Chapter 22 #2
I jogged up, keeping my footfalls silent.
“I came by to check on you,” he said.
“Bull. This is you, isn’t it?” She ripped a piece of paper off her door and shoved it into his chest. Then she clocked me behind him. “Ugh,” she groaned. “I don’t have the energy for this.”
When Steven turned, I was in his face. “Oh, look, it’s the bodyguard.” He crossed his skinny arms over a wrinkled shirt, and the notice from her door floated to the ground.
Eviction Notice.
My stomach pitted straight through the concrete.
“Seriously, everyone, just go away,” she begged.
I mirrored Steven’s stance. “Thought I made myself clear last time I saw you. You give her problems, you can deal with me.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, we’re not on your turf anymore.”
“I can punch you anywhere.” To his credit, he didn’t flinch. Maybe he thought I was joking?
“I’ll press charges,” he said.
“It’d be worth it.”
Ava covered a hand over Nina’s ear as the kid slept on. “If anyone’s doing the punching, it’ll be me. Steven, if you’re the reason I have to move again–”
“Were you aware that lying on your application breaches a contract?” Steven said.
Ava’s jaw flexed.
He shrugged. “You signed a legal document claiming income two days after sending me your registration letter. An eviction is well within legal rights.”
Her nostrils flared, and her lips got thin. “What is it you think this will accomplish?”
He slid his hands into his pants pockets. Even his back looked sleazy, full of petty threats because it had no spine. “My client is sending in a new bid. They’ll be very disappointed if the second one gets rejected.”
“Then talk to the seller,” Ava shot back.
“How about you tell Terry you changed your mind, and I’ll ask the landlord to let you stay?”
She laughed. “Seriously? That’s your bargaining chip? Give up my dreams to stay in this crummy apartment?”
I narrowed my focus to Steven’s skinny neck, playing out a few scenarios. Pretty sure my name sat at the top of Ava’s shit list, so not much to lose there. But I wouldn’t be much use to her if I had to call Dad for bail.
Steven kept talking. “You can’t win this. You don’t have the buying power.”
“Terry values morals over money.”
“Everyone has a price, Ava.”
She tilted her head in challenge.
“Is it worth it?” he asked. “All this for a dried-out patch of dirt?”
“Absolutely.”
“Your husband’s dead. This won’t bring him back.”
Ava’s expression turned stony.
Steven rocked on his heels, probably thinking he’d won. “Have fun finding a new place to live.” He turned to leave so someone else could do his dirty work. Only now he had to get through me.
He probably thought days of stubble made him suave, but he just looked like a hobo. Shoving his fingers through his greasy hair, he said. “You got a nice place, by the way. Call me if you ever think of selling.”
One night in jail. Two if I broke his nose.
“Eli, don’t,” Ava begged. “I can’t deal with more drama tonight.”
I forced open my fist and let him pass. For Ava. We watched Steven reach the landing, then strut to my truck and stick a business card on my windshield.
“That cocky son of a bi–”
“Language,” Ava cut in, but it lacked conviction.
I picked up the eviction notice. “Tomorrow by noon?”
She released a frustrated groan, crouched to her purse, and started digging. I grabbed the bags at her feet and waited while she unlocked the door. No arguments when I followed her in. She disappeared into the bedroom with Nina.
Poor kid.
Papers covered the dining table, so I put the bags on the counter. Dirty dishes waited for her in the sink and on the stove. I hunted for the thermostat. It had to be ninety degrees inside.
“… a mom long before I met you.”
A mom without a partner.
Looking around, I could see it. She never got a break. I stationed myself at the sink and soaped a sponge. How many hours of sleep did she lose cleaning up at night? And now, she had to pack all her shit again? Where would she go?
Ava yawned as she came into the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
“Washing dishes.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” She reached past me to shut off the water. “I meant, what are you doing here?”
I wiped my soapy hands on my Carhartts. “I brought you dinner. It’s still in the truck. But now I’m gonna stay and help you pack.”
She pressed her fingers into her temples. “Eli, I’m tired. And I have a headache.”
“Then go lie down. I got this.”
“Eli …”
All my life, I hated my name. Mom wanted biblical, Dad didn’t.
So, in true marriage fashion, as Dad told it, they “compromised.” Now, those three little letters, my three letters, hit like a prayer when it came from her lips.
Hell, she could have it all. Middle name, too.
Say it any way she wanted. If Ryan thought that made me housebroken, so be it.
“If you’re not gonna lie down, then put some ice on it.” But her freezer had no ice. The best I could find was a bag of frozen corn.
Ava crossed her arms, stubborn eyes tracking me.
I closed the distance, icy kernels grinding against each other in my grip. “Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere.”
I pressed the bag to her forehead. “Here?”
Her mouth flattened into an annoyed line.
“I didn’t punch your ex. Give me this? Please?”
Her shoulders dropped. She took the bag from my fingers and held it to the back of her head. “That day when you stormed into the stable all pissed off? When you gave me the gate key, that was because of Steven?”
“Yeah.” The entitled prick took his yuppy Mercedes right up to the house. “Not sure how he knew you were there.”
“Location app,” she sighed. “Which I have since removed.” She blinked at my chest. “I wish you’d told me.”
“You had an interview. I didn’t want him messing with your headspace.”
“Well, thank you. I guess.”
The anger was gone. Now she just sounded tired. There couldn’t be more than six inches between us, but that half-foot tortured me. “Can you promise not to get mad if I say something?”
She pulled back. “The fact you have to ask makes me want to say no.”
“Ava, that guy’s been harassing you for weeks. Living here by yourself, you’re totally exposed.”
“Exposed?” She shifted the frozen vegetables to the other side. “Well, it’s a non-issue since I’ll be moving. Again.”
“You said this landlord was his friend? What if the next one is, too?”
Based on the way her face fell, she hadn’t thought about that.
She dropped the corn on the counter and scrubbed her face with her hands.
“I don’t know,” she groaned. “I was more worried about the fact that I don’t have pay stubs from Rock ’N Roll yet.
Eli, how am I going to get an apartment by tomorrow? ”
“Move into the house.”
“What?”
“Dad’s got the empty room downstairs. The one where you, you know …” flashes of her crumpling to the floor flooded my brain. “It even has an attached bathroom.”
“No.”
“Look, I know you’re mad at me, but it’s safer. Someone’s always around.”
“Steven wouldn’t actually hurt me. He doesn’t have the horseshoes for that.”
“Uh, eviction notice? How is that not hurting you?”
She sighed, but didn’t argue.
“I’ve got more reasons if you wanna hear ‘em?”
Then, with eyes closed, she folded into the counter, pressing her forehead to the fake tile.
“You’d have help,” I said. “Dishes, babysitting.”
Her mass of hair shook from side to side.
“You wouldn’t have to rush to drop Nina off. Or come home to rubbery grits. There’d be coffee ready when you woke up.”
She peeled herself off the counter and pressed her fingertips to my mouth, and I swear to God, my heart stopped.
Ten heartbeats passed like that. But on beat seven, her eyes fell to her fingers.
Beat eight, she ran her thumb across my lower lip.
Nine to ten, that drunk, devouring look surfaced, like before.
She pulled her hand away. “Thank you for the offer.”
This argument mattered. For her safety. For Nina’s. But all I could think was, do it again.
“I know you’re just trying to help …” she was saying.
I might die, but do it anyway.
“… so generous. I don’t want to be underfoot …”
Underfoot, underneath, underwear, undressed. It unraveled too fast to stop it. This woman, who’d been on my mind every night for the past two weeks.
“… need space.”
Space–the last thing I needed. In fact, I compressed the six inches between us into three.
“You already have a full house.” It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.
“Got any more lame excuses?”
“They aren’t lame!”
“They are. And you know it. How many deposits are you willing to lose just to make a point?”
“I-I have other excellent reasons.”
“Such as?”
Her eyes dropped to my mouth again.
Say it.
“The thing is,” she licked her lips, flicked her eyes back to me. “I want Nina to see her mom as strong and independent, so she’ll grow up strong and independent.”
“Those are two things I admire most about you.”
“A-and I don’t want her to think she needs a man to come in and rescue her, to fight her battles for her.”
“What if I want to fight for you?”
Ava opened her mouth, but nothing came out on her first try. “Fight my battles, you mean?”
Those three inches between us begged to be crossed. This strong, independent woman in front of me stripped the world away, quieted all those pesky distractions. Made me feel grounded. And I wanted to give her the same thing. “Have you eaten?”
“What?”
“I have spaghetti for you in the car.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat something,” I said. “Get some rest. I’ll be here at first light with boxing tape.”