Chapter 21
Grayson
She was so painfully beautiful. Even with her sunken cheeks and the purple under her eyes.
I hated the way these past months had changed her. She was too thin and her eyes too dull. She never braided her stunning copper hair and never wore dresses anymore. And never black. The colour seemed to repulse her.
I chuckled. She knew I had eyes on her. And not wearing black was a loud fuck you screamed right into my face.
I trailed behind her as she walked aimlessly through the busy city streets.
She had nowhere to be, but still she kept walking.
She’d walked through a park, stopping to greet the trees and talked to a squirrel that had no issue scampering onto her shoulder for a treat.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it knew Ava all its life.
But that was the effect my baby had on the world around her.
Her soul was so good, so pure, everyone and everything flocked to her, instinctively trusted her.
It was good to see her around the trees again.
I haven’t seen her talk to them in a while.
At first, I had thought she was a little crazy when she laughed at the trees like they were telling a joke.
But then they threatened to show her where I buried the gold we stole if I ever cut down one of their own again.
I still think she’s a little crazy, but how could she have known that I buried it?
Ava crossed a busy street, smiling like an angel as the cars stopped for her. How I wished I was the recipient of such a smile.
The memory of her, pinned against that desk, with a gun to her head, played out in the windows of the buildings that we passed.
Her eyes were closed, tears streaming from the corners, but her face was calm.
She’d made peace with dying. And in that moment, I wanted to gather her up in my arms, I wanted to tell her how I would never let that happen.
Not while I was still breathing. And if Ava’s gods were real, then even in death I would keep her safe, even if it meant dragging those gods by their hair to forcefully intervene.
And if Vlad had managed to take that shot, I would have pressed the same gun to my own head.
Right then and there. More than ever, I understood why my father had pulled that trigger.
The apple hadn’t landed as far from the tree as I had thought.
The sight of Vlad pressed against her back, holding her down, had flooded me with memories of Digger, holding her down in the dirt, and the promise I’d made to myself, never to see her in such a position again, never to let her go through that again.
And I had failed. My fucked-up life had put her in danger yet again. I had done everything I could to keep her away, keep her safe, but there she was. Being man-handled and violated by a piece of shit like Vlad.
But instead of ripping Vlad’s throat out with my bare hands like I desperately needed to do, I had to play the part.
I could already feel his skin breaking beneath my clawed hands as I wrapped my fingers around his esophagus and pulled at it, keeping his head down with my other hand over his ugly face.
But I couldn’t just give in to my murderous impulses. There were too many things on the line, too many scales that had to be balanced and I would have jeopardised the entire house of cards if I’d killed all those fuckers in that room. I was playing the long game. And it was fucking agony.
So instead, I laughed. And silently plotted every man’s death in that room, down to the last severed pinkie finger.
And for one split second, my little witch smiled when she heard my voice. How the fuck she could even muster a smile with a gun to her head, I had no idea, but it made my knees buckle. After everything, she had smiled. For me.
And when she finally opened her eyes, I got sucked in by them, like always.
They burned a hole through me, all the way down to my heart.
And I knew I should’ve looked away, kept the mask on, but I let myself fall into my princess, for just a few seconds.
I allowed myself a moment of respite in the utter relief on her face when she looked at me.
I allowed those eyes to rip my insides to shreds.
But only for a few seconds—just long enough before someone noticed how my own life was dependant on her next breath.
But Volkov was no fool. No matter what vile things I had said or done—things that had caused a physical pain in my gut—he saw right through me.
He had refused my offer and the moment I had left his office, he called Rurik, telling him all about Candice.
Luckily, Ava’s alias was slowing them down, but it was only a matter of time before they found her.
So I was here. Being my baby’s guardian devil, while her FBI dogs weren’t around to protect her. And I wouldn’t want to be any place else in the world.
Ava spotted a street market and my stomach flipped like I was a goddamned teenage boy. The market was overly crowded, which meant I could get closer to her, maybe even touch her, if I was careful enough.
Heads turned as she walked into the crowd, and I wanted to pull out everyone’s eyes that lingered a little too long.
I had never known what it meant to be jealous, but it had reared its ugly head, for the first time that night in the storage warehouse, watching her pressed between those two unworthy guards.
The feeling had taken me by complete surprise, and I was inclined to cut out both their hearts that night, but then her eyes had flitted to me, looking for my reaction, and my heart had swelled three times its normal size.
She’d wanted me jealous, and I, together with those guards, were all but wrapped around her finger. She was phenomenal.
A man with a rich-boy haircut stopped dead in his tracks as Ava passed him. He turned towards her, and I was just in time to grab him by the scruff of his neck, before his hand landed on her shoulder. The guy was a fucking imbecile if he thought he’d get to touch my princess.
I yanked him backwards and he grunted in surprise. “She’s off limits. Got that?” I sneered in his ear, quiet enough not to make any more of a scene than I already did. People around us were staring, widening their path, leaving us in a small opening, completely visible. Fuck.
The man squirmed angrily in my grip. “Why? You her boyfriend or something?”
The fucking audacity.
I let him go, so he could face me, and the moment he did, his face changed. He took a step back, straightening his clothes.
“Whatever, man.” He gave me one last anxious glance, then disappeared into the crowd behind me.
Fucker.
I might track him down later.
I scanned the crowds for Ava again, feeling another headache start to throb in my temples.
She stood out like a stunning sore thumb with her auburn hair.
She was browsing through a stall with an assortment of scarves, shawls and swimsuit cover-ups.
I was eager to get closer to see which ones she liked, so I could get them for her.
I sighed to myself, weaving through the crowds. It wasn’t like I’d ever be able to give it to her. She hated me, and it was for the best. I was no good for her. She deserved better than a piece of shit like me, who’d done nothing but ruin her life.
But who was going to love her the way she deserved to be loved?
Who was going to give her the excitement and danger she so craved?
Who would be able to remember every single word, every single emotion crossing her face, to be perfectly in tuned with her needs and desires?
Who would be able to worship her body like I did, like the fucking goddess she was?
No one was worthy of her.
I walked past the spectre of Becket on his knees, cuffed and crying in the crowd.
I grinded my teeth together. He loves her, there was no doubt about it. How could he not, after spending so much time with her? And as much as it gagged me to admit, maybe he would have been good enough for Ava if he wasn’t so fucking pathetic at protecting her.
I reached the scarf stall and slid behind the wall of material, moving them just enough so I could see her. I watched her run her fingers over a deep emerald silk scarf. It would look stunning on her. She continued browsing, stepping closer and closer, making my heart thump harder and harder.
Ava pulled her sleeve up, studying her arm. Goosebumps. Was it because of me? She looked around, scanning the crowds almost frantically. Did she sense me? She shook her head dismissively, rubbing at her arms in irritation.
The recklessness I was always battling roared in me as Ava stood right in front of me, her back to me, smoothing her fingers over another silk scarf.
I wanted to sweep her up in my arms and never let go.
I wanted to fall to my knees and beg her for forgiveness, beg her to return to me and let me love her again.
I stepped out behind the wall of shawls, my heart beating against my ribs, like it could make me move closer to her.
Jeez! I balled my fists, trying to control my stupid urges.
Breathe, fucker.
I leaned forward, breathing in the scent of her hair, like a fucking pervert. My throat constricted as the smell of pine trees and berries washed through me, waking a plethora of memories and emotions that clawed at my psyche, ready to overrun my mind in the cruellest and most saccharine way.
I grinded my teeth together, battling my mind into submission. It was a dangerous time to lose myself. She was so close. She could turn at any moment.
But I didn’t move like I was supposed to. I was drunk on her presence, her smell. I didn’t care one fucking bit if she turned and saw me. I wanted her to see me. I wanted her to wrap her arms around me and let me bury my face in the crook of her neck—my favourite place in this godforsaken world.
My hand moved of its own accord as I battled with the longing, reaching out to her.
One touch. Just one.