Asher

by Jo Raven

  The kick to my kidneys makes me choke on a cry. I struggle to breathe around the pain.

  Jesus. What happened? Dad’s been sober for two months. Did he lose his job again?

  “Get up, pussy. Fight back.” The alcohol on his breath is so strong I smell it from where I lie on the carpet. Not sober anymore, that’s for sure. “Get on your feet and fight me.”

  I know I have to, if I want to survive. I try, but the room keeps spinning. Dad’s right hook is mean and something isn’t quite right with my head. I barely make it to my knees when he grabs me from my jacket and lifts me to my feet—only to slam his fist to my jaw again.

  This is bad. This is really bad. I blink my watering eyes, but my vision isn’t clearing. I clench my fists and punch back anyway.

  He laughs. “You’re a good for nothing. All I have left, and you’re not worth two cents. Worthless piece of shit.”

  I manage to land a punch to his arm, and he laughs again, clearly amused.

  “That’s all you got, boy?”

  I try to free myself from his hold and he lets go—only now I can’t stand straight. I stumble sideways until my shoulder meets the wall. I swallow bile.

  I see a dark blur coming at me and I raise my fists, protecting my already battered head. I fall back against the wall under the pummeling, and my knees buckle. I’m going down, but that doesn’t save me. Again he grabs me, again he lifts me to my feet.

  This time when he punches me, I black out.

  Chapter Five

  Audrey

  The apartment door closes with a soft click. I frown, trying to see over Tessa’s blond head. Where’s Ash?

  I’m still reeling from the kiss. Sweet and soft and reminding me how much I missed him.

  I wait until Tessa has finished taking off her coat and settles on the sofa next to me before I reply.

  “I never said I hated him,” I say. “It was difficult seeing him, that’s all. But I’m better now. He was awesome tonight. Made me feel real bad for the way I’ve been behaving toward him.”

  He saved me. He held me. I want to tell Tessa all these things, but not now, with Ash still here.

  “I told you so,” Tessa says smugly and I decide to let her gloat.

  “Where is he?” I try again to see past my friend’s happy face. He’s still here, isn’t he? Has he gone to the bathroom?

  She twists around. “He was right there.”

  But he isn’t anymore.

  The realization sinks in. He left. I heard the door but didn’t think... He left without saying goodbye. Shutting me out once more.

  Clamping down on the disappointment, I let out a breath. What did I think would happen? I’ve treated him like he doesn’t exist. Correction: I treated him like dirt the two times I saw him, or like the plague. I avoided him, ran away from him. He helped me tonight, saved me. He did his part like any good person would.

  A good person. Under that bad boy persona is a good guy. Zane was right. As for leaving... Can I blame him? For this and the last time, so long ago?

  Ah yeah. Deep inside I still can. I saw him kiss many other girls over the years, but he never wanted to try again with me, and that stung.

  But I can’t deny the truth anymore: I’m still in love with Ash.

  Shit.

  “How come you’re here?” I clasp Tessa’s hand in mine and try not to think how much her timing sucks. “I thought Mondays you studied Spanish with Erin.”

  Erin’s a sophomore. I have a vague impression she should be a junior by now, because I’m pretty sure she’s two years older than me, but I can’t swear on it. She’s helping Tessa out with some courses. They’re good friends, apparently. I didn’t know that before moving back to Madison.

  “Yeah well, Erin couldn’t make it today, and you do know your apartment is on my way home, right? You just never invite me over anymore.” She makes a face at me, scrunching up her nose and sticking out her tongue.

  It takes the sting off her words. And she’s right. I hang my head. “Sorry.”

  “You know, all that talk about boys... I never meant to pressure you.” She grips my hand hard and sincerity shines in her blue eyes. “Often—okay, most of the time—I open my big mouth and spew whatever’s on my mind. I know this is all too much, the new place, the college... I’ve been here all my life and I have trouble imagining how hard it must be. And I want to be there for you.”

  I smile, grateful. “I’m sorry I’m such a pain in the butt. I’ll try to be more sociable.”

  “That’s my girl. I’ll go make us some hot cocoa.”

  I watch her go, and glance involuntarily at the door through which Ash vanished once more. The whole evening feels surreal. I wonder if I’ve dreamed it, but my foot throbs and I can still smell Ash, the light musk of his skin, the citrusy scent of his shampoo. He’d been here. He’d really been here.

  And he left, because...

  A terrible suspicion sneaks into my head. What if he overheard what Tessa said about me hating him? Tessa said it teasingly, but how would Ash know that?

  The thought bothers me as Tessa returns with the steaming mugs and takes her seat beside me.

  “So spill,” she chirps. “What happened to your ankle and how did Ash find you?”

  I hesitate. It’s all still fresh and raw and his departure stings. “I will. But I have an essay to write. If you could just bring me my books and my laptop here on the sofa, then I won’t have to turn my assignment in late.”

  Tessa pouts. “Audrey Celine Morrison, are you serious? Now that I’m here and you’re stranded, you think I’ll let you off the hook? I need details, woman, about the encounter with hot and troublesome. Come on.”

  Hot. Yeah, the boy’s hot, and he’s trouble all right, I can’t deny it any longer. “Okay, fine.”

  So I tell Tessa what happened on campus. She goes from grinning to horrified, her eyes round like coins. “Crap, Audrey. I’m buying you a pepper spray first thing tomorrow. Did you let campus security know about the attack?”

  I shake my head. It didn’t even cross my mind.

  “Do that. And don’t you ever walk through the campus alone at night.”

  I swear I won’t. I’d be too scared to do so after tonight anyway. There won’t always be someone—Ash—to save me.

  I keep seeing how he dealt with my attackers, the power in his body, the controlled coiling and uncoiling of muscles, the smooth movements. The way he clutched me to his chest afterward.

  Stop it. I struggle to focus on other matters.

  “You should call him,” Tessa says, and it takes me a moment to figure out who she means.

  “Ash?”

  “Who else, dummy?”

  I shake my head but I’m considering it. Whatever made him leave without a word, I should make sure he knows... What? That I don’t hate him?

  I don’t, do I?

  I never have, in fact. I was hurt by his rejection and then horrified that his dad was the one to destroy my life. Because I care for Ash.

  Wow. Talk about a wake up call.

  “Send me his number,” I say. “I may call him.”

  She actually squeals and fishes her cell out of her tiny purse. “Coming your way right now.”

  “I said I may call him. May. Calm down.”

  She slides her fingertips on the touch screen of her phone, sending me the number. My phone beeps inside my bag as it receives the message. “Just talk to him, all right? I think...”

  “You think what?”

  “That he’s been in pain.”

  “Melodramatic much?” I bend over and shift the frozen pea bag on my ankle. “He’s a man. They don’t really do feelings.”

  Tess rolls her eyes. “Not every boy is an asshole, you know. Just because you dated the worst...”

  I give her shoulder a little shove. “Okay, fine, let’s be serious. He’s in pain. Sure.”

  She chews on her lower lip, those baby blues turning thoughtful. “You really don’t know much abo
ut Ash, do you?”

  I open my mouth to retort, to say, sure I do—after all, we were neighbors for years, as well as friends and classmates.

  But the truth is, Tess is right yet again. I barely know Ash anymore. I hardly remember Ash’s older brother, Tyler. Or his mother. I know practically nothing about them. About him. All I remember is that he was trouble at school and in the neighborhood, but I have no idea about his personal life.

  Come on, Audrey, think. I can’t appear so clueless. Tessa will never let me live it down.

  “I remember hearing his mother was sick at some point.” I try to recall more. When had that been? I guess after he kissed me and then started getting into fights, missing classes and ignoring me. By then I’d made a point of not asking about him and ignoring any news I heard.

  Yeah, I’d been upset.

  “She died. Two years ago. Leukemia.”

  I gape. Don’t know what to say. “Oh god. That’s awful. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t Dylan tell me?”

  “Seriously?” Tessa rolls her eyes. “You forbade either of us to even speak Ash’s name, remember?”

  Oh dear god. I cover my eyes with my hands as if that would make me disappear. I wish the earth would swallow me.

  “Hey.” Tessa gently lowers my hands. “It’s okay, girl. You were depressed. You needed time. We get that. Don’t blame yourself.”

  But it’s not okay.

  “There’s more,” Tessa says, and I tense.

  “More?”

  “His father drinks. Always has. But after Ash’s mom got sick and later died, it got worse. And then came the accident, and...” Tessa shrugs, her face sad. “Things didn’t get any better.”

  I shiver. I remember Ash’s dad clearly. A huge guy with a beard, built like a tank, his nose crooked from having been broken too many times in the ring. A famous ex boxer. A brooding, quiet man. Ash never talked about him.

  His dad should be rotting in prison, but isn’t, because of extenuating circumstances. I don’t know what they are. So unfair.

  “Think about calling Ash, okay? Promise me?” Tessa takes a sip of her cocoa, looking as serious as I’ve ever seen her. “At least so he knows you don’t blame him for the accident. Zane says he’s been blaming himself enough.”

  He has? Holy crap. Now I feel like ten kinds of a bitch. “I’ll think about it. Seriously.”

  She gets up and lifts my bag onto the couch next to me, then brings me my books and my laptop. “Good. Now do your homework, rest, and I’ll pick you up in the morning, okay?”

  I nod. So much to think about.

  But long after Tessa leaves, having made me promise to go out that Saturday night and not to shut her out again, I stare at my cell, undecided.

  Should I call Ash? What am I going to say?

  Hey, you left without saying goodbye.

  Christ. It sounds like a come-on line.

  Hey, was it something Tessa said? She was kidding, you know?

  Yeah, right.

  I might have treated you like crap, but I don’t really hate you. Like, not anymore. Or ever. Not sure.

  By the way, sorry your mom died.

  Oh god. How lame and horrible.

  I put my cell down and check my ankle. It hasn’t swollen much. The ice pack made a difference, and Ash was probably right, it isn’t so bad.

  Ash...

  I power up my laptop, open my essay, try to concentrate. I was rolling the ideas for my paper over and over in my mind when I was attacked, but now all I have to show for it is a big blank.

  I’m tired. It’s getting late. Truth be told, I’m still shaken. I’ve never been attacked before, and the way those guys pawed at me...

  So different from the way Ash held me, and touched me. As if I’m the most precious thing in the world.

  The time on my cell reads eleven. What if Ash is already asleep?

  Good try, Audrey.

  I open Tessa’s text message with his number and hit ‘call.’

  And wait as the phone rings, and rings, and rings, until it goes to voice mail.

  I disconnect without leaving a message.

  Ash probably doesn’t want to talk to me tonight. And I can understand why. I’ll try again tomorrow.

  ***

  That night I dream. The nightmare starts as usual. I’m in the car with Dad and we are driving down an empty street. It’s dark. A light drizzle falls. The windows of the car are fogged.

  Dad is focused on driving, pushing his wire-framed glasses up his nose from time to time. His short, dark hair is swept to the side. He always has that distracted air about him, even when he’s concentrated. He has a smudge of ink on his cheek. All his work as an architect is done on a computer, but he loves doodling on paper.

  And I stare at him, aware I’m lucky to be seeing him, and not knowing why.

  “I missed you,” I say. “It’s been a while.”

  “I live far away now,” he replies, his mouth twisting. “Takes me longer to come down here.”

  I frown. I know he’s right but can’t remember why he lives so far from me now. “You can drive.”

  “Cars don’t cross over,” he says, and again that makes sense somehow, though the details escape me.

  “Glad you made it.” I settle back in my seat. Unease stirs in my stomach and the urge to throw the door open and run is too strong.

  But I can’t leave him. Not when he’s come so far to see me.

  I open my mouth to ask how he’s doing, when I realize he isn’t my dad. Not anymore. His dark hair is tousled, and the glasses are gone. I know those pale blue eyes.

  Ash.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I say.

  “On the contrary,” he says. “I’m the one who should be here.”

  “This isn’t your place.”

  “This has always been my place.” His expression is grim. “It’s what I deserve.”

  I put my hand on the wheel. “No. You should get out while you still can.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes focused ahead. “For me it’s too late.”

  “No. Ash. Get out before—”

  Then comes the crash, the noise, the pain. I struggle, I thrash, I try to escape. It never works.

  But I jerk awake and sit up in bed, twisted in my sheets and covers. God. My chest aches and sourness rises in my throat. I swallowed convulsively.

  I’m okay. It’s just a nightmare.

  At least some of it. My fingers search for the scar on thigh where metal sliced into my flesh, then move up to my lower belly, where they operated to fix the bleeding in my liver and kidney.

  You’re fine, I tell myself. It’s over. You survived. You’re alive.

  But the pressure in my chest won’t let up and I struggle to breathe through it. I haven’t had a panic attack in quite some time.

  My fingers curl against the biggest scar, the one on my leg. Why did I dream of Ash? And those things he said in the dream...

  Dread sours my mouth again. I have such a bad feeling. I’m not one to put stock in premonitions, but suddenly I fear for Ash. I need to make sure he’s alive, that he’s fine.

  Shit.

  I fumble for my cell on my nightstand and hit call on his number.

  Like before, it rings and rings. He never picks up.

  I glance at the time. Three in the morning. Of course he doesn’t pick up. He’s asleep. He probably turned the sound off.

  The dread persists, slicking my palms. It’s the nightmare, I tell myself. The memories. The attack on campus. Maybe also the things Tessa said earlier, about Ash blaming himself.

  Well, all he has to do is pick up the frigging phone and I’m ready to pour my heart out, tell him I don’t blame him. That I really, really like him, even though I’ve been giving him other signals. That I’ve missed him more than I thought possible, and I want...

  I clench my fingers around the cell. I’m not sure what I want. Right now, I just wish for the horrible fear to go away and leave me in peace.
/>
  I try calling Ash one more time. Same result.

  Sighing, I lie back down and try to get some sleep.

  ***

  Next day, I limp out of the building to find Tessa’s Jeep parked outside.

  Predictably her first words as I climb into her car, before I even close the door, are, “Did you call him?”

  I roll my eyes. “My ankle still hurts, thanks for asking, Tess.”

  “Well, did you?”

  “Yeah,” I grumble. “He didn’t pick up.”

  Tessa frowns. “That’s odd.”

  “Is it?” I belt myself in, stretch my throbbing leg. “We barely know each other.”

  “But you used to.”

  “That was too long ago. Besides, I think he heard you say I hate him. I can understand if he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

  “I don’t think he’d believe that.” Her frown deepens as she sets off toward the campus. “Would he?”

  “You know him better than I do,” I say, my chest tight, because the admission hurts.

  “Not sure about that. In any case, the Ash I know, as much as I do, wouldn’t avoid your phone calls.”

  “Well, he has.”

  Now she looks worried, as if she was hoping I’d say I was lying and now she realizes I’m not. “That’s really weird.” She sighs. “You picked a guy with quite a lot of baggage.”

  “Picked? I didn’t pick him.” She doesn’t know about the kiss, or my feelings. And with Ash avoiding me, it’s better that way.

  “But you’ve wanted him for so long. I often wished you’d fallen in love with a normal, happy boy.”

  “I’m not in love with Ash.”

  My words sound hollow in my ears. Because I know I am. Have been all along.

  And now I’ve been rejected once again. I’m not sure I can take it.

  The nightmare still haunts me, though, and Tessa seems so concerned about Ash... It’s all so confusing. He appeared like a knight in shining armor, saved me, kissed me—then he’s gone once more, without a word of explanation about the past, about the fact he tossed me aside and ignored me those years in high school.