17. AVA
AVA
For the first time since I arrived back at Wrangler Creek, I am having a good morning. Not to sound cliché, but the birds were chirping, the wind was calm, and I actually slept well.
I can finally say that I have perfectly settled at the ranch. I have the music classes at the rec center to look forward to every Saturday—like today—Zane is actually being civil toward me, and I am no longer ruining things by sneaking into his bed every night.
Our night together is still stuck in my mind because even though it was just a distraction to Zane, it meant the world to me. But that is okay—I was the one who came onto him, and since it might never happen again, I’ll hold onto those precious memories.
Currently, I’m in the kitchen alone, writing music as I try to eat breakfast while Ella is helping Daisy with her hair because we have to leave soon.
“Sounds like another hit,” Zane’s unmistakable voice rumbles behind me.
I thought I was alone in the kitchen, so his presence surprises me. I end up jumping up and spilling some coffee on my hand. Good thing it’s cooled down; otherwise it would have burned me.
“Jesus! You scared me!” I exclaim, grabbing a tissue to clean myself up.
He walks around to face me and shrugs unapologetically.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“A few minutes.”
“Creepy,” I mutter under my breath, wondering why he wouldn’t say something when he walked in.
Was he just watching me?!
He opens the fridge, grabs a carton of milk, and pours it into a glass. I’ve never pegged him for a milk-drinking guy. But instead of drinking it, he grabs my coffee mug instead and replaces it with the milk.
“It’s better for you.”
I look at the glass distastefully. I have nothing against milk—I just prefer my coffee. I push it away with the tip of my finger and reach for my coffee mug, but he grabs it before I can and drinks it all.
I sit there, mouth open in shock, wondering why he’s hell-bent on bullying me. He even has the audacity to belch when he’s done.
“Milk,” he asserts firmly, pushing the glass closer to me.
“I don’t want it,” I defy.
“You can either drink it of your own volition or I’ll feed it to you like a baby bird,” he warns.
“You wouldn’t dare,” I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest.
He cocks his eyebrow challengingly before walking around the counter like a man on a mission. Is he serious? He can’t be. He reaches out to grab the glass, but this time I’m faster and get it before he does, bringing it to my lips.
He stops in his tracks and watches me until I drink the whole glass.
“There, are you happy now?” I grit out, slamming the glass down.
“Very.”
Now that he’s gotten what he wanted, I expect him to leave, but instead he gets even closer to me. What now?
I was having a really good morning, and now he’s ruining it.
His gaze is too intense for me to maintain eye contact, so I break it easily. Is this man not aware of how intimidating he can be?
“We still have unfinished business between us,” he says.
Huh?
What is he talking about? I’ve been good—I did as he asked, I stopped apologizing and invading his space, I even got my meds to curb the sleepwalking.
“Look at me,” he drawls commandingly.
Every instinct in me is telling me to obey him, but I’m also scared of the tongue-lashing that is undoubtedly coming, so I keep my eyes low.
He grunts in frustration and I flinch, closing my eyes, bracing myself for the worst. I wait and wait, but nothing happens. Just as I’m about to open my eyes, I feel his rough fingers on my chin, pinching it, tilting my head up.
“Look at me, Miss Diva...”
The moment that nickname leaves his lips, I am done for. I’ve missed hearing him say it with such softness that it almost brings tears to my eyes. This time, I obey him, and my eyes flutter open to meet his dangerously dark ones.
He’s watching me, not with the expected usual animosity but with curiosity, wonder, and one more feeling I can’t quite place my finger on, leaving me confused. Where is the anger and wrath that usually comes whenever we cross paths?
“We need to talk,” he speaks up softly, catching me off-guard as I’m wondering about his sudden shift in attitude toward me.
Just as I’m about to reply, Ella walks into the kitchen, and once again—just like she interrupted us that morning in his cabin—she’s quick to jump in between us.
“Zane, step away from her,” she screeches, pulling at his shirt, making his hand drop from my face.
Zane turns to her angrily, but Ella is not backing down. “Why won’t you leave Ava alone? Stop bullying her.”
“I’m not.”
He actually wasn’t, but I’m in too much of a shock to say anything.
Ella rolls her eyes, not believing him, and turns to me. “Are you okay?”
I nod, peeking at Zane through my lashes, who is busy glaring daggers at his sister.
“Get up, we’re leaving,” she demands, then turns to Zane. “And you stay the fuck away from her.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he defends, but Ella doesn’t listen.
I manage to grab my phone as she drags me away. I throw Zane one last apologetic look as we exit the kitchen.
“He really wasn’t doing anything,” I inform Ella as we walk to the front door.
“He had his hands on you.”
“Yes, he was asking me something, but you walked in before he could,” I explain.
Her steps falter. “Oh, so I’ve overreacted?”
“Yes, but just a tiny bit. Don’t worry about it,” I assure her.
She nods, but she does look guilty. It’s not her fault though—Zane hasn’t exactly proven himself to be kind when it comes to me, so her reaction was valid.
“What do you think Zane was going to ask me?” I ask Ella.
“I don’t know, probably to scold you again,” she answers, refusing to give her brother the benefit of the doubt.
I shake my head. “It didn’t feel that way.”
“With Zane, you never know. He’s a loose cannon.”
Is he though? It didn’t feel that way today.
My interrupted conversation with Zane bugs me the whole ride to the rec center, and by the time we get there, I’m no closer to an answer.
As we’re getting out of the car, my phone rings with a call from Lou, so I ask Ella and Daisy to head in first.
“You are so lucky I promised to pick up your calls; otherwise I’d have dodged this one as well,” I say when I pick up.
“Ava...” Lou calls out, and I can immediately tell that something is wrong.
“What is it? Is it him again?”
She hesitates before confirming, and I can hear the dread in her voice. “Yes...”
Fuck!
“What did he do?”
“You have to promise me to be calm about this first.”
“Dammit, Lou, tell me.”
“I don’t know how, but the stalker must have tracked you down there. There are pictures of you circulating the internet—recent ones of you in Wrangler Creek. Like the ones you’d expect from paparazzi, only creepy, like they were taken in secret,” she explains.
“What the fuck?!”
“The PR team and I are doing our best to get them taken down, but they’ve already done their rounds, so I’m sending you a security team down there,” she decrees.
I’m not going to allow her to do that. I don’t want any more people around me than there already are. “Don’t—that will only draw more attention to me. I’ll talk to the Morgans and stick to my original plan of not leaving the ranch.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I still have a month and a half left on my vacation, and I am not going to let him ruin it. Whoever the fuck he is.”
“Okay, but do let me know if anything happens. I’ll get you out of there immediately.”
“I will. Don’t worry, Lou, I’ll be okay,” I assure her.
We hang up, and I’m still reeling from the information I just received when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around with an annoyed look on my face that is soon replaced with panic.
“Mother?”
Miranda Fuerte, the woman who gave me life and who was once my closest ally. She is the spitting image of me, only older, with the most gorgeous dark hair, defined Hispanic looks, and flawless olive skin.
“Ah, so you know I am your mother?” she retorts.
“What are you doing here? How did you...”
“How did I find you? You’re famous, sweetheart. You seriously didn’t think you could come here and I wouldn’t know, right?” she bites back, faking a smile.
My hands start shaking, heartbeat increasing as I start assessing my surroundings for an exit strategy.
“Teaching a music class? Really, Noa? This is beneath you,” she mocks.
“It’s just for fun,” I defend, her words making me feel small.
“Fun? I did not work my ass off your whole life to build your career for you to be ‘having fun.’ Let’s go—we have lots to talk about,” she demands.
“No.”
“No?”
“I am not going anywhere with you. You’re not my manager anymore, remember,” I assert, wrapping my arms protectively around myself.
She smiles and takes a step closer to me. “That’s a misunderstanding that we are going to clear up right now.”
Misunderstanding? What happened between us was catastrophic, definitely not a simple disagreement.
“Don’t be stubborn, Noa. Let’s go!”
She takes my hand and starts dragging me away, and that’s when I spot my stepfather’s car with him behind the wheel and my stepbrother next to him. No! They are not going to drag me into their mess again.
I yank my hand back, and before my mother can react, I take off running. She screams, and I hear someone take off after me, which only pushes me to run faster. I have no idea where I’m going—I just know that I need to get away from her, from them, before they put me through hell once more.
Never again!