Chapter 19 – Ava Jade #2
He was prideful and stubborn, but I didn’t fault him for denying her. Wouldn’t I have done the same thing on principle alone?
Besides, it wasn’t even her money. It was her dead husband’s.
My dad’s favorite theory was that she’d poisoned him to an early grave, but I couldn’t see it. The woman standing before us in a long silvery sheath of a dress with outdated blingy combs tucked in her ratty gray-brown hair wasn’t capable of murder. Not even a coward’s murder.
She didn’t even look like she could tie her own damned shoes. If anything, I pitied her. Alone out here surrounded by stuffed dead things and priceless art and a butler who pretty obviously loathed her.
“The staff has been cooking all day,” my aunt said, looking over our outfits now that she’d gotten used to the sight of our bruises.
She smiled at each of my guys in turn, over-appreciative gaze finding tailored pants and brand name suit jackets left to hang open over crisp shirts. I had to admit they cleaned up good .
But they all grimed up good, so I wasn’t surprised. I liked them just as well covered in blood and leather as I did in the clean cut styles they wore now. Maybe more so.
Definitely more so.
My aunt’s smile turned into a frown as her milky eyes tracked over my attire, finding me in a thrifted skirt, black converse, and a tank top covered over in a soft black cardigan.
That one wasn’t thrifted, it was lifted from the racks at Nordstrom and felt like real cashmere.
It was the nicest thing I owned, but she sneered at it as if I was wearing the skin of a dead goat.
“Ava Jade, dear, would you be more comfortable in a dress? I took the liberty of purchasing a few. They’re upstairs in the spare bedroom if you’d like to?—”
“I’m good.”
“AJ, don’t be rude,” Grey said, and I slowly craned my neck, leveling the full weight of my fury on him, but it only served to make him even more triumphant. The fucker. “She’d love to change.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
Grey pouted, and I rolled my eyes.
Now was not the time for playing. We shouldn’t even be here . Goddammit.
“Come on, Ghost,” Rook said. “I’ll help you into your dress.”
He extended a hand to me, and my aunt gasped. It was her dismay that ultimately made me take his hand, slapping my fingers down onto his palm.
“H-how…how kind of your friend,” My aunt stumbled over her words just as Jackson re-entered the grand foyer with a tray containing a crystal decanter of amber liquid and five partially filled glasses.
Rook stopped before the bottom stair and reached over, snatching two glasses with his index and middle finger. “Cheers,” he said, winking at Jackson, who blanched.
Despite myself, my anger was fading fast, and I felt a traitorous grin worming onto my lips.
At least if the Aces somehow tracked us here, we’d have a veritable fortress to protect us. I knew for a fact my aunt had invested in a crazy system that locked down the entire place with metal shutters.
Silver lining.
I let Rook lead me the rest of the way upstairs while my aunt led Grey and Corvus through the dining room, not making them remove their shoes, which I remembered had been a strict rule for me during the one night I lasted in this fucking place.
“Thought it was Thanksgiving, not Easter,” Rook said, squinting at a small collection of Fabergé eggs.
“Those aren’t Easter eggs,” I said, tugging him away from them before he could grab the closest one. “They’re Fabergé eggs. Her husband gave her one every year they were married.”
“Why?”
“Why do rich people do anything that they do?”
He frowned, shrugging.
“They’re worth something like ten grand a piece, for the smaller ones.”
“Those fucking eggs?”
I nodded.
“Fucking rich people.”
“Fucking rich people,” I echoed, indicating the door down the hall.
He pushed through, and the wafting odor of fresh potpourri made both of us recoil.
“Ugh.”
Rook quickly grabbed the bowl of it from the low table just inside the door, dropping the amber liquid in its place. He crossed the room, opened the window, and tossed it outside.
I suppressed a giggle, seeing his eyes watering at the smell.
“I’m going to be honest, Ghost, I was planning to rip your clothes off the second we got into this room but…” He made a face, shutting the window again.
“What? My dark prince can’t handle a bit of shitty potpourri? Who would’ve known that was your Kryptonite.”
He narrowed his dark eyes on me, closing the gap between us in two long strides. He reached forward and grabbed my shirt, dragging me to him before tearing it into two pieces, the torn shreds catching on my arms as he ripped it off. My cunt throbbed, panties dampening at the heat in his stare.
“That was my nicest sweater.”
“Not anymore.”
“Oh!” Jackson exclaimed, appearing and then disappearing from the entrance to the room. He hovered just out of view, and I sagged, taking up one of the cups from the side table as the butler mumbled his apologies.
“I’m sorry, miss. Your aunt asked me to come and get you. She has a surprise for you and asked that you meet her and your friends in the sitting room. Again, so sorry, miss.”
Rook loomed over me, licking his lips as he reached past me for the other glass, clinking it against mine. “You heard the man, get dressed, Ghost. Your aunt has a surprise for you.”
I frowned, balking at his six foot frame, aching to have his tatted hands on my body. “Are you serious?”
His dark gaze flicked down to my pebbled nipples, and he let out a small growl before stepping away. “Deadly. Can’t keep the woman waiting, Ghost. I can rip off your dress, too. Later.”
I rolled my eyes but went to the closet, my greedy little cunt still pulsating beneath my skirt. Injured or not, I’d make him pay for this later.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I groaned, looking at the three dress options hanging inside the mothball scented walk-in. Each one worse than the one next to it.
Dear god.
“Come on, Ghost,” Rook was saying, a teasing tone coaxing me the rest of the way down the hall toward the low sound of conversation in the sitting room. “Let’s go show your aunt how sexy you look.”
“Rook, I look like a fucking peacock.”
He pouted. “But such a cute little peacock.”
I punched him in the arm, the one near his gun-wound, and he moaned at the pain, making me groan in response.
Whoever made this atrocity of a dress really had some fucking balls.
I damn near came down in my bra and half torn shirt to keep from wearing any of the options my aunt had chosen.
But Rook somehow managed to reverse psychology me into the least atrocious of the options.
A fitted peacock green and purple bodice sloped down to a full skirt that ended just below my knees with little strings hanging from the hem that obnoxiously tickled my legs.
And clearly Aunt Humphrey hadn’t thought to find shoes to match this fucking hideous dressed, so it looked all the worse from being worn with the black converse shoes I came in with.
Fuck it.
I stomped through to the sitting room, eyes turned up to a spot on the wall over all of their heads. “Go ahead, get it out of your system,” I announced, waiting for the inevitable laughter, but it didn’t come.
Aside from a rough cough from Corvus and a red-face from Grey, neither spoke.
“Oh, it looks darling!” my aunt said. “Wish I’d have thought to get the matching shoes. How marvelous. It’ll be perfect for the surprise.”
I pinched my brow, going to the tray of expensive bourbon to pour myself another glass and sink onto the low tufted sofa between Corvus and Grey, while Rook planted himself next to the alcohol.
“Is dinner ready?” I asked, drinking greedily from my glass. She didn’t know me very well, but she knew I didn’t like surprises.
“Patience.” She tutted, looking into the bottom of her empty glass.
Rook, noticing, quickly snatched up the decanter and crossed the Persian carpet to her side, taking the glass from her fingers. “Allow me,” he said, his voice smooth as silk.
“Oh!”
Rook filled the glass.
“Oh my, stop dear, that’s far too much.”
Rook gave her a devilish grin, and she fucking blushed at him. “Too much?” he shook his head. “You look like a woman who can handle her liquor, am I right?”
Her eyes widened, and Rook clinked the empty decanter against her nearly full glass.
“Garcon!” he called in no direction in particular. “We need a refill.”
“Rook,” Corvus warned, but Rook only flashed a set of straight white teeth at his brother and settled back down onto the sofa with his glass, lifting a leg to rest his ankle on his knee, so at ease I was actually sort of jealous of him.
Jackson entered from the foyer a moment later, hands clasped behind his back.
“Refill,” Rook repeated, looking at the butler like he was daft, stretching out his neck like he could see if the butler was hiding the liquor behind his back.
“Right away, sir,” Jackson replied, turning his attention to my aunt. “She’s here, ma’am. Shall I send her in?”
My aunt got unsteadily to her feet, setting her over-filled bourbon down on the table to straighten her dress. Clearly she did not know how to handle her liquor.
“Yes, yes. I’ll see her through.”
“Who else did you invite?” I asked, something uncomfortable tightening in my belly.
She barely spared me a second glance as she followed Jackson from the room. “You’ll see, Ava Jade. It’s a surprise.”
Heat flooded through my stomach, flashing over my chest until it was damp. Until the heat turned cold.
My stomach turned.
“We shouldn’t have come,” I said, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice because I was hearing her voice down the hall. Muted and distant and barely there, but even after all these years, I would know it anywhere.
“Sparrow?” Corvus asked, sitting up now. “What is it?”
My mouth went dry.
Aunt Humphrey came back through the entry to the sitting room, a wide smile beaming on her ashen face.
My mother followed behind her.