Chapter 14 Tariq “Reek” Horton
TARIQ “REEK” HORTON
Ididn’t have a good reason for showing up at Ava’s new place.
Security had given me the address. I had the building layout too, because the men I had watching the place sent me everything I needed to know, like entrances, cameras, elevator access, and blind spots.
I had all of it before she probably even figured out which light switch in the hallway controlled what.
Honestly, I couldn’t stand not having access to her. I hated not being able to put my eyes on her whenever I felt like it and know for myself that she was straight. That was why I popped up. But standing there in that nursery watching her build a life that didn’t need me was making me regret it.
The room already felt like a nursery. There was a rocking chair in the corner. Tiny outfits hung in the closet. It looked like she had a whole vision for this baby and was carrying it out with or without me.
That shit drove me insane. Watching her stand up to me and deny me made it worse.
It proved something I already knew and kept trying to out grow.
Ava got under my skin deeper than anybody else ever had.
She always had. Even now, with her mad as hell and standing there breathing hard from the argument, she still looked like something I wanted to grab with both hands and ruin myself over.
But I refused to say any of that tender shit because the second I looked at that crib too long, I felt the same anxiety I had when my grandparents left me home alone for the weekend.
I was only eleven. They said they were going out of town for the weekend like leaving a child alone in a musty place with barely any food and strict orders not to open the door was normal.
My grandmother left a loaf of cheap bread, a jar of peanut butter with a spoon stuck in it, and one can of ravioli in the cabinet.
I remember the silence more than anything.
The silence was so different when you knew there wasn’t another adult around.
Every knock from pipes, footstep in the hallway, and every car outside made me jump out of my skin because there was nobody there to make me feel safe.
I remember sitting on that couch, knees to my chest, trying not to think too hard about the fact that nobody in the world would’ve known if something happened to me until they felt like coming back.
That kind of loneliness stayed in you. That kind of neglect changed the way you looked at family forever. And now I was in a nursery, staring at a crib, feeling like I just wanted to take off and run.
Ava continued to glare at me with those piercing light eyes, but behind that anger, I could see the hurt.
I knew I put it there. I knew every ugly thing I said had been sitting with her since the day I said it.
I was trying to find the courage to tell her the one truth I hated most. She was everything I wanted and everything I feared more than death itself.
I wanted to tell her that she had me fucked up in the best and worst way, that seeing her stand up for herself like this made me want her even more and scared me even worse.
Before I could find the nerve, her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen and answered. “What’s up, Saint?”
I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I watched her eyes buck. “What?!” she blurted, already breathless. “She’s in labor?”
She started moving too fast, hands shaking, looking around the room like she couldn’t figure out what to do first.
“Oh my God, already?! Why didn’t you all call me sooner?!” I could hear Saint’s muffled reply then Ava told him. “I’m coming. Tell her I’m on my way.”
She hung up and rushed past me out of the nursery.
I followed slowly, not knowing if I should or not.
She went straight into what I figured had to be her bedroom.
The room was nice. Bigger than I expected.
Saint hadn’t been lying when he told me she had already fully furnished this place.
There was a king-sized bed with a tall, upholstered headboard.
She already had a dresser and lamps on the nightstands.
A throw was folded neat at the foot of the bed.
Ava was frantically trying to get her shoes on.
She had one hand braced against the side of the bed while she hopped her foot into a boot, and it was the first time I really noticed little things about her pregnancy I’d been too angry to pay attention to before; the way she automatically put a hand at the small of her back when she stood too long, the way she breathed heavier now that she was carrying extra weight, the way her stomach changed the whole shape of her body but still looked right on her.
She was beautiful, baby bump included.
She shrugged into her coat, still breathing fast, and reached for her purse.
“I’ll drive you,” I finally said.
She didn’t even look at me. “I’m good.”
I stepped farther into the room. “You’re too anxious.”
“I said I’m good.”
“I’m taking you,” I told her. “That’s it.”
That made her finally turn around and glare at me. “I can drive myself.”
“Not like this, you can’t.”
I raised a brow and just stood there to let her see I meant it.
She muttered something under her breath, grabbed her phone, and started calling Livia while she headed for the front door.
By the time we got through the condo and down the elevator, she was already telling Livia that Zahra was in labor and to tell everybody else.
I stayed quiet beside her, but the whole time she talked, I kept catching little things; how she rubbed her stomach without thinking, how her breathing stayed quicker than it should’ve, how tired she looked around the eyes even while panic was pushing her.
I could feel my attraction to her changing. I still wanted her. But it wasn’t just lust and chemistry. It felt deeper and more powerful than anything I’d ever allowed myself to feel.
By the time we got outside the building, she was still trying to head toward her own car.
I caught her arm. “I said I’m driving you.”
She snorted and yanked her arm free. “Why do you care?”
“Because you’re worked up, and you’re not about to get in a car like this and hurt yourself.”
“There you go again,” she snapped, spinning toward me.
“You always want to control some piece of this while offering absolutely no real emotional security. You are always teetering on the line, Reek. One minute you care. One minute you’re cold.
One minute you show up. One minute you act like this baby ruined your life.
I am tired. I would rather raise this baby alone than keep letting you hurt me every time you get scared.
If you’re out, then be out. Show up at the appointments.
Come to the baby shower. Be there when the child is born.
Do whatever little father stuff you can manage. But that is it.”
That made me pause and see what was really happening. Ava was done with my bullshit. She was really building a life that did not require me. It made me admire her more.
I wanted to tell her that. But I couldn’t get any of that out. So, I did what I knew how to do instead.
I grabbed her by the elbow.
“Reek!” she snapped, trying to pull back.
I held on and started walking her toward my car.
“You are doing too much,” she yelled, kicking against me while I kept dragging her. “Let me go!”
“No.”
“I hate you!”
“That’s cool.”
I opened the passenger door and all but tossed her inside when she still wouldn’t cooperate. She scrambled upright in the seat, fussing, and acting like she was about to hop right back out.
“Don’t play with me, Ava,” I warned, shutting the door.
Then I rounded the hood, got in behind the wheel, and pulled off before she could try to jump out.
She sat over there scowling out of the windshield, arms folded, refusing to look at me.