Page 8 of Torment
My phone vibrates in my pocket, interrupting the quiet moment and grating my nerves. I squeeze my eyes shut before letting out a long breath. Listening for another minute to make sure she’s still in the shower, I pull out the device, huffing with irritation. It's a group text.
Can’t a guy stalk in peace?
Slater
Booth tomorrow morning. 06:00
Before I can reply, the shower stops and the sound of her sliding the shower curtain back pierces the silence. Pocketing my cell, I raise from the couch and quietly step over to a small laundry closet off of the living room. There’s a gap in the pocket door. I manage to push the door open further without a sound, then slip inside the room before closing it slightly–leaving myself plenty of room to watch her, not bothering to put too much effort into concealing myself.
If she catches me, she catches me.
As expected, her bathroom door opens and Ashlynn walks out. She’s wrapped in a purple fluffy bath sheet, and her hair twisted up in a matching microfiber towel. She pads over to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water, pausing for just a second before making her way up the stairs into the loft area–her bedroom. Whether or not she knows I’m here, I’m not sure. And to be honest I don't care. She’s never let on that she does, and she doesn't spare a glance in my direction.
I watch from below as she rifles through her drawers to grab an oversized tee shirt and slips it over her head. Dropping down on the edge of her bed, she taps away on her phone screen. After a moment of her indecisiveness,Lullabyby Creed softly bounces off the walls. She drops the phone onto her mattress before staring up at the ceiling. From here, I see her throat bob as she swallows before letting out a breath. I watch as the weight of the day leaves her shoulders, and she hangs her head.
She listens to this song on repeat every night, and one day I fully intend on finding out why because it’s clear it upsets her. More often than not, she falls asleep with tears clinging to her cheeks.
The song finishes before starting back up again as Ashlynn flips back the covers to lay down. It’s nearing four in the morning, and I need to get back to Perdition to meet with Slater and the guys. Typically, I’d wait until she passes out before sneaking out. I don't particularly care to listen to her yell at me if she finds me, but I need to leave.
Carefully, I push the pocket door back. It glides silently on its track, and I glance up to the loft to make sure she hasn't moved. She’s turned onto her side–her hair fanning the pillow around her and the sound of her attempting to stifle her already silent tears comes in over the music.
I want to go to her. I want to rip the sadness from her with my bare hands and scorch it to ash. But not now. Soon though. Shewillstop this pointless push and pull. I’ll be sure of it.
Stepping out of her laundry room, I manage to quietly tip toe to her front door and exit the apartment–but I make sure to close the door loud enough for her to hear.
Times up, terror. Game over.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The alarmon my phone blares, letting me know it’s ten in the morning.
I need to get my ass up and I’m in a mood. I slept like shit last night. My mind was reeling from Karson’s threat to meet me here and then there being no sign of him. Though, I’m pretty sure the door closing around four in the morning was most likely him and not Casper like I had originally thought. It scared the hell out of me at first and left me feeling uneasy for hours; jumping at every rattle of the windows and click of the furnace turning on. By the time it finally clicked in my brain that it wasmost likely Karson sneaking out, the sun was coming up and I couldn't fight sleep any longer.
Now I’m pissed. How the hell did he get in and when? How often does he come in here and invade my safe space without me knowing? Sitting up, I pull my knees into my chest and rake my hands through my hair to tame the strands. I drop my head to my knees and let out a breath. I’ve got to do something. I’m fucking tired of his presence, and now that I’m sure he’s completely crossed the line into my personal space.
I’m done.
I was doing fine before he fucking showed back up. Adjusted, dealing, perfectly fine. Then he shows back up and now everything’s fucked.
You were not fine.
Telling inner me to take a fucking hike, I shove the covers off of me and decide to get dressed. I’m not going to let him ruin my day. I know I’ll have to deal with him tonight so I’ll stow my rage for later. I’ve got a brunch date with Parker and Layla this morning, and I refuse to let this asshat ruin my excitement. It’s been a while since we’ve had a girls day, and I desperately need it.
After I toss my work outfit and make up in my oversized tote purse, I throw on a pair of black leggings, a plain white tank top and a plum colored off-the-shoulder pullover. Tossing my hair in a quick messy bun, I grab my phone off the nightstand and bag off the bed before running down the stairs. Stopping at the refrigerator, I reach to open it for a bottle of water and pause. My eyes dance over all the pictures, and my fingers run over the empty space. I thought something looked different last night, but I didn't think too much of it and went to bed. But there’s definitely one missing, my favorite of them all. My shoulders tense and I want to punch him in the jaw. This just clears up any uncertainty I had just a few minutes ago–he was definitely here.
“You fucking prick,” I grit out, then rip the refrigerator open.
Snatching a bottle of water, I spot a bottle of unopened champagne and grab that too then stuff it into my bag. Looks like we’re having mimosas for breakfast. I’m gonna need a drink or two before work tonight to keep me from throttling Karson when I see him. I slam the fridge door, rattling the contents inside and the few odds and ends on top, before shoving my feet into a pair of white sneakers by the front door. I lock it behind me and storm down to the lobby.
Pushing through the front door, I unlock my car before sliding into the seat. Placing my bag in the passenger seat, I put on my sunglasses, fire up the engine and merge onto the street.Y.S.K.W. by Catch Your Breathstarts when I hit the first stoplight. A smile pulls on my lips and I begin belting out the lyrics. Today might turn around quicker than I thought.
I pullup to the front of the two-story cape, and see Layla’s Audi A4 already parked in the driveway. Looking over, I see she’s still sitting in the front seat tapping away on her phone screen. Grabbing my bag, I get out and she finally looks up. She beams at me then gathers her things and a tray of coffees before stepping out of her car.
“Morning gorgeous! How are–” She stops and looks me up and down with furrowed brows. I hold my hand out in front of me and roll my eyes.
“Don’t…ask,” I tell her and she nods slightly, mouthing anokaaayy.
“You don’t have to wait for me, you know. You can go knock on the door. Parker’s not going to bite.” Her eyebrows raise at that then she lets out a disbelieving laugh. They met this past Thanksgiving. Parker and Maverick hosted dinner and I invited Layla. Everyone had a great time and was very welcoming to her, but she’s still not used to them; and she’s told me Parker intimidates her. I can understand why. Parker’s a people watcher and it takes her a long time to warm up to someone new. She can come off kind of cold, but she likes Layla.
