41. Wes
CHAPTER 41
WES
It isn’t easy, but I make it through the Halloween party without punching someone’s face in. Everyone’s talking about how this one was even better than last year’s, and while I’d ordinarily be sipping a beer and getting my dick sucked for a job well done after pulling it off, I’m pushing through the back entry to Ava’s torture room, a ragged breath escaping my lips when I find her still in one piece.
This isn’t right. She’s our Doll, not our fucking punching bag. As fun as the games have been, this was too far, even for Raf.
The screams fade as the last thrill-seeking co-eds stumble through the exit, the soles of my boots squeaking against the floor as I stride over to Ava and reach up for the straps restraining her wrists. She’s completely drained, her body limp like the last few hours sucked every ounce of life out of her. The usual fire in her eyes has dimmed to a dull flicker, hitting me like a punch to the gut.
Ava owned her punishment, putting on a performance worthy of her position as Doll. But it came with a cost, one I’m not sure any of us can afford.
“Wes?” Ava whispers, as if she’s just realized I’m standing right in front of her.
“Told you I’d be back,” I murmur, fingers working the leather strap through the loop until her wrists slip free. I’m quick to catch her as she collapses forward, guiding her arms down to her sides and steadying her before dropping to unfasten the straps holding her ankles.
I want to beat the shit out of Raf for this; for putting her through it and not fucking telling me his plan. Even if I couldn’t have stopped it, at least I wouldn’t have had to walk in here and see her like that.
Freeing her ankles, she sways on her feet as I straighten to stand. I steady her with one hand as I pull off my hoodie with the other and help her into it. Her movements are robotic, a far-off look in her eyes as she goes through the motions. Then she suddenly flinches, darting a panicked glance toward the hall. “Is he... is Raf here?”
“No,” I bite out.
She looks up at me with unfocused eyes, blinking chaotically in an effort to make sense of the last few hours. “Why’d you leave?”
I force my expression to remain neutral, jaw set tight. “You belong to all of us,” I grit out. “But this was between you and Raf.”
Ava’s shoulders sag under the weight of the oversized hoodie and my answer. I don’t like seeing her look so small, but at least she’s got enough left in her to still be standing. That’s more than a lot of people would have at this point.
Sliding my arm around her waist, I urge her to walk with me, guiding her through the narrow passageways of the maze. I know the layout like the back of my hand, so in just a few turns we’re at the front of the boathouse, exiting through the double doors and stepping out into the frigid October air. Ava shivers, drawing her arms tighter around herself, the sleeves of my hoodie flopping over her hands.
Ford’s leaning up against the side of the building, spinning his knife in his fingers. He looks from me to Ava as he pushes off the wall, a smirk twitching at his lips.
“Congrats, baby girl,” he drawls, striding over to join us. “You were everyone’s favorite attraction.”
“At least they’ve got good taste,” Ava mutters, and Ford lets out a laugh.
I grunt in frustration, still too wound up for my own good. “Here, hop on,” I say, stepping in front of Ava and sinking into a crouch. “I’ll give you a ride back. Unless you want Ford to do the honors.”
Her eyes dart over to him, and for a second, I regret even suggesting it. But then she moves forward, climbing on my back and looping her arms around my neck. She’s light as a goddamn feather as I push to my feet, and she buries her face in crook of my neck as I start down the slope toward the path back to Sutton Hall. Ford falls in step right beside us, and before long we’re climbing the stairs up to our apartment, unlocking the door.
I push it open, and I feel Ava’s body tense against my back as soon as we’re inside, like she’s expecting Raf to be lurking in the shadows.
“Relax, he’s not here,” I tell her, carrying her over to the couch and setting her down. She curls up against the arm, pulling my hoodie tighter around her like a security blanket. She looks like hell, skin still marred with purple ink, but all I can think about is how fucking good she looks in my clothes.
Ford flops down next to her, arm draping over the back of the couch. “Considering the shape he was in before we left the boathouse, I’m betting he’ll pass out in the loft.”
Ava looks from Ford to me, and I can see how wrecked she is.
“What do you need?” I ask, even though I shouldn’t.
“To not be alone.” Her answer comes quick, like she doesn’t even mean to say it out loud.
“You can crash in my bed, Ava baby,” Ford drawls, winking at her.
“Or mine,” I say, a little too fucking quickly. As close as she seems to be getting with Ford lately, Ava’s still keeping me at arm’s length, and it’s slowly driving me insane.
I’m the fucking nice one.
“Okay,” she replies, her voice cracking a little.
It takes a second for me to realize that she’s holding my gaze, not Ford’s.
She’s picking me .
I hold out a hand, and she lets me pull her up from the couch, glancing over at Ford.
“See you tomorrow,” she says softly, voice breathy with exhaustion.
“See you in my dreams,” he fires back, licking his teeth.
Fucking psychopath.
Letting Ava take the lead, I follow her down the hallway toward my room, reaching past her to push the door open. Her head swivels to take in my space as we enter, everything neat and orderly, the bed crisply made.
“Not what you expected?” I ask, closing the door behind us. “I forgot you’re used to Ford’s room, that place looks like a bomb went off in it.”
“No kidding,” she snorts, advancing further into my space and stopping in front of the bulletin board above my desk. She squints at the family photo pinned at the bottom, lips pursing in consideration. “Is this your family?”
“Not anymore,” I grumble.
Ava turns toward me, her eyes searching mine for more of an answer. When I don’t give it, she steps over to sit down on the edge of my bed, my hoodie swallowing up her small frame.
Closing the distance in a few strides, I sink down next to her, sweeping a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. “You probably wanna take a shower, huh? You can use mine.”
She looks down at the markings on her bare legs, features contorting in disgust. “I guess I should,” she mutters. Taking another few seconds to collect herself, she pushes up to stand, heading for the bathroom and shutting herself inside.
I ease back on my bed, staring at the closed door and listening to the water running, still surprised she trusts me enough to be in my space. My mind drifts off as she takes her time in the shower, then I finally grab a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts from my dresser for her to wear before taking out my contacts, stripping down to my boxers, and climb into bed.
When Ava finally emerges from the bathroom she’s like a damn vision, steam billowing out behind her as she floats across the room wrapped in a towel. Her skin is bright pink from how hard she’s scrubbed it, but the ink’s gone, the evidence of her torture washed down the drain.
“You can put those on, if you want,” I offer, pointing to the clothes folded at the foot of the bed. “Or you can sleep naked. Think you already know which option I’d pick.”
She rolls her eyes, padding over to the end of the bed and snatching up the t-shirt and boxers I laid out for her. My pulse skips when she drops the towel and starts pulling them on, climbing into bed beside me and tucking her legs under the covers. She smells like my soap and shampoo, giving rise to some primal sense of possession.
I slip and arm around Ava and she curls in toward me, her body warm and soft against mine, hair damp from the shower.
“Tonight was horrible,” she rasps, voice muffled as she nuzzles against my chest. “I hate him.”
I make a scoffing sound in my throat. “You should hate all of us.”
“I do.”
“Ouch.”
Ava’s wry chuckle vibrates against my skin, her fingertips tracing the dips of my abs. “Don’t act like you care. Everyone else was picking me apart tonight, but you guys have been doing it from day one.”
I heave a sigh, tossing an arm up on the pillow beside my head and letting the full weight of that truth settle over me.
“You have no idea what it’s like to be looked at like that,” she mutters, biting out every word. “For people to see you at your worst, take one look and pass judgment.”
“Yeah I do,” I murmur, staring up at the ceiling as I stroke a hand down her spine.
Ava pulls back just enough to look at me, brows drawn in. “Yeah right. You , of all people, have no clue.”
“You think I’ve always looked like this?” I growl, her accusation picking at the scabs of old wounds. “Back in the day, girls would fucking laugh when I asked them out. Ford and Raf had chicks crawling all over them, but I was a skinny fucking dweeb who nobody looked twice at.”
Ava blinks at me, like I just told her the earth is flat. “You?”
“Believe it or not,” I grumble. “I woke up one day and decided I was done with rejection, so I hit the gym hard. I bulked up, got contact lenses, and stopped being such a goddamn pussy. Now I can’t keep the ladies off me.” The corner of my mouth twitches up in a smirk as I nod down at the way she’s snuggled in against my chest. “Case in point.”
“Shut up and turn the lights off,” she quips, rolling off me and flipping the other way. “I need to sleep.”
I reach over to the nightstand and tap the lamp, my room descending into pitch black darkness as the bulb extinguishes. Ava’s breath hitches, and I roll onto my side, banding an arm around her waist and tugging her body against mine.
She may think she’s proving some sort of point right now by turning her back on me, but I have zero complaints about the way her ass is molding to my cock.
I have no idea how I’m gonna sleep tonight with her hot little body pressed against me, but it feels like she belongs in my bed.
And that’s an issue I’ll just have to wait to sort the fuck out another day.