Chapter 19 - Avery
The sun was too bright as it streamed through my window onto my face.
Wait.
My windows didn’t get any sun until closer to sunset.
I shot out of bed and looked for my phone, finding it on my end table, plugged in.
4:34!
It was evening already…
A sudden dizzy feeling filled my head, and the room spun. I sat back down on my bed and winced at the sharp pain that shot through my core.
Michael.
Memories of last night flashed through my head. Him coming through the door instead of the window. Chasing me into the woods again. Tying me to the log. Making me come until…
I didn’t really remember anything after that. He’d made me come so many times, it felt like a fever dream. I wasn’t sure what happened after that, but the dried white spots on my stomach and thighs, plus my insanely tender vagina, was more than enough of a hint.
When I looked back at my phone, I realized there was a message.
Unknown: 4 attachments
I blew out a breath before opening up the texts, freezing when I found myself staring at—well, myself.
He’d taken four pictures of me. I was in my bed for each of them, eyes closed, naked, sprawled out on my sheets. They were all from a similar angle, getting further away until I noticed the last one was from outside my window.
The pictures proved just how vulnerable I truly was when it came to him. He could’ve done anything with me—killed me if he wanted—but once he’d finished his fun, he took me back home, laid me on my bed, and left.
That meant he couldn’t be that dangerous, right?
My entire body jumped, heart stopping, as a knock sounded on my door.
“Avery? You okay? I haven’t seen or heard from you all day. Your car is in the driveway, so I’m guessing you’re here?” I remained silent, willing Rowen to go away. “If you don’t give me proof of life, I’m coming in.”
Shit!
“I’m fine,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
“Okay, good.” He sounded genuinely relieved. “I made dinner if you want any. You don’t have to eat with me, but I figured you’d be hungry. Unless you’ve got a stocked snack cabinet in there,” he joked.
That was actually a good idea, one I’d have to steal if he planned on staying here much longer.
I didn’t respond, and he eventually walked away.
As much as I hated it, my stomach was on the verge of rumbling, needing fuel after what my body went through last night and somehow sleeping through two meals.
When I went to grab clothes from my dresser, I noticed a gift Michael must have left me.
The vibrator.
It was still covered in me, dried on its surface, a reminder of the person I became when that masked man got his hands on me, how far I’d let him take it, how willing I was to please him.
When I got to the kitchen, Rowen was sitting on the couch, watching TV.
“It's on the stove.”
I grabbed a plate and filled it with the pasta he’d made. It had tomatoes and bits of chicken in it. I had no idea what it was, but it smelled delicious. I took a bite and nearly moaned, but I filled my plate with another scoop instead of embarrassing myself.
Rowen was still glued to the television when I left the kitchen, but he turned when I reached the area between the hall and the living room.
We stayed like that for a moment, looking at each other.
Rowen leaned forward, like he was holding his breath, waiting for my next move.
Part of me thought about sitting on the other end of the couch, calling a brief truce, just to see how it would go, but the anger I’d built up over the years refused to let me move.
I was cemented to the floor, unable to take the step forward, unable to let go.
So, I turned away and walked to my room instead.
***
Michael didn’t come that night.
And I only got two hours of sleep.
It was inevitable I would be cranky that morning, and only one person was around to suffer my bad mood.
“Breakfast?” he asked cheerfully when I stomped into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee machine.
“Stop trying so fucking hard.” I even winced at the edge in my tone.
I knew I shouldn’t have been pissed off about someone cooking for me, but it was him.
And I hated him.
Right?
“Thrilled to see you too, sunshine.”
My coffee was finished, so I added creamer and took a sip, closing my eyes to savor the taste of the morning.
“How do you like your eggs?”
When my eyes popped open, Rowen was staring at me, apron on, spatula in hand.
He wore a t-shirt under the apron, so his inked arms were on display.
I had seen all his tattoos multiple times, but I never studied them.
There were lots of blacked-out areas, skulls, smoke, all sorts of things that screamed Rowen.
He cleared his throat, and I realized I’d been staring a little too long. Rowen looked smug, smirking like he’d just caught me doing something naughty.
“What’s the goal here? Play house and hope to get on my good side? Bond while the parents are away?” I said bitterly.
He put his hands up. “It’s just eggs.”
“It’s a pathetic attempt to lure me into your…” I waved my hand around at him. “Your stupid gravitational pull everyone else falls victim to. Your cooking isn’t going to convince me.”
He shrugged. “That’s fine. Don’t eat it then. More for me.”
I remained quiet, trying to ignore him as I sipped on my coffee. When he walked away with a plate of food, I noticed he’d left behind a second plate for me.
Why was he being so goddamn nice? Was it part of his plan? Pretend to be kind to me then swoop in and attack when I start dropping my walls?
“Do you get off on patronizing me?” He paused and turned slowly to look at me. “Is it funny to be an ass and then all of a sudden be the good big brother who cooks meals and wants to watch movies?”
“What are you talking about? When have I ever actually been mean to you?”
“Are you for real right now? Let’s start with how you made my tenth birthday all about you?
How you stole all my friends? My mom? Suddenly, everything was ours?
You pushed your way in and sucked the fun out of my life.
You never stopped for a fucking second to realize you were sabotaging everything. You ruined my life!”
His face was void of emotion—unreadable.
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” he clipped.
“Yeah, right. Let me guess: it’s all a big misunderstanding?”
“Avery, all my fucking life, I wanted a sibling. At first, I wanted a brother, but after a while, it didn’t matter—I just wanted someone, anyone.
It was so fucking lonely, and my parents were too busy hating each other to notice me, too busy to throw parties or spend a few minutes with me.
” He put his plate down and wiped a hand over his face.
“I was so fucking excited to meet you, to finally get the ‘built-in friend’ everyone else had.”
My chest tightened as he looked to the floor. He looked sad, broken even. Suddenly, it all felt misplaced. My anger, my hatred for him. Had I been wrong this whole time?
My eyes stung with tears as guilt settled heavy on my chest, making me question everything.
“I could tell you weren’t thrilled that day.
To be totally honest, I didn’t even know it was your birthday party until my dad said something on the way over.
I even asked him to take me on another day, but he didn’t listen.
” He signed. “I thought you’d eventually let it go, understand it wasn’t my fault, that I wasn’t there to ruin your life. ”
His eyes met mine, and my heart dropped. I’d never seen Rowen so vulnerable, so… human.
“I didn’t want your life, Avery; I wanted a sister.”
“And now?”
His brows furrowed. “Now what?”
“Do you still want a sister?” I gestured to myself, feeling a massive wave of fear looming over me at the prospect of being told no.
He looked everywhere but at me and sighed. “Avery…”
“That’s fine,” I said quickly, shoving down the hurt. “I get it. It’s fine.” It was my fault for taking things so far. “I don’t blame you. I’ve said some messed up shit to you. You should hate me.”
I grabbed my plate and beelined for the hallway.
“You aren’t that little girl anymore, Av,” he called after me.
What was that supposed to mean?