21. Ava
21
AVA
I ’m restless. Scared.
Full of worry. A gut feeling that’s made me scrub Elijah’s home from top to bottom—work myself into a state of exhaustion that keeps my mind from falling down the rabbit hole of despair. From thinking the worst.
That he’s hurt. That he’s in danger. That he’s out there looking for Lyle, God knows where.
So many things could happen. Could go wrong. And what’s worse, I can’t do anything to stop this.
Keep it together. He’ll be okay.
“Breathe in and out, Ava. Everyone will be okay,” I repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. My mantra. Maybe if I say it enough, I will put it into existence. But then I remember another set of words.
Words he told me a few weeks ago.
He’s human. We all are.
And it’s that what-if that’s killing me. It’s hitting me so hard in the chest because I failed to stay away. I fell for him. Completely and utterly.
Moreover, while I didn’t mean to, I’m paying the price of my stupidity.
Not that it could be stopped, but I knew from the moment our eyes met that being together would hurt. That letting my walls down would be my—our—downfall.
If he doesn’t come back home in one piece, I’ll ? —
No. I won’t even entertain the idea. Can’t.
Closing the top drawer of the dresser inside my room, I stretch my neck, and the small pop it gives doesn’t ease a single bit of the tension there. Instead, it pulls a bit, and I hiss in discomfort, bringing a hand up to massage the sore spot while holding my clothing with the other.
I’m stressed and tired. Need him to come back home to me.
“Any minute now, Ava. Trust him to know what he’s doing.” Dropping my towel, I slip a pair of yellow polka dot boy shorts up my hips and then a pair of his boxers that I stole while washing his laundry. A tight tank top with a built-in bra in the same black as his underwear finishes my attire.
It’s comfy. Makes me feel closer to him somehow to wear something of his.
With a quick spritz of body spray and my hair thrown up in a messy bun, I’m out the door and heading back to his kitchen. Well, almost—my favorite pair of socks, fuchsia and fuzzy, go on my feet first before heading to take out the trash.
There’s a chute near the center of this floor, and I feel okay throwing it out by myself, knowing that Elijah went after Lyle. That while I hate him being anywhere near the asshole, Eli knows where Lyle is, and that’s not in this building.
Before opening the door, I look out through the peephole and see nothing. I stand there for a bit and watch, and after there’s no movement for several minutes, I open the door.
For some reason, the moment I step through the threshold, my skin breaks out in goosebumps, and my breathing picks up. Foreboding takes hold, and I pause just a few steps away. There’s something in the air all around me, something that makes me want to run back inside and lock myself away.
I’m being ridiculous. No one’s here.
I know this. Can see this.
“Just take the garbage and get back inside. No one is here. You are safe.” Nodding to myself, I take a second to inhale deeply, letting out each breath slowly to help calm my nerves. Five times I do this, and it’s on the last one that I begin to feel a bit of ease seep through.
My heart loses its galloping beat; the harsh thumping slows as my shaking limbs cease to twitch. Freaking out while Elijah isn’t here won’t help me or this situation, and I repeat that thought along with my mantra enough that I’m able to follow through with the simple task of dumping the garbage.
Sure, I rush to do it, but I focus on the positive: that I did it.
It takes me longer to clear my head than to do the task, and within minutes, I’m back inside. The soft thud of the door closing is a welcomed noise, and more so is the click of the lock that follows. There are two of them that I turn before setting the alarm and walking toward his living room.
On the way there, I make a quick pit stop inside his kitchen and grab a can of Olipop. I haven’t had dinner, and eating something right now isn’t going to happen with my nerves being shot, so drinking something with a hint of sweetness is the next best thing.
And it’s while I’m in the kitchen that the house phone rings.
My first thought is that it has to be Elijah, and I rush to grab the cordless device from its place inside his office. The room is dark, and I pause near the entrance. That’s not how I left it.
Before taking a shower, I made sure that every room had one light on.
“What the fuck?” I whisper, my heart racing as I reach for the small switch on the wall to my left. Finding it isn’t an issue, and within seconds, I flip it. Nothing happens, though, and I do it again. Off and on. Off and on. “Lightbulb must’ve gone out.”
It’s the only plausible explanation, and I step further inside to reach the still-ringing phone. I’m just a few steps away when it stops, only to start again within seconds.
Grabbing it off the corner of his desk, I hit the talk button. “Hello?”
“Ava.” Elijah’s voice comes through the line like a soothing balm. At once, my body calms, and my breathing begins to settle. Just hearing him—knowing he’s okay—gives me back the calm he took with him when he walked out the door. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“I’m...I’ve?—”
“Everything is okay.” Christ, how I needed to hear those words. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be back a bit later than anticipated, but it’ll be tonight. Don’t wait for me to eat.”
“And you promise all is good?” Taking the phone with me, I walk out of the darkness and head straight for the couch in the living room. The early evening sky is gorgeous this time of day, and I sit, looking out as we talk. “There’s no reason for me to worry?”
What I want to ask is if they have Jason. If my nightmare is over.
“None. I swear.” Voices are coming closer, and then a few doors close, like that of a vehicle. My suspicions are confirmed when the engine of a loud car starts, and then a siren follows. “I’ll call you as soon as we get back. Stay inside and wait for me,” he yells out, and I nod as if he could see me. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes. I’ll stay in. Just come back safe.”
“I’ll always come back.” That’s the last thing he says before the click, signaling the end of our call. His words reassure me, and I listen. Truly let them sink into my heart and mind as I grab the remote and turn the TV on, flipping through a few channels until I find one of my favorite shows playing on a marathon. Dr. Pol is the bomb, and I let his amazingness take me away and distract me with the cuteness of a state fair and the kids with their pets.
I make it through four episodes before my eyes become heavy. Each tick of the clock is a struggle to stay awake, and as the intro to another episode begins, I give in.
Sleep takes me, but it’s restless. Uncomfortable.
I’m dreaming, floating through an abyss of nothing as a giant screen in front of me plays out a movie reel of that night. I can hear his laugh. His promise to come back for me.
No one will save you. You’re mine, Ava. Always have been.
There’s a sensation over my right arm. I can’t quite make out what it is, but it feels wrong. Makes my stomach turn as the invisible grip tightens. It’s painful, and I whimper out, tears running down my cheek as the helplessness settles in. Even in my dreams, I can’t escape him.
Feels so real. Even his breath on my skin is the same—produces the same taste of bile in the back of my throat.
You’ll pay for your betrayal, pet. Bathing in his blood will be your penance.
Images flip through my subconscious, each more grotesque than the last, and as one of a dead Elijah takes the forefront, I awake, sweaty, panting, aware that something isn’t right.
Throwing my legs over the side of the couch, I begin to stand. “It’s just a dream,” I say, my voice low and shaky. My eyes shift over to the sliding glass doors, and I take in just how dark it is already. I must’ve been asleep for a while.
Still, there’s an unsettling feeling that runs down my spine, and I shiver. And it’s in my mild panic that I notice that the lights that were on are now off. Nothing except for the television remains on, and I need to remind myself all over again of Elijah’s words.
“I’m safe here.”
“Are you?” As the words slip past his lips, the small lamp beside him flips on, illuminating Lyle’s rough features. He’s angry. A bit dirty. He’s also standing while holding a large blade in his hands that he flips between his fingers without a care, not paying a lick of attention to the blood coating his skin, which appears to have a dozen tiny cuts. “Who’s going to protect you, Sugar? That pussy fucking detective?”
“How did...?” The words get stuck in my throat. Fear—fight or flight—sits heavy on my chest, and I take a step to the side. Then another. I’m thinking. Begging God silently for a way out.
All I need is a chance.
“You shouldn’t wander the halls alone, little Ava. Not even to throw away the garbage,” he drawled, eyes hungrily wandering over my exposed skin. “Never know who’s lurking.”
“That’s a lie. The corridor was?—”
“My naive little girl.” He tsks, thumbs running across the steel edge of the knife. “So lost in your emotions that you never looked toward the small alcove on your left. Not even a flicker of awareness as you blindly gave yourself an adorable yet useless pep talk before putting the garbage inside the chute.”
“Christ.” Another step, and he mimics me with one forward. “You’ve been here this entire time? The lights?—”
“Me. I’ve enjoyed watching you again after all this time.”
“Again?” I ask, just as his head turns toward the balcony and the night sky. Either he doesn’t care or is extremely sure of himself because he doesn’t so much as move a muscle as I rush toward the room’s entrance.
“Are you looking to play a game?” That question makes me pause as I place my foot in the hallway, mind working quickly. “Perhaps hide-and-seek?”
“Answer the question, Lyle.” I see my room door is closed, and so is the office, and curse my idiocy. Head for Elijah’s room. His closet has a gun and emergency phone. It’s a somewhat safe room; the door is heavy, thick, and in reinforced steel, as is the surrounding structure. Elijah told me bullets wouldn’t get through and that if the worst came to be, to make it inside and hide near the far back so I’d be out of the line of fire.
It should hold him back long enough for me to call for help.
All I need to do is make it to the other side before...
“You first.” Two large hands wrap around my waist, and I freeze. They pull me against an un-showered body, and there’s no mistaking his hard cock as it presses against my ass. There’s a second or two of shock and disgust and so much sudden adrenaline that I begin to shake uncontrollably.
My vision becomes hazy, and all I see around me is that woman inside his house. Her body. Her eyes as they lock with mine.
Blood. Red. It’s everywhere.
A loud wail rends the air then, and it’s full of this haunting terror that hurts my head.
“Just like that, little Ava. Scream for me.” His breath is hot against my neck, and it’s enough to silence the scream. To silence me. “Awww, baby. Don’t stop. I rather enjoy you like this.”
“Please.” It’s all I manage to get past the lump in my throat. “Why are you doing this, Lyle?”
“Took you long enough,” he spits out, grip on me tightening to the point it hurts. So much so that I yelp, which makes him chuckle. “How could you forget me? After everything we’ve been through?”
“Let me go.” It’s a hiss through clenched teeth.
“You have better manners than that. Your mother was a stickler for it.”
“Please.”
“Was that so hard?” I don’t respond, and he doesn’t release me, either. Instead, he sniffs my hair—rubs himself against me—and it takes everything in me not to gag. To not further set him off. “You know, I changed everything about me for you, and it still wasn’t enough. My hair. My clothes…”
“I never asked anything of you, Lyle, other than to be left alone.”
“Fuck that, Sugar. If anyone’s angry here, it’s me. Don’t give me any of that sass.” He rubs himself against me, the knife in his hand stopping just below my breast. “I’ve been patient and more than kind, but you’ve never seen me. I tried it the nice way, and now I’m done waiting.”
Keep calm. Get to Elijah’s room.
Keep calm. Get to Elijah’s room.
Keep calm. Get to Elijah’s room.
Taking in a deep breath, I exhale slowly and toe off my fuzzy socks with the back of my foot, trying not to draw too much attention. He’s busy burying his nose in my hair and muttering something too low for me to hear, but once they’re off, I brace my feet.
“Leave, and don’t come back.”
“When I go, it’ll be with you.” Lips come down on my cheek, his tongue following the path down to my jaw, licking the few tears that have escaped. There’s a deep groan that comes from the back of his throat a second before his hands tighten again—fingers painfully digging into my hips. “After I kill the cock-sucking pig that thought to touch what’s mine, that is.”
“What are you?—”
“You think I didn’t have eyes on you? The way he held you on that pier is?—”
“Stay away from him.”
“Make me.” Those words awaken something in me. There’s a sudden shift that I can’t even begin to comprehend, and I don’t attempt to. Instead, I let instincts take over, and I throw my head back with all my might. Screw the pain; I will fight back. Just the thought—his threatening words against Eli—seems to spark a sense of awareness inside of me that helps me push through the sudden pain of my skull connecting with his jaw. “Fuck!” he yells out, and his hold lessens just enough for me to use the momentum and stomp on his foot.
Once. Twice. Hard. With all my weight. My goal is to break his toe if possible.
“No, asshole. Fuck you!” I throw my elbow back, landing somewhere between his neck and face. It does the job, and I’m pushed away, a natural reaction from him, and I run. Take off toward Elijah’s bedroom at full speed, and I almost make it inside when I’m grabbed once again.
This time, it’s by my hair. Lyle pulls hard enough to force a scream from my throat, a sound that makes him laugh as I’m roughly turned around and shoved against the closed bedroom door.
My only escape is so close.
“Since when do you have a fighting spirit, Sugar? It’s cute.” His body crowds mine. His face tips down toward me. “Answer the question.” I don’t say a word, just bite down hard on my bottom lip to hold in my whimpers—to not give him what he wants. My pain. My misery. My fear. “I’ll make you motherfucking talk, Ava. Don’t push me this soon.”
Another warning I ignore. His hold on my hair tightens, and I can taste the blood from how hard I embed my teeth. For some reason, his anger toward me turns into a sinister laugh a second later. His hold doesn’t ease, but his eyes close, and his body moves back an inch or two.
Just enough space.
Just enough of an opening for me to bring my knee up.
This hit is different. Hurts him where all men are sensitive.
He drops before me like dead weight, almost bringing me down with him, and when he doesn’t release my hair, I reach out with my hand and punch him straight between his legs. His scream makes me smile, and it’s also the opening I need.
Two inhales later, and I’m inside Elijah’s bedroom, slamming the door closed and turning the lock. For a few seconds, there’s no noise. No movement. Yet, I don’t wait for the inevitable.
Eli’s closet is just across the room, and I dart toward it without conscious thought. The door is heavy, and it’s hard to push closed, but I manage right before Jason crashes through the bedroom one.
It splinters, and debris flies everywhere, but I’m already safely inside. I walk the short way toward the back, where Elijah keeps a burner phone and Glock for me, and have the drawer halfway open when the first hit to the entrance comes.
It’s loud, and I scream, almost dropping the phone in my hand. With shaky fingers, I tighten my grip and then hit the power button on the side. A low chime comes from the device before Lyle delivers another blow. “Open the fucking door, Ava. Don’t force me to hurt you.”
I don’t reply. My focus is on the device in my hands.
On pressing the number 1 and bringing it to my ear.
It rings. Once. Twice. And then heavy breathing follows...
“Baby?” A bullet hits the door, then another, and I fight back the scream that wants to break through. My body’s shaking, and I feel as though this is our goodbye. “Ava, what’s happening? I’m on my way back...it was all a?—”
“He’s here, Eli. He found me.”