19. The Death of Peace and Mind
Chapter 19
The Death of Peace and Mind
Esme
W e’re on the way home when he takes a random turn onto a dirt road.
“Uh, Ash?” I ask. I may be a little tipsy, but I don’t remember him saying anything.
“Breathe, Princess, we’re gonna go stargazing.”
Awe. I hate it when he’s nice. I’ve been trying to stay away from him, but my chest keeps feeling funny, though. I know I can’t have anything serious, but I don’t know how long I can deny these feelings. He’s so sweet when he wants to be.
We keep going down the road for a while longer. It gets darker the farther down we go, and it’s quite bumpy. I have to hold on to the “oh shit” handle to manage the movement.
He pulls off onto the side road and jumps out.
“Wha-what the fuck?”
“Come on, Princess,” I hear from outside the truck. I jump out of the truck and walk around the back to meet him. He had dropped the tailgate and laid a blanket out for us.
“Can I help you up?” I nod my head yes, and he grabs my hips before lifting me into the bed of the truck. I crawl across the blanket, careful to drag it too much with my knees, and then park myself right in the middle. I wait for him to jump up, and he sits next to me. I watch him and see him gazing upward. I’m just admiring him when he breaks the silence.
“You know,” he says. “It’s hard to look at the stars when you’re staring at my face.” He looks at me and smirks, and my face heats.
“Oh right, stars.” I look up, and I’m in awe. In LA, you can’t see stars unless you go out to the hills. I’ve read about how many there are, but I’ve never had to put it into perspective. He points out the Big Dipper to me, and then we find the Little Dipper. We’re even able to see Saturn, although it doesn’t look like much. It’s such another orangey white dot that doesn’t twinkle. If it doesn’t twinkle, it can’t be a star.
“You can put your head on my lap, if you want. It might be more comfortable.” He’s right, my neck does hurt from craning up and staring at all the stars. I take his suggestion and rest my head in his lap. He plays with my hair, and I savor every moment. I never realized how good it feels to have someone do this to you.
“So, can I ask you a question?”
“Mmm hmm,” I respond.
“So a few nights ago when you got super drunk…”
I stiffen at his comment. I didn’t realize I was that drunk around him. I don’t remember most of the night. Just him there with tequila and red pepper noodles.
“Yes…”
“Well, you mentioned dying. And someone possibly wanting to kill you?”
Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, did I really say something to him? I shoot up, tears already welling in my eyes.
“Fuck, Ash, please don’t say anything to anyone. I…I don’t want you to get hurt too. Please.” I’m sobbing. and he reaches for me. I go with him, and he pulls me into his chest.
“Shhh,” he soothes. “I can help, Princess. Please just tell me.”
I take some deep breaths and try to calm myself. I can’t keep telling him shit, but he already knows some of it so maybe he can try to help me.
“Okay,” I breathe out. I take a few more hiccupy breaths before I’m ready to continue. I pull out my phone so I can start at the beginning.
“Okay, I got really drunk the night Daddy was killed. I don’t remember anything, but later after I was already at Hannah’s house, I found this.” I pull up my phone and show him the picture. He clenches his jaw and squeezes my phone tighter as he zooms in on the picture. I continue with my story as he keeps zooming in and out, like it will somehow change what he sees.
“So obviously, I wasn’t supposed to say anything to anyone, and I called the cops. So I talked to a lawyer, got a hotel, and then came here right after the funeral.”
He hands my phone back to me and wipes a tear that is rolling down my cheek. His hand cradles my cheek, and I lean into it.
“And now I’ve told you, so you’re at risk. I was supposed to get my inheritance once I was here for a couple of months, and then I was going to leave it all behind and move to Brazil or something. And now I’m really really sad because I have to leave you three weeks early.”
He chuckles. “Brazil?”
I look at him with no expression on my face. “Out of all of that…all you got was Brazil…”
“No no.” He laughs again. “I just thought it was funny. But in all seriousness, I take care of those I care about, and I care about you, Princess.” He caresses my cheek with his thumb, and I enjoy the sentiment.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll fucking kill them if they try, okay?”
“Ash—”
“No. You’re not gonna get hurt over something stupid. Also, you’re not leaving me any sooner than you have to. I’m just starting to like you, ya know.” He nudges me with his shoulder, and I dramatize the movement.
“I guess I’ve learned to kinda like you too,” I relent.
He wraps his arm around me, and I cuddle into the pocket that’s formed for me. The smell of grass, clean soap, and something masculine is comforting.
“Hey, Ash?” I say.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. You always make me feel safe.” I lean up and kiss his cheek. There’s a red mark from my tinted ChapStick, and I smirk to myself. I could wipe it off, but I like the feeling of marking him.
He turns to me, and we stare at each other. The tension builds between us, and I feel like I can’t breathe. It’s suffocating being this close to him and wanting him so badly but knowing I can’t have him. My eyes keep being drawn towards his lips, and I feel like I’ve stopped breathing.
“Fuck it,” is the last thing I register before he kisses me.