Moonlight upon the Sea - Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Keely Daniels’ house was huge.

Not like, mansion huge. But it was big. Big enough to provide ample space enough for a party. Ash had been to her two-story suburban home countless times, given that every time the sports teams wanted to throw a party, they did it at her house. Her parents were always traveling for work.

The music was loud, there were orange and purple string lights strung up, and Halloween decorations adorned wherever Ash looked. Everyone stood in the hallways and rooms, red cups in hand and smiles on their faces. Ash received a few weird looks, as he’d only ever come to parties like these in the past to sell drugs, but he ignored them. His gaze scanned every face he passed, looking for Tayshia.

Because why else was he here?

Elijah and Ash went to the kitchen first, grabbing some drinks. Ash didn’t really like the taste of alcohol anymore but he took a shot anyway. Elijah was the designated driver, so he was the one who was going to be drinking soda all night.

“Do they have diet?” Elijah said as he rummaged through the cans on the counter.

“Why do you need diet soda?”

“I like the taste better. The sugary sodas do so much shit to your body. Ah, here—diet.” Elijah opened it and took a drink, then smirked at him. “I thought you hated alcohol.”

“I do,” Ash said as he poured a second shot of tequila, “but I’m in a house full of people who hate me. I’m thinking I need it.”

He tipped back the second shot, the burning pulling his brows together as his facial expression twisted. He coughed and shook his head out. Two was his limit, not for the taste, but for the fact that he would likely get tipsy off of those two.

“Nasty.”

Elijah laughed. “I’ll never understand you.”

“It’s for the best.”

Ash grabbed a can of soda and led the way out of the kitchen. They passed a group of senior girls as they went. The girls’ conversation fell quiet as they walked by—another thing for Ash to ignore. He wasn’t sure if Crystal Springs was ever going to forget about what he and his father had done. He had a feeling that it was something that would follow him for the rest of his life if he didn’t find the strength to leave. Not that he wanted to leave, necessarily. Crystal Springs was his home.

But no one wanted him here.

“So, how’s things going?” Elijah asked, one hand in the pocket of his jeans and the other wrapped around his soda.

They’d found a corner in the crowded living room. It was far enough away from the second living room—which had the speakers—that the music was a bit less loud. No one was dancing in here, though the room was nearly packed to the walls.

And Tayshia was in the center.

She stood with a group of her friends, an assortment of girls and guys who all had drinks and were laughing. Ash noticed that she had no drink but that it didn’t seem to deter her from smiling and having a good time. It was almost strange to see her look so animated when at school, she floated about like a haunt. And at home, she was moody and irritable.

But here she was, and she was alive.

“They’re fine,” Ash said, sipping his soda. “And you?”

Elijah shrugged. “Things are fine with me, I guess. My mom’s the one who’s struggling.”

Ash frowned, tearing his gaze off of Tayshia’s back.

“What? What’s wrong? Is she sick?”

“No, it’s just finances. Things are always like, tight. Every month starts promising and then bam, we end up in shit halfway through the month.”

“Fuck, that sucks, man.” Ash’s gaze slid back to Tayshia. She was pushing her curls behind her ear, speaking almost conspiratorially with her friend beside her. He recognized her from one of his pre-req classes but couldn’t remember her name. “Did the bills go up?”

“No, they’re just always stressful. I mean, my mom’s a night nurse. She doesn’t make that much.”

Ash glanced at Elijah, but he was looking out at the crowd. “I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

“Yeah.” Elijah took a drink of his soda and then sighed. “I wish my dad would help but he’s got the new wife, new kids, new house…you know how it is.”

Tayshia and her friend were now talking to the guy to the left of her, all three of them laughing uproariously at something. The guy was like, Nick or Rick or something. Ash never was good with names. He remembered him from tenth grade Biology.

“I still can’t believe he doesn’t have to pay child support,” Ash said. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Tell me about it,” Elijah said. “It’s like, he got to cheat on my mom and then just bounce. Now we’re the ones suffering, while he gets to live this amazing life with this swanky new job. He’s making so much money, dude.”

“Weak.”

“I mean, my mom is always overextending herself. She works way too many hours and they never pay her overtime. Look at what she did for you—she paid for your mom’s stuff.” Elijah threw up a hand. “That was like thousands for everything. Like, you paid for the headstone, which was great and everything. But for the spot in the cemetery and the whole thing? It was just a lot.”

Why was Tayshia okay with this dude touching her like that? Why wasn’t she snapping at him like she did with Ash? Why wasn’t she pushing him away or standing up for herself?

“No, your mom’s a saint, dude,” Ash said. “She’s a saint.”

“Yeah, she really is.” Elijah laughed. “Not like we can just ask for the money back from you, or anything.”

“Yeah, that’d be kinda fucked,” Ash said, distracted by the fact that the guy’s hand was on Tayshia’s upper back, rubbing up and down while he said something to her.

“It wasn’t like you knew she had the life insurance paying out to you. I’m sure if you did, you would have sent my mom the money.”

“Oh, for sure.”

Ash wasn’t exactly paying attention. He was more focused on the things that no one else could see.

Ash knew Tayshia. She didn’t like to be touched.

Something sinister and as hot as molten rock started to twist its way through his gut, spreading throughout his body in a way that made his teeth clench. His hand tightened around his soda, nearly squeezing the can.

Why was she letting Nick-Rick-what’s-his-fuck touch her?

Tayshia reached behind her to gently push the guy’s hand away, the two of them still chatting quite amiably. The guy didn’t seem to be perturbed by it. In fact, it seemed to be making them both laugh. Ash could almost read her lips. It looked like she was flirtatiously telling him to stop.

“Anyway, I’m sure we’ll be fine. My mom can always call the power company and postpone, or write a letter to the landlord. There’s like, options and stuff. I don’t wanna bore you with it. You don’t have to worry about any of this stuff.”

“Don’t even worry about it, man. It’s cool.” Ash kept his eyes Nick-Rick's hand. “You guys have it really rough, so I get it. You gotta vent.”

“Well, it’s just like…I mean, you probably never have to worry about being late on bills again.” Elijah let out another laugh. “I can’t even imagine what that’s like. It must be nice.”

“It’s whatever.”

As Tayshia turned back to face her friend, to say something to her, Nick-Rick grabbed her shoulder. He forced her back around, laughing as he did so. It was clear that the idiot thought he was flirting. That he thought what he was doing was okay or warranted or wanted.

But Ash could see it on her face. A momentary slip of the mask. Her gaze snapping down to the guy’s hand as it returned to her back, and then up to his face with wariness.

There was a flash.

A flash in Ash’s memory, of a hand curving around Tayshia’s shoulder. A hand, whipping her around and slamming her up against a brick wall. Ash, being trapped inside of her body, inside of a memory, inside of a nightmare, and feeling those bricks digging in deep.

“Hold my drink.”

“What?” Elijah was slow to react. “Why?”

“Hold my fucking drink.” Ash slammed his can into Elijah’s chest, his eyes glued to the guy’s hand as he started forward.

He’d made it two steps.

Two steps.

In that span of time, Tayshia had reached behind herself to push the guy’s hand away. Two steps, and the guy had simply moved his hand to her opposite hip. As she stumbled against his side and looked up at him, Ash could see that her facial expression was no longer happy or alive or flirtatious.

"Nick, stop." Her mouth clearly formed the words. "Seriously."

And then Ash was there.

The crowd seemed to have parted for him as he made his way through, everyone staring as Ash grabbed the guy by the shoulder, spun him around, and pointed at him with two angry fingers.

“Touch her again, and I knock your teeth out.”

The guy’s eyes widened in incredulity as he looked Ash up and down. “Are you kidding me? What the Hell is your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem unless we have a problem,” Ash said, gesturing between their chests. “And if you touch her again, then we have a definite fucking problem.”

The guy scoffed and then, without another word, shoved Ash back by the shoulders. Stumbling back, Ash nearly slammed into Tayshia. Around them, everyone was watching, talking amongst themselves about Ash, speaking over the music about how unsurprised they were that he was acting like this.

Ash was known for his temper. He’d always had a temper, ever since he was little. From tantrums as a toddler to destroying his room in elementary school, to getting into fights at lunch clear until he was eighteen, it was well-known in Crystal Springs that he wasn’t someone to mess with if drama wasn’t wanted. That temper had followed him to jail, where he’d been in so many fights that by the time he befriended the tattoo artist, every nurse on rotation in the infirmary knew his name, birthday, and favorite things.

It wasn’t something that built within him, like with normal people who simply allowed their rage to build and build without ever letting it out. He wasn’t the type to let things go. When Ash got angry, he acted on it immediately, without thinking about the consequences. It was more important to him that he get his point across.

At the moment, getting his point across to Nick with the knuckles of his left fist was extremely important.

Ash lunged forward with a snarl, aiming a left hook to the center of Nick’s face that sent him reeling backward. Nick came back with a hook of his own, his fist connecting with Ash’s cheek. Ash’s rage grew and exploded outward through his body, pumping his adrenaline to new heights.

Fists were flying, teeth were gnashing. The crowd was moving out of their way. They were crashing into tables, knocking over home décor that was likely priceless. Ash was taller than Nick but thinner, so they were matched speed-to-strength. Nick could slam him into the wall so hard that he lost his breath. Ash could duck faster than Nick could blink, striking him under the jaw with sharp knuckles and more than enough vehemence for the both of them.

Ash supposed he was overreacting a little bit. After all, it was just a hand on her shoulder, right?

Except that it wasn’t just a hand. Because if it was just a hand, then her nightmare wouldn’t have been what it was. Paris wouldn’t have happened. If it was just a hand, then Tayshia’s mask wouldn’t have slipped. That fear wouldn’t have been in her eyes when she looked up at Nick. That fear wouldn’t exist within her at all.

And as he got Nick onto his back in the center of a crowd of jeering college students, punching him in the face again and again, all Ash could think about was the fact that Nick deserved this.

He’d touched Tayshia.

“Absolutely not! No the fuck you are not doing this in my parents’ house!”

Keely came storming into the room, peeling the crowd apart as she did so. Her arms were stretched above her head as she clapped her hands loud enough to hurt eardrums. She looked livid. Her head shook from left to right.

Ash froze, blood dripping from where Nick’s nails had caught him near the temple. His fist was reared back, stained with red from Nick’s nose. He panted for breath, disoriented from how angry he was.

Elijah was beside him with his hands on Ash’s arm, telling him it was okay and to get up. Tayshia was standing there, looking simultaneously furious and horrified.

“Out, Ash," Keely said. "You need to leave. Elijah can stay, but you’ve gotta go.”

Ash stood there, wiping blood from his own nose with the back of one tattooed hand.

“Ash, now,” Tayshia snapped, glaring at him. “Come on.”

To Ash’s surprise, Tayshia turned and started pushing through the other partygoers. They all looked shocked, their eyebrows rising as she beckoned Ash after her. Ash looked down at Elijah.

“I’m gonna stay,” Elijah said, kneeling beside Nick to help him sit up. He grimaced. “Probably for the best. Can you make it home?”

“Yeah,” Ash said, voice monotone. He looked at Keely. “Sorry.”

“Just go, you fucking asshole,” came her reply. She was too busy focusing on Nick with concern in her eyes. “I don’t even know why you came here.”

That stung. Keely used to be his friend.

Ash turned and followed Tayshia, his face burning from the sheer amount of eyes that were on him, watching him. He liked to tell himself he was used to it but he didn’t think he was. Knowing that there was hatred behind their gazes was enough to make his skin crawl.

Outside, they made their way down the cobblestone driveway and towards the gate. Tayshia was enraged; he could tell from the way she was walking with her arms crossed over her chest and her kinky curls bounced. Ash wasn’t too happy himself but he didn’t regret what he’d done.

Nick deserved it.

“You probably ecstatic, huh?” Tayshia said when they were on the sidewalk, standing next to one of the many cars parked on the road. The music from the party was still audible, though faint and muffled. “Just Ash Robards, doing whatever the fuck he wants, whenever the fuck he wants.”

“Yeah, and? He touched you,” Ash said, wiping his nose again. The blood stained the sleeve of his striped shirt.

"Now, Ashley." She spun to face him, anger palpable in the air as she glowered up at him. “Except that Nick is my friend. You can’t just beat the shit out of my friends!”

Ash took a step toward her. “So what you’re saying is you wanted him to touch you?”

“I wanted...” She scowled and looked away for a second. “No, I don’t like being touched. I’ve told you that. But he’s my friend and I know he wouldn’t hurt me. In any case, that doesn’t give you the right to attack my friends!”

“Men should not put their hands on you.”

“Men? Or just men who aren’t you?”

“Men should not put their fucking hands on you, Tayshia!” he snarled. “What the Hell is wrong with you? You didn’t want him to touch you. You didn’t ask for him to touch you. And then he touches you and now you’re defending him?”

“Okay, but you don’t even know if I was in my feelings like that!” she yelled, waving her hands about in her anger. “You don’t know. That’s what I’m saying: you don’t know me like that. So who are you to jump in and start running up on people to defend me when I was fine?!”

“I’m your friend, too.”

“No, you’re not!" she shrieked. “Not if you’re gonna be attacking all of my other friends.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Ash tangled his fingers in his hair, his anger and frustration shooting up to the stars. “I saw you. You pushed his hand away. When he grabbed you, you looked terrified. You told him to stop. How are you so focused on the fact that I beat his ass? He deserved it!”

“I’m not worried about him touching me, or me being scared! It wasn’t even like that! I’m worried about the fact that you’re angry and violent and you attacked my friend!"

“You’re telling me you’re completely fine with the fact that he touched you, all because I fought him?”

“Yes.”

Ash’s shock rendered him speechless.

Tayshia was delusional. She was so delusional that she thought that it was more important to protect the friend who harmed her than to admit he was treating her poorly. She was standing there, glaring up at him while she fought for the right to keep Nick, the guy who’d just assaulted her safe.

That was fucked.

“I’m over here, trying to protect you,” Ash said, pointing to himself with both of his hands, “and you’re over there, letting people treat you like shit, and for what? For what, Tayshia?” He spread his arms. “So you can keep guys around you who don’t give a fuck about you?”

Her gaze cut like twin daggers beneath the moonlight that shone high above them. “My friends care about me.”

“I care about you.” Ash crossed the remaining distance toward her, heedless of the fact that she was moving backward to get away from him. Heedless of the fact that her back had hit the side of a random car. He pressed against her, throwing aside decorum and reaching to push her hair behind one ear. He cupped the side of her face, a desperate look marring his features as he gazed down at her. “I’m the one that cares about you the way you deserve to be cared about. I’m the one that knows why no one but me should be touching you.”

Tayshia’s face grew pinched for a moment and then, like lightning, her anger was back. With eyes like ice chips and a frown that covered up her despair, she continued to glare at him.

“Then maybe you should have found it in your heart to care about me before.”

“I did find it in my heart to care about you before. I just didn’t have the strength to show it until after.”

“Good to know my trauma brought you strength.”

“Your trauma brought me nothing but pain.”

They stared at one another, the silence aching like the space between each star in the sky. Aching like the eternal loneliness of the cosmos. Aching the way his heart did when he thought about the way she’d wept in that hotel room.

“It really happened, didn’t it?” he asked, his voice a broken whisper. “It was real?”

She said nothing, choosing only to nod.

Ash’s heart hurt. He tipped his head back, looking up at the sky for a moment as he struggled to control his desire to burst into tears. He knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t his memory. He didn’t have the right to commandeer her pain.

He could only share it.

“And you know I was in—”

She nodded, so he stopped. The confirmation was all that he needed.

“I attacked your friend because I can’t stand the sight of anyone’s hands on you,” Ash said, the heel of his palm pressing to her jaw so he could tilt her face up. She watched him like she was thirsty and she wanted to drink the sea. “Because I can’t stand the sight of anyone touching you like that ever again.”

“Why?”

“Because if I could have used my hands,” he whispered, his nose brushing hers for a moment, “then that man would be dead.”

Tayshia squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away. It slipped out of Ash’s hold, her curls becoming tangled around his fingers as he clenched them to hold her in place.

“Don’t turn away from me, Tayshia. Don’t run from this. This isn’t something you can just ignore. You have to face it.”

“I don’t want to face it.” Her right hand pressed flat to his chest. She seemed unable to decide if she should push him back or pull him closer. “I’ve already had to face it alone in my dreams for months now. I don’t want to face it anymore.”

“Then face me.”

She looked up at him, perplexed.

“Face me,” he whispered, finding the moonlight reflected in her brown eyes beautiful, “and we can dream together.”

Art by Meialoue

Her brows pulled together and then she pushed herself onto her toes, pressing her lips against his.

The moonlight above them. The faint music coming from the house. The quiet neighborhood. The warmth of her body. The anchor of his hand against her face.

It was like they existed amongst the stars.

The way Tayshia kissed him reminded Ash of what it felt like to swim in the ocean. The closer to the shore, the safer he was. But the further out to sea—the deeper his tongue delved, the further he pushed her into that realm of emotion—the more dangerous things became. The more he felt like willingly sinking to the bottom.

She didn’t shy away from him like he expected her to. She surrendered to the waves and let him be the one to drown her.

Ash’s lips were fluid as they parted to the slip of her tongue into his mouth. He sucked in his breath, inhaling her own, and moving with the rocking of her body away from the car. He kissed her as deeply and as honestly as he could, wishing that he could show her that he cared as much as he said he did. She kissed him with ten times the fervor, like tidal waves rolling through their hearts and pulling them out to the horizon.

Ash's other hand rose to cup her face, her precious face, and he wondered if she knew that ten years of apologizing to her for what he and his father had done would never make up for what they’d experienced in her nightmare.

No.

Her memory.

Because it was real. Everything she’d experienced was real. Paris was real.

And she was in pain.

Ash pulled back, his lips brushing hers as he breathed, “You don’t have to do anything alone ever again. You know that, right?”

She nodded, her eyes still closed. They kissed again, the slide of his hand to the front of her throat slow and sensual. His thumb caressed her skin the same gentle way his tongue glided against her own. He pulled back once again, his head tilted and nose nuzzling hers.

“You were so strong,” he murmured. “But you don’t have to be strong anymore. Not for me.”

Tayshia went rigid.

“Stop. Stop, stop, stop.” She held him away, one hand wrapped around her crystal and the other flat to his chest. She didn’t look at him. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“All of it. Kissing me. Talking to me the way you do. Caring about me. Just stop.”

Ash felt his heart sinking in his chest. He’d said too much. He’d overstepped.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hanging his head and letting his hands fall at his sides. “I wasn’t thinking."

“Stop reminding me of it, okay?” She extricated herself from his arms and walked a few feet away, wrapping her own arms around herself. “If you know how it makes me feel, then why would you keep trying to make me talk about it? Why keep forcing me to relive it? Just because you were there for the nightmare doesn’t mean it happened to you. It’s not yours.”

Ash clenched his hands into fists, glaring off to the left, towards the neighborhood.

She was right. No matter how horrifying it was for him to experience what he had, it was nothing compared to what Tayshia had endured. She’d burned in the firelight. He’d merely stood frozen in the shadows.

The trauma wasn’t his.

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

Tayshia watched him for a moment, the autumn breeze playing in her curls. She pushed them behind her ears and then crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m going home.”

“How are you gonna get there?” he asked, looking around.

“I’ll walk. It’s not that far.”

That wasn’t a lie. Their apartment complex was less than ten blocks away through suburbia. But the walk would take at least an hour.

“Come on,” he sighed, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “I can call a car or something.”

“No, I want to walk. I like the moonlight.”

Ash watched her walk down the sidewalk for a second before he called, “You can’t just walk home alone!”

“Then walk me,” she snapped without turning back around.

Ash jogged off after her, falling in-step as they passed beneath the branches of an oak tree. The wind rustled through the leaves, sending a calming chill down his spine. Beside him, Tayshia kept her distance and her arms crossed, her eyes forward.

He wished he could hold her hand.