22 | control

ASHTON

Standing in the parking lot, I slip into auto-pilot. Into numbness. It's the only way I can deal with what I just did.

To strip myself from the pain I've inflicted on the girl who gave me fleeting happiness, and in return got chewed up and spit out for giving me that.

For giving me part of her light.

I walk over to my dad's truck and get in. He's watching me, dragging on his cigarette, not saying a word. He doesn't have to. I know what he's thinking: that was a home run, boy.

He drives me to the gym for my afternoon shift and gives me strict instructions before he leaves. I mop floors, wipe down equipment and clean windows until my time is up and I can use the punching bag.

I imagine my dad's face on there, and I see flashes of Summer and the way she looked at me in that parking lot, and I block out the stabbing in my ribs and pummel the bag harder. Until I'm dripping sweat and I can't breathe, until my father's skin is swollen and bloody. Until he's begging me to stop, and I only do when red takes over and there's so much rage and hate that I think I'm going to explode.

I collapse against the bag, hanging on with burning lungs.

"Ashton?" Lance's voice floats over. "All good?"

His concern has more to do with whether I'll break his equipment than it does for my state of mind.

"Yeah." I take off the gloves. "Rough day."

❖❖❖

I'm home for less than ten minutes before there's thumping on the door.

"Hey," Nick says when I open. "Your dad home?"

"No, he's at the shop. And I gotta get there soon as well, so..."

"So you have some time. Great." He lets himself in, looking around like my dad might pop up like a jack-in-the-box even though I just told him where he is.

"What's up? You usually tell me if you're coming over."

He shrugs, knuckles cracking. "You were hardly around today. Didn't even hear how it went with Summer."

I go back to making my sandwich so I don't have to look at him. "It went fine. We fucked, it was good, now it's over."

"Over? That's it?" The cracking stops. "But I thought you didn't want to screw it up."

"Yeah, well, I screwed it up. Big shock."

A chair at the table scrapes. "So that's what happened in the parking lot? I walked past her and she looked kinda upset and... your dad picked you up."

He's piecing it together on his own, so I stay quiet and screw the peanut butter lid closed.

"He never picks you up. He didn't even do that in school."

"Trying something new," I mutter, reaching up to put the jar in the cabinet.

"Holy hell, dude." The chair scrapes again, and I see his eyes fixed where my shirt has ridden up.

I pull it down. He slaps my hand away and lifts it. I shove him off, but he's already taken in the dark bruises spanning my stomach and ribcage. We stare at each other in loaded silence. He turns and paces to my room.

"Nick." I drop my butter knife and follow, hearing rummaging ahead of me. "Nick!"

He's in my dresser, ripping out clothes and stuffing them in the gym bag on my bed.

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?" He pulls out a shirt. "You're staying at my house. I don't care if my mom has a problem, you can sleep in the basement. Anywhere is better than here."

"You know I can't do that. Just stop, man."

"No! I'm so sick of watching you live like this, Ashton!" He slams the drawer shut, face flooding with foreign anger. "You're not a kid anymore, you don't have to be here! He can't control—"

"How many times do I have to tell you, Nick?!" Heat rises up my neck, bubbling over my brain. "It doesn't matter how old I am or where I sleep! AS LONG AS I'M IN THIS GODDAMN TOWN, HE CONTROLS ME!"

I drop to the edge of the bed, imploding on myself. The walls have closed in, and I feel like a giant, hunched down and wishing I was small enough to slip beneath the floorboards and disappear.

Nick is still. Cautious. "What happened?"

My elbows dig into my knees, and I'm sure I'm pulling at my hair but I can't feel anything. "I fucked up. I really fucked up this time, man. It was bad."

"Bad like when you ran away bad?"

"Close."

"So you stole from him?"

"No." I shake my head, voice muffled in my hands. "Actually, yeah, because that's his logic. What's mine is his. And the cash I was saving for a car, for when I graduate... he found it. Everything I had."

My shoe taps on the loose floorboard that no longer conceals anything.

"He just... lost his shit. Said he'd been too slack with me, that I owed him money for what I put him through. That he's not letting me get away with anything anymore. I have to give him the cash I make. Not just a cut, all of it. School, work, and home. Those are the only places I'm allowed to go. And no friends, no parties, no girls..."

"No Summer."

I exhale, deep-seated guilt enveloping me.

The mattress squeaks when Nick sits. "How did he even know about her?"

"A hunch. He met her a couple weeks ago, saw something was there. And his old tried and true method is the easiest way to get me talking, isn't it?" I push the words through clenched teeth. "I was with her the whole night, so when I came back in the morning he just figured it all out. He said I had to cut her off, and I did."

Make her hate you so she doesn't come back.

Nick cracks his knuckles again. It's as if I can see him paging through a dictionary in his head, trying to string together just the right words to make this better. But he knows that's not possible. There's nothing he can say to help this time.

"I don't even care that he's got me on a short leash," I say to the floor. "Or that he took my money. There's still three years for me to figure out leaving Cloverbrook. But Summer... it was so good with her. It could have been real. And what do I do? Blindside her. Maybe this is why it's better to keep people at bay, huh."

Nick looks like he's been caught out, and I give a sour laugh.

"Yeah, she told me. And you're right." I get off the bed. "I mean, look what happens when people step foot in my life. You've had to deal with my shit since we were kids, and I know you hate it. I know it kills you, and it wasn't fair of me to ever put it on your shoulders. And now Summer. Screwed over because she got too involved, because I let her get a little too close when this is how it goes. Anyone who gets involved in my life suffers. I'm a fucking liability! You're all better off at a safe distance so you can walk away when I crash and burn. That's how it should be."

"No it shouldn't. You're not a liability, Ashton."

I stride out. He tails behind.

"My dad's waiting." I grab my sandwich and head for the door. "You can't come over anymore, okay? I'll see you at school."

❖❖❖

When I get to the shop, I go to my dad's office to check in, immediately hearing raised voices coming from inside. The door swings open and Julian appears, storming past me like a hulking tree.

I stand in the frame. "What was that about?"

Dad shoots me a glare as he sits at his desk. "Nothing I can't handle."

"So the traps I installed for him were good? I can double ch—"

"Miles needs extra hands. Go." His mouth twists, voice pained and hoarse. 

Yelling yourself raw for two days straight will fuck up your throat. Go figure. 

No sooner have I started walking, he whistles like he's calling a dog. I drag myself back.

"I told you to be here at four."

The broken hand of the clock on the wall ticks to 4:06.

"I went home to grab lunch."

He gives a short nod to the seat opposite him, and I shed my backpack before I sit.

"When I say four, I mean four."

"What, you think I was doing something nefarious in those six minutes?"

His hardened face turns to stone.

"Listen to me—" Dad's stern eyes dart over my shoulder, his expression taking on the warmth of a bonfire. "Mrs. Murray!"

"Knock knock!" A squat middle-aged woman stands in the doorway. "Sorry to impose, Curtis."

He gets up and crosses over with open arms. "You, Mrs. Murray, are never an imposition. What can I do you for?"

I roll my eyes as he guides her to the receptionist with that friendly façade switched on. The regular clients who bring in their cars for run-of-the-mill work only know this version of Curtis Banks, just like he wants. I guess I'm a hypocrite for judging his polished persona, though. 

What can I say? I learned from watching the best.

He shuts the door when he returns, the bonfire a pile of sizzling coals.

"This smart mouth, sulky thing you're doing. It stops when you leave this office, all right?" He leans back in his chair, arms folded. "So whatever you wanna bitch about, do it now."

Anything I say will fall on deaf ears, so I don't. Dad adjusts his baseball cap and tells me to get out. But I can't leave. It's as if the signals to move are ricocheting from my brain and careening to my heart.

"It didn't have to be that way with Summer. I could have let her down easy."

He props himself up like he's at a really good part of a movie. "Listen to yourself. Getting pussy doesn't mean you have to act like one, you know."

The bruise on his cheek moves with his smirk, and I wish I had managed to get more than one hit in. I wish I could fulfil that punching bag fantasy and then some.

That fantasy scares me sometimes, like I might just snap and kill him one day. Would I have a choice if I knew he'd kill me first? Would I even need that excuse?

"Come here," he grunts, moving to the wide window that overlooks the garage. He tugs a slat of the blind down. "See that?"

I peer through. "Cruz struggling to carry a tire? Sure."

"Not him. Everything. That's your future, boy."

I jerk back when he takes his fingers away and the blinds spring shut.

"I know you're throwing yourself a pity party 'cause the real party's over, but you don't even realize how good you got it," he says. "Right now, I'm giving you the food school, I'm giving you the movies, I'm giving you the gym. Hell, I don't even make you do the real dirty work here. Guys like Julian are the tip of the iceberg. But that can all change. And Summer? Remember what I told you that night at the store?"

"Girls like that fuck the soul out of you and hang you out to dry," I recite.

"Damn right. So you just beat her to the punch. Still, for whatever reason; hot sex, feelings... I know you've got a soft spot for this one."

He looks at me so intently that it makes my bones chill, his papery lips curling in delight. 

"And I want you to live with the fact that she's a casualty of your stupidity. You're gonna keep making her think she was just another way to get your dick wet. You're going to keep that little heart of hers broken, and you're never going to hide something from me again. And I swear to Christ, Ashton, if I find out you're keeping money or screwing around, if you don't take any of this seriously—you'll be out of that snobby school so goddamn fast you won't know what hit you. And this..." He gestures to the garage. "This is going to be the only place you exist for the rest of your sorry life."


a/n: raise your hand if you hate ashton's dad ✋✋

thanks for reading, don't forget to vote and comment your thoughts before you go!

Comment