Post by Ash Blake on Jan 15, 2022 11:48:48 GMT -5
Ash took a pull from the plastic bottle in her hands, wincing as the barely-palatable poison slithered down her throat, setting fire to her strained esophagus once more.
"Any booze'll kill ya," she slurred to herself with a bitter, mirthless chuckle. "But this'll make ya feel like it."
Her hand jostled as the last word left her mouth; vodka spilled from the bottle, seeping into the front of her oversized jacket and pooling on the floorboards of the rental car. She didn't seem to acknowledge the mess, eyes locked on her own reflection in the rearview mirror. Her lips curled into a scowl, and her eyes darted towards her lap.
She really should've been in Los Angeles. And yet, as she pulled the hood of her jacket up and shot a glance out towards the night sky, all she could focus on was the impetus of her detour.
Even as she tried to avert her eyes from the package in the passenger's seat.
She took another swig to settle her nerves, before capping the bottle and tossing it into the backseat. Her hand hesitated as it reached for the door, shooting quickly into her pocket and fishing out her cell phone. Before Ash could think, she'd dialed her former protege.
As the phone rang, she squinted through bleary eyes, staring out into the still of night.
12/24/21
Thankfully, no prying eyes caught sight of Garvey's head before Ash returned to her senses and stuffed it back in the box, tossing it into the rental car's trunk. The lie she told her mother upon returning seemed to work; at the very least, there were no follow-up questions.
Ash didn't say a word at dinner, picking idly at her plate and drinking enough wine to return the color to her cheeks while a dull ringing in her ears tuned out the spirited discussion her mother and Olive were having around her. With each passing second, however, Ash could feel the weight on her chest press further and further down. Her cheeks burned, her breathing shallow, she excused herself early, retreating outside, desperate for a reprieve.
The weight just dug deeper into her ribcage in response, forcing her to take a seat on the doorstep once more, enveloped by the stillness of night. She shed no tears as she stared across the road; Peter Garvey wasn't a person one cries for. Still, attention needed to be paid.
She hadn't even realized any time had passed when Olive's hand on her shoulder jarred her from her daze. Whipping her head around and craning her neck towards her companion, she felt her face flush, glassy eyes refusing to meet Olive's.
"You've been out here for like, forty-five minutes. You're making your mom real fuckin' skittish."
Shaking her head, Ash pushed herself to her feet. A nervous grin formed on her face as she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.
"I've got an idea."
Olive's eyes narrowed as she cocked her head.
"You wanna meet my ex?"
"Hello? You fuckin' there?"
Ash didn't hear Olive's words so much as the frustrated groan that followed, responding with a confused 'hm'?
"You called me, genius."
Shaking the daydream away, Ash found herself re-tethered to reality, grinning from ear to ear. "Happy New Year, 'Liv."
"Are you drunk?" Olive said with an exasperated sigh. "I was counting on you to keep me straight for Dry January and here you are blowing it not even a day in. This is bullshit!"
Neither woman said much of anything as they made their way through the streets of Cottonwood Falls towards Prairie Grove Cemetery. Ash led the way, traipsing through the labyrinth of gravestones in spite of her not-quite-steady balance until the pair came to a stop before a small, rectangular slab of rock, almost overgrown.
TRAVIS LEARY
1993-2014
"Hey Trav," Ash murmured as she lowered herself onto her knees, eyes locked on the stone. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Olive took a step back, watching the scene unfold through wide, slightly perturbed eyes. Ash stifled a giggle as she shot a glance back over her shoulder.
"Hey, you're the one who wanted to meet him."
"In my defense," Olive began, trailing off as she tried to find the words. "I didn't really expect it to go like this."
Ash's attention turned from the grave towards her guest once more. She pushed herself to her feet and drew nearer Olive, wiping dirt off her pant legs.
"I never told you?"
"Not in so many words, no. I guess I kinda picked up on it." A pregnant pause. Silence fell heavy on the pair, compounding the weight that threatened to flatten Ash's ribs. "Was hoping I was wrong, though."
Ash's eyes darted to the ground. "He, uh—"
Her breathing hitched. "I wasn't—"
Her knees buckled. "I should've—"
And Ash collapsed to her knees, tears finally streaming down her face. Her words were swallowed by harsh sobs and ragged breathing. Glancing up, her own wet face a mess of smeared makeup and snot, Ash caught a glimpse of her companion in the dim glow of the moon. She looks so much like him.
The thought of her embrace felt like sleep to the freezing.
"Hey, can you do me a favor?"
"What?"
"Just, take care of yourself, yeah?"
With that, Ash hung up the phone, tossed it onto the passenger's seat, and stepped out of the car, approaching the building she'd been scoping out. An all-too-familiar jolt of electricity shot down her spine as she approached. Deja vu.
She climbed the stairs gingerly, desperate to keep quiet. Steadying herself on the landing, her eyes lit up as she read the apartment number and reached for the pistol in her waistband. She rapped at the door with the barrel, steeling herself and taking aim as the soft tumbling of locks echoed in her ears and the door swung open, her eyes meeting those of Jonathan Backus.
