Page 42 of Unholy

“Put that down. It’s not worth your own life,” my dad tells him. Tristan laughs now.

“Oh, you thought this was about me? Oh no. This isn’t about me. It’s about you,” he says, pulling the gun from his head and pointing it at my dad. I gasp, unsure what he might do because I know how much Tristan hates anyone touching me.

“What? What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“When I fucked your little girl, I said to myself, no one is going to hurt her again. No one but me that is. And then you come back, swinging your little whip around and forcing her to kneel on the broomstick while I, on the other hand, force her to kneel for my cock,” he tells him. I’m embarrassed. I don’t know what to say or what to do. How to act. I’m just numb at this point.

“You what?” He yells as he steps toward Tristan but quickly rethinks it since he’s still aiming the gun at him.

“Ash, go pack a bag,” Tristan tells me. I quickly move through the room and fill a bag of my things before moving to stand by the door. “This was the last time, Ted. The last time you’ll see her and certainly the last time you’ll hurt her. If I ever, and I mean ever, catch you coming near her, well, you’re a dead man.”

“You can’t take her!”

“She’s twenty-one, and she’s mine now! You hear me? Mine! She no longer has to live under your sick little rules. She no longer has to hide who she truly is. Try and stop me, and I swear to God this will be the best murder and suicide that you’ve ever seen.” The anger in him is almost palpable. It’s almost as if I could reach out and run my fingers through his darkness right now and there’s a part of me that hurts for him. A part of me that screams to help him and do whatever I can to protect him and keep him safe.

Tristan walks backward, leaving my dad standing there stunned before turning to his mom.

“One hand on you, and you call me.” She nods her head not bothering with arguing with him. He presses a kiss to her cheekand then motions for me to leave the room. I do so, quickly hurrying back to the front door, where Tristan follows.

We make it outside, and then we’re heading to his bike as he shoves the gun into the back of his jeans. I grab the helmet and pull it on before climbing on behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist. This insane. I’ve never seen anything like what just happened here.

I hold on tightly while he pulls out of the driveway and takes off. I can tell by the direction we’re going that we’re headed back to the warehouse.

Chapter 19

Tristan

I pace the fucking floor with the unloaded gun in my hand, pressing it against my temple. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing right now as Ash sits in the chair, curled into herself, watching me. She doesn’t know it’s not a loaded weapon anymore. It was at the house, and I regret not pulling the fucking trigger and taking her dad out.

I’m rambling to myself about what the fuck I’m going to do now because if he’s willing to do that to Ash, why wouldn’t he be doing it to my mom?

“I should have just done it. I should have shot him,” I repeat for probably the fifth time in a row now.

“No, you shouldn’t. I wouldn’t have anyone then,” Ash adds to my thoughts.

“You don’t need me, Ash. What the fuck?” I ask her.

“You don’t think so? Then what am I doing here?” she yells at me.

“You’re here because I want you here!”

“And you don’t care what I want? Right? You only care about what you want,” she yells at me.

“It’s not that you and know it.”

“Then what is it?”

“Ash, how? How can you want someone like me? Huh?”

“How could I not is the better question.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I tell her.

“Tristan, don’t you get it? I love you.” Now I laugh. There’s no fucking way she loves me. No one can love me. Not even I can love me.

“Don’t laugh!” She yells as she climbs out of the chair and storms toward me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ash this mad and I think I might like it.

“Why not?”

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