A smile twitches up at the corner of his lips before he slowly turns his attention on me.
“What do you think?” he asks before wrapping his lips around his fork and chewing slowly.
I swallow nervously as heat rushes south. How is he even hot eating? It’s all kinds of wrong.
“I think you’re an ass, so anything is possible.”
“There you go then. You didn’t need to even ask.”
“What are you going to do with them?”
He shrugs. “Haven’t decided yet. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, let alone move in. I’m sure I’ll find a use for them at some point.”
“Great, well, I’ll look forward to that then.”
“Don’t be so worried, cheer slut. Give it a few months and I’m sure half the school will have seen what I’ve seen.”
My blood boils at his words.
“Excuse me?”
“What? They’ve already had a good look. Might as well let them see everything, right? Plus, that’s what cheer sluts are there for.”
My teeth grind at his assumption that just because I like cheer, I also like opening my legs for every guy at school.
“Like Krissy?” I seethe.
“Mmm...” he says, making a show of readjusting himself as if the mere mention of her name turns him on. My stomach turns over, making me want to puke the dinner I’ve only just eaten. “Her mouth was almost worth coming to Rosewood for.”
“You’re a pig.” Dropping the container I was eating from to the seat, I push the door open and climb out.
“Where are you going?”
“Getting away from you.”
I slam the door on him before he has a chance to respond.
Thoughts of him spending time with Krissy shouldn’t bother me as they do. Most of the guys at school have spent time with Krissy, and I don’t give a shit about them. So why do I care about him? Why do thoughts of them together make me want to go and rip Krissy’s hair clean from her scalp for touching him?
“ARGH,” I scream into the silent night of wherever the hell we are in an attempt to expel the pent-up energy that’s vibrating around inside me.
I need to run, cheer, get drunk. Anything. Anything to make it—and him—go away.
As I pace beside the car, I’m aware of his eyes on me, but I don’t look back. It would be pointless anyway with the blacked-out window he’s hiding behind.
I’m nowhere near as calm as I want to be when I pull open the driver’s door and fall down into the seat. I readjust it so my little legs can reach the pedals and then start the car.
“What are you—”
“Shut up, Ashton. Just shut up,” I seethe, starting the engine and turning up the radio the second it comes on to drown him out. “Go to sleep or something,” I call before turning it up a few more notches.
He grumbles something but, thankfully, I can’t make it out as I put the car into drive and head for Seattle on finally, the last leg of our journey.
Despite the fact my eyes remain locked on the road ahead, I feel his burn into me for the longest time.
“Can’t you go to sleep or something?” I bark at him after turning the music down a few notches.
“But watching you fume is so much fun,” he quips. “You want any more food?”
“What have you done to it?”
“I laced it with poison.” I don’t need to look back at him to know he’s rolling his eyes. “Nothing, but you barely touched it.”
“The company ruined my appetite. Put it in the bag, I might have more when I finally get away from you.”
“You do know that’s not happening, right?”
“Yeah, about that—”
“Not up for discussion.”
“Our parents have my suitcase, my clothes, my everything.” Or at least I hope they do, seeing as we walked out of the airport leaving everything behind.
“You’ll get your stuff, don’t worry.”
“Great,” I mutter. “Now go to sleep. You’re annoying me.”
He chuckles but after a few seconds, he does at least lie-down and disappear from my sight.
I keep the music low because despite the fact I want to annoy the shit out of him as he does me, I’m not an evil person and I’m aware of just how many hours he’s been driving for.
The sun is beginning to come up and scenery around me changes as I make my way into central Seattle, my eyes flit around the buildings, the city coming to life as I slow my speed and begin to pay more attention to the GPS so I don’t make a wrong turn.
Finally, the screen shows we’re only minutes away from our destination. It’s a welcome sign after all the hours it had shown when we first left.
I’m starting to believe that Ashton’s admission that he lived in the ghetto was nothing more than a joke as I navigate through the city. I pass the hotel that Mom had mentioned in her message and I almost pull over and abandon Ashton in the car with my need for a shower and a comfortable bed, but I glance back at him sleeping and I realize I can’t.
Instead, I keep driving, but it’s only about twenty minutes later when I realize that he wasn’t lying at all. I turn a corner and almost immediately the atmosphere changes. The fancy buildings vanish in favor of darker, graffiti-covered brickwork.
“Okay then,” I whisper to myself as I pass a group of kids, probably our age, who look like they’re dealing something they shouldn’t be in the recess of a storefront.
So he wasn’t lying then.
My eyes widen at everything beyond the car and unlike when I slowed in front of the hotel, now I really don’t want to leave the safety of the vehicle.
The dilapidated apartment buildings, the beat-up cars, and the questionable looking characters who are loitering around at this time of the morning send fear skating down my spine.
“You have reached your destination,” the GPS chirps at me. I find a space on the side of the road and pull the car to a stop, staring up at the apartment building it directed me to.
I swallow nervously. Is that why he wanted me to stay with him, to scare the shit out of me? I’d have been more than happy in that nice looking hotel with a room to myself instead of risking my life here.
Twisting in my seat, I look at Ashton who’s fast asleep under my blanket. His full lips are slightly parted and his dark lashes resting down on his slightly reddened cheeks.
He looks beautiful and peaceful. So peaceful that I almost don’t have it in me to wake him... almost.
“Ashton,” I say slightly louder than necessary.
He stirs, but he doesn’t wake.
“Ashton, we’re here.”
His eyes fly open and he sits up, staring out of the window as if he’s in a trance. I have no idea if he’s actually awake or not as he sits totally motionless for a few seconds.
“Ash?” I whisper, scared to drag him from wherever he’s gone.
After a few beats, he turns to me. The look in his eyes makes my breath catch. He looks as if he’s in physical pain just being here.
“T-this was a mistake,” he admits quietly, ripping his eyes from mine.
“I can go back to the hotel,” I offer, assuming that’s what he means, but when his shoulders tense, I start to wonder what the hell he is actually talking about.
“No,” he snaps harshly.
“O-okay. Well, what...” I trail off when his attention goes back out the window. He swallows, making his Adam’s apple bob and the tendons in his neck tighten.
After a few more seconds, he seems to steel himself and he swings his legs from the seat and runs his fingers through his hair.
“Y-you okay?” It’s a stupid question, I know that before it even passes my lips, but I don’t know what else to say right now.
“No, Ruby. I’m anything but fucking okay right now. Grab your shit, we can’t sit in this fucking car any longer.”
I nod at him because finally, we agree on something. Killing the engine, I push the door open, breathe in a lu
ngful of... well, not-so-clean air, and stretch out my sore muscles. I really need to sleep in a bed.
He joins me on the sidewalk after a few moments, his eyes still locked on the building before us.
“Did you live here long?” I ask, needing to break the silence.
“Yeah.”
He takes off toward the entrance and I’ve no choice but to follow unless of course today was the day I wanted to be murdered on the street.
I rush to catch up with him as he pushes through the doors. I’m amazed—and somewhat relieved—when an elevator appears around the corner and I step toward it.
“Don’t,” a low voice rumbles from behind me.
My hand pauses halfway to the button and I spin to him. “You don’t want to go in there. Stairs.” He tips his chin toward the stairs and starts toward them.
I follow and start climbing despite the fact my leg muscles scream at me with every step I take.
“I’m too tired for this. What could be so bad about the elevator?”
“You don’t want to know, trust me. We’re nearly there.” He looks back at me and for a moment I think he’s going to stop to help me, but then he spins back around and continues forward.
Finally, he comes to a stop in front of a door with chipped green paint and a wonky number sixty-seven hanging on the front of it. The hallway itself is... depressing. There really is no other way to describe it. It also smells, but I can’t quite put my finger on what the musty, stomach-churning scent consists of.
After a few seconds, Ashton slides a key into the lock and after sucking in a deep breath, he pushes the door open and steps inside.
I have no idea how he must be feeling, being back here after everything that’s happened but the hard set of his shoulders and the way his head is slightly lowered as he stands in the middle of the room, I know he’s struggling more than he wants to admit.
Stepping into the sparse, cold apartment behind him, I close the door and scan my eyes around the space. It’s an open plan living/kitchen area with limited furniture and belongings. If he hadn’t told me downstairs that it had been his home for some time, I never would have believed it. It looks like they’ve just moved in or are in the process of moving out.
Stepping up to him, I place my hand between his shoulder blades, my need to try to comfort him getting the better of me. I wrap my other hand around his upper arm in the hope my touch might help in some way. He startles as my heat hits him, but he doesn’t move or say anything as he stares at the same spot on the wall.
“Ash? Are you—” My words cut off when his eyes cut to mine. My breath catches in my throat at the pain lacing through his dark eyes.
Before I’m even aware he’s moved, his hand is around my throat, my back crashes against a wall and his tongue is forcing its way past my lips.
His kiss is bruising, wet, and dirty, and I lose myself in it almost instantly. He sucks on my tongue before biting down on my bottom lip. I swear the coppery taste of blood hits my tongue.
His fingers hold my throat tightly, but I don’t miss the caress of his thumb against my pulse point as he continues to kiss me.
“Ashton,” I moan into his kiss as the length of his body presses against mine, squashing me between his solid frame and the wall at my back.
Lust shoots straight between my legs the second I realize it’s the length of his hard cock pressing against my stomach.
“Fuck, Ruby,” he groans, dropping his lips to my jaw. “I need... I need it to go away,” he admits. The pain in his voice breaks my heart. He might be an ass, but he’s suffering the worst pain in the world right now having lost his mom.
“Let me,” I say, shocking the hell out of myself.
“Ruby,” he groans, his hand wrapping around my shoulder before he pushes slightly, showing me exactly what he wants.
My back slides down the wall until I’m face to face with his sweatpant-covered cock.
My mouth goes dry at the thought of what I’m about to do.
I hesitantly glance up at him, and the second I find his dark, haunted gaze staring down at me, I know that there’s no way I can refuse.
I might not be Krissy or one of the other cheer sluts like he makes out I am, but I can do this for him. Give him the release he needs to get out of his own head right now.
My fingers wrap around the waistband of his sweatpants, but the second my knuckles brush his skin, he jumps away from me as if I burned him.
“No,” he barks. As he steps away from me, his demeanor completely changes. Gone is the lost, broken boy from a few moments ago, and in his place is the vicious asshole I’m much more accustomed to. “I don’t want you,” he spits, looking down at me hunched on the floor like I’m nothing more than a piece of shit on his shoe.
My lips part and tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I fight them. There’s no way I’m going to show this asshole that I care about him rejecting me, because I don’t... it’s just the exhaustion getting to me.
His eyes pin me to the spot for a few more seconds as he backs toward the door.
“Don’t touch anything, and do not, under any circumstances, open the door,” he warns, but before I get to ask him what the hell he’s talking about, he’s gone and the door is slammed behind him.
My legs give out and my ass hits the floor with a thud.
“What the fuck?” I mutter, staring at the closed door like it holds all the answers to the mystery that is Ashton Fury.
I rest my head back against the wall, my eyes full of tears from his rejection but desperate to close.
Knowing that I can’t pass out on the floor—I may as well go back to the car if the fucking floor is my other choice—I climb to my feet and look around.
There are four doors leading from this main room, I already know that one of them is my escape should I need it, so I can only assume the other two are bedrooms and a bathroom.
Sucking in a breath, I prepare to go in search of the bathroom. I really don’t want to be poking my nose around Ashton and his mom’s home, but I feel l have little choice seeing as the prick left me alone.
I pause with my fingers wrapped around the handle, hating that I’m invading their privacy by doing this but not having any other option.
I pull the door open a little and peek through the crack. It’s obviously a woman’s room, so I quickly close it once more. Ashton should be the one to deal with that room first.
I try the next one and find exactly what I was after.
I make use of the toilet before stripping down and splashing cold water over myself. I want a shower and I stare at it longingly, but it just feels wrong to make myself at home like that, so I cope with the bar of soap on the side and the ice water. I squirt a little toothpaste on my finger from the tube littering the basin and attempt to brush my teeth. I’d bought a brush from the first store we stopped in, but I left everything in the car, and I can only assume that’s vanished along with Ashton.
Quietly, I close the door behind me and look around the space once more. The furniture is all old, worn, and chipped. The kitchen units look like they’re barely holding themselves together and the windows are small and dirty and hardly let any light in. I understand why when I walk closer and find that both of them stare directly into someone else’s apartment in the next building.
There are a couple of photo frames on the dresser and I slow as I pass, staring at a younger, sweeter looking Ash with his mom’s arm around his shoulders. She stares down at him like he’s her world and my heart rips open for the poor boy who’s lost everything.
I keep moving, looking around the place, not that there’s much to see until my eyes land on his door.
I know I shouldn’t but my need to know more about the boy who messes with both my head and my body is too strong.
I twist the handle and push his door open. I’m hardly surprised when a black room greets me. Music posters cover the walls, most of them I’ve no idea who they are, gangsta rap isn’t really my thing unless
you count being kept awake by it night after night as being a fan.
His bed is covered in messy black sheets and much like the main room, there’s not much in the way of possessions. There’s a couple of bottles of cologne, a set of headphones and a cell charger, but that’s it. I sit down on the edge of his bed and try to imagine what his life was really like here, but it’s hard when there’s so little to go on. One thing I do know though, he’s not grown up like I have, and I start to really understand why he hates me.
Stephen left him and his mom here and started a new life in Rosewood. We’re not rich, not by any stretch, but we’ve got enough to live easily and not worry about buying food and other necessities. We certainly have hot water and heat, which this place seems to be lacking.
When my eyes get heavy and my body starts to shut down, I look over my shoulder at his bed. I really want to crawl under those sheets and drift off. But I can’t.
Instead, I walk out, closing the door behind me as if I never entered, and curl up on the couch, wishing I’d gotten my blanket and pillow from the back of the car. I curl myself in a ball and try to get as comfortable as possible. Thankfully, I’m so tired that the cold and hard, lumpy couch doesn’t really bother me, and in minutes I’m out.
16
Ashton
I didn’t have any plans when I stormed out of the apartment but the second I locked eyes on Dad’s car sitting by the sidewalk, I knew I couldn’t get back in it. Not when it’s going to smell like her, remind me of her.
I ripped my eyes away from what’s been our home for the past few days and started walking up the street like I have almost every day since Dad left and Mom moved us here.
This place is like what I imagine hell must be like, but it’s home, in all its fucked-up glory.
The smell of weed on every corner, the dealers, the hookers, the beat-up, smashed-up cars, the screams and cries of people as they’re taught whatever lesson someone thinks they’re due sound out and it all just feels normal, and I feel like I can breathe properly for the first time since I rode out of this place on my bike.
FURY: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rosewood High Book 6) Page 12
