Page 19 of Descent

“I did what I did because I had to, Skyla, not because I wanted to. You put me in an impossible situation. I was trying to save us both.”

“By hitting me?” I choke, my voice far more watery than I’d prefer. “By spitting on my face, like I was worthless? By calling me a stupid bitch, in a room full of people? Telling me that you could never love me?” I scoff, my voice wavering at the end.

His jaw is tense, but what looks like remorse flashes in his eyes before he shakes his head.

“You were told to be silent. In the moment, I had no other choice.”

A humorless laugh escapes me as I shake my head.

“Keep telling yourself that, Asher. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, I was so wrong about you. Or I guess I could say I was right about you all along. You may think you’re the next Jesus Christ himself, but you’re nothing. You’re a coward, you’re a follower. You’reweak.”

His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t speak, and god help me, I can’t stop.

“You sit there and judge me for trying to be happy, for trying to take whatever moments of happiness I can get. When I don’t, I’m under my father’s thumb, your father’s or yours.

When I’m not trying to just focus on the good, I’m worried about a stalker who wants everyone I care about dead. Or I’m worried about one of the guys turning on me, just like you did. I’m constantly worried and afraid, but I don’t want to be. So, I’m going to have a lot of sex, loud sex, as often as I can. If you have a problem with that, frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” he grits out. “I’m just saying…”

His words trail off as he looks at me, indecision and confliction heavy in those hazel eyes.

“What?” I snap.

My word seems to break something inside him; maybe it was patience, or maybe it was compassion, like he had any of that to begin with. Either way, his fists slam down on the counter beside me, forcing me to jump before he spins on his heel.

“Fuck this!” he barks out, before grabbing his keys on the table and swaying a bit in his steps. He reaches for the open bottle of bourbon before heading out the front door.

“Don’t you fucking dare drink and drive!” I shout at him as he throws the door open.

I follow him, yelling at him from the porch.

“Asher! Get back here! There are more people on the road than you, you selfish fucking prick! You’re gonna kill someone!”

“Don’t worry, Princess. If you’re lucky, the only dead body tonight will be mine,” he says with a bitter sneer, before firing up one of his cars and peeling out of the driveway.

Motherfucker.

Storming upstairs, I grab my phone off the nightstand. I’m still amazed Liam can sleep so peacefully through all of that bullshit. I dial 911 and wait as the phone rings.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I’d like to report a drunk driver.”

I don’t know if Asher got picked up by the cops last night or if he slept it off in his car. All I know is that he didn’t come home last night, and I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or irritated by it. The cops seemed very concerned, until I mentioned his name. Then, in an instant, the seriousness fell away and morphed into a lackadaisical bored tone, assuring me that they’d be on the lookout for him.

One hundred bucks says they didn’t even send anyone out for him. They probably just deleted the call log and moved on. God, this town is so fucked up.

Liam had to leave this morning to go talk with some other professors before class. Honestly, with how often he’s talking with his teachers, I wonder how well he’s doing in school. Does he struggle? I bet his asshole parents love that. We don’t talk about them often because Liam can’t stand them, and I can’t stand the way they treat him. So it’s a mutually beneficial ‘do not discuss’ topic.

Glancing to the chair beside me, I notice that Maggie isn’t here yet. She’s almost always here before me. Weird.

Pulling out my laptop, I bring up yesterday’s notes and begin scanning over them when I feel a presence beside me. A familiar pair of glasses, auburn hair and timid smile greet me. I can’t help but smile back.

“Hi, Andrew,” I greet.

He nods, his eyes flicking from side to side.

“Hi, Skyla. I just wanted to check on you…after….you know,” he says, casting a nervous glance around him.

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