Walking towards her apartment in small town Indiana, Ashlynn had her arms wrapped tight around her jacket. A car sped past, and she glimpsed over her shoulder watching it suspiciously till it drove out of sight her feet crunching in the snow. Her dumb ass station wagon was in the shop again with one of those spectacular engine sounds that promised to be expensive. These days, she could barely afford her apartment and ramen noodles, let alone the bill for the mechanic.
She missed the days when her future had seemed so bright. Art school had been a blast. The teachers had praised her work, she'd won awards, even found the perfect boyfriend, or so he'd seemed at the time. The future seemed flawless when she'd moved to Seattle with Ryan, and for a few months it was. Ryan was having trouble finding work, but she managed a gallery opening within a few months, and everything was going to be flawless. Until it wasn't anymore.
Snow crunched far behind her. Ashlynn's heart dropped through to her bladder, and her mouth ran dry. Glancing back she looked around panicked, but it was dark and she didn't see anything. Turning back she walked faster, and as her own snow stomping footprints continued to echo on the houses she passed by, she kept picking up pace until she was shaking and panting by her own front door. Hey eyes kept flashing around like a feral cat's as she dug out her keys and tried to put them in the lock. She dropped them three times before she managed to get inside. Spinning around, she didn't pause until the deadbolt, chain latch and door lock were in place and the security system she'd spent the last of her start-up money on was activated.
Leaning against the nearest wall, she let herself slip to the scraped up wood floor. Crashing her head into her palms she shuddered an empty moan with no one aloud to hear as hot tears wet her cheeks. Three months and the bruises were gone, but the damage was not.
Walking home from the gallery, where the final touches were being put on an exhibition, she couldn't hide the smile owning her face. Everything was going perfectly, and there were whispers that Ryan might propose at the opening the next week. Practically skipping, she heard her phone alert and checked her messages.
Drinks L8r?
Ashlynn grinned, Naomi always was the party girl. Not tonight.
Winding around the block to their apartment building, honestly wasn't sure what could make her happier. Climbing the stairs, riding the elevator, and opening the front door, the only thing running through her mind was how exactly Ryan might help her celebrate.
Nothing seemed amiss when she opened the front door and tossed her keys in the bowl, kicking off her heels. "Ryan?" she called, not seeing him on the couch or in the kitchen. She still had that stupid grin on her face as she confirmed that his keys were still in the bowl by the door too.
Stretching her feet as she walked to the kitchen and dragged out a water bottle. Taking out her phone, she checked the time. It was 3, she had finished up early. Must be taking a nap, she thought. Biting her lip she took a gulp of water and started unbuttoning her shirt as she crept towards their bedroom. Getting to the door, her black bra revealed the abundant cleavage she'd seduced Ryan with the first night she'd met him in his frat house wearing an Alice in Wonderland costume. Blonde bouncing curls she now only let down on days she didn't work, which were mostly days that didn't end in 'y.'
Opening the door, she'd meant to surprise him, but finding him with a red head bouncing on his dick on their kitchen table, she was fairly certain he won.
"Ashlynn," Ryan shouted surprised, rolling over quickly with Naomi landing on the floor.
Bursting into tears, I turned and ran out, pulling my shirt without and ignoring the buttons. I grabbed a coat, slid my feet into a pair of flip-flops by the door and kept walking. "Ashlynn, wait," Ryan called, chasing after her with a half buttoned pair of jeans, those sculpted abs on full display.
She looked back, and no without a doubt it was over. "When I get back, I want you gone," she fumed, her chest heaving.
"Ashlynn, it's not what it looks like. Come on, baby. I love you," he said, as she waited impatiently for the elevator.
Ashlynn swung back, took two steps forward and slapped him square across the jaw. "No, I loved you. But you will always love yourself more, you narcissistic ass," she barked, as the elevator door opened. "Get out, and stay out."
Wiping down her shower mirror with her damp towel, Ashlynn stared into her bloodshot worn reflection. There was a time she'd felt unstoppable. These days she knew better. Part of her knew the light behind those bright blue eyes had died since the last time she'd meant her own smile. Wrinkles had worn into her pale brow and she'd grown almost disgustingly pale. Even her blonde curls had dimmed from cheap shampoo and lack of effort.
Tying her robe tight over her tank top and panties, she wandered out to the living room where canvases in varying stages of completion covered every available surface. An easel with a canvas in progress sat next to a table coated in painting supplies; an old stool in front of it. On one side of the room a window looked out at a snow covered hill below that led down to a tree-lined creek. On the other side, a breakfast window was lined with empty wine bottles she hadn't bothered to set outside to the curb. True to habit, she pulled out a brown bag she'd brought home and took out a bottle of cheap red wine, and poured a heavy glass.
Setting up her paints, brushes, and water, she sat on the stool, propping a long leg up on the stool with her as she stared at the gray and deep purple alleyway she'd painted the night before, the moon piercing in from above. Over the next couple hours, the wine bottle dwindled as she painted with trained skill and detail wolves in tattered suits and dress shirts and men who looked even more monstrous with cat-like golden eyes and too perfect faces. She painted the dark night with shadowed faces until they began to blur, her eyes unable to stay open. Arching her back, and stretching, she stood tense. Surrendering, she gathered her brushes, her eyes wandering out the window.
A flash of motion outside caught her off her guard and thirteen paintbrushes clattered to the floor. Her heart was racing as she scanned the snow looking for something moving in the darkness. After a long moment, Ashlynn rubbed her eyes and began cleaning the mess. Twenty minutes later, she crawled into bed.
Fifteen stories below, a man appeared out from behind a tree, still watching the now black window. She was really was quite talented, he admitted, pulling out his phone. She also knew how to get the hell out of dodge, even human police would have had a hell of a time finding this chick, but hunting her down had taken all of three months. Tricky, because she's been smart enough to avoid relatives, but there was more than one way to skin a cat.
"Blaise, I found your girl," Hayden, offered crossing his leather clad arms and shaking snow off a leather shoe.
"Is she alright?" Blaise snapped from the other end.
Hayden smiled, "She's in one piece, but Blaise, there's something you should see. . ."
"Where are you?" he demanded, and despite the late hour, Hayden could hear him grabbing his keys and storming out the front door with a slam.
