mind clears and I dig my cell phone out of my purse. I dial 911 and explain what’s happening. The woman assures me that the police will be there soon, but I want them there now.

  The man continues his barrage against the door and I’m terrified that it won’t be able to take the abuse much longer. I strain my ears for any hint of sirens, but the only sound I hear is the door rattling in its frame.

  The woman on the phone is asking me questions, but I’m having a hard time concentrating as I stare at the door, which seems to bow inward. “When will the police get here?” I shout frantically into the phone.

  “They’re on their way, ma’am. They should be there any minute.”

  The door bursts inward. He’s gotten in. I scream and drop the phone, my hands suddenly slick with sweat. “Get out! Get out!” I scream as I back up, but the man rushes towards me and grabs one of my arms.

  “I’ve gotcha now.” His breath reeks.

  I try to pull out of his grip, but he’s stronger than he looks. I use my free hand to punch him but that only enrages him. I want to nail him in the groin, but he’s turned away enough that I can’t access that part of his body.

  “Now the fun begins,” he says with a grin.

  “Let me go,” I scream as I try to yank my arm out of his hand.

  “Not likely.”

  He pushes me backwards onto the bed and falls on top of me, pinning me. His weight makes it hard for me to breathe, but I do my best to fight him off. He leans his face toward mine in an attempt to kiss me, and I nearly gag, but my utter terror keeps me focused. I turn my head away and his lips brush my cheek. He grabs my chin and forces my head to turn so that we’re face to face, then he leans towards me again. I squeeze my eyes and mouth closed, bracing myself for what is about to follow, but his lips never touch mine, and without warning his weight vanishes from my body.

  My eyes fly open and it takes me a moment to comprehend what is happening. My attacker is on the floor and another man is on top of him, pummeling him. I realize I’m no longer in danger and focus on what is happening in front of me. That’s when I recognize the man who saved me. “Drake,” I whisper as tears of relief flood my eyes.

  Sirens wail in the distance and within moments two police officers spill into the room. When they pull Drake off of my attacker, I jump to my feet and point to the man from the bar. “It’s him,” I say. “He’s the one who broke in.”

  The police officers cuff the bloodied man and drag him out to their car.

  “Are you okay?” Drake asks as he comes over to me.

  In shock over the attack, I’m speechless, and just stare at him like he’s an apparition.

  Why is he here? How did he find me?

  “Ashley.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, then gently strokes my face. “Are you okay?”

  Trying to regain my equilibrium, I close my eyes and breathe slowly, then open them and gaze at Drake’s face. I nod.

  “Ma’am,” one of the officer says from the doorway.

  I turn to him.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  I glance at Drake, then look at the officer. “That man was at the bar and grill across the street.” I gesture in the general direction of the restaurant. “He came on to me there and I guess he saw where I was staying.” I pause, swallowing the bile that begins to rise in my throat. “He . . . he wanted me to let him in. I said no, but he . . . he forced his way in anyway.”

  The officer looks at Drake. “And you, sir? What is your involvement?”

  Drake clears his throat. “I guess I showed up at the right time. I saw him on top of her and I pulled him off.”

  The officer makes notes on a small notepad, gets my number, then says he’ll be in touch if he needs anything else. A moment later Drake and I are alone.

  Twenty-Three

  DRAKE

  “Now will you come stay at my house?” I ask, furious about what almost happened, but beyond relieved that I got here just in the nick of time. I can see how shaken Ashley is and I want to wrap my arms around her, but she doesn’t seem particularly receptive to being touched just then.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks. “How did you find me?”

  I sigh, not wanting to explain that I couldn’t stay away, that
I had to make sure she was okay. “It wasn’t hard to find you.” I grin. “This is the only motel in town.”

  She nods. “Okay. But why are you here?”

  “Can’t a man come to town once in a while?”

  She stares at me with a look that says that doesn’t explain it and you know it.

  I run my fingers through my hair and decide to come clean. “All right. The truth is, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” I scowl as I think about the scene I found when I arrived. “Looks like it’s a good thing I came.” My eyes narrow. “That’s twice now that I’ve saved you.”

  And I’m not taking the chance that something like that will happen again.

  ASHLEY

  Even though that might be technically true, I frown, not liking that he’s seen me at my weakest so many times. Especially after the way he rejected me just that morning, practically pushing me out of his house. “The police were on their way.”

  He laughs. “So you were doing fine when I arrived? Is that it?”

  I don’t want to think about what would have happened if he and the police hadn’t gotten there when they did, so I don’t answer, but instead turn to look at the broken-in door. “I need to move to a different room.”

  “You are not staying here.”

  I spin around, my nerves stretched tight. “Who the hell do you think you are? You can’t tell me what to do.” My comment is fueled by fear and helplessness and it comes out sharper than I’d meant it to.

  He stares at me impassively. “You’re coming with me, even if that means I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out.”

  At the look on his face—determination, stubbornness, barely controlled fury—I have no doubt that he’d do it, and my resolve weakens. To be honest, I’m afraid to stay there by myself. Clearly, anyone can force their way in. I don’t feel safe at all.