Chapter 31
31
AVA
M y car is parked near my office since I stopped in there to do a few things before we started shopping. I’m still a few blocks away when I turn the corner and find a confusing sight. My father and Jamie are glaring at each other. Their backs toward me.
“Have you made any progress?” my father snarls.
I panic and flatten myself against the wall between two buildings. Somehow, they didn’t see me coming around the corner.
“She’s been drooling all over Abraham Blackthorn.” Jamie snorts. “Honestly, who does she think she is? Just because one of the brothers decided to lower the bar with the Delvaux girl, Ava thinks she has a chance with him.”
“Watch how you speak about the founding families.”
My father’s words shock me. I don’t think he’s ever stood up for me in any capacity. It lasts for all of a second, because he’s not defending me.
“The children may be disappointing, but they are still the elites of this city. You’d do well to remember which families control this town.”
“Josephine Delvaux doesn’t control Mystic Hollows. She had to have her boyfriend give her a job. Even the family has been shamed. There are whispers about whatever they did a few months back. People talk in a small town like this.” Jamie‘s face is smug as he faces off with my father.
This whole conversation is bizarre. My dad and Jamie maybe spoke two sentences to each other the entire time we were dating. Now all of a sudden, they’re BFFs who shoot the shit in the middle of the street, talking about Mystic Hollows founding family politics. What is this?
“We are working on a way to rectify things.” My father's jaw clicks. “You’ve been willing to put in the work. You aren’t fit to be a member of the Vandenberg family, but you have been useful. Your magic is pitiful, but perhaps there are ways to work around that. Maybe I’ll let you have my daughter.”
I slap my hand over my mouth to keep from shouting. Fuck no. And also, what the actual hell? Did my father just offer me up like a cheese platter? I’m not a goody bag to be given out at a kid’s birthday party. He can’t just gift me to Jamie. I’m not a child and it’s been a long time since I’ve let my father dictate things in my life.
Excluding the planning of the masquerade ball.
Technically, that was my boss. If it wasn’t for my stupid curse, I could find a new job. I shake my head. None of these spiraling thoughts are important. This conversation that my father is having with my ex-boyfriend; this is what I need to be focused on.
Is that why Jamie has been texting and chasing me every time he sees me around town? He’s trying to get in with my father? I feel nauseous. Not that I had any belief that Jamie is a good person. Not after everything that happened between us. There may have been a tiny sliver of me that felt good, important even, because he was trying to talk to me again. It made me feel like I wasn’t someone who could be thrown away. What a joke. No one wants me for who I am.
What does my father have to gain in this relationship? Does this have to do with the curse and fucking ritual? It can’t be. Right?
“Just make sure you’re at the party. I think it’ll be an interesting night.” My father claps Jamie on the shoulder, and their voices grow distant as they walk away.
I sag against the cold brick, so tired of everything. It takes all my effort not to slide down to the ground and curl up into a ball. Somehow, I manage to put one foot in front of the other and make it to my car.
I have every intention of heading straight home and turning into a couch potato for the rest of the day. So I’m not sure how I end up in front of Bram’s burned-out shell of a house.
“This is a horrible idea,” I murmur to myself as I get out of the car and walk toward the house. The snow crunches under my boots and the wind immediately chaps my cheeks.
I gape at the devastation in front of me, my heart aching. I knew it was bad, but I hadn’t seen the destruction with my own eyes. The fire nearly destroyed everything. The only somewhat unmarred part that remains is the back wall of the house. The rest is burned down to the frame until now only a charred husk is left.
I don’t trust the porch, so I walk over to the side of the house. The layout of this villa is essentially the same as Roman’s house where Bram has been staying for the last few months. I know that I’m staring into the master bedroom, even without what’s left of the furniture to give it away. There’re the remnants of what used to be a bed, a dresser, a TV that’s been melted completely and half hanging off a fragment of the wall. The closet is exposed. I don’t know why that’s where I’m drawn, but something compels me to step into the rubble and go straight for that space.
Bram told me once that he was able to save some photographs of his mother. But those were part of what he lost in the fire. I have no idea if he kept them in his living room or in the den, but something is propelling me toward this closet.
“Do not step on rusty metal. Tetanus is the last thing you need.” I talk to myself as I pick my way through the debris on the floor. Once I’m in the closet, there are fragments of burned clothing, and shelving that has warped and collapsed. Pieces of drywall that somehow managed to survive and are piled up on top of the charred remnants of shoes. I lift one of the pieces of drywall, revealing an old soot-stained shoebox. It’s blackened almost beyond recognition. I’m afraid if I touch it, the whole thing will crumble into pieces. Instinctively, I know this is what I’m looking for.
I murmur a prayer to the Crone, wishing I knew a spell to preserve things. Miraculously, when I lift the box, it doesn’t fall apart in my hands. It’s actually holding together better than I expected. With careful movements, I lift the lid and peer inside.
“Photos,” I whisper and the tears that I’ve barely been holding back all afternoon start to fall again. They’re so burned. The old film paper has blistered and melted. They’re ruined.
“No. Nothing in this life is so far gone that it can’t be fixed.” What’s the point in having magic if we can’t do a damn thing with it.
I carry the box back to my car like it’s a newborn baby. I will fix this.