48 | Maria
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I fucked everything up.
The last couple of hours keep replaying in my mind like an ugly, broken record. It happened so quickly, my camera, Riley's anger, Ava looking at me like I'm someone she doesn't recognise. Even before, when she had some picture of me as a cold-hearted psycho she didn't look at me like that.
More than hurt. More than upset.
And I deserved it.
I didn't even hear Riley, not really. My camera has become my entire life, my job, my stability.
It shattered and it was like my brain did too.
For a moment I didn't care what she saw on it, what the implications of that were - I just saw the life that I'd built for myself crumbling beneath me.
But I don't care about my stupid fucking camera if it means I don't have Ava. I've already let her take over my life completely, become the centre of my world, this shouldn't matter. And I should've realised that yesterday, should've told her.
Instead I blurted out that I love her when she already couldn't look at me.
Her words echo in my head. Does this mean nothing to you?
As if she's not the only person I think about, the most important person in my life.
But she doesn't trust me, all because I forgot I fucking recording.
I didn't know the video was saved when the camera died.
I was in a rush, I forgot what was on it.
I didn't think Riley would just turn it on, either.
It's the worst unfolding of events that could possibly happen. My sister hates me, my girlfriend hates me, my main camera that my jobs depend on is essentially useless. This is probably the biggest screw of up of my entire fucking life.
I've tried to think about Riley but that's not important. I can deal with that later, beg for forgiveness or whatever it is she wants, right now I need Ava to know that I'm sorry, really fucking sorry. For the video, for how I acted, for everything.
I couldn't sleep. I've been wanting to call her every hour that creeps closer to daylight. I don't want to pressure her. I doubt she'll answer, anyway. What if I turn up to her house and it scares her away even more? Fuck. I don't know how long to leave this, how to solve it.
I want to apologise more than anything. I can't live with this image of her anymore, distant expression, teary eyes and quivering lips. She needed me and I betrayed her.
When I glance down at my phone the numbers stare back, 4am.It's been hours but the feelings are still fresh, swirling around in my gut as a constant reminder of my guilt.
All of a sudden the screen springs to life, caller ID splashed across it in familiar letters.
Pretty Girl.
I freeze, blinking. Is this some weird dream? Have I gone so insane I'm hallucinating now?
My confusion is temporary, fingers hitting the answerbutton before any part of me can catch up. I don't question why she's calling at this time, why she wants to talk at all. Maybe it's ruining her in the same way.
"Hello?" I ask, sitting up in the partial darkness of my room. Moonlight splices through the window, across the bedsheets as I wait for a reply.
For a moment, there's nothing. A shuffle, a muffled voice. Then her.
"Hi, Nolan..."
I smile without thinking, so happy to hear my name on her lips.
"It's me...Birdie..."
All my relief is instantly squashed. Birdie?
Why the hell would she refer to herself likethat?
Like a reflex, something in my head switches, gathers the facts. She's calling me at a weird time, she just called herself by a name she hates...does she even sound like herself right now? I freeze, some part of me immediately thinking she could be in danger.
"Birdie?" I repeat, cautiously.
"Yeah..." She audibly swallows, nervously, "You know... that's what you call me."
Something isn't right.
"Ava, are you okay?"
"Of course," Her voice almost cracks, like she's putting on some type of show, "Why wouldn't I be?"
My grip on the phone tightens, guilt twisted into molten concern burning at the edges of my vision. I can tell she's not okay, fuck, what the hell is going on?
"Where are you?" I question again, her breath heavy, unregulated.
"Um, somewhere... somewhere where you should meet me."
"What?" My worry cracks through, urgency in my tone, "Ava, where?"
"Just... you should come and see me, uh..." Her voice trails off, it sounds almost broken. I hear what sounds like a sob, a breaking of composure. When she tries to speak again it doesn't come out, words broken and desperate, "I..I- Nolan..."
Then there's a voice in the background, like she's being directed. My eyes widen in the darkness, chest tight as my breathing slows. Who the fuck is that? I hate that it's my first thought, but this has Diego written all over it.
There's no way... no way he's anywhere near her.
"Tell me what's going on," I urge, "Do you need help? Who's with you?'
Before she even attempts to speak the line goes muffled again, the sound of footsteps, more uttered words, these ones sound angrier. It's only a few seconds of silence but the longer it goes on, the more I'm spiralling. The thought of Ava in danger makes my blood run hot.
The new voice that takes over the phone confirms my worst fear, making every inch of my skin crawl. It's not Diego, it's worse. Xavier.
He got out today.
"Hey, buddy," His twisted voice filters through. The tone, spilling with manipulative confidence, so taunting, is just how I remember it. He hasn't changed.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I spit out before anything rational comes to mind.
"I missed you too," He hums back, like everything is normal.
Nothing is normal. The facts are sinking in with the most stomach-churning dread I've ever felt. He's kidnapped Ava. He could hurt her, probably has. I know what he's capable of, what sort of sick person he is.
I'm going to fucking kill him.
"Where are you?" I spit, jumping out of bed, scrambling for clothes, shoes, anything to get me out of here and closer to her, "Where the fuck have you taken Ava?"
"Wow, Diego was right when he said this was your little weakness. Who would've thought you'd be in love, huh?" His words wash over me like a disease, "You used to be so irresponsible, so reckless... so pathetic. I guess that's changed."
I can't answer, can't think.
All I can do is imagine Ava, how alone she must feel, how scared. This is my fault, all of it, and this time I'm going to actually take responsibility. I'm going to save her, I'm going to fix it, fix everything. Even if it kills me.
"Where are you?" I repeat, ignoring his taunts. My heart rattles in my chest so hard I can almost feel it in my head, like this ugly ticking time bomb of doom.
"I'll tell you if you ask nicely."
"You sick fuck," I bite down on my tongue so hard I taste blood, grabbing my car keys and jacket, halfway to the door already.
"Insulting me isn't going to work," His voice drops a fraction lower. I remember that too. When the twisted smiles wear off and all that's left is his ability to snake into your head. "Never worked well for you before, did it, Nole?"
I can't focus and he's making it worse, purposely.
I remember the past, the punches, the black eyes.
They weren't always equal. It was easier to pretend they were all fights and not me getting the shit beaten out of me because I'd upset this stupid man who'd groomed me into his pathetic circle.
The drugs made it easier, the drinking made it easier. It made it easier to forget.
I don't think about the cycle, numbing the pain he caused with the substances he gave me. Hearing his voice has split all those cracks wide open, so wide I'm admitting things to myself that make me feel sick. I try not to see red as I rush down the stairs, heading to my car with clenched fists.
"Tell me where you are or I'll call the fucking police, I swear I'm going to-"
He cuts me off, "No you won't."
Of course I won't. I can't.
It's too dangerous, for all I know he could have a gun pressed up against Ava's head right now. He's twisted enough that shooting her, just to ruin my entire life, even if it put him back in jail, would be revenge. The scene plays in my eyes like a nightmare.
"Blondie's fine... for now," He mutters.
Blondie?
Oh my God, maybe I really am going to kill him.
"Xavier..." I say with low, steady breath. I haven't said it, not in six years, but I refuse to be scared of him anymore. I'm facing my past head on in all its explosive, messy glory.
"We're somewhere you haven't been in a long time," He murmurs, back to that scheming tone, "You remember Diego's house, right?"
I do. Vaguely. I remember the walls, the sounds, that couch I used to sit on.
But I do know where it is, that's what matters here.
"If you fucking hurt her I will murder you," I growl, voice so steady the threat actually sounds convincing. I get into my car, hairs standing up on my neck.
"As long as you get here, she'll be in good hands."
"Fuck you."
There's a low laugh, another exchange of muffled voices. Then the line cuts abruptly, my own silence taunting me.
I start my engine faster than I've ever done anything, hands clenching so hard against the steering wheel my knuckles whiten. Driving feels like pure adrenaline, all these bad things powering me forward. The night at the funfair feels far away, nothing, minuscule.
What matters is getting Ava safely back out of their hands. Even if she still hates me, if she never forgives me for any of this, I still need to make sure these bastards don't hurt her. That she's okay, free from danger.
Seeing roads I haven't seen in a long time makes me feel like I'm in a dream. Every fragmented bits and pieces I dismantled years ago are all coming back together, building up images of a neighbourhood I used to spend all my time in.
But my anger is stronger, enough to keep me driving until I see that house.
When I park I scramble for my phone, typing out a quick message to Mina.
Me: If you don't hear from me in an hour, tell Riley I'm sorry.
The front yard is dirty, overgrown grass and stranded pieces of litter, yellowish lights bleeding through the blinds.
It looks like nothing special, unkempt but normal enough from an outside view.
I rush out without lingering on it too long.
It's all these things I've been avoiding front and centre in my head.
I stood out here so many times. Smoked, talked, maybe even laughed.
The metal gate I push through reminds me of the metallic feeling of blood on my lips, the blood I had on my skin every time I left this place.
My breathing gets faster, heart rising too quickly.
I hear a voice inside, Diego's, I get a glimpse of his voice back then too.
Ava, I chant in my head as I come to the door, focus on her.
I don't have time for my own useless trauma.
My fist hits the door with so much force it hurts my knuckles. I'm not ready to see Xavier, not really, but the time to be ready is over. I don't have a choice. This is more important than anything.
When the door swings open I don't wait. I push through whoever opened it, desperate eyes graze the entrance, searching for any sign of her. I don't get far before I feel an arm raised up behind me, a low laugh. He's got a gun.
"Diego," I spit, spinning carefully. By the time I'm looking at him I can see the weapon clenched in his hands, the casual smile on his face. "Where is she?"
I think he might speak, make another confronting remark, but instead he gestures to the room at the end of the hallway with his head. He's letting me go, see it for myself. That silence might be scarier than if he just forced me over there.
With his lingering presence still caught behind me I move forward, trying to be quick. Even though I think it's just a scare tactic, one wrong move and his finger could still press down on that trigger. I'm more valuable to them alive than dead, but that only goes so far.
When I get to the room my heart stiffens in my chest, my eyes glue to Ava's so hard I ignore everything else.
She's tied to a chair, wrists and ankles bound, hair messy and faint red rectangle around her lips like she'd had tape over it.
She looks exhausted, dried tear streaks down her cheeks.
It's inhumane, makes my anger flare harder.
"Ava!" I call on instinct, but I don't move, another voice combating me.
"Don't," Diego instructs from behind, gun still towards me.
"Nolan..." Ava's faint voice crawls towards me. Her eyes are wide, pleading. She sits up slightly, using whatever weak energy she has left to tug on her tied wrists. It does nothing.
"I'm going to get you out of here, I promise," I can't tell if she believes me, her eyes faltering from mine and towards something else, someone else. I hadn't seen them before. Kneeled on the ground, also with a gun aimed at him - her dad?
What the fuck?
"What's going on?" I demand, turning my attention to Xavier. I knew he was here but facing him is harder, acknowledging his presence hurts, "What do you want?
He watches me with fascination, a slow line of sight that goes from me, to Ava, to her dad, then back to me like he's putting the pieces of his corrupt plan together.
His eyes swirl with that incompressible darkness, that scar so noticeable even in the hazy lighting.
It's the face I've spent years trying to run away from.
"You look the same, you know?"
I blink.
"I thought you'd be different."
"Stop," I shake my head, "Answer my questions, Xavier. I don't have time for your mind games."
He huffs, almost a laugh, "You're pretty confident for someone with a gun aimed at them right now. Maybe you are different."
"I am different," I hiss back, "You can't get in my head anymore, I'm not fucking scared of you. Leave Ava out of this, she has nothing to do with this...and her dad..."
He sucks in a breath, "Her dad owes me a lot of money, he put himself here... and Ava, well she's just some collateral that looks pretty tied up."
"I'm going to fucking kill you," I breathe without thinking, jolting forwards. I only stop when his gun twists to me, catching me between the two. Ava's dad is barely even conscious, muttering prayers with a bruised, bloodied face. He couldn't escape even if he wanted to.
"That's what you do isn't it? Kill people?"
Xavier lowers the gun slowly, aiming it lazily back at the man on the floor. At the same time Diego nudges me further in the room, so he can walk around and face me as he still holds me at gunpoint. My vision stirs with heat, I'm trapped.
"What?" I murmur.
"You get angry, you cause problems for everyone," Xavier continues, tilting his head, "You're irresponsible, and a real fucking pain in the ass. None of this would have happened if you weren't such a little shit."
The cavern in my brain shifts open even wider. It's a mirror to the past, like he's speaking to me as a teenager all over again. That dark raincloud of haze is taking over my conscious.
I did get angry, but he built that anger. I know it was my fault, I know I acted out and ruined things for everyone. But I was stuck in that cycle because of him. I focus my attention on him because if I don't, I might start blaming myself completely.
"No, this is your fault," My heart beats against my chest, "You manipulate everyone into taking the fall for your shit. You're never responsible, not for the past, for kidnapping Ava."
His gaze sharpens, his tatted arm clenches as he squeezes the gun tighter.
"Then tell your precious Ava what you did, hm?" Diego butts in suddenly, "Think she'll still look at you the same after that?"
Her face, still fear-stricken, eyes me with confusion. Her eyebrows crease, limbs weak against their constraints. I still can't believe she's here.
"Go on," Diego urges her, "Ask him what happened, why he ran away from us like a fucking pussy."
Maria. Jake. That day.
The secret I've been keeping so long it feels as natural as breathing oxygen.
The blood, the gunshots, everything echoes as loud as it's ever been.
The memory rattles around and I know I'm going to have to explain it, finally.
I feel sick, my mental block is gone, a tidal wave of truth hitting me at full force.
"Nolan..." She murmurs with a croaky, tired voice, "What happened...?"
I have to tell the truth, the real truth. Because it was never my fault, as much as Xavier and Diego want to twist it into that. I was trying to help.
"Maria," I push the name out like it's physically hurting me, "She was called Maria."
The room stills and I can't decide if I preferred it when it was spinning.
"She used to buy shit from them, she was one of their regulars..."
"Our regulars," Xavier corrects, "Don't act like you weren't part of it."
"I was a teenager, I had to do what you fucking said," My anger is evident, emotions not bothering to numb before finding their way out in my words.
"You made plenty of your own shitty decisions," Diego retorts.
It's mocking, a way into my head.
"One day, she came to us. She ran into me, shaking... she was having these insane withdrawals. And... she had her son with her."
The memory springs up in my mind. Her distant eyes, staggered blinks, words that barely strung together full sentences.
The kid clutching so tightly onto her hand, confused expression refusing to even meet mine.
I'd been drinking but it sobered me up somehow, some part of me knew this was not right.
"I don't even know if she realised what she was bringing him to, where she even was."
"She was a crazy fucking bitch," Diego mutters offhandedly.
I try to keep going, try to ignore everything making me want to bite my tongue, or lunge towards any two of the men in this room. I can tell Ava is watching me but I can't face her.
"I tried to stop her...she clearly didn't need any more drugs but she was determined..." I attempt to steady my voice, "When I tried to take the kid from her hands she got past me, ran into the house. I was left with this poor fucking kid...I didn't know what to do..."
My stomach tightens like I'm in the situation all over again. Like I have this tiny hand in mine, a child staring at me like I was supposed to know what to do. And I had no fucking clue.
"I told him to stop, not to give her anything but he tried anyway. Of course there was some twisted deal he conjured up-"
"You stopped me, got in my fucking way," Xavier's face crinkles into one of insult, I see his fingers grasp tighter against the metal in his hand dangerously, "The woman was batshit insane. She needed something, and that came with a price. Your little heroic savours wouldn't have done shit."
"You tried to make her sleep with you! And you know she would've said yes, in that headspace she was in. She would've done anything for her fix."
"She was in debt to me," He growls, "She was going to fucking pay them, in any way possible. If you had respected that system, she would've been perfectly fine. She wouldn't have died."
"I tried to stop him, I- I got in between them, but he pulled a gun on me, told me to get out the fucking way.
I don't know why... I just snapped. All the times he'd put his own fists on me, they just channelled into this moment...
I couldn't stop. Even when Mina walked in... I barely even noticed her."
My knuckles twitch with the memories of the punches.
"And then...Xavier shot her. Right in the heart."
I can see it, hear it. The gunshot echoing through the silence, the yelp cut off as blood dribbled down her chin.
Her eyes going empty, colour draining from her face.
I think I went over, I tried to help, tried to do anything.
Blood smeared on my hands, her blood, the evidence of what he did.
My stomach churned, tears burned through my eyes. Time came to a swirling stop.
Mina tried to be rational, tried to argue with Xavier but she was just as stunned. There was nothing we could do.
"It was a lesson," Xavier mutters, voice echoey like my voice can't quite grasp we're in the present, "If you fuck with shit that doesn't concern you, bad things happen. You got involved, an innocent woman died. You killed her with your bullshit."
"You shot her because your ego was bruised," I spit back, emotions flaring, "You shot her because I lashed out at you. That's all it took you fucking psychopath!?"
I've imagined these words in my head for so long, so many stagnant years, the fact I'm actually saying them out loud feels like a twisted fever dream. And I mean them, so viscerally, from the bottom of my soul. I hate him, I hate them, for what they did.
"The kid..."
All three of us glance over to Ava. She's watching, eyelids still heavy. She swallows so slowly it looks like it hurts, her brain digesting all these words. These secrets.
"What... what happened to the kid?"
Diego audibly huffs, like it's a stupid question, or maybe it's funny to him, I don't know. I wouldn't put it past him.
"Nole got him killed too, didn't you?" Xavier drawls in a low voice.
I shake my head, fists clenched so hard I might be drawing blood with my nails, "No... I tried to save that kid..."
"Saving him by letting him watch his mother die?"
He saw it. I told him to stay outside, I didn't know if he would listen. It happened so quickly, it was a split second decision. I just wanted to save his mom. Tears sting in my eyes, guilt clawing up my throat until I can barely breathe.
"You were the one who killed him," I say, head crowding with thoughts.
Xavier shrugs, "I put him out of his misery, kid was going to be scarred."
"You killed him to get rid of witnesses...you never cared, not even about a helpless four year old!" I croak, trying to gain any sense of sanity.
"There wouldn't have been any witnesses if you hadn't interfered," Diego adds, raising his gun higher, a direct threat.
"Actions always have consequences," He nods towards Diego like a secret code, "And you're reallydue for one for that prison stunt, hm?"
I shake my head, everything unravelling as he speaks. The prison stunt was Xavier committing a robbery and me and Mina giving the police an anonymous tip. We knew and we set him up because any time in prison felt like a reward. It was never enough.
"I know a fitting punishment," Slowly, Xavier gestures to Ava's dad, "You kill him, or we'll take care of Blondie. You decide."
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