by Jo Raven
But a search of my pockets tells me I don’t have my cell. Did I leave it at Zane’s? Or at the fight club? Did I drop it somewhere?
Shit.
Dizziness hits me hard. I need a place to crash.
A sign for room rental catches my eye—the one that isn’t swollen shut. I stumble into a dark entrance. Everything’s dark right now in my life. Has to be a metaphor or something.
There’s a button on the grimy desk and I press it. The place stinks of mold and piss. I lean against the desk, my pulse buzzing in my ears. Whoa, so dizzy.
A guy comes into the room, gives me a narrow look but doesn’t ask any questions. I put down some of my precious cash for a room and the guy gives me a key with a number and instructions.
I drag my sorry ass up a flight of stairs and locate my room. I walk inside, drop my duffel to the floor.
Then I flop onto the hard bed and pass out.
Chapter Seventeen
Audrey
Dakota leaves after a long afternoon of catching up and studying. It was great seeing her again and she had fun stories to tell me from her time with her family. Her cousins sound hilarious. One of them, Pete, managed to creep up on Dakota’s dad as the man was dozing and dyed his hair green.
Dyed hair seems to be a running theme in the family.
Then in revenge, her dad put blue food dye in Pete’s burger, so afterward Pete ran around with a blue tongue.
Yep. A theme alright. And the whole family sounds like a bunch of three-year-olds. I wish I’d been there to see it.
But I hear with only half an ear. My stomach is in knots. I’m upset, angry, sad, confused. Ash has turned my world upside down, but it keeps spinning out of orbit. He’s hot and then cold—making my body sing, making me feel cherished and protected, then vanishing into thin air and acting all distant and secretive.
What’s up with that?
What’s this club where he’s going tonight? The Bulldog. Why isn’t he telling me more? Why is he getting into fights again? I thought that was a thing of the past. I stood up for him against my mom, telling her he changed. He was so gentle with me, I never thought he’d be different with other people.
Curled up on my sofa, I draw trees and flowers, houses and streets. On top of them, I sketch a face frame by wild dark hair and a wolf’s eyes, wounded and yet fierce.
I drop my pencil and stare at Ash’s face.
This isn’t helping me understand. I need to discuss this with someone—what happened between me and Ash and how to handle it. Talking to Mom is out of the question; she already dislikes Ash. Dakota is great but I feel like our friendship still isn’t the kind where I can open up about things like this. I don’t have that many friends in this town yet. I left for a couple years and returned a stranger.
I certainly can’t talk about it to the guys. Dylan is great, but he’s a man. Plus, I know now he resents Ash for my sake. Add to that the fact he rarely seems to be around lately and...
That leaves Tessa. To be honest, she was the only option from the start. I want to tell her about Ash, and about my first time—how it hurt and was so amazing at the same time. There had been no blood. Should there be? I’m not sure.
I need advice on so many levels. I need my best friend.
I call her as evening falls. She sounds distracted, but tells me to meet her for a drink at Hawk’s Bar and Grill on State Street. Before she hangs up, a sob escapes her.
Worry fills me, making me forget about my own concerns. What’s wrong? Not bothering to change into nicer clothes or wear make-up, I pull on my coat and walk to the bar.
Tessa’s already waiting for me at a table, a beer bottle sitting in front of her. Green light spills from the overhead fixtures, and it makes her face look gaunt and kinda scary.
“Tess? What’s up?”
She lifts her beer and takes a long gulp. It’s then I notice more bottles next to her. Christ, how long has she been here, drinking?
“Hey...” Her voice slurs. “Audrey.”
I get a good look at her teary eyes and grip her arm. Suddenly my own concerns flee my head. “What happened?”
“You wanted to talk about...?”
“Forget about me. No rush. Something happened back at home, didn’t it?” I sit next to her. “Tell me.”
“Just the usual.”
“Can’t believe that. Look at you. What did your parents come up with this time?”
And the floodgates open. Tears mixed with mascara run down Tessa’s cheeks, leaving black tracks. “They want me to move to Chicago, study law and go out with Sean. Even after what he did to me, Aud! They just won’t believe me—about what happened with him, what I want, what I need. They spent every minute of the day telling me how bad my choices are and what I should be doing. And all the while Sean was there—as a guest! They sat him next to me, insisted we dance, insisted we go out...”
Christ. Nothing new there. Tessa’s parents are an overwhelming lot. Rich and powerful lawyers themselves, they want Tessa to copy their every movement, pursue a career she doesn’t give a damn about, marry a guy who hurt her, have a crappy marriage and sprout one point five kids like everyone in their circle.
They started the cycle with her older sister, Mary, but Mary moved away and cut all contact with the family as soon as she turned eighteen. The focus naturally shifted to Tessa who, if anything, is more of a rebel than her sister.
But too much pressure can break anyone. Worst of all, Tessa loves her family, and I’m sure they love her, too. They just can’t see past their own ideals and ambitions.
I ask for a Sprecher Dopple Bock and sip the slightly sour, fruity beer. Tessa has never told me in detail what happened with Sean, but what I know isn’t good.
“It’s so hard to keep arguing and resisting,” she whispers, clutching her beer. “It’d be so much easier to just give in, you know? Stop fighting it.”
“But you don’t want to be a lawyer. Or move to Chicago. And you most definitely don’t want to go out with Sean again.”
She shudders. “God, no. If I lay eyes on him in the next ten years it will be too soon.”
“What happened with him, Tess? Do you think you can tell me?”
She shakes her head. “Another time.”
She always says that.
I know she dated him a few years ago, back when were in high school and she spent the summer with her parents in Chicago.
He hurt her. Forced her, she once said, but I don’t know if that means he raped her or forced her to kiss or touch him.
Does it matter? Forcing is forcing, and I don’t want her around that guy. Or her family. I think she needs a break—but even if she changes her name and number, I can’t see how. They pay for her college tuition and her apartment, her car and clothes. Everything. They have the money.
But that’s not the point.
“Maybe you need to get a job,” I say, shredding the label on my beer bottle.
“Leave college?”
“No. Just a part time job, so you don’t have to depend so much on them.”
“They’ll have another fit.”
“So? They keep having fits anyway.”
That shocks a laugh out of her. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” Truth is, I’ve been thinking I should do the same. Mom is great, but this latest argument about Ash showed me she has too much control over me. I need a place of my own.
“Maybe you’re right.” She hiccups and wipes at her cheek, smearing it with mascara.
I snort and dig in my bag for a tissue. “Keep still one sec.” I clean her cheek. “There.”
“Thanks, Audrey.” She gives me a watery smile. “For listening.”
I sigh. “Well, it’s about time I pulled my head out of my ass.”
“Don’t say that.”
I sip my beer, smiling. “Yeah, well. You know what I mean. I haven’t been there much for you. But I want to.”
She reaches over the bar and squeezes my hand. “You�
�re here. That’s what counts.” She leans back. “And now your turn. Tell me what got your panties in a twist.”
Swallowing down my beer for courage, I tell Tess what happened between me and Ash.
And have to endure a lot of squealing and giggling and then a long silence after I tell her that Ash is involved in fights.
“Ash? Asher Devlin? Are we talking about the same guy?” She tilts her head to the side, sending her blond locks spilling over her shoulder. “He hasn’t been into fights since the accident.”
“He is now.”
“Are you sure?”
“His lip was split. His jaw and ribs were bruised. And he didn’t deny it.”
“You sure it wasn’t his dad again?”
I bite my lip. “He’d have told me.” Wouldn’t he? And his knuckles were red and raw. No, he fought someone. “Why would he fight?”
“I don’t believe it.” Tessa frowns at the collection of bottles and glasses in front of her.
“What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t sound like Ash. Where is he now?”
“This morning he was still at Zane’s.”
“He was at Zane’s, huh?” She gives me a knowing look and a smirk.
Heat suffuses my face.
“Let me just call his cell and see if he’s done with whatever he’s doing and can join us for a drink.”
She rings up Ash, the light from the cell phone screen lighting up her face. Then she suddenly sits up straight. “Erin?”
The girl sharing Zane’s apartment? Why does she have Ash’s cell phone?
“He left the cell at your place?” Tessa taps her fingers on the bar. “You know when he’s coming back?” Her fingers still. “He’s gone? Has he said anything?”
“What do you mean, gone?” I whisper.
“But he’s coming back, right?” Tessa hunches over a little. “He took all his stuff? Are you sure?”
I blink.
“Thanks, Erin.” Tessa disconnects and places her cell on the bar.
“He must’ve gone back to his dad’s place,” I say.
“Yeah.” Tessa couldn’t sound any less convinced if she tried. “Erin arrived and he left. Typical.”
“What’s the connection?”
“Erin... She’s got some issues with the Devlin family. She doesn’t like having Ash there.”
I try to digest this. “Why?”
“Not sure. She dated Ash’s brother many years ago and obviously something bad happened that put her off the Devlins.”
“But if that was on Tyler, why would she hate Ash?”
“People often lump family members together, even if they aren’t to blame.” She raises a brow at me, and my face flames again, for a different reason this time.
I’ve done it. Why should I be shocked if Erin does it, too?
***
I hope Ash will call—from his dad’s house, or maybe he’ll return and get his cell from Zane’s. But nothing.
I try calling Zane’s apartment, but nobody answers. Erin’s probably out, and Zane hasn’t come back yet.
I find myself gnawing on a fingernail as I pace in my apartment. I feel like crying. How has it all gone bad? We haven’t had a fight. In fact, we made love. He made love to me. My first time, and it was amazing.
Ash was amazing. Everything was so perfect.
And now he’s vanished into thin air.
No, not thin air. I know where the house is: where mine used to be. I’ll go and confront him, talk to him in person, ask him why he can’t open up to me. What I have to do to make him trust me. Why the fighting and the secrecy.
I take the bus and get off at the stop down my old road. It feels so weird, standing here, years later. So many childhood memories. The little park where Tessa and I met after school to talk and play. Her aunt lived nearby and Tessa lived with her; her parents moved to Chicago when she was little.
Dylan would often join us, hiding from the other boys who made fun of him for playing with girls. Rafe would sometimes come over as well, and Zane, more rarely.
Then Ash’s family moved in. There’s the big tree in their garden where we’d climb up in summer and pretend we were on a desert island, looking out for ships to save us.
Ash loves water. He likes sitting in the parks, watching the boats and the open water. He can sit and gaze at the lakes for hours.
At least, he used to. No idea if he still does that now.
I walk past my old house, disturbed at the changes I can see. The porch is now painted a garish green, and the rose bushes have been cut. No curtains hang at the windows; they’re bare, like watching eyes.
Shivering, I hurry toward Ash’s house on the corner lot. I’m almost there when I notice the police car and the EMT truck sitting on the other side.
And the yellow tape.
I back away, though not before two policemen who’re cooling their heels outside the car see me and call for me to wait.
So I do, my heart racing. What the hell happened? Is Ash okay?
“Good day, miss.” The first officer has a goatee and an open, friendly face. “Couldn’t help noticing you were going to ring the bell. What brings you here?
My pulse races. “I used to live nearby. I was passing through the neighborhood and thought to pay a visit.”
The other man, clean-shaven and with what seems to be a chronic scowl, gives me a once over. “Why are you here? What’s your relationship with the Devlins?”
What’s this—the good cop/bad cop routine?
“What happened here?” I ask.
The good cop glances at the house. “Mr. Devlin was found dead this morning. Do you know anything about it?”
Black spots dance in front of my eyes. “Asher?”
“Jake Devlin.” His eyes narrow. “Do you know where Asher Devlin is?”
Relief swamps me, and I struggle not to let it show. Not Asher. He’s alive.
The bad cop takes a menacing step closer. “I asked if you know where Asher Devlin is.”
“I have no idea.” And it’s the truth.
“When did you last see him?”
“Yesterday. Yesterday morning.”
“How did he seem to you?”
God. “Normal. I guess.”
The other policeman frowns and rakes a hand through his short, grey hair. “Do you know if Asher and his father were on good terms? Do you know if Asher ever threatened him?”
Is he suggesting what I think he is? “No, Ash would never...” I struggle to pull myself together. “Asher is a good guy.”
But his dad beat him. What if Ash fought back? Could anyone blame him?
And yet the idea makes me sick.
“Isn’t it true Jake and Asher Devlin often fought?” the scowling policeman asks. “That Jake Devlin beat his son?”
I swallow hard. What if saying yes incriminates Ash? “I don’t know.”
“Fine. May I see some ID, please?”
With trembling fingers I draw it out of my purse and show it to him. He examines it and jots down my name and ID number.
“Well, Ms. Morrison, if you happen to see or talk to Asher Devlin, please let us know.” The less intimidating officer passes me a card with his name and number. Then the two of them turn and head back to the police car.
Leaving me alone and still in shock.
God, Ash... No matter what, it was his dad, the only parent he has left, and to be accused of his murder...
Just then my cell rings. Hoping it’s Ash, I pull it out of my purse.
It’s Zane. “Audrey, have you heard from Ash?”
Jesus. “No, I hoped you had.”
“The fucker left, forgot his cell, and now the cops are calling on it, asking for him. Any idea why? They won’t say.”
“His dad is dead,” I say, the words painful.
“What the fuck? Since when?”
“No idea. I just went to his house and the police were there. They were asking me where Ash is. Told them I don’t know.�
�
“Fuck.” Zane sighs. “Tessa said you were spending more time with Ash. You really don’t know where to find him? No clue?”
“He’s been getting into fights. He talked about having to take care of something. It sounded iffy.”
“Fighting?” Zane sounds as shocked as Tessa has. “Ash? He hasn’t started a single fight since the accident.”
“He’s all bruised and stuff. You’re wrong, Zane.”
“Damn. Did he mention any place where he’s been hanging out? Anything at all?”
I try to think. “He mentioned a club. The Bulldog. Do you know it?”
“No, but the police will know. I’ll let you know what they say.”
“Sure.”
He disconnects and I’m left staring at the blank screen of my cell. I’ve reached the bus stop. Snowflakes swirl on the air.
God, I hope Ash is okay.
***
“The Bulldog,” Zane says, his voice strained, “is an illegal fight club. The cops are heading there now.”
“Illegal fight club.” I’m numb. I sit down on my sofa, the phone heavy in my hands.
“They think Ash might be fighting for money. He doesn’t fit the profile of people going there to lay bets.”
“For money. And you don’t sound too surprised.”
He huffs. “I wish he and I had talked more before I left for Christmas. I wish I’d made it clear he didn’t have to leave when Erin came back.”
“Zane... I’m missing something, right? Pieces of Ash’s life. Why would he do this—work at a fight club?”
“Because he can’t go back home. His dad almost killed him last time. I figure he thought it’s the only way to make enough to live on his own.”
A lump forms in my throat. “God, if I’d known... I’d have invited him to stay here.”
“You really care for him, don’t you?” Zane’s voice is soft.
“Yes.” The word comes out strangled. “Zane... The cops, they talked as if they think Ash might have killed his dad.”
“They’re fucking with you. Ash would never kill his dad. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did.”