21. Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
Ava
Despite what I tell my mother, I steer clear of my husband for the rest of the night.
I sip water, and I pretend to anyone who’ll listen that I’m appalled by the behavior of his workers showing up at this charity event for children, making threats.
Who do they think they are? It’s like slipping back into an old skin that no longer fits, but the sizing is close enough that people think I still wear it.
Out of the corner of my eye, Raul’s presence is a constant as he drinks more and more. Normally, I’m happy when he’s this drunk. He’ll go home and collapse in bed and expect nothing from me. Tomorrow, I’ll have to play nursemaid as he moans about being too old to drink so much.
It’s much better than the temptress performance I thought I’d need to get me through the night. Maybe he really won’t remember the altercation with Stephen or why I have his index finger and thumb imprinted on my bicep.
Could I really get that lucky?
The cocktail party and auction wind down, and Datu seeks me out to say that Raul is already waiting in the car. God, if he’s passed out, I will thank all my lucky stars.
When I slide into the rear of the vehicle, it becomes immediately apparent that Raul is still pissed off rather than passed out.
“We’re going to get Landon,” he says.
“Landon is spending the night at Gage and Ember’s house. I took all his stuff there.”
“I’m bringing my son home.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I check the time on my phone. “It’s midnight. He’ll have been sleeping for hours.”
“And he’ll sleep again just fine in his own bed at home.”
“We can get him in the morning.”
“It’s already been decided.”
“You’ve had too much to drink. You’ll be hungover tomorrow. Why do you need him in the house when you’re not going to want to be around him? Are you forgetting how much energy he has at six in the morning?”
“Sir?” the driver asks from the front seat. “Gage Tucker’s house or home?”
“Where’s Datu?” I ask.
“He’ll be trailing us. Wanted two cars with the ruckus at the event.”
“Gage’s house,” Raul says, ignoring me. “My son is coming home.”
Frosty silence sits between us as the other security guard, whose name I can’t remember, navigates a route I’d never take to get to my brother’s house.
“I will be pressing charges,” Raul says. “You can tell your boyfriend that.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. There’s nothing going on between us. I swear on my company and on my son’s life. Nothing has happened that you need to be so angry about.”
“I saw the way you were looking at him, Ava. I’m not so drunk that my eyes don’t work.”
“You’re right. All that alcohol must have given you super vision on the dimly lit patio to know what the look in my eyes was from where you were standing.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“Then don’t make up things that aren’t true. I just asked why he’d been taken off our security detail.”
“He’s not fit to be on it. Clearly he has a temper he cannot control.”
“I have a bruise on my arm. Who’s the one with a temper he cannot control?”
Raul undoes the top button of his dress shirt to reveal the red mark that may turn into a bruise of his own. “Perhaps both of us is the answer. But I’m not letting this go. Either he pays for his behavior or you do.”
If the red mark on his neck turns into a bruise, it complicates what would have been a simple he said/he said argument in court with me as Stephen’s ally. That’s evidence I can’t easily dispute.
I’m saved from having to answer when we pull into Gage’s driveway, and Raul exits the car. Rather than staying, I get out too. I can only imagine what Gage is going to think with us showing up here in the middle of the night to get our sleeping child. It’s selfish, unhinged behavior.
“I’ll call Gage,” I say, “don’t…” But Raul is already laying on the doorbell, ringing it over and over. “Wake everyone up,” I finish.
Lights spring to life, and I can chart Gage’s path through the house. When the door swings back, he’s shirtless and clearly irritated.
“What the fuck, Ava? Ember’s up with all the kids now. It’ll take us forever to get them back to sleep.”
“I’m—” I try to apologize.
“That must mean my son is awake,” Raul says, trying to step around Gage.
“This was your idea?” Gage’s tone is scornful. “You ask us to take him for the night, and then you think coming at”—he checks his watch—“12:22 a.m. to get him is the right call?”
“We’re taking him home,” Raul says.
“You’ve been drinking,” Gage says, still not budging from the door.
“I have a driver.” Raul tosses his hand back toward the waiting vehicle. “I want my son.”
“He’s awake,” Ember calls from inside the house. “I’ll get his things together.”
“No need,” Raul says when Gage finally steps back to let him in. “I can do that.”
As soon as Raul disappears inside the house, Gage turns on me. “What the hell is this?”
My throat is clogged with tears, and when I meet Gage’s frustrated expression through my blurry, tear-filled gaze, his shoulders sink.
“Ava, what the fuck is going on? Do you need to stay here too? The vibe is all wrong.”
I shake my head. “He’s just drunk.” I manage to push the words out. The alternative—telling Gage everything I’m thinking and feeling—is way too much for a doorway conversation when my husband and son could reappear at any moment.
Raul comes storming back to the front of the house with Landon hitched on his hip and our son’s overnight bag clutched in his other hand.
Given how much Raul’s had to drink, I’d rather he wasn’t carrying Landon, but saying anything will just cause more conflict.
The last thing I need is to scare Landon.
“Mom?” Landon says to me in a sleepy voice as the two of them pass me.
“Let’s go, Ava,” Raul calls back.
“Hey,” Gage says, looping his fingers loosely around my wrist when I turn to follow. “I got a bad feeling. Why don’t you all stay here? Sleep it off.”
“Ava!” Raul says, already depositing Landon in the back of the waiting car. “If you want to be forgiven for tonight’s indiscretions, you get your ass in this car now.”
Gage’s spine straightens, and he lets go of my wrist to walk out of his house in his bare feet. “What did you say to her?”
“No,” I say, pressing my palm to his bare chest. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”
“Ava,” Ember says from behind Gage in the entranceway. “This doesn’t feel good.”
“It’ll be fine. It’s going to be fine.” I choke on the last word. “He’s drunk. But it’ll be fine.”
“Last warning, Ava, and then I leave without you. Perhaps I should do that anyway. Take it all. Leave you with nothing.”
“She’d never have nothing,” Gage says, indignant for me. “What is your fucking problem?”
Which is true, but I’d have lost two of the most important things. Raul knows the cards he holds.
“Ava?” Raul prompts.
“I’m coming,” I say, keeping my head down as I try to pass Gage. God, this is so humiliating.
“This is not okay,” Gage says to me in a harsh whisper. “We’re getting you out of this mess.”
“Tomorrow’s a new day,” I say, trying to inject false brightness into my tone. “Today wasn’t a good one, but tomorrow will be.” I meet his gaze as I take a couple steps backward, away from him, toward the wrath of my husband. “You’ll see.”
The set of his jaw as I turn back to my husband and slide into the back of the car beside my son tells me that this conversation isn’t over.
Landon snuggles into my side, and I double-check the buckle on his seat belt. Raul doesn’t acknowledge me as the car glides away from Gage, Ember, and their kids standing in the driveway. Their concerned expressions only make the knot in my stomach tighten.
“Don’t take this route,” Raul says to our driver, his impatience coating the car in even more discomfort. “This is the long way. It’s almost one in the morning. Take the direct route.”
“Director Foster—”
“As in Stephen Foster?” Raul is practically vibrating with renewed anger. “He has nothing to do with our security this time. You take us the route I asked for.”
The driver hits the message button on the screen, and Raul sits forward. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes, sir,” the driver says, “but I need to let Datu know what’s happening.”
“He’s following,” Raul says. “Let him follow. Just do as I asked.”
The driver signals to turn down the road that’ll lead us back to the way we’d typically take home. At the next junction, we connect with the road we would have taken from my parents’ house, which is by far our fastest route.
Landon has drifted back to sleep, but at Raul’s harsh tone, he burrows closer, as though even his subconscious knows to avoid his father when he’s like this.
“I will not allow you to make a mockery out of me,” Raul says, staring out the window. “If you need more physical attention, I can provide that.” He turns to look at me, his eyes hard. “Perhaps even insist on it. Unleash those animal instincts in the bedroom instead of all over the country.”
“You’re drunk,” I say, hoping he’ll forget this in the morning, that my mother erased the footage, that I won’t actually end up cornered instead of unleashed.
Because I would do almost anything to stop Stephen from being in trouble for defending me.
Anything to stop Raul from taking Landon, from shutting down Reckless. Anything.
The road around us is deserted, and a chill streaks down my spine. I sit up straighter, and headlights flood the interior as we pass through an intersection. Instinctively, I clutch Landon tighter.
“Oh, god, is that truck going to…”
The car we’re in jolts at the same time a loud bang reverberates in my head.
Our car rotates, spinning, spinning so fast my head hurts and my stomach heaves.
I cling to Landon, trying to keep him tucked beside me.
The car hitches suddenly, as though it’s made contact with something else, and then we’re flying, tumbling and tumbling.
The crunch of the vehicle at each rotation is the only sound I can hear.
And then everything goes black.