31. Ava
The game was over. Not that I watched another second of it, but I knew that Colorado ended up winning. The roughing the passer penalty got them a first down, and Potter had gotten them in field goal range. A kick for three points, and the game was over, but there wasn’t a single person who trotted off that field feeling good about their win. Not with the unknowns about Cameron.
My parents left to get Grams back to the home, and eventually, Isaiah took Lydia home before telling me he’d come back to wait with me.
I wasn’t going anywhere, not even to the bathroom, until my phone or one of the Kelleys rang with news about Cameron.
We knew nothing, and it’d been hours. The game was over by nine thirty, and it was now closing in on midnight, and still, we hadn’t gotten a single phone call.
Gavin was upstairs, putting Josie to bed, and Landon and Emily were both upstairs in his room, sleeping too. Emily had tried to stay awake until we heard something, but when her head started dropping, Charles insisted she go to bed.
My phone buzzed with a text, and I had the screen pulled up before it finished buzzing in my hand.
Isaiah
Anything?
“Who is it?” Bryce asked.
“Isaiah.” I sighed and texted my brother we hadn’t heard anything.
“I’m calling Jim,” Charles said and stomped off to the kitchen.
“Jim?” I asked.
“Cameron’s agent,” Dalton replied. “He should know something, but Mom or Dad should have been contacted by now, too. Teams are usually pretty good about that.”
“That means it’s bad.” Dalton, for once, had lost his growly look. Worry had softened his perpetual scowl, but I’d give anything to have that scowl back on his face.
His worried look was much more terrifying.
“Don’t jump to the worst case before we know anything.”
“You sure?” Charles said. “Then why haven’t they called us?”
We all stood on our feet as Charles paced back and forth out of view in the kitchen. His phone was at his ear, face to the floor, and his free hand kept scrubbing the back of his head. “Shit. Okay. Okay. I know. But if you hear something, call me. All right. Thanks, Jim.”
Charles dropped his phone to his side and stared out the door leading to the screened-in porch and the dark night before spinning around to face us. Like he needed the moment to get a hold of himself.
When he saw us all standing there, fanned out in a half-circle, he sighed. “Last Jim knew, he was being taken in for tests and immediate surgery for his broken leg.”
“Oh god.” My hands flew to my mouth, and all the food I’d eaten earlier threatened to revolt. “It is broken?”
“Appears that way, and needing surgery isn’t good at all.”
“What about the rest?” Dalton asked with a vicious clip that made even Charles blink.
“Slight concussion, they think. Part of what the testing is for but also to MRI his knee.”
Bryce cussed, and even Jenny didn’t skewer him with a glare for cursing in her home. “This is bad.”
“Season ending at minimum,” Dalton said.
Tears welled in my eyes. “How… when… did Jim say…”
Jesus. I couldn’t think, much less speak. And they all knew more about this than I did.
“Jim said someone from management should be calling us soon with an update, but they were focused on getting guys on the plane, the training team is at the hospital, and well, there’s a lot of moving parts when something like this happens. So for now, we know he’s in surgery, and regardless of the rest, he’ll be okay.” Charles stared off again, shaking his head. “He’ll be just fine regardless.”
A crushing silence hit the room, and my phone rang, making us all jump.
“Who is it?” Gavin asked at the bottom of the stairs. Based on his expression, he’d heard everything.
“Don’t know.” I had no clue who the number was calling me, but it had to be about Cameron, so I steeled my breath, hit the green button, and brought the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, is this Ava?”
“It is. Who’s?—”
“Name’s Marlin. Play with Cameron. I probably shouldn’t be calling you, but he’s talked about you so much I figured you’d want to know what’s going on. Grabbed his phone from his locker and the rest of his shit when we had to clear out, and I’m at the hospital now.”
“Please.” I glanced at Charles and mouthed Marlin’s name before my shaking knees had me collapsing straight back to the couch. “How is he?”
“Pissed and in pain was what we heard the most about, but did anyone tell you he’s in surgery?”
“Yeah. For his leg…”
“Right. Well, before he went back, he was demanding someone call you, but I’m the only one who has his phone’s password, so I wanted you to know that. He should be out soon, they got him back in right away. He’ll be here for a day or two, though, and the team will handle his flight back home. You still with me?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, but it wasn’t like he could see me. “Is there… is there anything else? I mean, the family’s worried about his knee.”
“Can’t lie. Not looking good, but Cameron’ll come back from this. So don’t worry. I told Coach I wasn’t leaving the hospital until he gets out of surgery, so I’ll be flying back tomorrow. I can call you when he’s out.”
“Please,” I rasped and swallowed through the desert clogging my throat. “Please, Marlin. And thank you. Thank you so much.”
“You want me to call his parents? Let them know?”
“No. I’m with them. I’ll tell them, but Charles talked to his agent and?—”
Another phone rang. Charles grabbed it.
“And I think the team’s calling his dad now,” I finished.
“All right. You need anything, you call me. Even if I don’t have an update, like I said, I’ll be here the rest of the night. But you stay strong, okay? Don’t worry about your man, I got him.”
A whoosh of air left my throat, and my chest collapsed. God, that felt good. To know someone was there with him. Someone was taking care of him.
“Thank you. And thanks so much for calling.”
“Not a problem to talk to a woman who Cameron makes sound like she’s an angel.” He chuckled, said goodbye, and I was gaping at my phone after the call ended.
An angel?
Only Cameron.
“That was Marlin,” I told the family. “Nothing really new from what Jim said, but he said he’s staying at the hospital until Cameron gets out of surgery. He’ll let me know when that is.”
“Good.” Jenny patted her knees and stood. “That’s good. Good to know someone’s there for him.”
“Should I… do you think he’d want me to go?”
“How about we wait on that?” She came to me and kissed my cheek. “Wait until we talk to him. See what’s going on. If he can fly home tomorrow, there’s no need.”
“But…” I trailed off. Jenny was right. Did it make sense to fly all the way to Buffalo if he was just coming back?”
“Okay,” I agreed and brushed the heels of my palms to my temples. “This is hell. The waiting.”
“I know. I’ve had twenty years of my boys being in dangerous positions, and it never gets easier, but you do learn to trust in their strength, and somehow, everything works out okay in the end.”
Okay in the end. He’ll be okay. Someday he’ll be okay.
Of course, Cameron would be okay, but would he play ball again?
“You sure you don’t want to stay with me?” Isaiah glanced at me and then back to the road. “Or go to Mom and Dad’s?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I think I want to be alone.”
It was two, and we still hadn’t heard from Cameron or Marlin, but the team’s management had finally called. Results of the MRI confirmed a torn ACL and MCL. He’d need surgery on that too, eventually, but the bone had broken so severely that was the primary emergency. Once Cameron had made it through that and was healing, then they’d go back in and repair the knee. It wasn’t like he could put pressure or weight on it for a while anyway. Fortunately, there was no concussion. That was the only thing to be thankful for at the moment. Season-ending injury, at minimum, like Dalton had predicted. That would be difficult enough for Cameron to swallow once he was alert again.
But career ending?
Time would tell on that one.
“I’m not sure it’s good for you to be alone, though, Ava. This is heavy stuff, and you still haven’t heard from Marlin again.”
“I don’t care.”
I had to lose it. I had to crawl into my bed and cry and hold my phone until I could hear his voice and know without a doubt that Cameron was going to be okay. I needed to do all of that alone, without the heavy weight of worry and fear also burdening Cameron’s entire family.
By the time I left, Jenny had cleaned the kitchen. Not surprising, given she’d needed something to do to keep her mind off the fact her son was in surgery. Charles and Dalton had traded in their beers for bourbon, and both Bryce and Gavin were sitting in the darkened living room, saying absolutely nothing.
No, I couldn’t stay there.
And I wouldn’t risk waking my own parents.
“Okay then.” Isaiah sighed, and I was certain that was what we’d all been doing the entire heaving. Sighing. Blowing out heavy breaths, and I had no doubt Jenny and my mom had spent time praying for Cameron’s health and a miraculous recovery. “But I want you to call me, okay? As soon as you hear a word, I want you calling me first.”
I chuckled. “I would think his parents get the first phone call.”
Isaiah shot me a glare as he pulled into my driveway. He leaned over the console of his truck and kissed my cheek. “You’re a pain in my ass, but I love you the most. Get inside, but call me if you need anything.”
“Of course I will.”
I climbed out of my car, keys in hand, and Isaiah’s truck lights lit my path up to my porch. The light was off by my door, and my brows furrowed. I’d left them on earlier, hadn’t I?
My key stuck in the lock, and I fiddled with it, twisting it back and forth, until finally the door unlocked, and I turned, giving a little wave to Isaiah before stepping inside of my house.
Instantly, my spine prickled, and Isaiah’s lights backed out of my driveway, and the rumble of his truck disappeared. I turned to open the door to flag him down, but stopped.
Weird. I was being weird. It’d been a long night, and my mind was playing tricks on me.
I headed straight to the kitchen, where the microwave light I’d left on was still aglow, and deposited my purse and keys.
A shadow moved, and I whirled.
“Hello Ava-baby.”
I stumbled back, gasping, away from my keys. My phone. Jimmy Morton prowled toward me.
“What are you doing here?”
“Figured now that the hotshot is out of the way, you and I can have our turn.”
“Jimmy.” Fear flooded me, my heart raced. I couldn’t pull my eyes off the glassiness of his eyes or the pink in his cheeks. “You’re drunk, Jimmy.”
Kindness. Kindness had worked with him before. A little bit of flirting. “Do you need water?”
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I need, Ava-baby.”
I flinched. That stupid name he’d always called me, and I despised it. My flinch cost me, though, because Jimmy was still moving forward, faster than I’d expected he could move since there was a sway in his steps. I skirted around the island, but I was trapped. He was too close to the doorway, and I was too far from the back door.
“How did you get in here?”
He tugged on the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt. “Back door. You really can’t trust these small towns to be as safe as everyone thinks they are, you know.”
That oily, slick smile. The feel of his hands on me from all those years ago made vomit rise in my throat, and I choked it down.
“Why? Why are you doing this?”
“Because those fucking Kelleys think the world will give them everything they want as soon as they ask for it. Kelley’s already ruined his shot at football, and I’m going to ruin his shot at you.”
He lunged then.
I moved, jumped out of his way, but my elbow slammed down on the corner of the counter, and I cried out.
His hand wrapped around my throat, and a scream tore my throat as he slammed me against the wall. Pain flared at my temple, and then I was spun, and Jimmy was standing in front of me, the heavy, large weight of him pressing against me as his hand wrapped around my throat. I tried to shove my hands into his chest, but he was pressed too tightly against me, his hand wrapping too harshly against my throat.
Swallowing was difficult, and my breaths came in short, heated pants as the scent of the whiskey he’d probably spent all night drinking wafted against my cheek.
“Stop this.”
“Oh. I don’t think I will.” His hand was on my thigh, brushing along my jeans. I jolted, tried to push back, tried to kick, and every time I tried to scream, his hand tightened more until my breaths were gurgles and the pain in my temple from the wall became a thumping, pulsing pain all through my body.
“You’ll feel so good, I bet,” he said, as he shoved his hand to my belt. The button of my jeans flicked open as the first tear dropped off my cheek.
“Don’t cry.” He leaned in, and I cringed, squeezing my eyes closed as his wet, soppy lips pressed against my skin. I gagged from the feel of him. The smell of him as his hand between us continued to work at my zipper.
“I will fucking ruin you,” I rasped. Stars shot into my eyes, and I blinked them away.
A sick, low laugh came from Jimmy. “Not before I ruin you first.”
“Actually,” a familiar voice said, too familiar. And then a click. “I think I’ll be doing the ruining. Back off, Jimmy. You’re under arrest for attempted assault.”
Jimmy turned and then shoved my chin in my brother’s direction, so I met him face-to-face.
I slumped with relief. Thank God. Thank God he was here. I didn’t even give a shit why he’d come back, but I had never been more thankful.
Jimmy’s grip on my throat didn’t loosen as he smiled at my brother. “There’s no assault. Didn’t you know your sister likes it rough? Likes it the way I can give it to her, even better than perfect little Cameron Kelley? She’s been begging me for this for weeks.”
My brother’s gun was raised, both hands curled around the grip. He didn’t tremble. Didn’t flinch for a moment, even at the nastiness Jimmy spewed.
Lies. All lies. I couldn’t say anything though with his sweaty, huge hand wrapped around my throat, pushing in at the sides.
“Three seconds to let her go before I shoot you.”
Another laugh, another rough squeeze at my throat. I wheezed as Jimmy planted my body in front of his. My back to his chest, I choked at the feel of him.
“Ava,” my brother said. “You okay?”
“Good.” I nodded, and Jimmy squeezed tighter. He stepped back, dragging me with him. I tripped over my feet, trying to stay upright, but his fist was squeezing me tighter. Everything was starting to spin and whirl as he stole my breath and kept tugging. Kept pulling.
“Jimmy,” Isaiah warned. “You run, and it’ll only make it worse for you. This isn’t a city you can disappear in, and I’ve got cruisers on the way.”
For a second, Jimmy paused, and the grip on my throat tightened.
And then he chuckled, leaned in, and swiped his tongue along the line of my jaw.
“See you soon, Ava-baby.” I was thrown forward, the sliding door slammed open, and he took off.
“Ava!” Isaiah shouted my name as I crumpled to the floor. My knees slammed into the tile, and Isaiah was there, picking me up.
“Go!” I flinched and rubbed my throat. “Go get him.”
“Cops are…”
“Go,” I rasped again, needles stabbing my throat as I tried to speak. “Please go.”
“Shit.” Isaiah stood, grabbed his gun, and then raced out the backdoor. I crumbled to a ball on the floor and was still there when Isaiah returned and more cops hurried into my home.
There was the beep of walkie-talkies and curse words being thrown. There were demands being made and orders given, but I stayed on that cool, cold tile until Isaiah was in front of me, picking me up.
“Careful, deputy,” someone said.
“I know,” he clipped and set me on a chair at the kitchen table. “Hey. Ava. Look at me, okay? You’re okay. You’re okay.”
He went to wipe away my tears and paused.
“We need to do some things you’re not going to like, okay? But we need to get some pictures and get you to the hospital. And I’m sorry, I can’t touch your jeans. We can’t… we can’t ruin his prints.”
Jimmy’s prints. Fingerprints on my body. On my jeans. On the button and zipper he’d…
A tremble racked through me, and Isaiah turned. “Someone get me a blanket!”
“I can’t.” I shook my head. “I can’t, Isaiah. He was…”
“I know, kiddo. I know. We all know what he was going to do, but he didn’t, okay?”
I blinked into my brother’s face and couldn’t recognize him. There was a look on him I’d never seen, never knew he could give. Pure rage rolled off him, and I scooted back.
“Why were you here?”
He shrugged. “Sixth sense. Didn’t feel right when I dropped you off. Got to the light before I circled back to make sure you were really okay. Saw him on you when I reached the porch. Debated about arresting him or straight out killing the bastard.”
He came back. My brother came back. A fresh wave of fear, of fury and terror rolled through me, and a sob broke through. “He would have… he would have… why? Why would he do this?”
“I don’t know, sis.” A blanket was draped over my shoulders, and then my head was resting on Isaiah’s shoulder. His arms went around the blanket, and he rocked me back and forth as I sobbed so painfully my gut clenched. “I don’t know, but we’ll get him, and he’ll never do anything like this again.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” my mom cried and rushed to me, a fresh round of tears falling free as my mom pulled me into a hug in the hospital room.
I’d been here for hours. A full night of no sleep. How had a night that started off so exciting become so horrible? A surgery for Cameron, a massive injury, then me… a night of tests and answering questions and choking over everything that happened to me. There’d been pictures and tests and someone had come and tried to get prints off my jeans. Isaiah or one of the other deputies that had been swarming my house, thankfully, had thought to grab me fresh clothes, so I was dressed in sweats and a sweatshirt, only my underwear on beneath, but I couldn’t wait to get them home and burn them. Everything else I’d been wearing had been taken away in an evidence bag.
The only time Isaiah left my side was when my jeans had been removed and I’d been able to change clothes.
Until now. As soon as my parents ran into my room, Isaiah grabbed my dad’s arm and stepped out.
“We were so worried, so worried when Isaiah called us.” My mom scanned my face and then cried as she took in my throat.
It hurt to talk, every word sliced pain through me, and I could only imagine how bad I looked.
“You’re okay.” She brushed back my hair, trying to soothe me. It didn’t help. I wasn’t sure any touch would soothe me for a while. Every time her fingers pressed against my scalp, I thought of Jimmy, of how he’d grabbed me and thrown me. My temple still thumped, and when I’d brushed my finger against it, a lump had been growing.
My mom caught my flinch and dropped her hand. “I’m so thankful Isaiah came back. He told us, he told us everything he could.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay.” She patted my hand gently. “We can sit, sit and wait, and then you’ll come back with us, okay? Stay with us for a few days? Until you’re… until you’re ready…”
To go back to that home. My house, that Jimmy had somehow entered—the back door, I figured since he’d been able to get out of it so quickly. Stupid. I was so freaking stupid to not have more security. If I had…
“How’s Cam?” I croaked. “Has anyone heard? Or told him?”
“He called them when he couldn’t get through to you. Said he’d tried calling you first, and his parents called us, so they’re worried. We didn’t… we didn’t tell them anything. Figured that was for you to say and everything.”
“Okay.” My chin shook. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“Tonight. Said he wasn’t staying there another night, so he’ll be here tonight. He’s flying in, private, but I don’t know when that’ll be.”
That was closer. Only a half hour away in the next county. “I don’t know if I can see him,” I whispered to my mom. “Not like this.”
I hadn’t asked about Jimmy to see if they’d found him. I hadn’t wanted to know if he was still out there somewhere, hiding, probably in someone’s field or something, because he couldn’t have gotten far. Not with how quickly the police showed up to my house.
Thank God for Isaiah.
“You’ll see him when you’re ready,” my mom said and kissed my forehead. “In the meantime, I think we should head home, okay?”
“That sounds good to me.” Doctor Macon stood in the doorway, a kind woman older than my mom. “I have all your discharge paperwork here and two prescriptions. One for pain if you need it, and one for sleep if you need that, too.” She came to me and grabbed the chair on the other side of the bed. We’d already talked about trauma and a therapist, and the importance of seeing someone if I needed it—someone who’d understand.
“Thank you,” I told her, and the doctor’s eyes fell to my throat as I swallowed.
“Take the pain meds. Cool drinks and ice cream and popsicles will help for your throat, okay? Smoothies, too, but be gentle on yourself for a few days, for as long as you need. And if you decide you need to talk to someone, I have that information in this packet too, okay?”
“Thanks.”
“No thanks necessary.” The doctor stood, gave a few instructions to my mom, and a few minutes later, I was in the back of my dad’s truck, his white-knuckled grip the only visual sign he’d shown me about how angry he was.
He didn’t speak until I was in their house, wrapped in blankets on their couch with a hot fudge sundae in one hand and my spoon in the other.
The ice cream was cold and painful on my throat. The hot fudge was soothing.
My dad sat down on the coffee table in front of me. “Isaiah told me they caught him a bit ago.”
My eyes burned, and I couldn’t reach my dad’s gaze. I focused on the large picture window and the apple tree I’d climbed since I was a child, its dead leaves blanketing the floor beneath. “Good.”
“Whenever you’re ready, Isaiah will give you an update on what will happen next, but you need to be aware that Jimmy will have a court date set soon, and there’s the possibility he might make parole.”
“Jimmy makes parole, and half the town might shoot him when he leaves the courthouse,” I muttered, and god, I hated the tone in my voice, the thoughts racing through my mind. The fact I’d been so stupid to not turn a light on right away. If I’d stayed at the Kelleys, this wouldn’t have happened. If I’d gone home, this wouldn’t have happened. If I’d let Isaiah stay with me, this definitely wouldn’t have happened. If I hadn’t been with Cameron, Jimmy might not have done this. It all happened because I was stupid.
Na?ve.
A fool.
“I’d be first in line,” my dad said, and my gaze whipped to him. “No father, no decent man would blame me, either. And I’m so thankful Isaiah was able to stop it.. before…” My dad choked on his words and swallowed.
I blinked back tears.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I told him, and I set the ice cream on the table. Food wouldn’t help.
Nothing would.
Not right then.
Maybe not ever.