Chapter 22
Ava hardly slept a wink. She tossed and turned and stared at the ceiling, ran her fingers through Panda’s soft fur, and tried not to think of the impending conversation with Lori over lunch the next day. It’s not her job to explain herself, but once she does, she can only hope that Lori will understand. Maybe even be happy about what’s she’s found with Dean.
That’s another reason she hardly slept because every second she wasn’t thinking of Lori, she was thinking of Dean, and everything they’ve done together in crystal clear high-definition detail. It’s the best porn she ever watched right there behind her closed eyelids.
Not to mention that she misses him.
She’s been stranded in the desert so long that she forgot what water tasted like, hadn’t craved it anymore, and was doing a decent job of surviving without it. But now that she’s had a taste, she can’t quench her thirst, and all she wants is another drink. Thoughts of Dean doing impossibly naughty things to her won’t help her right now, in a back booth at a cafe a block away from work. She’s off today but it’s a good meeting place to have a much-needed conversation with Lori and a little sugar might help this all go down smoother.
A slice of pie will be her backup.
Lori wanted to hash everything out over the phone the night before, worried and upset after hearing more rumors from the prison grapevine. Somehow, Ava had been able to push her confession to a lunch date, giving herself enough time to prepare, or stress depending on the moment.
She’s got a mug of steaming hot tea between her hands when Lori breezes through the door and then Ava is face to face with the person she’s been avoiding for the past week, maybe longer. Suddenly, all the mental rehearsing in the world feels completely useless.
Neither says a word for a long, tense moment until Lori breaks the silence. “Talk to me? Tell me what’s going on? Because what I heard can’t actually be real life.”
Now or never. This was always inevitable and the last thing she can stomach is denying him or what they have together. But first…a little clarification. “What did you hear?”
“Just the same as before, that you’ve been seeing that man from work. The inmate, only that this time he’s out, that you’re seeing him on the outside, which is way worse. Tell me it’s not true?”
“It’s true,” she says matter-of-factly, watching emotions flit across Lori’s face like fireworks.
“How long? Why didn’t you say anything? Are you okay?”
The first two questions are reasonable enough, but the last one rakes its nails along her spine, making her huff out a disgruntled sound, protective of Dean, as if she’s automatically in danger by his proximity alone. Still, she tries to remember that Lori is only this worried because Ava has done a bang-up job of avoiding this conversation. Of course, she fears the worst with only rumors and her imagination to fill in the blanks.
“A couple of weeks, but it was before that, too. When he was still inside, when I told you before it was nothing that wasn’t true. I was afraid to say anything and at that point I wasn’t even sure what this was. I didn’t want you to talk me out of it.” She pauses, choosing to hope that the hurt look Lori wears is only temporary. “And yes, I’m fine. Better than fine.”
Maybe there was a lit in her voice at that last part or some sort of tell on her face, like the world’s worst poker player because in an instant Lori connects the sparse amount of dots, coming to the conclusion that what’s happening between her and Dean has already passed whatever base equals orgasmic bliss.
“Ava, did you sleep with him? Has he been to your house? He knows where you live?”
Lori is panicked, nearly shrieking into the space between them, but somehow the volume of her words remains above a whisper, conscious of not spreading their business to the other patrons.
“He’s been to my house and yes, I slept with him. I haven’t been with anyone other than John. I didn’t know it could be like that. I didn’t know that I could want it like that.”
Ava never went into details about how bad it was between her and John, but that sort of thing is impossible to hide from someone close enough to see it and Lori had been close. Much as John tried to isolate her from the outside world, she still had one friend, even if their visits were few and far between, and scheduled according to healing injuries.
The happiness that spreads across her face is unexpected enough to make Lori’s expression go soft, easing away from the horror it held only a moment ago. “He didn’t hurt you? Have you heard from him since then?”
The idea of Dean hurting her in bed is absurd, but only because she knows how gentle he is, and how much control he has. Only because she trusts him. It wasn’t long ago that she had the same fears. She tries to let her friend in as much as she can without giving her graphic details. Lori has earned the truth, something Ava should have given her a long time ago.
“I know all you have in your head right now is the image of an inmate taking advantage of me.” Lori looks like she’s about to break in and cut her off, say something about how that’s not true but Ava holds up an abrupt hand. “No, it’s okay. I haven’t made the best choices. I married someone who beat me so clearly I don’t have the best track record. You’re right to worry, but I swear to you that Dean is the last person who’d ever hurt me.”
Lori might be coming around. Her frown eases while she listens so Ava keeps going.
“He saved me that day of the riot. I’d be dead or worse right now if he didn’t and he wasn’t in prison for anything violent. Had pot in his car during a traffic stop. Something his brother put there, which I know sounds like a stupid excuse, but I believe him. Six months, first offense. He’s not some hardened criminal and we can’t help where we meet someone, right? I’m so glad I met him, Lori. I feel so different when I’m with him. Safer. Happier.”
Lori leans back in her chair, pensive and that’s when Ava realizes her eyes are wet, that the last few lines of her rushed explanation prompted a few unshed tears to gather and a weight to settle in her chest, heavy and warm, at the idea of how true her words are.
She opens her phone, flicking to the text screen between her and Dean filled with silly conversations and emoji flowers, photos of panda, and smilie faces. “To answer your last question, I’ve definitely heard from him since then.”
Lori’s eyebrows shoot up when she sees the screen, taking in the fact that Dean hasn’t fucked her and ran.
“Wow okay. So that’s a good sign. You’re sure about this? Really sure? Because if you’re not it’s okay, I know someone that I’ve been thinking of nudging you toward anyway. He works at the Home Depot. Greg knows him. Seems nice and easy going and don’t look at me like that. Your face is all screwed up like you smelled something bad.”
Ava cringes. The very idea of being with anyone else makes her stomach drop and the inside of her cheeks prickle like she wants to throw up in her mouth a little bit. There is no one else for her. She’s certain of it. It takes a special person to get past all the walls she’s put up and Dean has scaled every one like an expert mountain climber. “I’m not dating some guy from Home Depot, Lori. Why don’t you date him? He seems nice, right? Safe and easygoing?”
Lori’s face falls on a huff of frustration. “I’m married. It’s different.”
“Being married doesn’t stop plenty of people. The real reason is because you love your husband and the idea of cheating on him with anyone else makes you feel a little sick. Am I right?”
That’s when Ava realizes what she’s said, setting herself up perfectly for the next question that hits the air like a bullet.
“Are you saying you love him?”
Love is a strong word. Something she never thought she’d feel for anyone. She briefly felt it for John at the beginning of their relationship, only now she wonders if that’s even what it was. She was so young then, had no real concept of what love could be, and what she felt for him in those first few months seems like puppy love in comparison to what she feels for Dean.
She does love him and she meant every syllable when she told him so. She won’t deny it to Lori and gives her friend a soft nod of confirmation, untrusting that her voice won’t be tinted with emotion.
“Oh, sweetie. I didn’t think it was anything like that,” Lori admits.
“Be happy for me? Please?”
“Of course I am. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy. I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me sooner. Let’s just forget about that guy from Home Depot unless you need some duct tape or paint from aisle seven.”
She lets herself laugh, pursing her lips. “No paint and I’m good on the duct tape, too.”
“Hey, why don’t we all get together? Have a barbecue? I’d love to meet Dean and I know Greg is dying to use the new grill. He’s practically salivating over the user manual it came with, just waiting for a reason to fire it up and burn the house down.”
It’s a good-natured offer and Ava knows that Lori and even Greg would be on their best behavior. They wouldn’t try to make Dean uncomfortable or give him the third degree, but nonetheless, he would be uncomfortable, she’s sure of it. Seeing a guard from the prison out in the real world and being forced to share a beer and a burger might not be his idea of a good time. Still, she can’t hide him away forever. Lori and Greg are part of her life, the least she can do is present the offer.
“I don’t know if he’d be okay with that yet. His time in prison was difficult. He didn’t have much interaction with Greg, but seeing a guard in a social setting like that might be too much this soon. I’ll ask though, I want you to meet him.”
Lori hisses through her teeth. “I didn’t even think of that. I guess it would be a little awkward. When you two are ready, just let me know, and we’ll be here.”
“Okay,” she replies softly, the two of them watching each other for a few beats before Ava gets up the courage to ask a favor. “Please be careful what you tell Greg about this. I know that how it started is frowned upon, and if something like that were to get confirmed…”
“Oh honey, it’s past that point now. Not because Greg told anyone but because it’s already reached the warden.”
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” Ava’s stomach twists and rolls, a future where she’s living off ramen noodles because she can’t pay her bills looms in her mind’s eye. “I haven’t heard anything from him yet, maybe it’ll go nowhere?”
“Maybe. I hope so, but that’s part of the reason I wanted to talk, to warn you.” Lori reaches across the table, gripping her hand. “Listen, I know this may not be what you want to hear but it could be for the best if you end up leaving that place. You know better than anyone how dangerous it is.”
Of course, she knows in intimate detail how dangerous it can be. The slice across her chest is proof she’ll carry with her for the rest of her life. That doesn’t mean she has any idea where else to go, or that she’s paid her penance yet.
For the best, for the best, it could be for the fucking best. Lori isn’t wrong, but the anxiety of searching for a new job is instant regardless.
Ava gets a call from the warden that evening, requesting a meeting in the morning, and all at once she knows that her whole world is about to change in ways she’s entirely unprepared for.
She hopes that she is strong enough by now to embrace the outcome.
* * *
Dean is being evicted.
No, that’s not right. His landlord is getting foreclosed on is closer to the truth, which means that Dean has roughly sixty days to find another place to live before he’s out on his ass. It’s unfair. He’s never late on his rent, keeps the place clean and well cared for, and even replaced the front door when it started cracking with something ten times better and way more attractive and paid for it from his own pocket. But none of that matters because he doesn’t own the house and his landlord is shit at handling money.
Dean had a permanent scowl on his face all day. Having grown up in an unstable household, not having a place to live ranks pretty high on his list of catastrophic circumstances. Even now, with a good job and reliable income, there’s a part of him that remembers how easily those things can be taken away.
Case in point, his house being foreclosed on right out from under him.
The only good thing about this whole day is that he gets to see Ava. He’s pulling into her driveway right now and can’t fucking wait to kiss her breathless and hold her in his arms again. The night before, spent alone in his own bed, had been harder than he expected and he laid awake for hours before finally drifting off, dreaming of her in between familiar nightmares.
He hardly has time to rap his knuckles over the door before she flings it open, excitement blushing her skin as she ushers him inside. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” He fidgets only a moment, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet before swooping in to press his lips to hers in greeting. It’s light and gentle and far too short, but her hand still finds his stubbled cheek and lingers there as he pulls away.
And then she’s in his arms, wrapping herself around his neck and pressing her face into the curve of his shoulder. He melts into the hug, tugging her close until she’s flush against him.
“Missed ya,” he says, instantly feeling like a needy idiot, but fuck if it isn’t the truth. He missed her like crazy.
“Missed you too.” She pulls back, her cheeks rosy and words honest. “Want some coffee before we tackle that thing? I got new pods, some sort of cinnamon flavor.”
He smiles at her eagerness over the coffee pods and accepts with a nod, more than willing to sit with her before getting to work on the car.
The cat greets him when he enters the kitchen, uncurling from his spot on the island to crawl up onto Dean’s shoulder like a parrot, perching there while soaking up the attention. “This a new thing? This shoulder sittin’?”
She shrugs, amused at the sight of him and Panda.
“Getting big, ain’t ya, buddy? Little fat, got a pooch on your belly. Your momma been feeding you them treats, hasn’t she?”
He hears a harsh gasp from across the kitchen where Ava fixes their coffees and spots a fair mixture of entertainment and horror cross her face.
“He is not fat! He just likes food, that’s all. I can’t say no to him. Look at how cute he is.”
There’s a jar of cat treats on the counter next to her that looks suspiciously less full and he huffs. “Uh-huh. Keep going like that and he’ll be a potato.”
“Careful there, or I’ll take my cat parrot back.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender, nudging the little cat off his shoulder so he can reach for the cup she’s handing him with a purse of her lips.
He has every intention of simply chatting with her about random things, whatever topic she prefers but somehow he may have let it slip no less than five minutes in that he’s being evicted from his house in less than two months and is forced to house hunt sooner rather than later. He underestimated how nice it is to have someone to talk to about the bullshit that pops up in his life. He’s so used to dealing with everything on his own that the idea of sharing with her is too tempting to refuse.
It’s a burden, though, and he regrets saddling her with his problems the moment he says it.
She blinks with a confused scowl. “That doesn’t seem fair. Can they do that? Just kick you out?”
“Yup. House ain’t mine so when the bank takes it back because my landlord is a fuckwit they can do whatever they want. Gonna start looking next week, see if I can find another house in this area.”
She’s pensive, but then there’s excitement in her face that he’s not sure what to do with. “Maybe I could help you look? It could be fun. I mean, I know none of this is fun, not really, especially not how it’s happening because they shouldn’t be kicking you out, but if you want some company on your house tours, I’m game.”
“Okay.” He agrees before he can overthink it.
He wonders if she’s the type to watch those shows on the home channel in between Stranger Things episodes. The ones where people buy houses and fix them up. The type of shit he always clicked right past, but now he smiles at the idea of her enjoying it.
“Don’t worry, I won’t try to sway you on anything weird. No shipping containers or yurts, I promise,” she teases, edging a little closer around the curve of the island and leaning her lower back into it, facing him.
“It’s alright.” He palms her hip, running his thumb into the dip of her waist by the bone. “I trust you.”
She beams at his words, her hand covering his where it rests, her eyes soft when she leans down to suck lightly on his bottom lip, making his skin tingle. Then she pulls back, her tone shifting into semi-sarcastic territory. “You know it’s kinda funny that you got evicted and I got fired on the same day.”
“Wait what?”
“Yeah. They don’t have proof anything happened on the prison grounds between us but I had a meeting this morning and it’s been quietly suggested to me that I may be better suited to employment elsewhere.”
An alarm sounds in Dean’s head. One of his worst fears about what they’ve been doing is becoming reality and guilt already threatens to overtake him. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Ava lifts her shoulders and then slumps them in defeat. “I’m not. You asked me once why I work there and I told you it was because I needed something fast and that was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth.”
“What’s the whole truth?”
“It’s a form of self-torture, I think. No one else will punish me for what happened to Charlotte, for not protecting her, but I can punish myself by enduring that place. Doing my own time.”
He squints, confused. “The accident wasn’t your fault.”
“No, but if I left with her sooner, if I was brave enough to escape him she would still be here. But I stayed. I know it might not make logical sense, but that’s how I feel.” There is a detached tone in her words, in the way she crosses her arms over her middle and stares at everything but him. “Maybe it’s better than I’m forced to leave because I dunno if I ever would have on my own.”
Dean can’t deny that he’s relieved to know she isn’t at the prison every day, risking her safety among the inmates. He’d never ask her to quit, but there is a selfish part of him that has considered it a few times, knowing the request would never leave his lips. He didn’t want their relationship to be the reason she got fired but he didn’t like knowing she was in danger every shift, either.
“I ain’t gonna lie and say that I’m not glad you won’t be in that place anymore, but I’m still sorry it was me that got you in trouble.”
“I don’t regret anything we did.” She cups his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “That job or you? I’ll pick you every time. It’s more than a fair trade.”
No one has ever chosen him, not like this. He has never been anything to anyone, certainly not a first pick or a prize, and definitely not worth losing a job over, but she is telling him that he is and a thread of hope grabs hold of her words and allows him to believe it.
“You’ll find something even better,” he tells her. “I know it. We’ll figure this out, me and you.”
She leans forward, her words a precursor to her kiss. “We will.”
* * *
It’s another half hour before they finally make it to her driveway, too caught up in kissing in her kitchen to hurry.
Once he does get out there, it takes him a grand total of seven minutes to replace the oil container and refill it. Hardly a big job at all and he feels a sense of accomplishment sweep through him at finishing it just like he said he would. It is however, enough time for his boss, Hank, to call him back to work, pleading over the phone about a surprise client with a massive job that he can’t handle alone and promising overtime pay that Dean would be stupid to say no to considering his situation.
He and Ava hadn’t discussed their plans for the night, but he hoped he could stay and she would invite him into her bed again. Only now that’s out of the question, and he sighs in frustration.
Her eyes stray to his phone even after he ends the call, finding a photo of her and Panda as his lock screen. He blushes, pocketing his phone as if he’d been caught doing something scandalous.
Thankfully, she doesn’t call him on it.
“It’s okay, go help Hank with that truck. It sounds dire,” she says. “We’ve still got a date with some houses soon, right?”
“Absolutely.” He nods, pecking her on the lips one last time, briefly wondering if they might be ready for a quickie before he leaves, but deciding against it. They aren’t at the ‘bend her over the sofa and come in sixty seconds or less’ stage and he isn’t going to rush them there.
This eviction has a silver lining after all, he thinks as he backs out of her driveway. He’s never been much for house hunting aside from needing a place to lay his head that wasn’t crime-ridden and drug-filled. Now though, with Ava by his side, he can’t wait to get started.