Ash just nods and gives me a little half-smile before letting go of Bruiser’s collar and tugging at his leash to get him moving again.
I stare off into the distance as we round the corner and end up back on my mother’s street. I can’t keep doing this to myself. I should just cut my losses before I get in any deeper. I should just pack up, get out, hire someone to finish the job even though I can’t afford it.
It’d be better than the sweet torture I’ve been putting myself through; falling for someone I can’t have.
“Hey,” Ash’s voice breaks through our silence, and my first instinct is to ignore it, to just keep walking. But then his hand comes up and snags my arm. His fingers are gentle, but his grip is firm, and I find myself tugged to a stop.
I turn to him. “What is it?” I ask, then I tilt my head up and see the look on his face. Something is wrong.
“Look,” he says, his voice low enough to be a whisper, and I turn my head to follow his gaze. There, off in the distance, I can just make out what he’s looking at. There’s a group of people, three or four of them at least.
And they’re standing at the end of my mother’s driveway.
***
Excuse me. Can I help you? I’m about to say it. The words are almost out of my mouth, but as soon as we’re within earshot, I hear what they’re saying and something inside me freezes up.
“Thank god that crazy woman is finally gone,” one woman says, lifting a foot and toeing at one of the garbage bags we’d stacked neatly by the curb. Her motion upsets the pile and the little pyramid we’ve built comes tumbling down, bags of trash rolling over one another, falling onto the street.
My spine has turned to steel.
The woman lets out a disgusted “hmph,” and turns to face her friends. “I mean,” she says, her voice loud enough that I’m surprised she hasn’t attracted more attention than she already has, “it was bad enough when she lived here, bringing down the neighborhood like she did. I just hope that whoever’s flipping this godforsaken place has the good sense to wear a hazmat suit.”
I pick up my pace, legs and lungs burning. What the hell is going on? Who the hell does this woman think she is?
“Excuse me.” The words are finally out of my mouth, but the pressure on my chest is still there. “Can I help you?” I snap as I come to a stop. Crossing my arms over my chest, I cock out a hip and glare at her.
“Oh,” she says, turning on me, a sick little smile touching at her lips. “I’m sorry.” Yeah, I think, I’m so sure you are. “Is this . . . yours?” She pokes at the garbage again, scattering it so that it falls even farther onto the street, nearly squashing the tiny white dog by her side, the one I hadn’t even noticed until now. She must not be overly concerned about it, since it isn’t on a leash and she nearly just crushed the thing with her move. Seriously, what the hell? This woman is old enough to be my mother, and she’s acting like a high school mean girl. What is wrong with this town?
“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is,” I say, feeling more than seeing it as Ash and Bruiser catch up to me and settle at my side. I take a deep breath and feel Ash’s hand land gently on the small of my back. I glance over at him, and something inside me warms to see that his attention is on me. All on me. Not on this stupid woman and her posse. I let out the breath I’m holding as smoothly as I can. I can’t show these women how mad I am, how freakishly livid they’ve made me. Judging by the smug look in their eyes, that’s what they want.
I’m not going to give them the satisfaction. Bolstered by the weight of Ash’s hand on my back, I raise an eyebrow at her. “Is there a problem here?”
One of the women scoffs. I’m not sure which one, but the sound sends a shot of pure fury up my spine.
The ringleader just plasters on a saccharine smile. “Oh, nothing,” she says, reaching up and tossing a lock of her over-processed hair over her shoulder. “I was just telling the ladies here that I was glad that someone was cleaning up the Collins woman’s trash, though—” she glances back and forth between me and Ash, a smirk pulling at her lips “—I suppose if this is yours now, that’s a little too much to ask for, isn’t it?”
And with that she turns to her friends and says, “Let’s go, ladies,” and the entire fucking group sashays away. My muscles coil under my skin, ready for a fight. I want to lunge after her. I feel wild. I want to rake my nails down her face, claw at her throat, bite at her skin. It’s primal, unrestrained.
Vicious. Just like she is. Just like this whole goddamn town is.
It’s only the touch of Ash’s hand against my back that holds me in place as the hateful woman and her expensive tracksuit-clad posse walk away, a little faster than strictly necessary.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter, and jerk away from him to stalk up the porch steps. The boards creek and bang under my boots, and I’m still gritting my teeth as I yank open the screen door. I’m actually shaking I’m so pissed off. Shaking so bad that my fingers don’t want to close around the key, that it’s a struggle to get it into the lock.
How dare they? What fucking right do they have to talk about my mother that way? Like she was trash?
She wasn’t perfect. But she was never trash.
Who the fuck do these people think they are?
Finally, finally, I get the key to slide in, and I twist it with a jerk that hurts my own wrist but I don’t give a shit. I just yank open the door and fucking slam it behind me.
Assholes.
Ash
I give the women one last glare, and then tug on Bruiser’s leash. Together, we head up the front path to the house. As soon as we’re on the front porch, I unclip his leash from his collar. He knows what to do, I don’t have to worry about him making a break for it, and while I lean over to do it, I steal a glance back at the group. They’re walking away, and as I watch, one of them glances back and visibly jerks as she catches me watching. Then she whips her head back around and the group turns the corner and disappears from sight.
Good.
Good fucking riddance. Star has enough shit to deal with, without being judged by some snooty know-it-alls like that.
I should have let Bruiser eat their little fluff-ball. That would have shown them.
Pulling myself upright, I reach for the door, and as soon as I pull it open, I’m greeted with the sound of Star swearing like a fucking sailor, immediately followed by a crash against the wall.
Fuck. She’s pissed.
I’m in the kitchen before I realize I’ve moved, and just as I walk through the doorway, Star screams and hurls a frying pan against the wall with both hands. It hits the wall with a crash, sending bits of plaster and drywall into the air before careening away so fast I jump to get out of the way, even though I have no way to know where it’s headed.
“Jesus!” I say, and Star fucking whirls around to look at me, anger and defiance sparking in her eyes. I lift my hands in the air in surrender. I have never seen her like this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone like this. “Are you okay?” I ask, but my voice wavers under her glare, and I hope I haven’t just brought her wrath down on me.
“Did you fucking hear what they said about her?” Star demands. “About my mother? Who the fuck do those bitches think they are, talking about her like that, like she was worth nothing.”