Page 78 of Vile Bastards
Oh? I wonder when that happened.
“If you’ll recall, I was in the store before you two ever arrived. I can’t help it if the fates have other ideas.” Ash’s dark eyes drift over to me as I step around Widow so that we’re standing side by side. Ash isn’t wrong: we’ve met at this store by accident three times now. Although … I’m starting to wonder if it was only an accident the first time. “And I can’t help it if I have money and you don’t.”
Widow reaches into his pocket and extracts his keys, walking over to the ‘63 Shelby Cobra with its fresh paint job and dragging the sharp edge of one aaalllll down the side of it. The screeching sound echoes around the quiet parking lot as Ash closes his eyes, hands squeezed into fists on either side of him.
I can barely stand to watch Widow defile such a beautiful car, but I’ve got to let them have their spats or else they’ll never get past it. Get past it. As if having an entire stable of fuckboys is a long-term thing. In and of itself, fuckboy is meant to be a temporary, disposable sort of relationship.
I’m going to have to start upgrading boys accordingly if I want to keep them.
I squat down to retrieve the grocery bags, but Widow beats me to it, pocketing his keys and scooping both bags up in his strong arms.
“That’s right: you have money, but no integrity. Money, but no freedom. Money … but no Scarlett.” Widow gets right up in Ash’s face and then moves past him, tossing a look over his shoulder at me. “Let’s go, Mrs. Lawless.”
I grind my teeth at that one and look over to find Ash staring straight ahead at nothing. His dark eyes are empty, and I can only imagine what he’s going through. He assumed that with his brother gone, we’d have a special one-on-one relationship.
What we have now is almost … nothing.
“Are you still my fuckboy?” I ask, my voice barely audible over the sudden rush of wind that sweeps through the lot, rustling the naked branches of the cherry blossom trees that are planted in small patches of dirt here and there. They’ve started cutting them down and replacing them with tiny saplings because … people hate trees and seem to get off on chopping them down whether it serves a purpose or not? I have no idea.
“Scarlett, I am more than that. Have some faith in me for fuck’s sake.” He doesn’t look at me, reaching into his own pocket for his car keys. Ash puts a palm flat on his chest, swallowing hard as he squeezes his keys with the opposite hand. “Doki-doki.” He pats his chest twice before moving past me and climbing into the Cobra. I miss the Fastback. I miss his sneakers. I wish we could at least text one another on occasion.
The fuck does doki-doki mean? I wonder, but then I put my own hand to my chest, and I swear that I can feel it. Like the sound of a beating heart.
Ash takes off, nearly clipping a minivan on his way out of the parking lot, and I head back to the Stingray where Widow’s waiting, one hand on the steering wheel. He glances over at me as I slide into the passenger seat.
“Where to now?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave as he studies me. We don’t talk about Ash Kelly. Nobody wants to talk about Ash Kelly except for maybe me. He truly could’ve died that night and not a soul in the world would give a shit. That’s pretty fucked-up, don’t you think?
When I think about it, all of the boys are like that.
Bohnes has no one. Widow has no one. After the death of his father, Alexei also has no one. I consider that, and also the fact that perhaps I like to be needed which is a screwed-up state of being in so many ways.
“Take me anywhere. I don’t care. Let’s just eat and fuck and pretend like we’re in high school for five minutes.”
Widow considers that, starts the car, and then off we go.
Ash Aspen Kelly
Doki-doki. Doki-doki. Doki-doki.
My heart pounds furiously when I think about Scarlett, and I lift my left hand up to press against my chest, listening to the frantic, easy rhythm and trying not to hate Widow for being poor and unattached and … free.
He wasn’t wrong with the things he said to me earlier, but I hate him just the same.
I despise him.
While he’s running around with Scarlett, out and proud, fucking her, holding her, taking her shopping with a goddamn food stamp card, I’m here, sitting in Chet Archer’s living room. What did they do after? Did they make a picnic and eat it? Did they have sex in the park or on the hood of his Corvette or in Scarlett’s bed?
