Page 1 of Ash
Prologue
ASH
Did I just see a hot chick running down the road with a live chicken under her arm?
I blink my eyes in disbelief as I watch the long-legged, silver-haired woman continue to run down the road, at three-thirty in the god damn morning with a fucking live ass chicken tucked protectively under her arm. I go to shift my parked car into drive to ask her if she needs help–of any kind–when—where the fuck is she?
Pulling back onto the shoulder, I step out of my Tesla and look around just in time for a loud pickup to screech up next to me. I watch as a man around my build, though a little shorter, walks over to me. The unmistakable look of murderous rage directed at me.What the fuck did I do?
“Where is she?” he snarls as he grabs me by my shirt and shoves me against my car. I allow it, only because I don’t know how many others he has in the truck and I need to be in one piece for Indy.
“Dude! Where is who? I am by myself!” I hold my hands up in mock surrender as I see the doors open at the front of his truck. Three more. All built like him, and they have the same angry looks on their faces. I can hold my own, but fighting four large men is asking a bit too much.
“I know you are helping that dumb hillbilly steal my chicken!” he accuses, and I sigh in relief. I knew I wasn’t hallucinating! What in the actual fuck is going on? Who steals a fucking chicken? Or getsthismad over a chicken?
“Sir, I can assure you, I have not seen a hillbilly or a chicken, or a hillbilly with a chicken. I did, however, nearly hit a deer, so I pulled over to calm down.” I state as I look at his dirty fists still clenched around my shirt. I mean, it’s fucking Hugo Boss, asshole. Can you not fucking wrinkle it? The man lets me go as he backs away from me before signaling to his buddies to get back in the truck.
Once they speed off, I slip back into my car and take a breath to calm my nerves. Touching the screen on my dash, I bring up the number of my best friend and call him while I practice my finger tapping technique to settle down.
“H-hello?” The groggy male voice answers.
“Rise and shine, hubby! How are we doing?” I say through my fake perkiness to hide the panic attack I can feel coming. I take another deep breath before merging back onto the road to head home.
“Ash… it’s… Jesus Christ, man, it’s almost four in the morning,” Atlas groans and I hear rustling followed by him whispering, “It’s okay, princess, go back to sleep, it’s just Ash.” God, Atlas and his lovesick obsession with his wife, Ren. I mean, good for them. No one deserves happiness quite like Atlas, but flying solo this past year has been hard. Atlas is married, and our other friend and boss, Fox, is engaged to the co-owner of the tattoo shop we work at, Hel’s Ink. And Derek, our fourth amigo, is the king of doom and possibly a virgin, I think… I don’t really know.
So, it’s just me out here trying to meet up with southern Cali’s finest and get laid. No strings, no commitments. Just sex. And absolutely no overnights.
“So, why are you calling me at this god-awful hour?” Atlas says through a yawn.
“Okay, so I’m driving home, right? And as I–”
“You are driving home? Alone?” Atlas questions, and I roll my eyes. “Did you strike out?”
“I don’t strike out,” I grumble. Though the truth is, I am sort of in a dry spell. It’s been three weeks, and for me that’s an eternity. “Indy is at the hospital,” I confess, hating to talk about my sick sister, but I know Atlas won’t shower me with pity or run his mouth about it.
“Damn,” he says softly. “For how long?”
I rub the tight pain in my chest as I take another breath. “Probably just the weekend. She’s okay, stable. I just had to take her laptop and stuff to her. But anyway,” I force myself to sound excited again as I push thoughts of coming home from work to get ready to go out, only to find Indy unconscious on the floor. “So, I’m driving home, and I see this hot as fuck dime piece running down the street and, At, I shit you not, she has a chicken tucked under her fucking arm!”
There is a beat of silence before I hear Atlas sigh. “Okay, so you’re high.”
“I’m not high!” I yell as I pull into the parking garage of my apartment building. “I’m serious!”
“Yeah… uh, huh. Good night, Ash.” Atlas hangs the phone up before I can respond, and I’m left again in the suffocating silence, alone with my own thoughts and feelings.
I look at the elevator that will take me to my quiet, empty apartment. The thought causes me to rub my chest again. I grab my phone and pull up a hookup app. Maybe I can find a late-night booty call so I don’t have to be home alone.
Chapter1
Sunday
THREE MONTHS LATER
“Wade Michael Sutton!” I open my son’s door as I look in his pigsty of a room.
“Whaaa?” I hear him groan from under a pile of blankets, dirty clothes, and Alice Cooper.
“Son, what did I say about that chicken sleeping with you? She has a coop outside!” I growl as I make to grab the asshole bird. Wade’s all black hen, Alice Cooper, is having none of it though. Since the night I rescued the bitch from becoming a meal for my ex, she’s had it in for me. Rightfully so I guess, I did run seven miles with a death grip on her.
