Ruthless Love (Ash and Innocence 1)

“Nah.” Tristan’s voice was cold. Frightening. He pushed me inside one of the small jail cells, then slammed the door shut before I could stop him. Just when I was wondering if he even knew how to lock the doors, he produced a set of keys so rusty that I was worried one might break off in the lock if he tried to use it.

“Tristan. Stop! Please.”

Ignoring me, he slid the key in and twisted. There was a heavy click of metal that made my heart sink. I was fighting back tears, but I didn’t want him to see me cry.

He put his hands on the bars and watched me, eyes blazing. “This is for having the balls to accuse me of stealing your glasses. Maybe you’ll take me seriously next time I tell you to do something.”

“Tristan,” I pleaded in a desperate whisper. “Just let me go. I won’t even tell anyone.”

He pulled my glasses from his jacket pocket, looking down at them thoughtfully. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed them through the bars of the cell and into my lap.

Breathing heavily, I put them on. The world sharpened, and so did my view of Tristan Blackwood. But I didn’t need glasses to see that he was a monster. He pulled out his phone, tapped his finger on the screen a few times, and with each tap, the sound of the music from the other room got louder.

He left, heading back for the group. I tried yelling for help, but nobody came. Either the music was too loud, or none of them cared.

I closed my eyes, trying to find a way to calm down. But I couldn’t. I kept running through all the possible scenarios. One way this ended was them leaving me here, maybe forever. I’d have to pray that I had cell phone service so I could call my mom. I could call the police, but I’d probably get in legal trouble for being here and my mom would find out. One way or another, the only way out of here without Tristan’s help was digging myself into more trouble with mom, which also would definitely mean she’d keep homeschooling me.

But Logan seemed to have something resembling a heart. I didn’t really believe he’d let them leave without me. At least I hoped he wouldn’t.

After what felt like half an hour, Tristan and one of the girls walked into view. The girl, who was wearing a short dress and clutching a bottle of liquor, stopped when she saw me. “You locked her in there?”

“Don’t worry about her.”

With his back to the wall so his eyes could lock on mine, he pulled the girl’s head down to his neck, where she started kissing him.

I looked away, feeling disgusted. When I stole a glance back his direction, I saw she was still kissing him like her life depended on it, except all he was doing was watching me with a strange, calculating expression. It was like he didn’t feel any of it or care.

I turned myself to face one of the graffiti covered walls, refusing to watch. Thankfully, the blaring music meant I couldn’t hear much. It was around ten minutes before I heard the rattle of a key in the door.

He gestured for me to leave the cell as if nothing had happened. I could’ve yelled at him or tried to hit him. I could’ve done a hundred things.

But all I wanted to do was make this night end. I wanted to do everything in my power to make sure I never had to look at Tristan Blackwood again or any of his friends.

I made my way past him and to the main room, where Logan stood and came to me when he saw the look on my face.

“Hey!” Logan flicked his hand in the air. “Kill the music.”

Tristan ignored him, but I was outside and away from the loudest of the noise in a few seconds, anyway.

Logan followed me out. “What happened? Are you okay?”

I shook my head, eyes focused on the dark trees ahead of me. “Can you please take me home?”

Logan glanced back toward the building, then nodded. “Yeah. I can come back and get them later. C’mon.”

I looked over my shoulder once before we were out of sight from the jailhouse and saw Tristan standing in the doorway, watching us go. I hoped it would be the last I ever saw of him, but deep down, I had a feeling this was only the beginning.8TristanI hadn’t seen Wheels since the jailhouse last night. Part of me wondered if I’d gone too far, but the other part of me thought I hadn’t even gone far enough. The simple truth was she might have heard enough to ruin my fucking life. I just couldn’t be sure. I didn’t know what she’d seen, either.