Page 14 of Ruthless Intent

Stretching out on top of the bedding, I tuck my hands behind my head and stare up at the ceiling. I try not to question why I’m lying on the floor and not on the bed in the other room.

One step at a time. Stick to the plan.

Step one: get out of prison.

Next up, step two: find the girl who put me there.

Once I’ve achieved that, it’s time for step three.

Make her fucking pay.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ASHLEY

Welcome to Whitstone

Population 4,532

The sign goes by on my right, as the car speeds along the road, and butterflies take off in my stomach. It’s been five years since I last came home, after Mom called to say Dad had suffered a fatal heart attack. I came home for the funeral, stayed in a hotel in the next town over, and left the following morning before anyone in town could speak to me. I didn’t want to leave my mom alone, not so soon after his death, so I invited her back to New York with me. It lasted a week before she decided she wanted to go back home.

Why am I coming home now? Is it for closure like Scott claims? Maybe.

But there’s also a tiny part of me that knows once it’s confirmed that Zain Ryder is back in town, I’ll never come back. I need to go home now, before he returns. I don’t know what being released from prison early entails, but I’m sure there’s a lot of paperwork involved. I doubt he’ll be back for at least a week.

So, I’m coming home to take one last look around, say a final goodbye to my brother, pack anything from my childhood that I want to take back to New York with me, and then I’ll turn my back on Whitstone for good.

I tap the screen of my cell to change the song, and smile when ‘Daisies’ by The Orphan The Poet begins to play. I turn up the volume, wind down the window, and sing along as I drive the last mile into town.

Mom’s house is off Main Street, and I turn left just after the Post Office, and find a parking space along the road. When I climb out, someone calls my name.

“Ashley? Ashley Trumont? Oh my god, is that really you?”

My heart sinks. Sondra McMillan—head cheerleader when we were at school, only daughter of the McMillan’s, one of the founding families of the town … Zain Ryder’s cousin and loudest supporter during his trial, declaring his innocence and my dishonesty to everyone. Of all people that could have seen me arrive, it had to be her.

I fix a smile to my face and turn to greet her. “Hi, Sondra. How are you? You look well.”

Sadly, it’s not a lie. As a student, she’d always been perfectly put together, and she is no different now. Her blonde hair is in a perfect chignon, her clothes beautifully pressed without a single crease. Her nails are manicured and painted a subtle nude color that matches her lipstick.

She holds out her arms, and moves closer so she can air kiss my cheeks. I fight not to roll my eyes at the shallow display. We didn’t mix in the same circles at school, and after Zain was convicted, her and her friends went out of their way to make sure I was alienated and ignored.

“You look tired,” she says when she steps away. “Not unexpected, all things considered. I’m sure Zain’s release came as a huge shock to you.”

“Yes.”

“Of course, we all knew he was innocent. Zain would never do something like that.”

“Really?” I don’t even know why I rise to the bait. She said the same thing every day until we graduated and I fled town.

Her laugh is as fake as her smile. “Everyone knows Detective Holson coached you in what you needed to say. But I always knew the truth would come out.”

“I wasn’t coached in anything.” This isn’t a new theory. It was something I heard over and over, and one of the biggest reasons I left town as soon as I turned eighteen.

“Oh come on, Ashley. It’s been fourteen years. You might as well admit the truth now.”

“The truth is that I walked in on him covered in blood and leaning over Jason’s body.” My voice is sharp.

“Why were you there, anyway? I’ve always wondered. Thirteen years old and walking across town so late at night to go to your half-brother’s house. That’s a little odd, don’t you think? It’s not something you ever really explained.”

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