One More Chance (A Bedford Falls Novel Book 3) Page 4

  Up until now, Troy’s eyes appeared relaxed, but now they blazed. “Your dad’s a fucking asshole.” He lost the relaxed act. He tightened his grasp on her hips and clung to her. “Now give me what you want.”

  Her heartbeat pounded so fast that she feared it might explode in her chest. Only one thought bombarded her brain: she hoped—no, she prayed—that Scott Mettle was still in the building.

  Troy moved in, pressing close, pushing up against her until his face loomed an inch from hers. “Now show me how bad you want it!”

  A moment before he settled his lips against hers, Ashley let loose a piercing shriek so loud and so abrupt that Troy backed off immediately as if someone had blared a horn into his ears.

  But her reaction only heightened his anger: whereas he’d looked intent to get what he wanted only moments ago, he now appeared deranged, bent on hurting her.

  “Not nice, Ashley.” He pulled back a few inches, analyzing her. As though realizing that his face had manifested the rage inside him, Troy wiped a hand across his mouth, instantly replacing his animosity with a plastered-on smile. “You didn’t think I wanted to hurt you, did you?” As though she’d misunderstood his intentions, he backed off a bit more while shaking his head slowly. “No, no, no. We’re going to take things slow. Trust me, you’re going to enjoy this.”

  Ashley screamed again, hoping that Scott heard her. But she feared that he’d left her alone in an all but abandoned building.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The first time he’d heard that shrill voice, Scott’s muscles locked up, thinking that perhaps he’d misheard what he thought were cries for help. He stood there, listening, as he stored his guitar case in his locker. But the next time that same scream filtered through his brain, a klaxon of fright whipped him into motion, hurrying in the direction of the howling that sounded reminiscent of an animal under attack.

  But Scott had no illusions that an animal had infiltrated the school. He needed only a moment to recognize the screech as belonging to Ashley Lawford. And although he’d at first considered her as someone who wouldn’t have given him the time of day, he couldn’t deny that he had never seen her mistreat others.

  In contrast to the friends she hung out with, she’d acknowledged all who approached her. Even more extraordinary, she seemed sincere when doing so. Rather than give a weak wave of the hand, she smiled, looked even the biggest nerds at school in the eye, and chatted with them. Scott found it not only bizarre but unheard of. The most popular kids in school ignored those below their caste system, laughed at them, and most often tossed a few insults their way to put them in their place. But not Ashley.

  Indeed, she’d seemed genuinely interested last night at the restaurant. Same thing with his playing. More than that, based on the tears in her eyes, she felt the pain he’d released through his music. But rather than sympathize with his feelings, Ashley had empathized with him. It meant she’d experienced similar feelings, something that he hadn’t given any thought to.

  That surprised him. After all, it seemed that the most popular kids in school were spoiled brats who didn’t recognize how fortunate they were to live with parents who gave them whatever they wanted. Not that Scott sought that type of lifestyle. He’d have settled for a father who used a kind voice, rather than his fists when asking about his day, and a mother who… hadn’t died in a car accident years ago at the hands of a drunk driver.

  So it shocked him that Ashley had screamed for help, because who else besides a janitor would be in the building at this time of night? And since he couldn’t overlook the connection he shared with her, Scott found himself rushing down the steps of the stage and bursting through the gymnasium doors, sprinting toward her cries.

  As he rushed past the cafeteria and headed toward the hall, which featured a narrow corridor of lockers, Scott increased his speed, fearing that whoever attempted to hurt Ashley would need to be confronted sooner rather than later. And because he’d felt a strange but almost erotic connection with Ashley, he knew that if he failed to get to her in time, he would bear a large measure of guilt that he’d never be able to shake.

  So Scott raced down the hallway where he found Troy Morrison, babe-magnet and football player extraordinaire, pressing up against Ashley as he held her against the lockers, about to force his lips onto hers. From down the hall, Scott felt an injection of adrenaline throttling him forward.

  At any other time, he wouldn’t have dared to confront a muscular jock like Troy, who’d use his fists in any showdown and think about the consequences later. But seeing him follow that same pattern with a helpless young woman, Scott didn’t give any thought to how he’d handle the situation. He decided to let instinct guide him.

  Troy laughed as he neared her mouth, but hearing an unexpected visitor, he craned his neck in a slow manner, meeting Scott’s gaze with a delirious expression. “Get lost, prick!”

  Scott had no intention of shouting to frighten him (it wouldn’t work), nor did he want to yell to catch Troy’s attention (it would only heighten his animosity). Instead, he kept running toward him, without saying a word.

  “Are you fucking kidding?” Troy asked with an amused grin. He slid a hand across the top of Ashley’s head, pushing his fingers through her hair. His smile grew wider. Then he slammed her head against the locker behind her.

  Scott regarded victimizing a woman or child as degrading as inflicting pain upon a harmless animal. It set off a fuse of rage through his veins, throttling him forward.

  Troy, whose smile still elicited complete confidence that their upcoming battle would end in easy victory, faced Scott and welcomed him forward with bared fists.

  At any other time, Scott wouldn’t have given the least bit of thought to taking on this challenge. Doing so would result in an all-inclusive stay at the hospital, courtesy of the most brutal football player at Bedford Falls’ High School. In the back of his mind, Scott knew he faced almost certain defeat if he stood up to Troy.

  But an image of Ashley’s delicate, almost shy smile, appeared behind his eyes, silently disclosing that she also hid plenty of pain and more than a fair share of shame. And it was that look, carrying all of those conflicting thoughts, which compelled him toward Troy.

  He didn’t care that Troy was bigger or that he’d gotten into several fights in his lifetime, or so rumors led Scott to believe. He didn’t care that, no matter what happened afterwards, Troy would pass along details of their fight, so everyone in school would soon know the result.

  Furthermore, he’d bet that Troy would reverse their positions to make Scott look like the one who planned to harm Ashley, while regarding himself as her protector. Scott cared about only one thing: getting in a few good shots for mistreating Ashley.

  So with only a few feet between them, Scott dodged a left hook and slammed a right cross into Troy’s left eye, eliciting a grunt of pain and sending him sideways a moment before crashing into the lockers, only inches from Ashley, who let out a scream and jumped out of the way.

  The force that Scott put into that one punch sent him against the lockers as well. Straightening, he hurried towards Troy, because even the slightest bit of hesitation would give his opponent time to re-evaluate and attack.

  “Go,” he shouted to Ashley, hoping she’d rush to safety.

  Troy regained his balance, and as he faced Scott, a determined glare surfaced. “You’re dead!”

  Calling out to Ashley robbed Scott of a follow-up assault, and now he and Troy would square off face-to-face. He got into a fighting stance.

  “Hey!” a voice shouted out behind him.

  Scott guessed that the custodian, who’d been vacuuming down the hall, momentarily shut off the vacuum after hearing them crash into the lockers. The man’s voice came from behind him, but Scott had no intention of placing his attention anywhere but on Troy, who flicked his irritated expression from Scott to the man behind him, looking uncertain if he should; retreat or attack.

  “School’s closed,” said the cu
stodian. “Get gone. All of you.”

  Troy placed a few fingers to his left eyebrow and winced. A white indent took shape at that spot. He nodded at the custodian as he said to Scott, “Lucky he saved you.” A demented, lopsided smile formed on his face. He shook his head while a slow smirk developed. “But come next week, I’m going to find you.” He spun around, spotted Ashley, and sniffed. “Cock tease.” Then he walked away.

  Out of breath from having rushed down the hall, with adrenaline charging through his system, Scott appreciated that the custodian had arrived to break up the fight. But just as Troy had warned, Scott wouldn’t be so lucky next time. Troy’s creepy smirk revealed that he would want revenge, and he’d do whatever it took to get it. Scott didn’t even want to consider when, and with whom, Troy might come after him.

  But taking one look at Ashley’s concerned expression made him realize that, no matter how Troy retaliated, Scott had no regrets in coming between them.

  “You too!” said the custodian. “Time to go.”

  Scott walked over to Ashley and checked her for any bruises. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said with downcast eyes. She’d crossed her arms tight across her chest as though warding off anyone who might wish her harm. “I just want to go home.”

  “Then I’m taking you there.”

  Ashley took in a deep breath to say otherwise.

  Scott interrupted before she could get a word in: “I’m seeing that you get home safe.”

  She stared at his intense stare, and perhaps seeing his determination to do just that, gave in by nodding. Disbelief crossed her face. “I don’t know what came over him.” As though a chill passed over her, Ashley’s arms and legs began to tremble as she stood in place.

  “I don’t know either,” Scott said. “But it was evil.”

  “I can’t go home yet.” She glanced down at her arms. “If my dad sees me like this… he’ll get worried. I don’t want him to—”

  “You shouldn’t hide something like this,” Scott said. Yet he’d failed to live up to that same standard, over the past decade, hadn’t he? Granted, he’d been a child at the time, but he should have told someone: a teacher or another parent or even a stranger… someone. But deep down, Scott knew that if he did, his father would have quickly turned that aggression onto him.

  He stared at the ground. “No one should have to hide… something like that.”

  Ashley came up to him. “Are you okay?” Her jitters had abated somewhat.

  Scott circled the knuckles of his right hand with his other palm. “That was the first time I ever hit someone.” He looked up at her with a half-smile. “It felt good.” He couldn’t suppress the pride in his voice. Not because he’d punched out the most popular guy in school, but because he’d stood up for what he felt was right.

  “He’ll want payback, you know.”

  “Yeah.” But the memory of dodging Troy’s assault, only to strike back and hit his target, would linger longer than any beating Troy might administer in the future.

  “We should go,” Ashley said.

  Scott liked how she’d included him in that statement. “I have an idea. A place to talk… if you’re up for it.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Ashley hadn’t hesitated, which suggested that she felt comfortable in his presence. And her interest in joining him at a place he hadn’t elaborated upon told Scott that she trusted him.

  They made their way outside into the parking lot, and he stopped beside his shiny, old black Harley Sportster. No longer seeing Ashley beside him, Scott turned around.

  The sight of that bike made her stop short. Her breath grew quick. “I don’t think I’m ready for that. I don’t have a helmet. And don’t those things kill people?”

  “People kill people,” he said with a gentle smile. “Motorcycles don’t.”

  “My dad rides a bike,” she said, measuring her words, “but I never…” She shook her head.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, getting on the bike and plugging the key into its socket. “I’ve been riding for almost two years now. I know what I’m doing.”

  Ashley stared at the bike as though she distrusted any vehicle without four wheels.

  “We’ll be fine.” Scott got on the bike and turned back to her. “Trust me.”

  She examined his eyes for a long moment. “I think I’d rather walk.”

  It seemed she didn’t trust him as much as he’d originally thought. But he didn’t hold that against her. If she’d never gotten on a bike with her own father, how could he expect her to do so with someone she just met?

  “Okay,” he said, starting up the bike. Over the idling engine, Scott turned to Ashley and pretended to start talking, acting as though the rough engine drowned out his words.

  “I can’t hear you,” Ashley shouted.

  Scott pointed to his ears and shrugged, giving the impression that he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. He watched Ashley as she stared at the bike, weighing the pros and cons of perhaps getting on.

  “Trust me,” Scott said once more, this time loud enough to be heard.

  Although Ashley looked intimidated by the sound of the engine, she’d looked into his eyes, judging whether she could do just that. She rushed toward the bike and got on behind him, probably in an effort not to second-guess her decision. She fastened her arms tight around his waist.

  Scott hadn’t taken anyone for a ride on his bike before. He’d dated a number of girls over the past couple years, but he didn’t feel a strong enough connection with any of them to take on his bike. The way he saw it, riding with someone made a statement. That person had to mean something special to him. And although he didn’t even know Ashley, Scott felt that she would play an important part in his life.

  She scooted closer to him, allowing him to catch a whiff of that sweet tangerine scent that seemed to cling to her. It awakened his senses. For a moment, he wanted to turn around, pull her toward him, and plunge his face into her hair just to feel the closeness that had so far eluded him.

  Scott started out riding slow and felt Ashley tighten her grip around his waist. He didn’t want to give her any reason to distrust him, so he took it easy through the streets, going almost ten miles per hour under the speed limit. When he hit a bump, she lost her breath from the sudden jolt. She moved closer to him, now prying her body against his.

  It made his breath catch in his throat. He wondered what it would feel like to have her cling to him while he faced her. In that scenario, he’d match the fierceness of her touch, eager to hold her in his arms, to make sure no other man got that close to her again.

  The nature of that possessive thought zapped him back to concentrate on the road. After all, even though he’d seen her around school for years, he’d never really given any thought to Ashley until half an hour ago. And in that time, he’d already begun feeling protective of her, as well as entertained lust-driven images that took great effort to push from his mind.

  Moments later, he parked outside a diner named The Cocktail Hour and felt a pang of disappointment as she un-wrapped her arms from around his waist. He already began looking forward to the next time she’d hold him tight like that.

  “That wasn’t so bad.” Ashley’s facial expression, however, revealed that she was relieved to have faced one of her fears. “Maybe even a little fun.”

  Scott almost laughed at the contrast between what she said and how she looked. “Good,” he said, eager to challenge her. “Next time, we’ll actually go the speed limit.” He led her toward the restaurant entrance.

  “But we were going at least forty miles an hour.”

  He cracked a smile. “Not really, speed demon. Didn’t you see how that grandmother driving a station wagon left us in the dust?”

  “Are you kidding? We were up against death-defying odds.”

  “At twenty miles an hour?”

  He opened the restaurant door for Ashley and followed her inside. A few individ
uals sat at the front counter chatting, while a handful of others sat at rectangular tables scattered throughout the room. Framed black and white photographs of farmlands, canyons, mountains, and other nature-infused settings lined the walls as hushed tones permeated the air that smelled of cinnamon and burnt toast. Scott led her to a booth at the middle of the building—so they could look out the window.

  He’d never visited this place before—partly because a lot of retired folks often congregated here for bingo, book discussions, and sewing groups—and because visiting Bedford Falls, rather than its neighboring community—and his hometown, Vista Heights, made it seem like he’d entered an episode of Leave it to Beaver.

  The town was too big for everyone to be on a first name basis. Still, residents took pleasure in helping one another, whether they were setting up Christmas lights, preparing the town square for a Fourth of July celebration, or organizing community members to meet for town meetings.

  Nevertheless, Scott preferred to live in reality, so after he left school each day, he didn’t otherwise step foot in Bedford Falls… until today. But only because he wanted to learn more about Ashley, specifically the side she’d briefly shown him – that of a troubled young woman. As one of the most popular girls in school, and one of the most intelligent students in school, who had a knack for selecting outfits that others imitated and enough talent in acting to pursue a career in Hollywood, Ashley seemed to have it all.

  But Scott suspected otherwise. He just didn’t know what led to that temperament. And he was determined to find out what haunted her, because he got the impression that unlocking that secret would give him a greater understanding of exactly what made Ashley tick.

  Scott held out his arm before an open booth, and after she took one side, he slid into the spot opposite her. “So you’ve confronted one death-defying fear today. What’s next? Skydiving? Parasailing? Bungee-jumping?”

  “No, I already did all that. I’m working my way backwards. Next up: demolition derby.”