Chapter Five

Ashley's POV

Moments later, I parked outside a nearby store, yanking off my helmet before heading inside.

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as I grabbed a bottle of vodka off the shelf and made my way to the cashier. The woman barely glanced at my ID before bagging the bottle and handing it over.

Stepping back outside, I climbed onto my bike and drove aimlessly, the wind cool against my face. I wasn’t sure where I was going—just somewhere that wasn’t home.

Eventually, I found myself at the nearest park.

Cutting the engine, I swung off the bike and made my way toward a secluded spot beneath a tree. The grass was still damp with morning dew, but I didn’t care.

I twisted the cap off the vodka and took a deep swig, wincing as the burn spread down my throat. The sensation was both familiar and numbing—exactly what I needed.

Leaning back against the tree, I let out a slow breath, staring up at the sky as I took another drink.

For now at least, the world could wait.

The sharp ring of my phone yanked me out of sleep. Groaning, I reached for it, already knowing who it was. Charlotte.

I let it ring.

Scrolling mindlessly through social media, I ignored the persistent calls until they finally stopped.

The sky had started to darken by the time I pushed myself up from the ground, stretching out the stiffness in my limbs.

Time to head back.

Swinging a leg over my bike, I started the engine and made my way home.

When I arrived at the mansion, I noticed the usual guard was nowhere to be seen, so I punched in the manual gate code and rolled up the driveway.

Parking my bike in the garage, I shut off the engine and sighed before heading toward the entrance.

The moment I stepped inside, Charlotte's voice cut through the air like a whip.

"Where have you been all day?"

Ignoring her, I strode past without a glance, taking the stairs two at a time. I barely made it to my room before she barged in behind me, arms crossed, her face tight with frustration.

"You didn't answer your phone," She snapped. "You had us worried sick."

"Who's us? You and Dad?" I scoffed, dropping onto my bed. "Please. He's probably too busy to notice."

Charlotte exhaled sharply. "You should have let someone know you weren't coming home."

"It's none of your business." I muttered, rubbing my temples.

"It is my business. I'm your stepmother."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Right, because that gives you a say in everything I do?"

"You're still a teenager, Ashley. You don't get to just disappear whenever you feel like it."

Frustration boiled over and I shot to my feet. "If you won't leave, then I will."

"You're not going anywhere." She countered, stepping in front of the door.

I tilted my head, chuckling a bit. "And who's gonna stop me? You?"

Before she could come up with a reply, my father's voice interrupted.

"What's going on here?" His presence filled the doorway, his expression unreadable as he glanced between us.

"Tell her to get out of my room." I said flatly, pointing at Charlotte.

Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me, young lady?"

I held her gaze, my voice steady. "Get. Out."

Dad sighed, clearly exhausted. "Ashley, what's with the attitude?"

Charlotte folded her arms. "She skipped campus today."

Dad's gaze flickered to me. "Is that true?"

I shrugged. "So?"

Charlotte let out a huff. "She has no respect. She talks to me like I'm nothing!"

I met her glare with one of my own. "You're not my mother, Charlotte. You never were and you never will be."

"Ashley!" Dad's voice boomed, making me clench my fists.

"What?" I snapped, meeting his gaze.

He ran a hand down his face, exhaling. "Calm down."

Silence settled between us before he spoke again, softer this time. "Ashley, where were you today?"

"I'll explain when she leaves." I gestured toward Charlotte without breaking eye contact.

"I'm not leaving." She shot back stubbornly.

Dad rubbed his temples, clearly trying to keep his patience. "Sweetheart, please. I need to talk to my daughter alone."

Charlotte pursed her lips, clearly unhappy, but after a long pause, she turned on her heel and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Dad sat down on the edge of my bed, loosening his tie. "Sit."

With a reluctant sigh, I sank onto the mattress beside him.

"What's going on?" He asked, studying me.

"Nothing."

"Ashley." His tone was laced with knowing.

I shifted uncomfortably. "I just...I don't like her."

Dad frowned. "Why not?"

I ran a hand through my hair. "Because she's always in my business. It's suffocating."

"She's trying to be a good stepmother."

I scoffed. "More like trying to control everything I do."

Dad sighed. "I know things haven't been easy since your mom passed, but Charlotte really does care about you."

I stayed silent, picking at a loose thread on my comforter.

"Can you at least try with her? For me?"

I glanced at him. His tone wasn't demanding—it was almost pleading.

After a long pause, I exhaled. "Fine. I'll try. But if it doesn't work—"

"It will." He cut me off with a small, hopeful smile.

I wasn't convinced, but I let him believe it.

Dad leaned over, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Goodnight, princess."

"Night, Dad."

As soon as he left, I let out a deep breath and walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower.

It had been a while since Dad and I had an actual conversation—just the two of us.

Our relationship wasn't the kind you saw in movies. He was always away, too wrapped up in work and his new family, while Justin and I had spent most of our lives with our Aunt.

He never really talked about Mom after she died. And honestly? I wasn't sure if it was because he couldn't or because he didn't want to.

Still, for the first time in a long time, I felt like he was trying.

Maybe it was time for me to try too.