43. Ava #2
Light blisters against my vision, too bright, too raw.
The room spins in nauseating circles, the walls pulsing with each throb of my skull like they’re breathing in tandem with me.
It takes everything not to retch on the floor.
Tears sting at the corners of my eyes. My lungs flutter, struggling to draw in air that won’t come clean.
Then the world sharpens—painfully, cruelly—into clarity.
“Well, well, well . . .” The voice slithers out from the shadows, oozing satisfaction. “Look who’s finally decided to wake up.”
The nausea spikes so hard I nearly lose it right there.
Alex.
He’s draped in a rusted, cracked metal chair in the corner like he owns the fucking world, one leg crossed lazily over the other, arms spread like a bored king surveying his new toy.
“Sleep well?”
“You . . .” My voice scrapes out of my throat like broken glass. I can barely form words through the fury threatening to combust inside me. “You fucking asshole .”
He smiles, completely unbothered. “I tried to help you, Ava. I really did.”
With a lazy nudge of his foot, he kicks a filthy metal bowl across the floor toward me. Water sloshes inside, bits of dirt and hair swirling on the surface.
“Go on,” he says. “You’re probably thirsty.”
Like I’m a fucking dog.
I grip the bowl and hurl it across the room with every ounce of strength I can muster. It bounces off the ground, spilling water over his boots.
“Drink it yourself, dickhead.”
His jaw ticks. The gleam in his eyes dims, just a fraction, replaced by something hungrier. Meaner.
“Tsk-tsk.” His voice takes on that condescending lilt, like he’s scolding a child. “See? I told you Cross was a bad influence. Listen to that mouth. Not very becoming, Ava.”
He reaches beside him and lifts a tray—dry toast curled at the edges, pale and lifeless like it died weeks ago.
“Hungry?” He tosses it at me, and it lands with a soft plop at my feet.
“Fuck you.”
His grin widens. Predatory. All teeth, no soul. “We’ll get there.”
Something icy unfurls in my chest.
“Eat,” he orders.
“No.”
His expression hardens. The playful cruelty drains away, replaced with something colder.
“Ava, Ava, Ava . . .” He stands slowly, his boots echoing against the concrete. “You’re not making this easy.”
Then his hand cracks across my face.
My head snaps to the side, the sound of it echoing off the walls like a gunshot. A flash of white heat bursts across my cheek, blooming into sharp, stinging pain. I taste blood—warm and metallic, in my mouth.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, but his voice is hollow. Mechanical. Like he’s rehearsed that line a hundred times. “But I gave you an order.”
“Go to hell,” I hiss, copper on my tongue.
“Sweetheart,” he says, crouching in front of me, voice almost tender. “Can’t you see? You’re already there.”
His cologne hits me—sickly clean, sharp, and artificial. It doesn’t cover the rot clinging to the walls. It makes it worse.
I try to shrink back, but the wall is already against my spine. My body trembles. Ice coats my veins.
“Are you doing this because I rejected you?” I ask, trying to buy time, to breathe. “Or because you’re working for my father?”
He laughs—a low, cold chuckle that guts the room of warmth.
“Poor, simple Ava. You really don’t know anything, do you?”
His gaze sharpens as confusion tightens my gut.
“Why do you think I took the job at Cross Estate, Ava?”
My stomach sinks as realization sets in.
“It . . . it was you.” The words barely escape my lips. “This whole time . . .”
“You didn’t know?” Alex raises an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Come on, Ava. You’re smarter than that.”
“You set us up,” I whisper, the truth slipping through me like poison.
“Very good, beautiful.”
He leans forward and brushes hair from my face. I flinch, every inch of my skin crawling.
He pulls a knife from his pocket. Cold steel catches the light, flickering like lightning across my vision. “Your father murdered mine, and you want to know the truth?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, closing my eyes and praying to whatever power is in the universe that I could be anywhere but here.
“I was happy to watch the old bastard die. He was never a father to me, but . . . with his death, the connections died too. Everything I’d worked for under my pathetic, miserable excuse of a father, and for what?
” I shake my head, but he grips my chin tighter.
“I lost everything because of your family. Now . . . I’m going to pay him the same respect. ”
He runs it along my thigh absentmindedly, his gaze searching mine.
“I always found you so beautiful, Ava—such pretty eyes. I can see now why Cross is so obsessed with you. That’s what makes this part so tragic.”
Then he stabs the knife into my leg.
I scream when the sharp end of the blade pierces my skin. Pain explodes through my leg, hot and unbearable. My jeans darken as blood seeps from the wound, the sight of it making my vision sway.
“Where is he?” he asks, calm and emotionless, like he’s asking for the weather. His voice carves through the pain, razor sharp and unrelenting.
“I don’t know!” I sob, my voice cracking. “I don’t know! ”
He twists the blade, digging it deeper.
The world implodes into white-hot pain. I scream, raw and primal.
“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth, Ava.” He tilts his head. “You see . . . I know Cross. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight. And your father’s paying him oh so well to keep an eye on you. So, either you’ve run away like a naughty little pet, or he’s dead.”
“We’re broken up,” I choke. “I haven’t seen him in a week.”
Alex takes my face in his hands, suddenly soft as he brushes a tear from my cheek—like a mockery of tenderness.
“Shhh . . . I don’t care about Cross. Where is Nolan Marks?”
I jerk away, but he grabs my chin, fingers turning to iron.
“Where is he, Ava?”
“I don’t know,” I whimper, every nerve screaming. My body feels like it’s been lit on fire, like he’s melting me from the inside out.
“Just tell me, Ava, and I’ll set you free. You won’t have to see me ever again.”
“You’re a fucking monster.”
Alex has the audacity to look bored.
“Yes, but of course, you already knew that . . . Didn’t you, sweetheart? Or do you only respond to baby girl ?”
I glare up at him.
“ Fuck. You .”
Alex grins.
“You know, I really enjoyed the little show you put on at the cabin.” His voice turns cruel. “Tied up and begging for Cross to fuck you. I was surprised. But then, I always knew you were a whore.”
“I hope he finds you,” I spit through my teeth. “And when he does, I hope he rips you apart piece by piece until you beg for death.”
“Sh, sh, shhh . . .” He taps my cheek gently.
“Poetic justice, isn’t it? I’m going to kill your father.
Cross next, and you—well, you’re the icing on the cake.
I’ll make him watch while I fuck you. Then he can sit in a pool of your blood while you bleed out.
And when I’m done, I’ll take my time finishing off the youngest Cross brother. ”
“You’re pathetic,” I whisper, forcing every ounce of venom into the words.
The flicker in his eyes—rage, sharp and unrestrained—tells me I’ve struck the nerve I was aiming for.
“See? That’s the problem with you, Ava. You still think someone’s coming to save you. Cross isn’t a hero. He never was. He’s just a man who likes to pretend he’s better than the rest of us.”
I shake my head, my voice hoarse. “He’s not you.”
That earns me a sharp laugh. “No. He’s worse. At least I don’t lie about what I am.”
He pulls out a phone, and my stomach clenches as he hits a button.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get what I need one way or another.”
The dial tone rings.
“No,” I breathe.
Please, God—
“No!” I scream when he stands.
The line clicks. The ringing stops.
And then—
“Where is she?”
I close my eyes, tears slipping down my cheeks at the sound of Levi’s voice. Dark and sinister. Deadly.
Alex looks over his shoulder at me and grins. I glare at him through the tears in my eyes.
“Hello, golden boy.”
My vision swims. Just the sound of him makes my chest ache. I want to crawl through the phone and fall into his arms. Hearing his voice, my body aches for him like it’s next breath.
“If you hurt even a single fucking hair on her head,” Levi says, venom in every syllable, “I promise I’m the last thing you’ll see before God.”
Alex chuckles menacingly, his menacing smile widening to show his teeth. “God doesn’t want me, Cross.” He squats back down in front of me, eyes black and soulless. “It’s the devil I’ll see, and when I do, I’m taking your pretty little whore with me.”
“You know I’m going to hunt you down.” Levi’s voice drops to a whisper, more terrifying than a scream. “And when I find you, I’ll feed your balls to you like hors d’oeuvres while you bleed out in whatever cesspool you’re hiding out in.”
Alex shrugs. “Relax, your little pet is alive for now. See?”
He thrusts the phone in my face, and I suck in a shaky breath, my throat cracking with emotion.
“L-Levi?”
“Baby, I’m coming for you.” I blink back tears, knowing that there’s no way we both make it out of this alive.
His voice is rough, vehement on the other end, and suddenly it’s like the last week didn’t happen. All I want to do is go to him and let him hold me. Forget everything that happened and just soak in the warmth and safety of his touch.
“Levi . . . I’m scared,” I whisper, and Alex laughs sadistically.
“I know, baby,” Levi says. “Just hold on. I’ll explain everything to you later, just don’t—”
“Time’s up. Sorry, I’m a very busy man.” Alex steps back, and I let out a hoarse scream of anger. “You have one hour to get me Nolan Marks. If you fail, I’m slicing her throat.”
Click.
Then silence.
Alex slides the phone back into his pocket and steps over to me.
I shrink away from him, but he’s faster, grabbing the handle of the knife and ripping it out of my leg.
I scream at the pain, arching against the brick wall behind me when he steps back, as nonchalant as if he were contemplating taking a walk.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” he says as he heads towards the door. He turns back to me, smiling with his hand on the handle. “Don’t forget to finish your dinner.”