Chapter 19 Ava
NINETEEN
AVA
The air shifts around me. The sudden feeling of flying hits before I land on a soft pad that creaks beneath my dead weight. My head aches something fierce. Nausea roils in my gut, twisting and pulling, threatening a mess. I roll toward the edge of the mattress, in my half-aware state, just in case.
My eyes peek open, landing on the familiar paintings decorating my dresser. We’re back at the cabin, but the frigid air cuts across my cheeks. No better than being outside.
Why did he bring me back here? Doesn’t he realize Scott will find me? Or did I just imagine his voice in the woods?
Rough hands tug at my boots, quickly removing my socks. Tingling needle pricks dance across my skin, causing a full-body shiver.
“Shh, I’ll get you warm, little thorn.”
My whimper of unease fills the small room, but it doesn’t deter his fast-working hands. He reaches up to unzip my jacket, and I jerk out of his grasp, back hitting the metal bars of the headboard.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I hiss.
“Now, don’t be like that, beautiful. You’re shivering, frozen to the bone. I need to warm you up before you turn hypothermic.”
His tone is coaxing, so caring and soft. Yet, his eyes are dead, blackholes of nothing gliding across my frame.
He reaches forward again, fingers drifting closer to the zipper on my jacket.
The second he’s close enough, my arm swings out, clocking him against the cheek.
It’s not hard enough to incapacitate him.
He doesn’t so much as flinch at the strike, but his nostrils flare and his piercing gaze cuts to mine.
There’s no time, no space to back away before his closed fist impacts against my jaw. Pain ricochets everywhere, worse than the hit to my head earlier. Blackness dots the edges of my vision. But I fight against it. Refusing to let this man have me in such a state.
“Look what you made me do, Ava.” He paces next to the bed, fingers tangling in his long auburn locks. “I don’t want to hurt you. But you will listen to me.”
How did this happen? I was supposed to be rescuing Scott, getting him out of harm’s way. Now here I am, his next victim, with no plan of escape.
He’s caught up in his internal musing, boots leaving a muddy path against the wooden floors. Before my brain can catch up with my body, I shove forward, feet finding purchase on the ground.
Maybe if I can gain some distance, get to the bathroom, and lock myself in. Or rush to the front door and hide in the shed—anything to get away from this man, who’s obviously lost his last shred of sanity.
A spark of hope lights in my chest when I make it through the door and out into the hall. My fingers wrap around the front door handle and turn, seconds to earning my escape.
Until my vision swims, pain laces through my scalp, and I’m yanked viciously into a hard surface.
“Everything I’ve done to give us this time together.”
His free arm ropes around my midsection, removing any distance between our bodies. The unwanted intimate closeness pulls tears from my eyes. My gut sinks with uncertainty.
His lips are pressed flush against my ear, spittle flies through the air, landing against my cheek, as he says, “Stop being such an ungrateful little bitch, Ava. I just want to show you how much I love you. But you keep trying to run from me, and that’s not going to work, little thorn.”
“Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”
And I won’t. If he’ll just let me go and leave, no one needs to know that this ever happened. Though I can’t guarantee Scott will feel the same if he ever finds us.
“I didn’t spend the last few days in the woods, freezing my balls off to stop this now.”
He doesn’t let me go. Simply lifts my feet from the ground and turns, moving back to my bedroom. Only this time, when we step back into the space, there’s a coil of rope on the bed.
Flailing my limbs doesn’t get me far. “No. No, please. Don’t do this. God, Braxton, you can’t think this is the way to do this.”
His entire frame goes instantly still with my words, and I do too. The energy shift is immediate. Alarm bells sound in my head.
Fuck, did I mess up?
My feet connect with the floor, and though he doesn’t let me go, his hold loosens. Rough fingers grip around my waist, spinning me to face the monster behind me.
“I knew you remembered.”
His eyes light with pure joy, sending a shiver of unease down my spine. How quickly he switches from one extreme to the other is enough to give anyone emotional whiplash.
If only I could fight him off. But my fist did nothing to stop him, and I don’t keep anything useful stashed away within reach. With the way his hold refuses to leave my skin for a moment, a second chance to run doesn’t seem to be in my future, either.
Scott could be out there, moments from ripping the front door off the hinges, seconds from stomping out this nightmare. Or he could still be passed out cold on the floor of that hut so deep in the woods he’d never hear me scream.
It’s only me. And it’s now or never.
Drawing in the deepest settling breath, I raise my softened gaze to meet his.
“Of course I remember. How could I forget you, Braxton?” I ask while running trembling fingers through his hair.
He leans into my touch, eyes closing for the briefest of moments. “Then, why? Why run, baby? You know I’d never do anything to hurt you. I just want us to finally be together,” he whispers, closing the space between us.
Jesus fucking Christ, this man is certifiable.
“I was scared.” I let my eyes well with the tears I’ve only just calmed. “How could you ever forgive me, after what I did?”
His lips press against my forehead, but his grip on my waist tightens, digging into my bones. He walks us back until the mattress hits the back of my thighs.
“Lay down, Ava.” His cold tone leaves no room for argument.
My ass hits the mattress. I want to keep up the charade. It’s the only thing working in my favor, but at what cost?
His fingers reach for the zipper on my jacket. This time, I don’t flinch away. Every tick of another tooth freed echoes through the room like a countdown.
How far can I let this go? Should I give in to his obvious desires if it means getting out of this… alive?
The thick winter material falls open, pilfering another layer of armor. Yet, he’s gentle when he pulls it free from my arms and drops it in the corner.
“Get under the blankets. I need to get a fire going first.”
The knot in my throat keeps my agreement tucked in tight, but he doesn’t catch my hesitation. Leaving me to listen and turning his back as if I’ve regained his trust, he moves quickly to the wood stove.
Again, I scan the room, nothing but small figurines atop my dresser, and the bedside lamp are within reach. My fingers itch to grab it, but the creak of the grate opening pulls my attention.
He’s locked on, eyes eating me alive as they take me in across the small space. I shuffle backwards, tucking beneath the blankets, and he nods his approval with a sly smirk.
I hate every second of this. This week was supposed to be a chance to unwind, spend time with my family, and play in the snow. I didn’t sign up to become another episode on a true crime podcast because some crazed stalker was obsessed with me.
“There. It should be warm in no time,” he says, standing at the foot of the bed.
Nerves ignite throughout my body as I scrounge up the courage to finally ask, “Could… could you maybe make me a cup of tea? I think it would help. Then we can talk?”
I’m not lying, a cup of tea would definitely take away the cold ingrained in my bones at this point, but it’s the time I need to come up with a plan better than letting this man take advantage of me.
“Of course. Peppermint with a bit of honey, right?”
I nod, forcing a small smile across my face. “Thank you.”
When I hear the faucet in the kitchen, I throw the blankets aside and slip to the edge of the mattress. Quietly, I pull my jacket and boots back on. My heart races with every second that passes. I try to slow it so I can listen to his footsteps in the other room.
If I can hear him, can he hear me?
It doesn’t matter. I step out into the hall, just around the corner, so if he peeks back, he won’t see me.
Should I announce I’m going to the bathroom? Or will that make him suspicious? If I don’t, will he freak out and come running when he hears the door close and the water flush?
“Hey, Braxton, I’m going to go to the bathroom,” I shout and hold my breath.
“Okay, your tea will be done soon, beautiful.”
Closed away in the bathroom, my eyes lock on my escape.
Fuck, I hope I can squeeze through that.