Ruthless Love (Ash and Innocence 1)

Tristan cracked his eyes open to regard me. His tone was so casual and detatched I could’ve almost thought he was talking to himself. “You’re the girl who lives in the shack.”

“It’s a house. Two stories, fifteen hundred square feet. It’s hardly a shack, and my mom—”

He waved his hand dismissively as he stood. “I’m going to go back to the party for a while. I’d tell you not to go anywhere, but it looks like you’re short a couple wheels, aren’t you?”

I glared up at him. I was really, really tempted to get up and charge him, just in hopes that I’d get to see the surprised shock on his face. In all likelihood, I’d only end up running face first into a wall or falling over, so I stayed where I was.

“Can you please just take me back home? If I’m not back before my mom, she’s going to murder me.”

He stopped with his hand on the door. “You didn’t see? Your chair was busted to shit. It sounds like you’re dead either way, to me. So, what’s it going to be, Wheels? You wanna die tonight, or in the morning?”

“Neither?” I tried, feeling desperate. Was he seriously planning to leave me here? “We could—”

He flashed a grin that was so wicked it made my skin prickle. Blurry vision and low light or not, I knew in that moment that Tristan was not a good person. “There’s no ‘we.’ You’re a problem I intend to solve. So, I’m going to go have fun, and when I come back, we’ll chat about why you’re going to keep your nose in your own fucking business from now on. Understand?”

“Next time you don’t want someone in your business, try leaving them in the bush you find them in,” I half-shouted at the closing door.

I closed my eyes and let my head flop to the pillow. Leave them in the bush you find them in? I groaned and waited for him to come back, wondering how many people would come to my funeral. Probably just my mom, I decided.

Then again, maybe murdering somebody was an automatic un-invite to the funeral.* * *I sucked in a surprised breath and sat upright. A lock of hair was plastered across my mouth and cheek by saliva. I cringed, trying to peel it away while my brain played catchup.

Boy stuff.

Black, evil prince sheets.

Pile of football pads and a helmet by the bathroom door that probably stank.

My heart pounded. Shit. I’d fallen asleep. I pulled myself out of the blankets I didn’t remember getting into and looked for the shoes I didn’t remember taking off. I found them sitting on the nightstand, along with my socks. I gave both a curious look, then decided I must’ve just forgotten going to sleep.

I instinctively reached for the pill bottles that would’ve been beside my bed and felt my stomach drop.

My medications. It was all at home, and I hadn’t even taken the ones I was supposed to have before bed last night.

It felt like I was going to hyperventilate. Without trying to, my mind started running through all the things my mom said could happen if I missed my pills. I checked my arms for hives, then took a deep breath and tried to sense if I was having trouble breathing. I felt my pulse and scrunched up my face, listening for anything strange.

I decided it didn’t matter. I was close enough to my house that I just needed to get the hell out of here and get home. Mom could kill me later, but if I didn’t get those pills, one of my conditions would probably do the job for her.

I heard Tristan shout something downstairs—except, no. That wasn’t his voice. It was deeper, and different somehow. I guessed that maybe people had stayed all night from the party. Or more likely, he had been caught by his parents. I wondered if he’d expected them to be out of town and they came home without warning.

Curiosity compelled me to give standing a try. Listening to Tristan get grilled by his parents felt like a small, much needed dose of mental catharsis after what he put me through last night. If I could just brace myself all the way to the door and then the hallway beyond, I could probably fight through the dizziness. Hell, who was I kidding? I was so curious I’d get on my belly and slither to the hallway if I had to.

But when I stood, I was shocked to find that only a slight bout of lightheadedness hit. I took a few cautious steps and barely had to support myself to walk. I wondered if it was just the adrenaline.

Once I got to the stairs, I made out the tail end of what the man was shouting about.