Chapter Twenty
Avery
Six Months Later
Bending over to grab another cardboard box off the kitchen floor had me groaning.
My arms were sore, and my lower back wasn’t in much better condition.
I silently cursed my mother for insisting on giving us all our housewarming gifts before we’d even moved into the place.
I told James she had done it on purpose to make our move more unbearable, but he just said that my mother was a very nice lady to have bought us all that junk.
Gift of a horse’s mouth, or whatever-the-fuck he’d said.
Of course, James was right. As usual. Mom and Dad had really gone out of their way to make sure James and I would be taken care of in our new place. I still don’t know who she thought we were going to be feeding with table settings for eight, but whatever.
“Being in school now, you’ll want to invite your friends over to cook for them,” she said.
I kept telling her that I was actually studying to be a pastry chef, and that James was really the better one in the kitchen, but she usually just waved her hand and dismissed me.
I smiled as I pulled out my brand-new tumbler.
Mom had given it to me yesterday when she stopped by to pick her Jeep up from the shop after an oil change.
She had announced, louder than necessary to a lobby full of waiting customers, that she had finally had enough of my petty theft.
As my ears were turning red, she pulled out a box from her tote bag and handed it to me.
It was a silver-and-black cup with matching lid and plastic straw that had been customized with my name on it.
The past six months had been very strange, but wonderful.
The shop was so busy working through the new contracts they’d picked up that they had to hire three more mechanics and expand the business hours.
James was pulling 10- and 11-hour shifts most days, but he was making enough that I was able to cut back my hours at June’s to help focus on school.
I got worried about him working too much and burning himself out, but it seemed like he really enjoyed it.
Then again, the man never complained about anything, so I’d never know.
His calm, take it as it comes attitude had helped me become more patient and have less anxiety about things that were out of my control.
“As long as we’re together…”
I pulled the thin wrapping off the tumbler and set it down into the sink where I could give it a good wash before I used it.
My phone dinged, and I retrieved it from the island behind me.
SUSIE LINDSTROM: Are we still riding together tomorrow?
ME: Yeah, we’ll pick you up at 12:30 and then head to the restaurant.
SUSIE LINDSTROM: I still don’t know why Jenna didn’t just have the shower here at my house. There’s plenty of space. Lots of people are coming to celebrate Baby Boy. I would have been happy to host.
I sighed. “Still on this?” I said to no one.
ME: She didn’t want to burden you, it’s easier this way.
My relationship with my future mother-in-law was complicated.
She was still having a hard time reconciling within herself what she’d put James through, especially after knowing it was Jack that had done it all along.
I think the part that rubbed me the worst about it was that she hadn’t started treating Jack any differently.
She was willing to dole all that shit out to James, but Jack got through unscathed.
It wasn’t that I wanted anything bad for Jack, who was a solidly good guy; I just wanted fair treatment for my boyfriend.
I guess the truth was that there would always be some aspects of family drama, no matter how we thought we’d healed.
I was just happy everyone was speaking to each other.
My Mom and Dad were enjoying his early retirement, and I was happy for them.
I was devastated when the department made the decision to force him into retirement, but it could have been worse.
They didn’t like how he handled the whole thing with David, but the nail in his coffin was promoting David over another officer with more seniority.
It showed flagrant favoritism, and Internal Affairs nailed him for it.
But, like James always said, everything happens for a reason.
I was starting to believe it, too.
David was facing a combined total of seven years in lockup for what he’d tried to do to me and James.
Falsifying police records, framing us for the drugs, plus a little extra character damage from my testimony about his ongoing abuse and intimidation.
I’d never felt more relieved than when I faced the DA and gave my account of who David was as a person.
With every bad memory, I was helping put him behind bars and move forward with my new life.
I placed the last serving plate in the far-left corner cupboard and grabbed the knife off the stove to break down the box.
As the blade cut through the last bit of tape, I heard a small thump.
I froze, half-turning in place to look through the kitchen and living room to the staircase that led to the apartment.
The front door was on the first floor of the loft we’d rented.
It was a somewhat bizarre layout, but we’d fallen in love with it.
The only thing downstairs was the front door, the stairs to the main area of the loft, and the washer and dryer tucked behind the staircase.
I piled the folded box atop the stack and tossed the blade down on the counter.
I peeked at my watch. 2:46 PM. James wouldn’t be home from the garage ‘till well past 6. I walked through the living room to the top of the stairs and froze solid as my pulse rate immediately increased. I knew I’d locked the door when I came back from Starbucks about an hour ago, and, now, I could see the door standing ajar, letting the afternoon sun spill in.
“Hello? Mom?” I called.
Getting no response, I swallowed hard and took hold of the banister. I got about halfway down the steps and paused again. “Hello?”
Silence.
I could feel my body temperature rising as my grip on the smooth wood began to slip. I hurried my way down the remaining steps and peeked out the door before nearly slamming it shut and securing the bolt.
I turned back to head up to the kitchen and let out a muffled shout as a hand materialized out of nowhere and covered my mouth. My entire body flinched, and I began to flail around as my feet left the floor…
“Shh. I’ve got you now,” he hissed from behind the black material covering his entire face.
I tried not to thrash around too much as he carried me up the stairs. I didn't want him to lose his footing halfway up the flight and kill us both with that kind of fall.
He tossed me onto the couch and I landed on my stomach.
I reached out and clawed for the arm to pull away from him, but he came down quickly, pinning me down with his weight.
I squirmed beneath him as he struggled to pull a handkerchief out of his back pocket.
In a quick motion he removed his hand and stuffed the thin fabric into my mouth before securing it with a strip of thick packing tape from a roll on the end table.
I struggled against him and tried to shift my hips this way and that as he grabbed my left arm and pulled it behind my back. The cool metal of the handcuffs was a stark contrast to the heat of his hands as he locked them around my wrists.
With my hands cuffed, and my mouth gagged, he lowered himself back down and whispered right behind my ear. “Don’t move.”
I went absolutely still as he showed me the knife in his hand. I could feel my breath coming fast and faster through my nose as he lifted the hem of my shirt off my skin and began to cut through the thin material.
I shivered as the cool air from the overhead vent blew down against the bare skin of my back when the shirt was cut, the fraying material splitting as the last few threads at the back of my neck were severed.
He placed his palm flat at the base of my neck and ran his hand down the length of my spine.
“Sweaty boy…” I heard him say behind me. I tensed up as he shoved his fingers into my armpit to collect more of my sheen before slipping his hand under the elastic waist of my shorts and stuffing his index finger into my hole.
I moaned around the handkerchief from the burn of the sudden intrusion as I kicked my legs. My dick was painfully hard and smashed up against the couch cushion. I bucked my hips for relief; he pushed me back down and shoved another finger inside. That one hurt. I threw my head back and moaned.
He pulled his fingers out and laughed as he shoved his hand down my front to feel the sticky mess I was already making in my briefs.
“Oh, just wait baby. You have no idea what I have in store for you.” He leaned in close and bit down the line of my jaw, his teeth blunt against my sensitive skin.
He wrapped his arms around my torso and lifted me off the couch as he got up.
He propped me up on my knees and used one arm to hold me in place as the other tugged at my shorts and underwear.
Once he had them off, my cock hard as marble jetting out straight in front of me, he helped me to stand and then pushed me towards the bedroom.
I got to the middle of the room at the foot of the bed and lowered myself to my knees in front of him.
He chuckled wickedly, put his hand to the back of my head, and smashed my face into the crotch of his jeans.
I could feel the thick outline of his hard on through the denim.
My spit finally began to soak through the dry hanky as I salivated around it.
“I know you wanna suck my fat cock,” he said, “it’s your favorite thing to do.” Continuing to grind himself against my face, he spoke again. “But today’s not about what you want. That’s why I taped your filthy mouth.”
He grabbed a fistful of my hair and craned my neck back to stare up into his eyes. “Now, I want you to get over there and sit on the floor with your legs spread out so I can see your hole in the mirror.”