Chapter Nineteen
“Hey, I might have found something,” I call out to Avery. She pokes her head out of the bookcases, her hair falling to one side. Hope flares in her blue eyes, and she crosses the library to join my side. I lay the book on my crossed legs, using my good hand to hold the pages open for her to see over my shoulder. “Metabolic encephalopathy is the most frequent cause of disordered consciousness. It’s a chemical imbalance in the blood; side effects can include not waking immediately after a surgery or trauma.”
Avery lowers to a crouch beside me, her eyes flying from left to right. I watch her chew on her lip, a frown forming between her brows.
“It also says it’s caused by global brain dysfunction or the organs not working properly. This can’t be it, Dax. We’ve got enough problems without diagnosing Axel with phantom illnesses.” Shaking her head, she stands and retraces her steps to the bookshelves, leaving me sitting in front of a flickering fireplace. Just before disappearing, Avery pauses with a hand on the shelving unit, a long sigh rattling through her chest. “I’m sorry, that was really snippy. I’m just tired and stressed.”
I let out a low chuckle, unfurling my legs on the thick carpet. "You? Snippy? Never," I tease. She peeks at me from under her lashes, her lips twitching upward despite herself. Then the frown returns as she remembers she shouldn’t have anything to smile about, and she slips into the aisle. I leave her for a short while, barely reading the rest of the medical journal before snapping it closed.
Ironically, we came to the library as an excuse to get away from the crushing weight of the morning and proceeded to research headaches into ourselves. It’s not a healthy tactic, but it’s how I dealt with my mom’s sickness. I was young, but not as naive as the doctors made out. After every appointment, I’d go home and research the terms they used, doing whatever it took to understand what was happening. As if that would make the outcome any different. It wasn’t long after her passing that I switched to fiction and never looked back, and now I remember why.
Pushing to my feet, I stretch in the fire’s warmth before going in search of Avery. I find her nestled between the stacks, in a small alcove she’s created for herself. Surrounded by the fortress of books she’s been working through, she absentmindedly picks at her lip. Titles on eating disorders, trauma recovery, men’s mental health, and the psychological aftermath of accidents cover a coffee table, a low velvet sofa, and the floor. Unlike me, she’s focused on issues she might actually have a shot at helping with.
I tiptoe through her stacks, finding a small space I can just about squeeze into behind her. My legs are bent by her waist, the small of her back shifting to press against my crotch. I swallow, forcing my attention to remain on my hand rubbing her shoulder. The fingers on my other hand throb like they always do, especially just after Hux changes my bandages, but it’s bearable. There are more pressing issues to distract me with.
“You’re allowed to be stressed, you know. We all are. And researching conditions I know nothing about probably isn’t helping, but it’s filling the time. Stopping me from going stir crazy.”
“I get that,” Avery nods, leaning back to rest her head on my shoulder. She remains there, her face turned up to the ceiling. I stare openly, tracing her features with my eyes. These are the rare moments I wait for, when the need to fight is stripped back, when the fire simmers to a low burn and Avery can just be . She should get to be like this more often, able to put her faith in us. To let us carry the weight for a while until she finds the strength to pick herself back up.
Before my very eyes, I watch those bricks start to layer back up. Her lips press together in quiet defiance, her eyes burning with determination even though she’s exhausted. Mentally exhausted from caring so much, trying to keep us all together by purely holding on so tight. I fall for her all over again. This breathtaking, unstoppable force of a woman who stormed into our lives, claimed her place, and hasn’t stopped fighting since. Fighting with us, alongside us, and now for us.
“Swan,” I press my lips against her cheek. Avery snaps out of her ravine and slides her fingers into mine. Bringing her knuckles up to meet my lips, I inhale her scent. “I love you so much.” Avery sucks in a breath, parting her lips as if through all of the drama, she’s simply forgotten how I felt.
“Oh, I love you too, Dax.” Avery’s head tilts to watch me kissing her hand, pressing her palm against my cheek. I will spend every day cherishing her, never letting her forget what we have. Anything to keep her looking at me like I’m her entire world. And knowing I get to share this feeling with my best friends, that there will always be someone to comfort her when I’m not quite enough, is a joy I couldn’t comprehend until now. I just have to hold on tight enough to see us through this next storm. Only brighter skies can await on the other side, surely.
Leaning aside, I carefully move the stacks of books, creating a pathway to clear off the velvet sofa. Avery watches me, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion, but she doesn’t protest. Once there’s enough room, I slide onto the couch and gently tug her toward me. She comes willingly, curling into my chest with a sigh. Her hair smells faintly of lavender, and I rest my chin on top of her head, feeling her relax ever so slightly in my arms.
“How are you doing?” I ask softly. Avery snorts, the sound muffled against my chest. She shrugs, but I feel the tension in her shoulders. I’m not letting her off that easily. “No, seriously,” I press, pulling back just enough to tilt her chin up and meet her eyes. My arm remains firmly around her, a cage of comfort she doesn’t want to escape. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to speak to a therapist. Talk to me.”
Her features flicker with resistance, but after a long pause, she finally relents, her voice barely above a whisper.
“There’s nothing to talk about anymore. I used to keep my pain private, much like how I used to hide myself away. I didn’t want the world to see or know me. I just wanted to disappear.” I run my hand up and down her back in soothing strokes, hoping to keep her grounded.
“What do you think you were hiding from?”
Avery’s attention lingers on my bandage, a frown pulling at her mouth, but her answer is instantaneous.
“Love,” she says to herself. “Heartbreak. I thought if I only relied on two people, the chances of getting hurt were much slimmer. They were meant to protect me from harm, and they both betrayed me in ways I didn’t think were possible. The secrets and the scandals, and for what? Nixon is AWOL, and Cathy is… gone.”
Her words carry a bitterness I’ve never heard from her before, and it strikes me how much she’s still holding onto. It’s the first time she’s acknowledged any resentment toward Cathy, and the revelation sits heavy between us. I press my lips to her temple, lingering there as I let her speak, wanting her to get it all out in the open at last.
“I just wish she had told me something. Helped me to understand rather than let me piece it all together bit by bit, only to keep coming up short.” Twisting her face into my T-shirt, I feel a trace of wetness seep through the fabric. I stroke her hair and hold her gently, my perfectly imperfect Swan. “There’s an ache in my chest that won’t go away. This tiny voice that keeps whispering that I can’t save everyone.”
“You can’t,” I agree immediately, tightening my hold on her. Blinking up at me with a flash of defiance, Avery looks ready to argue that she can indeed save everyone, despite her being the one to say it first. I smile at her stubbornness, picking at a loose thread on the college sweater she wears. “That’s why you have us. All five of us.”
Satisfied with that, Avery wriggles back into my hold, our limbs entwined. Resting my chin on her head again, she absently draws patterns on my chest, safely snuggled away from the rest of the world. It’s just the two of us—no expectations, no masks, no need to fake smiles or force laughter. No pressure to be strong.
Beyond these walls, it’s chaotic and demanding, but here, the quiet is absolute, broken only by the soothing rhythm of our synced breathing. My injured hand rests against her back, my other traveling beneath her sweater until I find the circular scars on her ribs. Avery doesn’t react to my small strokes, as if she’s at peace with me touching them now. As if she’s accepted that they don’t define her. Fredrick’s actions don’t define her.
“Do you regret it?” I ask finally, my mind unable to take the hint and slow down too.
“Regret what?” Avery tilts her head back, her breath skating over my jaw.
“Leaving the manor.” She shakes her head, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.
“I could never regret you guys.” My smile grows once more, but there’s a flicker of doubt in my raised brow.
“Even Wyatt?” A dry laugh escapes her, a sweet and melodic sound cutting through the quiet.
“A week ago, I’d have said, ‘Fuck Wyatt.’” She pauses, reaching up to trace the curve of my jaw with her thumb. “I mean, I totaled Hux’s car with the sole intent of hurting him in any way possible. But yeah. Even Wyatt.” Leaning forward, I press a tender kiss to her lips, letting it linger.
“I know he’s not the easiest of people to understand, but deep, deep down, his heart means well.” I say quietly, brushing my nose against hers. “He just shows it in ways that only seem to make sense to him.”
“Tell me about it,” Avery rolls her eyes, although there’s a softness to her now. Every trace of anger and misplaced resentment between the two of them seems to have been resolved, thank fuck. We can finally all come together now; we can be a family again.
I kiss her again, deeper this time. My hand retracts from her side to curls around her neck, my tongue tracing her soft lips. She gives me all of her, opening and inviting me in further. My sweet Avery, clutching her hands in my T-shirt and tugging me impossibly closer. I grip her face, sinking my body lower so she can move to straddle me. My cock responds, twitching inside my jeans as if I didn’t selfishly have her to myself all of last night.
It wasn’t enough, nor do I doubt it ever will be. Avery doesn’t realise how much I love her or how she enables me to be the rock she’s slowly coming to rely on. It’s an equal give and take. She boosts me so I can be here for her in any way she needs. Lowering my hand to her hips, I pull her down whilst rolling my hips sharply, stifling her gasp with my mouth.
“Guys!” a sharp shout breaks through our bubble. Hux rushes into view, not noticing how he kicks the stacks of books aside with his giant feet or stops me from dry humping Avery into an immediate climax. His brown eyes are wide and wild, seeming to see everything yet nothing at all. His chest is heaving, his fingers spread and hovering in mid-air. Avery sits bolt upright, accidentally rubbing against my shaft again. But none of that matters when Huxley remembers why he’s disturbing us.
“He’s awake.”