Page 8 of Ashes to Ash’s

His breath washed over my lips. “You want this, don’t you? You’ve been pushing me away for fucking months, and what you really want is me kissing you. You want my tongue in your mouth. That’s what you’re gonna get, babe.” Babe?! What the fuck?

Before I could stop him, his lips pressed against mine, and his hand moved from the wall, cupping the back of my head, as he tried to turn the kiss into something deeper, more intense. Something even more wrong. No! I had to stop him. My parents would literally crucify me!

I shoved him back, and he cursed under his breath, having moved barely a step away.

“Fucking repressed little shit,” he hissed, reaching for me again. I panicked. I’m not ashamed to admit that. Whatever tiny part of me was fascinated with Ash and his advances, I had to suppress it, or face literal hell.

I started struggling with him and fighting him, and when punches started to fly, that’s when things got out of hand. Fast.

I hit him first, my fist crashing into his jaw, and he smirked as he rubbed his fingers over it.

“That’s hot. My turn.”

He threw a punch, hitting me in the cheek, and then we started tussling with each other, our bodies crashing onto the hard concrete, as we both tried to claim the upper hand. Ash was smiling the entire time, and that just made me want to make him hurt, because he was enjoying this, even as he risked my entire future.

Chapter Six

Ash

Having my parents called to collect me from A&E was beyond embarrassing, because of course they wanted to know all kinds of things, like why wasn’t I at home studying, and why was I getting into fights, and who knocked me against the wall and caused me to black out. I wouldn’t tell them who, but I knew dad Gray knew.

As soon as we were home, he said he’d get me settled in my room, which was absolutely necessary, since I couldn’t seem to walk straight right now. I was on some really strong painkillers, which actually made me not give a shit about anything except how comfy my bed was.

“What happened, kid? This was the boy you like? He did this to you?” I sighed, leaning against my pillow, and wincing when the bruised side of my face pressed against the soft padding.

“Cal… he’s so pretty… why doesn’t he love me, dad?”

Dad adjusted my pillows and sat on the side of my bed.

“The boy you like is Cal? Callum Jeffries?” I nodded, sighing at the thought of him. I kissed him. My lips touched his. He never let me get my tongue in his mouth, but I wouldn’t ever stop trying.

“Do you know who his parents are, Ash?”

I shrugged, because who gives a fuck about stuff like that. Love is love. I’d make him love me.

“Ash, his parents are the craziest fucking godbotherers you’ll ever meet. You remember that big row your mum and dad had with someone at the open night at your school? That was them trying to dictate to us about how ungodly and satanic our fucking relationship is. They’re total nutjobs.”

Huh. Nutjobs. I wanted to do that. It sounded like fun. I had nuts and I wanted them jobbed.

“Ash, try and focus on me. If this boy isn’t receptive, it might be because of his upbringing, or pressure they’re putting on him to be what they consider to be ‘normal’.”

Normal. I didn’t even know what the word meant, but it didn’t matter, because whether love was normal or not for his parents, it was happening, and I’d have him for my own. It’d take time, but it’d happen.

“I’ll have him,” I murmured sluggishly, as the pills started to drag me into a sleepy fog.

“Yeah, you will, kiddo. Just try not to get into fights with him again. His parents will have him in some fucking cult somewhere before you can blink.”

I fell asleep, and my dreams were a twisted mess, with Callum beating me senseless, and hooded figures taking me away, while he laughed and laughed. Why did he hate me so much? Why did he let them take me?

“You okay, son? You were yelling out,” dad Dory said, smoothing my hair back from my damp forehead as I blinked dazed eyes at him.

“Uh… bad dream, I guess,” I muttered, glancing around us as if to make sure this really was my room, and there were no hooded figures behind him. I felt like those dreams still had hold of me, probably thanks to the meds.

“Your mum said she’ll bring you some dinner in a little bit, so I thought I’d make sure you’re awake and mostly coherent,” he said with a grin, as he helped me sit up. Now that the pills seemed to be wearing off, everything was hurting again. My head, my neck, my back where I’d crashed against the wall, and my ass where I’d landed so heavily. I’d twisted my right wrist trying to brace myself as I fell, and that was throbbing too. It was bandaged up, so I couldn’t see it, but it felt like it was pulsing with pain.

“Dad?”

He raised his eyebrows at me, sitting on the bed.