Make You Mine

15. Ava

15

AVA

“ A va, what are you?—”

“Please let me speak, Detective.”

“Sorry.” Elijah turns to face me. No longer hugging me, his warm hand encases one of mine, and our fingers intertwine while his lips gift me a comforting smile. “But please know you can tell me anything without concern or fear of judgment. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” Reciprocating his grin, I reach for the bottle beside me. It’s still cold, and I bring the ginger soda to my lips and take a few quick sips. Thinking. Mentally going back to another day and time that marked my life, a memory I once buried in the past due to my embarrassment. Stupidity. The fear of no one believing me. “Of course, back then, I wasn’t allowed to see it as anything more than bullying or him being an ass, but Lyle Janson Porter tried to forcibly steal a kiss from me on my birthday.”

Beside me, Elijah tenses; the muscles of his arm coil tight, yet his hold on my hand is tender. His stance is a bit protective, as if preparing himself for what’s to come. This is also when he takes out his cell phone with his free hand, and Eli opens the recording app. He shows it to me. “Can I? This will remain private and used solely by me to help the investigation unless you give me your consent to share it with Captain Perez.”

“Yes.” He nods for me to continue after pressing the record button, and I sigh. Count to ten and then begin. “My best friend, Rose, and I were in my backyard that night. The birthday party was over, and it was just the two of us hanging out, gossiping like girls at that age do. You know?” I’m not looking for an answer; I just need a second to swallow and clear my throat. To blink back my tears. “I remember her giggles, the way she gushed about spending the night and possibly getting to see her crush from my bedroom window.”

“Your neighbor being Salcedo?”

“Yes. Anthony.”

“Go on, sweetheart.” His tone is gentle, and I appreciate it. There’s no judgment in his gaze, either. “All this will be very helpful.”

“Okay.” I lean forward and kiss his cheek. It’s quick and a rash move, but I don’t dwell on it. Instead, I sit back and close my eyes, letting the words flow before I chicken out. “Don’t quote me on the exact time, but I’m guessing it was close to midnight when their ‘crew’ strolled through my backyard, reeking of weed and cheap beer. The boys were loud and obnoxious, and since we were supposed to be upstairs in my room, no one came looking for us. It was the norm, anyway. Everyone in our neighborhood knew they hung out on their side of the fence doing the same thing every Saturday night.”

“So, no parental figures?”

I shake my head. “All asleep upstairs.”

“How many of them came onto the property?”

“Three, but one had no interest and stayed by the entrance.”

“Was this a fenced-in yard?”

“Yes.” I tighten my hold on the bottle, and the plastic cracks under my grip—almost spilling some of my soda. “Our neighborhood was a relatively safe one, and it wasn’t a high priority for my dad to lock the fence. Hell, most nights it stayed wide open, as did the families’ across the street and even Anthony’s.” We were stupid. Too trusting. I’ve learned the hard way that security in itself is a fickle thing and can be taken at the snap of a finger. “And that night, they did just that, strolled on in and took a seat on either side of us. How did they know we were there? At the time, I had no clue. We weren’t being loud, but you can imagine who I got stuck with.”

“Jason Ripley.”

“That’s not his real name, Detective. Lyle Janson Porter is who I went to school with.”

“Are you sure, Ava?” He’s not being rude. Elijah’s looking for a verbal verification because this changes things for him. For the investigation. “We have his legal paperwork and?—”

“I might not have hung out with them like my best friend, Rose, but I’ll never forget the names in that group. Especially the trio.” It’s why when the Texas DA asked about our ties as teenagers, nothing clicked. Even before and after the incident, I kept my distance from them. “What I said in my deposition about Anthony was true then; the guy was a nice athlete who everyone liked, and he loved manga—Rose was completely smitten by him—but that’s all I knew. We said hello as neighbors, and his parents talked to mine, but it didn’t go past that.”

My best friend was possessive and jealous and I didn’t want to lose her.

“And the others? You said they were a trio?” A group of men passes to the left of us, fishing poles in their hands, and Elijah tracks their movements. The expression on his face isn’t friendly.

“Yes. Anthony, Lyle, and…Denis.”

At the last name, his intense gaze swings to me. Jaw ticking. “Denis what?”

“I don’t remember his last name,” I admitted, regretting the fact I couldn’t get my hands on the yearbook the district attorney needed. Maybe if I’d seen Jason’s and Lyle’s pictures side by side, I would’ve put two and two together sooner. “He was always in the background, getting high and following the other two. Anthony was the popular athlete, Lyle was a little more emo with touches of goth and dark hair, while Denis was quiet. He was always so quiet.”

“You said Lyle had dark hair, but Jason’s a natural redhead.”

“He dyed it jet black back then.” So dark and flat.

“How sure are you of this?”

“You can tell. Either in the regrowth between dye jobs or the staining around his hairline after.”

“Is that why you didn’t recognize him?”

“Among other things, and I’ll explain after…”

“After what?”

“I tell you what happened after the three walked into my backyard.”

“Before you continue, I have to ask. Did you tell them to leave?”

“No, and I’ve regretted that decision.” For a few seconds, I look away. So much is going through my mind: my stupidity, the betrayal…shame. No more hiding. Meeting his gaze once again, I let him see all of me. Please don’t be disappointed. “At first, it was weird but a tiny bit cool. You know? At that age, the thought of someone older—a senior paying attention to a sophomore—made you feel like you were the shit. I’m not going to say they were hot; Salcedo was the better-looking of the three, but they were cute enough and mature in our eyes. So I made a mistake and let my guard down, ignoring the signals that were blaring, letting an eighteen-year-old Lyle strike up a conversation with me. He asked questions and wished me a happy birthday, and in my young mind, I felt popular. Important.”

“When did it get out of hand?” Eli asks, thumb rubbing across my knuckles. His grip on that hand hasn’t eased. “Where was your friend?”

“About thirty minutes into the impromptu visit, they pulled out a joint and lit up. They tried to puff puff pass , but I said no while Rose went for it. You can imagine it didn’t turn out so great for her when she coughed up a lung on her first hit, but hey, Anthony was rubbing her back, so she was on cloud nine.”

“Then what? No one smelled the weed?”

“Not when it’s a semi-windy night, and all windows are closed. To everyone, it’s just boys being boys and listening to music at home while staying out of trouble.”

“Trusting parents.”

“Exactly,” I say lowly, a little bit bitter at how different males are treated compared to women. “Then, after they tossed away the end, Anthony asked Rose if she wanted something to drink.” I lick my dry lips and pull my hand from his as I grab my bottle to take another sip, trying to distract myself from the slight shaking of my limbs. “Of course, she jumped at the chance to walk next door. No matter how much I begged her with my eyes, she had blinders on and left me without thinking twice.” My heart races, and my palms sweat. My breathing gets a tiny bit choppy. “It happened so fast. One second, I’m watching Rose walk past my gate, and the next, I’m on the paved ground with Lyle on top of me. I went to scream, and his hand covered my mouth, body pressing against mine.” My pretty little, Ava. We’re perfect together. “Beneath his hand, I yelled for him to get off, and just when I thought he would, the asshole brought his face closer, and I froze. His lips stopped just a hair’s breadth from mine as his hand traveled lower, stopping a few inches from my chest. I remember my eyes watering and the feel of his breath on my skin. How the stench of cheap beer and weed made me nauseous. I was so scared and?—”

“You don’t have to continue, Ava. I can put it together, sweetheart,” Elijah murmurs against my neck, and that’s when I realize that I’m no longer on the bench but sitting astride his lap. I’m in his arms, held tight while he rocks us a little side to side, and I don’t want to move. It hit me at that moment how much I needed this hug. For someone to believe me. “Just breathe in and out for me. That’s it. Slowly.”

“I’m okay.” My voice sounds off to my own ears. A tiny bit panicky, and yet, the more my body follows the rise and fall of his chest against my arm, the tension drains. Breathing gets easier. “He didn’t get to finish, Eli. Lyle moved to touch me, and I reacted, driving my knee as hard as I could into his balls. In agony, he rolled off, and I took the opportunity to run inside and lock the door.”

“That’s my girl.” He goes rigid beneath me. I know he didn’t mean to say that, and I’m not going to make a big deal out of it. Not now. Not when I shared something with him that’s worn me down for years. Elijah clears his throat and mutters a low Christ. “And Rose?”

“Came back a few minutes later swooning over her first kiss.” Elijah lets out a small groan as I shift in his lap, covering it with a cough. It’s a horrible sound, and I almost laugh. I would even find it mortifyingly hilarious if I didn’t feel so drained after my confession.

“She wasn’t a good friend,” he says, and the tinge of anger in his tone warms my heart. It shouldn’t, but it does.

I lay my head on his shoulder, a heavy sigh leaving me. “Trust me, I know.”

“How did you figure out who Jason is? Was it before today, and you were embarrassed or?—”

“This is where I ask that you don’t get mad at me…” His silence causes me to lift my head from the comfortable position. From where his scent is the strongest. Eli’s giving me a pointed look, silently asking me to carry on, and I give a small shrug. Grimace a bit. “After you left the apartment, I walked into the living room and the files Captain Perez left behind were a bit messy, but what caught my attention was a note with bold black writing on it that had blood. I’ve seen that before.”

“That note or?”

“Before the incident, Lyle invited me to a Valentine’s dance that I declined. His flowers, a bunch of daisies, came with an oversized card attached and the same handwriting style. Bold, blocky, and with a possessive and pushy undercurrent that made me uncomfortable.”

“I’m going to kill that motherfucker.” Eli’s voice is gravelly, almost a growl. The vehemence—his anger is palpable, but it doesn’t scare me. Instead, I feel understood and vindicated as we sit in silence once again. Not that it lasts long. After a few minutes, Elijah nudges my shoulder. “Want to get out of here? Do something fun?”

That’s one way to change the topic. “Is that your way of saying enough with the heavy?” It’s my attempt at a joke, but neither of us laughs.

“It’s my way of saying I need to see you smile again. That’s all I want.” Cupping my face in his warm hand, he pulls me a little closer and lays his forehead on mine. “How can I make you happy, Ava? How can I make it better?”

You already are. I almost say it. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I chicken out.

My face heats up, and my emotions are all over the place. From scared to angry to happy to starting to fall?—

“Baking,” I blurt out before completing that thought. A truth there’s no coming back from. “I miss cooking and baking.”

The hot water pelts down my back inside his shower. I’m sitting down on the floor, knees to my chest as I process the day. The tears have stopped, yet my emotions feel out of whack.

Everything we shared continues to replay in my head:

What he told me. What I confessed. What I still haven’t.

How Lyle’s attention always lingered: heated looks, trying to hold my hand, and punching my first boyfriend in the face for kissing my cheek after a school dance that same sophomore year. My parents and friends all thought that it was him seeing me as a little sister—being protective— because that’s the bullshit line he fed them.

No one paid attention when I said I barely knew the guy.

That just because he was a close friend of my neighbor didn’t mean he and I were close.

I didn’t hang out much less talk to them. That was Rose, not me.

My solace came the day he moved away, but the cost for that reprieve has been too high.

I’ll come for you.

For years, I lied to myself. I pushed him out of my mind and thanked God Lyle never tried to touch me again and took the rejection well, but the joke’s on me. This nightmare will never end. Realizing that this is a lost cause is a punch to the gut, and another sob catches in my throat, causing me to bite down hard on my bottom lip so Elijah doesn’t hear.

I’m screwed no matter which way I turn.

It’s why I’ve been hiding since we came back to his apartment. Avoiding. Trying to make amends with a puzzle full of broken pieces that fit within its new perimeters. It’s not supposed to.

I’m not supposed to think past surviving, and yet, I do. Want to.

With Elijah, I have hope. Have a chance at something uniquely normal, and it’s scary because how can I think of wanting more when I don’t know what tomorrow will bring?

Will they take me from here too?

Will Lyle or Jason get to me?

Will Elijah want anything to do with me after this?

And yet, despite all those lingering questions, there’s a blooming force growing within that scares the bejeebers out of me. A woman running for her life shouldn’t be focusing on her handler. I shouldn’t like how good he smells or feels against me. How much and how often I think about what his kisses would be like, even if we’ve never moved past hugs.

Will I be alive to celebrate my birthday next month? A sobering thought.

My heart aches for all the families Lyle’s destroyed. For the lives taken because I didn’t speak up when I should have.

“Why did I ever listen to you, Rose?”

“Where the hell have you been?” I whisper harshly, wiping away a tear as I wait at the now-locked gate. The minute a hobbling Jason left, I ran out and closed it, standing watch and listening closely for any screams. I’ve sent her multiple text messages, called her phone, and was seconds away from yelling for my dad when she walked back over.

Alone and smiling. Blushing.

Chill. I’ll be right over. ~ Rosie

That’s all she sent me while I worried a hole in the grass. I didn’t snitch on her, and it’s all because of that single text. That, and the fact that I still don’t know how to process what happened.

Maybe it’s the shock. My anger and confusion.

The fear. Disgust.

“You’re being a Debbie Downer when I’ve just had the best night of my life, chick.”

“Are you kidding me right now? What you did was unsafe, Rose.” My heart’s still beating fast and my limbs are jittery—the area around my jaw is sore from Jason’s hold. “What were you thinking?”

“That he’s hot. That I like his attention.” She giggles, touching the right side of her neck with the tips of her fingers. “Don’t be mad, but I was busy enjoying myself. He’s so amazing, Ava, and ? —”

“Jason forced himself on me,” I blurt out, choking back a sob. A harsh shudder runs down my spine; I feel dirty. Can still smell him. “He knocked me down and climbed on top of me. Pressed himself while covering my mouth with his hand and…I couldn’t scream.”

“Are you sure?” She’s still smiling, nudging my shoulder as if I’m joking with her. “It’s probably a huge misunderstanding. A dick move, yes, but I’m sure Jason’s just messing with you.”

“He tried to ? —”

“No, he didn’t.” Rose grabs my hand then, her eyes pleading. “Don’t ruin this for me, please. Besides, he’s my future boyfriend’s best friend, and no one will believe you.”

“What the ? —”

“Ava?” Elijah calls out, tapping gently on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”

“I’m almost out.” Standing, my muscles protest from being in one position for a while. God knows how long, and as I rush to lather and rinse off using his shower gel, again, it hurts. My legs are half asleep, and I hold onto the small built-in alcove for balance. “Give me five minutes.”

“Take your time. I’m actually going to?—”

“Can’t hear you! One sec,” I yell out, slightly high-pitched. Turning the temperature knob to a cooler setting, I dip my face beneath the water to wash away the tears I’ve shed, hoping any redness calms down enough and I’m not questioned.

It takes a few minutes for me to regain full feeling and then turn the water off, grabbing a towel as I step out. Cool air hits my skin and I shiver, tightening the fluffy fabric around me.

He’s still just outside of this door. Can hear the heavy steps of his boots on the wooden floors right before he stops and his phone rings. It starts and then stops, only to start all over again.

“Motherfuck,” Eli spits out, and I have a feeling it has everything to do with whomever is calling. “Sweetheart, I need to—” he trails off as I open the door, stopping in front of him in a terry cloth robe. I’m not trying to tempt him, but there’s no choice but to step out like this again when I left my clothing inside my room.

The same electrical currents flow between us—the palpable hunger and intensity from the last time we were in this position—yet we don’t react. Instead, his body is tense and his jaw ticks, but those hazel eyes remain on mine. Ever the gentleman, and I appreciate it.

Now’s not the time. We can’t be. I can’t.

No matter how much my body yearns for him to comfort me.

“You need to leave, and something happened.”

Elijah swallows hard, giving me a small nod. “He’s been spotted in Arizona.”

“Go on. I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ava.”

“I will be when you find him.” It’s the best I can do, and his expression is one of understanding. Elijah takes a few steps in my direction, closing the gap between us. My skin prickles in the anticipation of his nearness. For a minute or two, the man looks at me with so much warmth that it creates butterflies in my stomach. Soothes my fragile soul.

It also makes my lips lift into a tiny smile no matter how much I try to fight it.

I lose myself in his stare.

“I’m going to give you your life back one surprise at a time.” Bringing a hand to my face, he cups my chin and rubs his thumb across my warm cheek. “Please enjoy my kitchen while I’m gone.”

That’s all he says before walking away and out the door.

It’s confusing. Leaves me breathless.

He’s… wait . His kitchen?