by Jo Raven
Silence stretches.
“You’re running away again,” she whispers.
Her words strike like knives. “I’m not running.”
“You sound like you’ve given up the fight.”
“What do you know about fighting?” Anger makes me see red. “What have you ever had to really fight for, with blood and pain? What do you know about any of it?”
She steps back, her eyes round. “Jesus, Ash. I just want to help you.”
“How can you help me? Shit.” Anger burns inside me, although I realize it’s not her fault my situation is so bad. “Just forget it.”
“How do you expect me to understand,” she says, “when you won’t talk about it?”
“You want me to talk about it?” My heart pounds. “Really? How about I often wished it was my father who’d died in the accident and not yours? How about telling you how lucky you are. That it’s better to have a good father who’s dead rather than a bad one forever?”
Her face pales. “Stop.”
“Why?” Anger sizzles through me. “Isn’t this what you wanted to hear?”
“That I should be thankful my dad’s dead?” She stumbles on the last word and the pain in her voice rips me up like a blade. “Do you have any idea how much I loved him? How empty my life is without him?”
“Can’t say I do.”
She hisses, her eyes wet. “How can you say that?”
“You asked, Auds.” I guess now is the point where she leaves, slamming the door behind her, as she should. My voice drops to a whisper as the anger drains out of me. “You said you wanted to understand. So understand this: I can’t imagine what you had with your dad, because I don’t have it with mine. Never have. All I know is, you have good memories. And that’s something.”
Tears roll down her cheeks and I want to slam my fists into the wall and yell out my frustration. She can’t understand me.
But she hasn’t run away, either. I suck in a deep breath, then I reach out and pull her to me.
“I’m sorry.” I tuck her head under my chin and just hold onto her as small shudders go through her body. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
After a while, she draws back enough to look up at me. “It’s okay. I think...” She swallows hard. “We have some catching up to do. Why don’t you come over to my place tomorrow? I’ll cook and we’ll figure it out.”
I can only stare at her. She really wants to help me, doesn’t she? Even after the horrible things I said.
Her lips are red, well kissed, but I want to kiss her again. I desperately want to sink into her and forget about the world and all its problems. My lips brush over hers until her lashes flutter.
“You have me, Ash,” she whispers. “Not only Zane. For anything you need. I want to be here for you, too. Please, say you’ll come by tomorrow.”
I nod. How can I refuse someone so brave?
A smile breaks over her face, lighting up her eyes. “See you tomorrow, then.”
I just stand there as she walks out of Zane’s apartment. Fuck. What the hell am I doing? And why can’t I stop?
***
I sleep badly, nightmares waking me up at the crack of dawn. I spend the morning thinking, turning my situation over and over again in my mind. It doesn’t change. I’ll either join the fight club or find myself on the streets.
Why can’t I see another choice?
Zane can’t help me. Can Audrey help me, as she said? Maybe she has an idea of where I can stay until I get a legal job?
Hope sparks inside me, making me restless. I’m expected tonight at The Bulldog where I’ll have to convince the owners to let me fight. Should I not go? Should I trust Audrey to help?
How can she? She lives in an entirely different world. Sheltered. Protected.
But maybe that’s the whole idea. She knows people, good people—unlike me. Perhaps she knows someone else who might help me.
Fucking hope. It burns inside me, twisting my stomach and tensing me up.
Somewhere around the time I shower and pull on a shirt, I’ve decided two things:
I want to talk to Audrey before I go through with my decision. She deserves to know more about me, and maybe she does have an idea on how to help me out of this impasse.
And second, I’m going to kiss her, and touch her, and taste her and bury myself in her until she can’t walk straight.
Fuck me, the thought makes me so hard I could come in my pants any second now.
A search of Zane’s apartment reveals his electric hair trimmers and I spend some time in front of the bathroom mirror, cutting my hair until it’s but a millimeter long at the sides and longer on top. Then I filch some of Zane’s gels—he has an impressive collection of them, necessary for his gravity-defying Mohawk—and spike the top.
Fight club or not, I want this day to be a turning point. Besides, the notion of talking to Audrey, laying out my problems and asking for her help has my gut in twists just as bad as the idea of fighting.
But a decision has to be made. Zane and Erin will be back in a day or two, and I’ll have to go. I’ll be back on the streets if I don’t find a solution.
I pull on my jeans, a black sweater, boots, and my jacket. Dressed in clean clothes—my clothes, for a change—with my cell and wallet in my pocket, I feel as close to normal as I have in weeks. I feel human.
I’m out the door before I change my mind, and I find myself standing outside Audrey’s apartment a little after midday.
I shift from foot to foot; wipe my hands down my jeans. Release a long breath. Try my best to look relaxed and cool as I ring the bell.
The door doesn’t open immediately. In fact, for a long while I hear nothing and I frown, wondering if I misunderstood what Audrey said—or if she changed her mind.
Dammit. My fault. I touched her, kissed her, and then drove her away. Serves me right. I should’ve opened up to her from the start, and instead I shouted at her, made her feel bad, and let her go.
I knock on the door. “Auds?”
Turning to go, I berate myself. I practically shoved her away—and for what? To get my head straight. Right. Was it worth it? I don’t feel any less confused than I was last night.
The door behind me opens with a whine. “Ash!”
I turn back, smiling in spite of myself. “Auds.” She’s there, looking cute with her long red hair falling messily around her face. I reach for her, but she takes a step back.
Not good.
“I like your new haircut.” Her lips pull in a faint smile, mirroring mine, but there’s a tension about her shoulders. “Come in.”
Struggling to ignore the unease, I step into the apartment. “Are you sure? I can go.”
“No.” She grabs my hand and draws me into the living room. “Don’t be stupid. Sit down.”
“Okay.” I do as instructed, sitting on the sofa and she takes a seat beside me.
Something’s off. The back of my neck prickles. I lean forward, letting my hands hang between my legs, and stare at her, trying to put my finger on the source of my unease.
A fucking mistake. She’s gorgeous, more than ever, in her drawstring pants and long sweater, her pretty feet bare. My brain blanks out and I gape, my jaw hanging loose. She isn’t wearing a bra, I’m sure of it. I can see the outline of her nipples through the fabric, and I’m getting hard. Fuck.
“Ash?”
I lick my dry lips. “You said... Yesterday you said you wanted to know more about me. That maybe you can help me. I—”
“Audrey?” A woman’s voice comes from the hallway behind me, startling the crap out of me. “Who’s there?”
“Just a friend, Mom.” Audrey rolls her eyes.
The reason for the general disquiet is now clear. “Your mom’s here?”
“Yeah. She wasn’t supposed to come, but decided to drop in unannounced.”
“Okay.” I straighten where I sit. “You must be happy to have her around.”
I haven’t seen Audrey’s mom in
many years, but she always seemed like a nice lady.
Audrey ducks her head. “Sure. I missed her.”
Her reply leaves me frowning. She doesn’t sound as excited as I expected her to be. “You get along fine, don’t you?”
“Oh yeah.”
Good. It’s none of my business anyway. Not all parents are like my dad. I need to remember that.
I lean toward Audrey again and brush red curls out of her face. “Want me to come another time?”
She sighs. “I think that’d be—”
“Audrey.” Her mom stands at the door of the room, squinting at me. “Who’s your friend?”
She hasn’t recognized me. Not sure how I feel about that, I stand up and stick out my hand. “Asher Devlin, ma’am. We used to be neighbors. I don’t know if you remember—”
“You.” Audrey’s mom takes a step back, the blood draining from her face. “Your father... What are you doing here?”
My stomach drops. I don’t know what to say. I’ve let my defenses down because Audrey confessed she doesn’t blame me for this. I never thought how her mom must feel about me—and now I know.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Morrison, I meant no disrespect—”
“Get out.” Audrey’s mom points a trembling finger at me. “Get away from my daughter.”
“Mom!” Audrey stands behind me, fists clenched at her sides. “Stop it.”
“You stop it, Audie. He’s the son of your father’s killer.”
“And he’s my friend.”
In my shock, I let her step in front of me. I reach for her arm. “Auds...”
But Audrey’s on a roll. “You always say to forgive people and move on, and besides, it wasn’t his fault.”
“That’s different. Nothing against the boy, but dating my only daughter? My baby girl? No.”
Shit.
“We’re not dating,” Audrey says, glancing back at me, her eyes uncertain.
Not dating. Right. We haven’t talked about that. We made out, started talking. And now...
“I’ll go,” I say.
“Damn right you will,” Audrey’s mom says.
Audrey opens her mouth and for a second I think she’ll stop me, that she’ll tell her mother to shut up.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she says, “Ash, I think you’d better go.”
Yeah.
I shrug and leave, letting the door slam behind me. Fuck hope. Fuck believing in something better. I never learn, do I? Well, I’ll be busy tonight.
Looks like I have a fight to prepare for, after all.
Chapter Thirteen
Audrey
Seeing Ash leave, his body hunched over as if in pain, threatens to breaks my heart. He came to talk to me, he made the effort, found the trust, and all I can do is watch him go. I want to stop him, but I have to hash this out with my mom first.
I walk into the kitchenette to face her. “Mom, how could you say those things to him?” The same things I told him. The realization stings. “You were harsh.”
My mom sighs. “I know, but seriously, Audie, what were you thinking? Of all boys, why him?”
“Ash is a great guy.”
“Great guy? You told me he kept getting into fights. Did he even finish high school? Besides, you told me you couldn’t stand him.”
Oh god, I really did say all those things. “That was then. This is now.”
She looks at me hard. “You can do so much better than him.”
“Much better? What am I, a princess?” I huff. “He’s been nice to me.”
“His father...” Her voice breaks, and my chest tightens.
“I know. But that’s his dad, not Ash.”
“Audie...” Her voice softens. “Apples don’t fall far from the tree.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anger is building inside me. I understand why she’s so angry with Ash—hell, I was, too. But I’ll make her see how wrong she is, like Ash has done with me.
“You should stay away from him. His father’s a drunk and a violent man, and so is Asher.”
“They’re not the same,” I say. “You can’t judge him by what his father did.”
“God, girl.” She leans against the counter. “Asher’s father had to stop boxing because he almost killed a man once, and it’s no secret he drinks. As for Asher, don’t you remember how he got suspended from school all the time, how he kept getting into fights? He walked around bruised on most days, and his brother wasn’t any better.”
“Ash isn’t violent.” He’s so gentle with me, always concerned he might hurt me. God, it’s all I can do not to run after him. “You don’t know him.”
“And you do? He isn’t the boy you used to play with.”
“And that’s his father’s fault.”
“How do you mean?”
I bite my lip. It isn’t my place to spill Ash’s secret when he’s kept it from mostly everyone. Not yet, anyway. “Just take my word for it.”
She seems to struggle with something. She draws a deep breath.
“Audie.” Her eyes glitter. “Have you slept with this boy?”
“God, Mom, that’s none of your business!”
“Sure it is. I’m your mother—”
“I’m eighteen! I’m an adult.”
“Have you slept with him or not?”
“No, I haven’t.” Technically, I haven’t, although the things we’ve done together... I feel a hot flush creep up my neck.
“Hm.” My mom gives me a suspicious look, then turns back to the counter where she’s setting out the chopping board and knife. “You don’t want to be with someone like him.”
“Really. And what is he like?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. You’re only eighteen, Audie. What’s your rush? There’re plenty of boys out there.”
“You don’t understand.” I watch her take out vegetables and cheese from the fridge and my heart clenches. “I really like him.”
“You’ll get over him. Give it some time.”
“He was here for me.” I bite my tongue before I blurt the whole thing out—the attack at the campus, Ash defending me, carrying me. Mom would freak out and the last thing I want is her deciding it’s too dangerous for me living here alone.
“I’m here for you,” she says softly, and I can hear the hurt in her voice, but I’m too angry to stop myself.
“Not really. I spent Christmas with Ash.”
She turns around, her eyes narrowed. “I see. And just because you spent Christmas day with him, he’s more important to you now than me?”
Tears burn my eyes. “Come on, Mom, don’t do this.”
“Not doing anything.”
But she is. She’s making it sound like I have to choose between them.
“Audie, you barely know him.” She frowns. “I can’t believe you went from avoiding him to defending him so fast.”
I take a knife and start cutting a zucchini into small cubes, avoiding her gaze. “I’ve known him most of my life. I’ve been in love with him for many years, Mom.”
“Honestly, girl.” Mom stabs a tomato like she wants to murder it. “I’d know if that was true.”
“Dad knew. And Tessa.”
Her lips purse. I’d always been closer to Dad rather than her. It wounds her, and I know that, but what can I do?
We cut vegetables in tense silence for a while, and she throws them in a pot. She’s making her wine stew, which I love, but I can’t relax.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come for Christmas,” she finally says. “You know I had work.”
“I know, Mom.”
“I’m not asking you to choose between us, honey.” She glances at me sideways as she heaps spices into the pot. “But promise me you’ll think about it before seeing him again. That boy’s trouble, always has been. You’re a good, intelligent young woman. You could have anyone you wanted.”
I shake my head and don’t answer. Because the one I want is Ash.
***
We eat, s
eated at the small dining table with its yellow tablecloth. Mom tells me stories about her work and her crazy colleagues, then sadder ones from the organizations she’s helping with. I didn’t know so many young people are driven to homelessness because of problems at home.
My thoughts immediately turn to Ash. At least he still has a home. Right? I frown, toying with my food. Would he go back to his father after what he did to him? Ash hasn’t said anything about that. Maybe he’ll stay with relatives?
I need to talk to him. I itch to grab my cell, lock myself up in my room and call him. But Mom’s in a chatty mood, maybe a bit forced after our discussion, trying to get me to tell her more about college and my new friends.
Then, when I’m about to find an excuse to escape to my room, she manages to distract me with presents. She’s bought me a short dress that fits like a glove, and a velvety sweater, and cute pink jammies and gorgeous high heels.
“Jesus, Mom.” I put on the shoes and I’m in love with them instantly. They’re sleek and black and make my legs look endless. “Thank you.”
“Anything for my little girl.”
I wince inwardly. We bonded since Dad died. We both made an effort, compromising, accepting our incompatibilities, laughing about them. I know she loves me with all her heart, I’m sure of it, and I love her the same.
But I’m not a little girl anymore. I know where this is coming from, I mean, she’s my mom, but she has to see I’m a woman now, and I can make my own choices.
Ash...
“Want to go for a walk?” Mom’s checking the weather outside the bay window. It looks gray but dry.
“Sure. Give me five minutes to get dressed.”
Mom sighs and clears away the dishes as I hurry into my room and close the door, leaning against it.
I call Ash’s cell, then Zane’s apartment, my heart thumping. Pick up, Ash, come on, pick up.
But no answer. The phone rings and rings, and my stomach churns. I should have told him I’d call, that we’d talk later, but Mom caught me by complete surprise, first by her unexpected arrival and then her vehement rejection of Ash. I’d been in shock, if that explained the fact I told him to go away.