Unholy

Chapter 4

Ash

“Come on, Ash. Live a little,” Annie, one of my friends, encourages me.

“It’s someone’s car!”

“And? We’re going to track you the whole time.”

“What if they find me in there first and murder me?” I ask her with a slight laugh.

“No one is going to find you.”

“We’re on the worst side of town, Annie. My dad is already going to have a fit if he finds out,” I remind her and myself. I’m praying to God he doesn’t find out, and I’m also praying for forgiveness.

“I did it last time, and I was fine,” she reminds me. Her idea of fun is getting into some stranger’s car without them knowing and letting them drive to wherever it is they’re going, then having friends pick us up. We make sure we’re tracking each other before we do it, and honestly, I know just how dangerous it is, but I love the little thrill and butterflies I get when they do it. I’ve never done it yet, but they all have.

“Okay, fine. Which car,” I ask. Annie and Ginger both look around before picking one.

“That one.” I nod my head, and we sync our phones before I sneak over and test the trunk. The SUV opens easily, and I slide in, lying down so I can’t be seen. I pull the door shut behind me and that’s where I stay until I hear someone opening both the driver and passenger doors. They both slam shut, and I clench my eyes shut as the car starts up and we pull out. I look down at the screen of my phone and lower the light levels so they won’t be able to see the glow.

My heart is pounding against my ribs as music plays, but no one speaks. The ride doesn’t seem to take long, and before I know it, the engine dies, and they climb out. I wait a few minutes with my heart rapping against my ribcage until I feel it’s safe to climb out. When I do, I glance around but don’t see Ginger and Annie here yet.

I look over and notice it’s an old warehouse. I walk closer and see there’s a small window with no covering over it, so I peek inside. That’s when I see him.

Tristan.

There’s a girl on top of him, riding him, some sort of clamps on her nipples that link to a chain he keeps pulling, and her lips keep parting. I know I shouldn’t be watching this, but I can’t help myself. I’m drawn to him in ways I know I shouldn’t, but Tristan is intriguing. His muscles move when she presses her nails into his chest and slowly drags them over his body. I can see the angry red marks from here.

Do people actually like this? Is this what sex is? I wouldn’t know since I’ve never done it, but now I’m curious. I keep watching as she bounces on him harder and faster. His hands move around her waist and hold her there, stilling her. You can tell she isn’t happy about it either, judging by the pout on her face.

He’s saying something and smiling up at her, but she doesn’t look happy about it. Finally, he lets go and slaps a hand on her thigh multiple times until you can visibly see the red outline of his palm. I gasp and cover my mouth.

This can’t be right. This can’t be how having sex is, is it? I keep watching even as he turns his head with his eyes closed. I should move away from the window, but I don’t. It’s like I’m stuck in place, and I can’t move. And do I really want to? My cheeks heat as I watch what they’re doing, but it’s not until I hear the horn behind me that I know Ginger and Annie are here. I start to pull my eyes away from the scene in front of me, but when I look up at his face once more, I see him staring right back at me.

He doesn’t make a move to stop her. He doesn’t make a move or say anything. His eyes linger on mine, and heat coils inside of me. Heat I’ve never felt before. I don’t know how or why I feel like this, but after one more beep, I pull my gaze away from him and rush to the car. I climb in, my breathing coming sporadically.

“Are you okay?” Annie asks.

“Yeah. That was crazy.”

“Who was it? Some drug dealer?” she asks. I shrug as she takes off down the road, glancing over my shoulder to see if he came out. He didn’t.

“I think I need water,” I tell her. Annie nods, and we pull over at a local diner and climb out. We head inside and then sit, ordering something to drink.

“So? What was your person like?”

“They played really loud music, and no one spoke the whole way,” I tell them. It’s true.

“What? They didn’t even talk? That’s so weird,” Annie adds as I take down my water and ask for more. The two of them stare at me and I wonder if they can sense what I was doing. No, there’s no way.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just really thirsty for some reason,” I tell them. When the waitress sets down the next glass, I grab that one, too.

“What did you see in there?” Ginger asks this time.

“Nothing. I’m okay, really. I think I was just hot in that trunk.”

“Anyways. So Ben is leaving soon. What are you going to do with your time?” Annie asks me, changing the subject thankfully.

“I was thinking of volunteering at the youth center while he’s gone. You know, the arts and craft department always need help.”

“That would be fun, and since you’re studying art, that works out great for you.”

“I can’t imagine how hard it is to keep helpers there. I mean, it’s on the worst side of town, but I think I can do a lot of good there.”

“Oh, I know you can. You’re so good with kids, and you love what you do. I think that’s great,” Annie says.

“I wish you would do something more spontaneous.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. I can’t really think of anything off the top of my head, but you’re always so predictable.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Annie chimes in.

“No, but look how long it took us to get her to play our little game,” she adds.

“Your little game isn’t safe. I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.”

“Because you’re a little stuck up, Ash.” I gasp at her words. I thought we were friends. Apparently, I was wrong. I stand and leave the table with Annie calling out to me. I raise my hand over my shoulder so she can stop and storm out of the diner. I know this area isn’t the safest, but I have my mace my dad gave me and instead of calling him and getting in trouble, I turn off my location on my phone and start walking. I can’t believe she said that to me.

I keep walking even as the chill of the night hits me. Cars blow past me, blaring their horn until one pulls up next to me. I start to panic, not knowing what to do. I reach into my pocket and pull out my mace, ready to spray and run if I have to.

“What the hell is that?” I hear Tristan’s voice from the other side of the car.

“Mace.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I didn’t know it was you,” I retort, still holding tightly to it. He stalks around the car and stops in front of me, staring me down.

“You going to use it?” he asks, nodding toward the mace in my hand.

“Do I need to?” He lets out a laugh that sends heat spiraling inside of me. Again, this feeling is new to me, and I don’t know what it means.

“I think you’re safe, Little Nun. Get in the car,” he says, nodding toward the SUV. I walk over, and he opens the door, ushering me inside. When I climb in, he closes the door and walks around to get in. Once he’s in, he turns to me and grins. He doesn’t speak, just smiles. Then he’s turning back to the front and taking off.

We drive to where I climbed into the back of the SUV, and he parks.

“What are we doing?”

“I need to get my bike. This isn’t my car,” he tells me.

“Bike?”

“Motorcycle,” he says as he climbs out and motions for me to do the same. I keep my hand in my pocket, wrapped around my mace, ready to spray it at a moment's notice. “Come on, Little Nun.” I follow behind him down a set of stairs and into what appears to be a club. There are people everywhere, and I cough from the smoke filling the room. I watch as Tristan tosses the keys to someone and then grabs another set. All eyes turn to me as I stand in the corner near the door, ready to bolt at any second.

“Let’s go,” Tristan says when he walks back over to me. We climb the stairs once more and then head back out toward his bike.

“I’ll call a taxi.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yeah, I think I will.”

“No, Little Nun. I think you fucking won’t. I’m taking your ass home.”

“What if my dad is there?”

“Then you can tell him how we came about riding home together,” he taunts.

“I … I can’t do that.”

“I’ll drop you off down the street. Get on,” he demands, passing me a helmet. I slide it on my head and climb on the bike after him. I grab his jacket and hold onto it, but he just laughs.

“You’ll be out of control, Ash. You have to hold onto me.”

“What? No.”

“Yeah, Ash. Either that or you’re going to kill us both. You ready to meet your maker?” he asks me. I shake my head, and he grabs my hands, pulling them around his waist. This is wrong. It’s so wrong, and I know it, but what am I supposed to do? I hold onto him as he revs the bike engine and takes off.

We hit the road and I can almost feel myself start to relax into him. I’ve never felt anything like this, being on the back of his bike. I’ve never felt so at ease or so free. It’s the strangest feeling in the world but I find I like it.

We pull onto our street and just like he said, he pulls over to let me off.

“Thank you.”

“Why are you smiling?” he asks, keeping his tone even.

“I’ve never been on a bike before.”

“Clearly. So that’s why you’re smiling?”

“It was amazing, Tristan. Thank you.” He shakes his head as I pass him the helmet I had on. He slips it on his head and nods toward the house, wanting me to go. I start walking, and I can feel him behind me, watching my every move.

When I make it to the house, he revs up the bike and takes off down the road passing me altogether.