7. Ash

SEVEN

"So, you wanna meet up in like an hour at The Furnace?" Melissa asks over the phone as I exit the elevator and walk down the hall toward my apartment. I matched with her on an app earlier today, and I should go out. I need to go out. But what I heard this morning keeps going through my mind.

At first, I thought I was dreaming. There's no way in fuck that Sunday Sutton would be masturbating, especially not to me. But when she came, and it was my name, she cried out. I nearly blew a load right then and there. It was too much, and now, that's all I can think about.

"Ash? Are you still there?" I blink, shaking my head at Melissa's voice.

"Y-yeah, I'll be there in an hour. See you then." I hang up the phone and am about to open my door when I pause, hearing loud music playing from inside my apartment. Furrowing my brows at the male voice singing, I open the door and find Indy and Sunday's son, Wade, playing Rockband in front of the TV. Wade's on mic and guitar while Indy's playing drums with her sunglasses on and one of my ties around her head. They both look up to stare at me.

"Oh, hey, Ash." Indy waves, pausing the game.

"What's going on?" I ask, looking around. Nope, Sunday's not here.

Wade clears his throat while shifting nervously. "My mom had another seizure and hit her head. Indy called 911, and Mom insisted I come back here with Indy. If you want me to leave, I understand."

"Another seizure?" I repeat as my anxiety increases. How often does this happen? Why isn't her medication helping with her seizures? "I-is she alright? Where is she?"

I watch the smirk pull at my sister's lip but ignore it. "She's at the hospital. They're keeping her overnight, but she's fine. Where are you going?" I don't respond to Indy as I walk back out the door, heading back to my car.

I handthe night nurses coffee and donuts before one of them points to Sunday's room. I'm very familiar with who really runs the hospital. You can get pretty much anything if you are in the nurses' good graces. Between my time as a paramedic and all the time spent here with Indy, I've learned the best ways to win them over.

I walk into the dimly lit hospital room and see Sunday wide awake.

"Ash?" Her weak voice cracks as she sits up.

"Hey, sunshine." I give her my best smile as I walk in and take a seat next to her bed.

"What's going on? Is Wade okay?" I nod quickly as I watch her trying to sit up.

"Oh yeah, he and Indy have formed a band, and they'll be hitting the road soon." She lets out a tired laugh, and I feel tingles run over me.

"Well, tell them I want a T-shirt," she sighs. "I felt so bad, but I didn't want Wade to be stuck here all night and I couldn't find my phone to call the girls, and your sister is very persistent." I snort as I rest back against the chair.

"Yeah, try living with her."

"I like her. I keep trying to get her to hang out with me and the girls, but I think since you hate me, she feels like she can't."

I am silent for a second, trying to choose the best words possible. "I don't hate you, sunshine."

She rolls her pretty eyes and stares at me. "Really, charming? Because I wouldn't call whatever we got going on a blossoming friendship."

Scratching the back of my head, I laugh. "Yeah, I wouldn't say that either. But it's not hate, just deep humiliation or some shit. I mean, I did beg for your forgiveness last night."

"I wish you wouldn't have been embarrassed," she mumbles softly, ignoring my joke. I lean forward to ask what she means, but she's already moving on to another subject. "Sorry that Wade is at your place. I hope he wasn't interrupting any plans." I shake my head.

"Nah, I didn't have any plans." Besides Melissa, who had plenty to say when I had to call and cancel. Something about it being for the best because there's no way I was living up to my photo anyway. Yeah, I definitely dodged a panic attack with that one.

"Okay, then I give up." She drops her hands on the bed and stares up at me. "Why are you here, Ash?" That"s a valid question; too bad I'm as clueless about the answer as she is.

"I–I really don't know, sunshine. Indy and Wade said you had a seizure and that you were at the hospital, and I left to come here so you weren't alone." I look up into her honey eyes, her lips pressing firmly together. "If you want me to go, I will."

"No." Her voice is firm and final. I watch as her expression softens, and she lets out a breath. "No, I don't want you to go, charming. What I want is for you and me to move past our encounters from before. I'm going to be your neighbor for at least the next few months, and I enjoy Indy's company. I'd like not to have to sneak around or walk on eggshells anymore."

"I agree." I shift forward again as I scoot the chair closer. "So, why are you moving again in a few months?"

"Wade and I are going back home after his school year is finished as long as I sell the studio."

I raise my brow. "Home?"

"Yeah, Alabama." I pray that my face isn't betraying me as I try to remain neutral. Back to Alabama? Why? She runs a successful business here. Why would she sell it and move back there?

"Homesick?" I manage to get out, and she snorts and shakes her head.

"Not really," she chuckles softly. "I don't get along with my parents. I'm kind of the disgrace of the family, which, let me tell you, is a hard title to achieve with the Suttons."

"Well, congratulations on the win," I smirk, and she laughs lightly. "Seriously though, I find it hard to believe you are a disgrace. You're a business owner; you take care of yourself, and you take care of your kid."

"Yeah, but see, you're looking at it wrong." She holds her hand up and starts listing things off on her fingers. "Pregnant at thirteen, and the donor was a fucking predator. A GED instead of a high school diploma, so all scholarship hopes were dashed. I moved to New York with a baby to live in a literal closet while learning ballet and dancing. Then, I lost my spot in the ballet after making it into leading roles because my epilepsy medication was making it too hard for me to remember my routines. I married way too young to a man—and I use that term loosely—who was only with me because I was young and attractive. As soon as the whole father-figure thing was expected of him after he took us to California, he said I needed to leave his home. Then, I was divorced. Then, if that wasn't bad enough, I stupidly went back to him a while back because I just didn't feel bad enough about myself, and he then ran me into so much debt that a cheap place far away from this expensive-ass state seems to be the only chance of me coming out of this. So yeah, not exactly a success in my parent's eyes."

I stare at her, trying my damndest to keep my face neutral. That"s a lot to deal with and at such a young age, all alone and with a small child to protect. I couldn't imagine.

"Are you still with him?"

Sunday laughs coldly. "Nope," she pops her lips on the ‘p'. "He tried to steal Wade's pet, so I rescued it and ran eight miles on foot to hide in my dance studio with the stupid thing. My ex found me, and–" She cuts herself off as if she had said more than she meant. I notice the look on her face and recognize it for what it is. It clicks, and I feel anger course through me.

"Did he?" I manage between my clenched teeth.

"Just once. I didn't think he had it in him, honestly." I'm up instantly and heading toward the door. "W-where are you going?" she asks nervously.

"I'll be back. I just need to go and beat that fucker with a bat until he stops breathing." I watch her face soften.

"I don't need a knight in shining armor, charming. I can handle myself like I always have. It's over and done with. He was pissed off and drunk, not that it's a good excuse, but he didn't leave there unscathed. And soon, Wade and I will be out of the state, and I'll never have to think about him again."

"So what?" I let out a huff. "You're just going to leave all of your friends behind and move to a state you hate? Then what? What happens if he follows you there? Or you meet another one, because let's face it, there are plenty of his kind. What if the predator wants to be in Wade"s life? Are you just going to hop around and run from them for the rest of your life?" Her eyes narrow as she glares at me.

"Excuse me? And who made you the expert on my life? I don't run, and I sure as shit ain't running from some bitch-ass-man-child with commitment and responsibility problems. Nor will that piece of shit predator get anywhere near my boy. I handle my shit," she says venomously, crossing her arms. "I don't run from nothing," she mutters under her breath, and I back off.

"I'm sorry," I state softly. "You're right; I don't know your life. I shouldn't butt in. I just know what that kind of life is like. I shouldn't have said anything."

She raises a brow. "And how on earth would you know anything about this?"

"Because…" I take a nervous breath. "Besides growing up and having to jump from one state to the other to hide from my abusive father, I ended up in a long-term relationship with a woman who was abusive." I stare down at my twisted hands resting on my bobbing leg. "And yeah, I know… I'm not the poster boy for it. I've heard it all before, ‘but Ash, you're tall and built. What kind of pussy are you that you can't handle a woman?' It's not–"

"I didn't think that." She interrupts as she sits up to face me better. "Men can be abused, Ash. Grown men can and are abused every day by their significant others, friends, or co-workers. Probably more than we know because men are taught not to talk about it, that it's a sign of weakness." She gives me the slightest of shrugs. "I don't think that way, and it's not how I raise Wade to think, either. Men should never put their hands on a woman, but the same rule applies the other way. I'm sorry someone hurt you, and I'm sorry that you didn't have a safe space to work through that pain and embarrassment."

"Stop," I say, standing up. I'm suddenly itchy and hot all over. "I-I don't need your pity, just… stop."

"Ash, I-I'm not trying to pity you."

"Well, good, because I don't want it!" I snap, louder and harsher than intended. "Especially not from you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" She snaps back as I rub my tightening chest.

"Talk an awful big game for someone who laughed in my face, called me Dash, and then, when we met back up, has put me down, saying I'm materialistic and ill-suited for my previous work. You're a bully too, Sunday."

"Uh!" She scoffs while trying to get up.

"S-Sunday, stop. You have a head injury; you can't get up."

"Oh, but you can call me a bully? You can waltz into my room uninvited and tell me how I'm doing everything wrong. Well, fuck you, Ash; I don't need your voice in my head telling me I'm a fuck up. I have enough people in there doing that!"

The sound of the door opening catches my attention and the nurse I had bribed earlier looks at me. "You know better," she scolds. "Come on."

I sigh and give Sunday an apologetic look that she doesn't meet before walking out of her room with the nurse, feeling like the biggest piece of shit ever. I didn't mean to snap or raise my voice, but my pain and shame were on the verge of escaping the boxes. I kept them locked in, and I didn't want her to see me break.