Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Wylan
I’m the first one to show up to Ava’s house on Saturday. I could lie and say it’s an accident, but it’s completely intentional. Any chance to get Ava alone is a chance I’m going to take. To do otherwise would be a crime to humanity. Or something like that.
I don’t bother using the front door. I simply slip in through my usual way—the side window where I know how to fiddle with the security block exactly right—and trail through the house.
I can hear giggles coming from upstairs, so I follow the sound to Ava’s bedroom and lean against the doorjamb.
Ava is standing in the middle of the room in a bloody fantastic red silk dress that highlights her curves and leaves little to the imagination.
Elsie is sitting on the bed, kicking her feet and gushing about the red dress just as much as I admire it.
“Well, look what we have here,” I say, drawing their attention. Both of them jerk and I regret my decision for a brief second until they both relax at the same time when they realize it’s only me. “I like the dress, crumpet.”
Ava flushes. “Is everyone here?”
I shake my head. “Just me.”
She eyes me. “How exactly do you get around so fast? You never use the door, and I never see a car. You’re like freaking Spiderman.”
Grinning, I shrug. I could tell her that I drive a motorbike I usually park around the corner, but where would the fun in that be? If she wants to think of me as a vigilante hero, then let her. I’d much rather her think that than her thinking I’m a villain.
Even if I very much am a villain.
“I was just finishing up,” she says, reaching for a pretty necklace sitting on the table.
“Allow me,” I murmur, coming forward and swiping up the necklace before she can grab it.
I hold it between my fingers and instruct her to spin toward the mirror.
From behind, I gently lower the necklace around her neck, the tiny golden heart hanging at her throat.
My eyes meet hers in the mirror and that throat bobs, a telltale sign that she’s as affected by me as I am by her.
I carefully clasp the necklace before settling my hands on her bare shoulders, my thumbs stroking her skin there until tiny gooseflesh pops up.
“Beautiful,” I tell her, before leaning down to press a kiss against the side of her neck. She shivers against me and flushes, but she doesn’t pull away.
“I think you need a tiara,” Elsie chimes in, reminding me that we’re not alone. “A tiara would make it even more perfect.”
Ava laughs. “It might.”
“Unfortunately, a tiara would get in the way of the mask,” I say, smiling at Elsie. “Or else I’d wear one, too.”
“Mask?” she asks, frowning. “What mask?”
“Ah, yes,” I say, launching into my debonair voice. “The rich love one thing more than anything else: debauchery. And what better way to commit sins of debauchery than behind an ornate masquerade mask?” I shrug. “The sheer number of masquerades I’ve been to would astound you.”
“Sounds fun!” Elsie gushes, her bright smile infectious.
“But I don’t have a mask,” Ava points out.
“Dagen is bringing us all one, apparently.” I move over to the bed and throw myself on it. “I, for one, am excited for the party tonight.”
Ava glances at me. “Why is that?”
I don’t answer. She knows why I’m excited. It’s our first big move against Old Ricky and I can’t wait to see his face when he’s brought down a peg or two. More than that, I’m excited for my role to change.
We haven’t discussed it with Ava yet. Dagen thinks it should be after the gala, but I think it doesn’t really matter either way.
There’s no scenario where old Ricky doesn’t meet an unfortunate end by the time we’re through with him.
Not only because men like him never stop coming after what they consider theirs, but also because of the scars I can pick out on Ava right now.
The dress reveals many of them, and I can admire the way she doesn’t hide them anymore like she had when we first began this little rendezvous.
I can make out the large, puckered scar on her collarbone, the long line along her shoulder, the small lines and raised bumps on her back.
Her arms have faint white lines along them, barely perceivable unless you’re really looking.
I also know there’s one behind her right ear that’s hidden by her hair right now, and plenty that riddle her stomach and her legs. I’ve taken note of every single one.
I can’t wait to make a mark on Old Ricky for each of hers.
“I like what you’re wearing,” Ava says, pulling me from my thoughts. “You look very handsome right now.”
“This old thing?” I preen, smoothing down the front of it. “I dug it out of the closet just for you.”
It’s a lie. I’d purchased it new yesterday.
I can’t very well attend a gala with someone as beautiful as Ava and not look the part.
I’m in all black, as is my preference, and while I’m technically wearing a suit, it’s my own version of one.
Black studs trail along the collars of my jacket, little black chains at my hip making everything punk rock.
I’d forgone dress shoes and instead wear my less scuffed up combat boots, but I’d tried to look more presentable otherwise.
The only blip of color on me is the red handkerchief in my pocket that matches the exact shade of Ava’s dress.
I’d requested it of Dagen and it had arrived barely an hour later, as if he’d already known I’d want it and had it waiting.
It sticks properly out of my pocket now.
Like a drop of blood in the darkness.
My hair is still messy around my face, but it hardly matters. I’ll be wearing a mask anyways. No one will know who I am.
Something passes between us, an awareness perhaps, but we can’t act on it in front of Elsie.
Not without raising questions or being highly inappropriate, so I bite back the words I want to say and flash a grin at her instead.
Let her guess what I’m thinking as my eyes trail over her body, burning her into my memory.
When a knock comes at the front door downstairs and Ava’s phone beeps with the notification of movement from the cameras, I leap up from the bed.
“That’ll be the others I imagine. Maybe we can convince one of them to wear a tiara,” I say, winking at Elsie.
“Yes! Let’s go convince them!” Elsie laughs. She immediately runs to grab one from her bedroom.
I seize the opportunity to wrap my hand around Ava’s wrist and jerk her against me, my hand immediately dipping down to her ass. I don’t kiss her lips. I don’t want to mess up her lipstick. Instead, I press a kiss over her collarbone, my tongue trailing along her skin there, tracing the scar.
“I’m going to shove this dress up over your hips and fuck you in it later,” I whisper in her ear, drawing another deep red flush to her cheeks. This time it trails along her neck and down to the collarbone I’d just kissed. I smile against her skin. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
“How about this one?” Elsie shouts as she reappears in the hallway.
“Perfect!” I say, turning away from Ava like nothing had happened. “It’ll really bring out Dagen’s eyes.”
And then we flit down the stairs, laughing like the little heathens we are.