Patrick
It's been three days, and she still hasn't spoken a word to me. In fact, she's taken to purposely avoiding me. Every time I walk into a room, she walks out, and every time I so much as glance at her, she looks the other way. I would take it personally, if it weren't for Pete. He talks to her every day, all day, and when he doesn't, it's Megan. They both relay to me how Ash is holding up, and even the couple of times when she's mentioned me. Yesterday, for example, she told Megan that she wanted to talk to me, but she was still upset that I had told Pete everything. That's something, right? At least she doesn't hate me.
I've been sleeping on the couch every night, as Pete refuses to let me leave. He says he wanted me around in case Josh decides to show up. Honestly, I'd rather he keep Joe or Andy around, because I know I'm not much of a threat to Josh. Either way, I think my presence was more or less what kept Pete calm through all of this, because it hasn't gotten any easier than when we first brought her here. Every night, she's woken up screaming. She keeps having nightmares that Josh is coming for her, yet she still says she loves him and needs to go home. Pete is usually the first one in her bedroom when she starts screaming, so I usually end up just standing awkwardly in the doorway while I watch him hold his sister.
On this particular night, however, things were a little different. I couldn't sleep, even though it was almost two in the morning, and I was sitting in the living room with my laptop. I was just starting to feel a little drowsy, and the laptop light was beginning to hurt my eyes, so I decided to close it and set it on the coffee table. I got up and wandered through the dark house to the bathroom, which was across from the guest room and next to Bronx's. I went in to use the toilet and then washed my hands, glancing up at myself in the mirror. I had dark circles under my eyes, because of all the broken sleep the last few nights. I sighed and grabbed a towel to dry my hands, and just then, a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air.
I dropped the towel and sprinted, without thinking, into the room across the hall. I was vaguely aware of the slamming of another door behind me, which must have been Pete storming out of his room. Ash was sitting bolt upright in bed, her hands in her hair, and tears running down her face. She was hyperventilating as I collapsed on the bed beside her, pulling her into my arms. She grasped desperately at my shirt, all of her anger towards me forgotten. I gently rubbed my hand up and down her back, telling her it would be okay and that I was here.
"He's coming," She gasped, choking back more tears as she pressed her face against my neck. "He wants you."
"He's not coming for you, Ash, I promise. I won't let him."
"He's coming for you," she whimpered, pulling at my shirt in frustration.
I hesitated, pulling back to look at her. "What?" I asked. She looked up at me fully for the first time in days, but before she could say anything, Pete screamed from the doorway.
"Hey!" He shouted, looking at the window. He immediately darted from the room, running out the front door in a heartbeat. Ash pressed close to me again, gripping my sleeves as she hid her face against my chest and cried. Meagan stood helpless in the doorway, the two of us staring at the window in the hopes that we might see Pete, or whatever he was chasing. After a long, gut-wrenching moment of silence, we heard him stumble back in the front door. Meagan ran to him, and he walked in the room with her a minute later.
"What happened?" I asked, still holding his sobbing sister to my chest.
"He was out there," Pete said, out of breath. "I saw him. I don't know where he went."
Ash whimpered loudly and I turned back to her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "It's okay," I whispered, holding her tight.
"Ashley," Pete sighed, "This is only getting worse. If we just call the police -"
"No," she gasped, lifting her head quickly. "You can't. You can't call them."
"Why not?" Pete snapped, Meagan holding his arm as he started to advance toward the bed in anger.
"He's my boyfriend," she cried, a painful reminder to me. "I'll tell them you're lying. I won't let you get him arrested."
"Ashley, do you fucking hear yourself!?" Pete yelled, making her flinch. "This is insane! He beats you, and now he's stalking you! What am I supposed to do?"
"Let me go home before you just make it worse than it already is!" Ashley screamed, her voice piercing the air in a way I never realized she was capable of. She pushed herself away from me and got up, walking towards Pete. "If you had just left it be, this wouldn't be happening! I could be home sleeping right now, but instead, I'm standing here screaming at you because you're just. Making. It. Worse!"
"I'm helping you!" Pete screamed back, "You deserve better than him! I'm not letting some asshole beat my little sister!"
"I'm not little anymore, Pete! I can take care of myself!"
"Apparently you can't!" She glared at him when he said that, and suddenly, she rounded on me.
"You had to fucking tell him," she breathed, before pushing past Pete and Meagan to storm into Bronx's room and slam the door, locking it behind her. I looked up at Pete helplessly, and he was absolutely seething. Meagan reached for his arm again, and he relaxed slightly under her touch.
"She's so stupid," he breathed, running a hand through his hair.
"She's scared," Meagan whispered, entwining her fingers with his. "Just give her time."
"We don't have time," Pete said, "That fucker's out in my lawn looking for my sister. We can't leave her alone at all, and I won't have Bronx here until this is all taken care of."
"She said he was coming for me," I finally said, making them both look at me curiously. "Why me?" Neither of them had an answer for that, so we just stared helplessly at each other in the darkness, the faint sound of crying coming from across the hall.
***
Ashley
I didn't sleep much after I went to Bronx's room. I sat forlornly on his bed, simply watching the window on the other side of the room. I was almost certain I would see him out there, like Pete had, but I never did. I stared blankly until I heard the shower running in the room next to me, and I realized that it was morning. I slowly got up, walking to the door to listen for voices. I heard Pete and Meagan talking quietly, so I assumed it was Patrick in the shower. I was glad for that, because I had no desire to see him right now.
I left the room and walked out to the living room. Pete was sitting on the couch, a bowl of cereal in his lap, and Meagan curled up sleepily beside him. They both looked exhausted. It was my fault they weren't getting any sleep. Another thing Josh was right about: I was nothing but a burden, and I'm lucky he puts up with me. He probably won't after this, though.
They watched me as I walked past them to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and stared absently at the food. I wasn't even hungry, despite the fact that I haven't eaten more than a few bites the last three days. I decided to pour myself a glass of orange juice, just so Pete wouldn't yell at me, and sat down at the kitchen table. I didn't want to sit out there with the awkward silence, so I stayed right here and listened to them whisper about me like I was deaf.
Eventually, Patrick wandered in. He was dressed now, but his hair was still wet from his shower. He faked a smile by way of greeting, and I looked down at my juice. He walked to the fridge and pulled out the gallon of milk, then grabbed a bowl and a box of cereal. I hazarded a glance at him as he poured his cereal. I missed him, I could admit, but I wasn't ready to forgive him. He was wearing the cardigan that Josh had seen me wearing, and it made me pull at the sleeves of my hoodie. I liked wearing that cardigan, not just to hide my bruises, but because I felt safe in it. It smelled like Patrick, and it was like having him with me whenever I wore it.
He turned around and caught me staring at him, so I quickly looked back down at my juice. He paused for a moment, as if he might say something, but I prayed he would just walk away. After a moment he did just that, grabbing a spoon as he walked to the living room. I hurriedly chugged my juice, placing the glass in the sink before I made a rush for the guest bedroom. Just as I left the kitchen, however, I walked right into Pete, crashing into his chest. "Woah there," he teased, smiling at me with his empty cereal bowl in his hand. I tried to just brush past him, but he held me back and gestured for me to walk with him. I sighed, but did as he asked and reclaimed my spot at the table. He went to the sink and washed his bowl, as well as my glass, and then sat down across from me. "We have to get some recording done today," he told me, looking at me seriously.
"Okay," I said, shrugging like I didn't understand why he was telling me this.
Pete stared at me for a second, then shrugged back. "You can either stay here, or go with me. It's your choice."
I looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and glared. Why would he just leave me here by myself? He knows I'll try to escape. "Is Meagan staying?"
"Nope. She has to work today too."
"So you're just going to leave me here?"
Pete rolled his eyes thoughtfully, and nodded. "Yep. Pretty much."
I searched his face, untrusting, but nodded anyways. "Okay. Is that all you had to tell me?" He nodded, so I stood up to walk to the guest room again. I went in and grabbed a towel and a change of clothes that Pete had bought me once he made me stay here. I went to the bathroom and took a long shower, making sure I looked my best for Josh, since this could be my only chance to get back to him. Once I was done, I did my hair and dried it, dressing myself quickly, and then slowly opening the door. I listened carefully, not hearing a sound throughout the house. Without hesitation, I bolted to my room, grabbed some of my things, and shoved them into a bag I found in the closet. My heart was thundering with anticipation as I looked around to make sure I had everything I needed. Maybe if I just explain to Josh what happened, he won't be so angry with me. Maybe he'll understand. I continued trying to convince myself as I opened the door and jogged down the hall, only to collide headfirst into a body as I rounded the corner. I dropped everything, reeling backward to catch myself before I fell, and a hand reached out to steady me.
"Woah," Patrick gasped, "Where's the rush?" He smiled as I looked at him in absolute horror, wrenching my arm out of his grasp. "Alright," Patrick said, lifting his hands away from me in defense. "Sorry. Are you okay?" I didn't answer, but I looked down at my bag, making Patrick also turn his gaze downward. He moved before I could, lifting the bag curiously. He glanced at me before he opened it, and I could see in his eyes that he had already guessed what was inside. He pulled it open quickly, glaring at me when he saw my clothes, and dropping it furiously. "Seriously, Ash?"
I looked up at him, my heart breaking at the pain in his expression, and turned on my heels. I marched back to the guest room, wondering how I could have been so stupid to think that Pete would leave me alone. I tried to slam the door behind me, but Patrick was there to catch it, following me into the room. "Just go away," I stated, calmly enough, but Patrick only turned me around gently to face him.
"No," he growled, "I'm not going away. None of us are, Ash, you need to understand that we want to help you."
"Maybe I don't want help," I mumbled, unable to look him in the eyes.
"It doesn't matter," Patrick said, "It's not up to you anymore."
"It's my life," I insisted, trying to turn away.
Patrick grabbed me by my elbows, as if he were afraid to touch me anywhere else, and pulled me closer to him. I finally looked up, and my nose was only inches away from his. "You're right," he whispered, calmly, "It is your life, and I won't let you waste it on him." I didn't say anything, so he went on, staring at me with certainty. "You're terrified of him. I've seen it on your face, Ash, the way you look at him and the way your eyes change when you speak about him. I don't see love there, I see fear and hatred -"
"I don't hate him," I stated, finally looking down at my feet.
"You do," Patrick insisted, "You just haven't realized it yet." He moved his hands from my arms to my face suddenly, lifting my head so I was looking at him. He didn't look angry anymore, but his eyes were glossy, like he wanted to cry. "Please, just trust us, Ash. We're only doing this because we care about you."
I shook my head, reaching up to hold his wrists like I was going to move his hands away, but I didn't. "Josh cares about me," I whispered, tears falling from my eyes. "He said...he said you don't...." I closed my eyes, flashing back to the night before I left, when Josh drove his foot into my gut and shouted those awful things at me about Patrick.
"I don't what?" Patrick asked, stepping a little closer as he searched my face curiously.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I shook my head again. "You don't care," I finally choked out, hating myself for believing it. Almost immediately, Patrick's hands left my face to pull me against his chest.
"Don't" Patrick sighed, "Just don't. You know better than that, Ash. I've always cared about you."
I broke down in his arms, beginning to ruin his shirt with my tears. "I'm sorry, Trick," I cried, knowing that I was stupid for ever believing Josh. That was one thing he had always been wrong about; Patrick did care, and he was still my best friend. Of course he only told my brother because he was scared. It wasn't as if he had ever promised me that he wouldn't. They just didn't understand why I wanted to go back, why I needed to.
"Shh," Patrick whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the side of my head. "You don't have to be sorry." I lifted my head off his chest to look up at him, about to apologize again, but he only smiled at me and reached up to wipe the tears off my cheeks. I stared at him, wondering how I hadn't noticed before the way he looks at me. Josh used to look at me that way, before he started looking at me with contempt. Patrick stared back at me, his smile faltering a bit as his eyes flickered down to my lips for half a second.
My eyes widened when I realized what he was about to do, and I almost let him, until the doorbell sounded like the drop of a hammer through the air. Patrick jumped slightly, stepping away from me as he dropped his hands to his side. I stood there nervously, unsure of what to do as Patrick just stared at me. "Should probably answer that," I whispered, to which Patrick nodded frantically and spun around to leave the room. I followed after him slowly, my hands shaking at the thought of what just almost happened. I stood in the doorway to the hall, watching Patrick walk to the door and pull it open, without even checking to see who was standing on the other side of it.
When I saw who it was, my heart dropped like a stone, and a sickening lurch in my stomach threatened to bring that orange juice back up. I decided in that moment that Patrick was right; I hated Josh more than I realized.