by J. L. Beck
I love you.
I would never tell him, never, but I love him too.
47
Vance
My fingers throb, and my eyes burn, but I finally finished the English paper for her. Most think I’m dumb, that I don’t know my ass from my head, but I do. I just don’t apply myself. Thumbing through the freshly printed pieces of paper, I count them ensuring they’re all there before stapling them together. I would never put so much work into one of my own papers, for her, on the other hand, I stayed up until almost midnight so I could finish this. Professor Hall might have given her ten days, but I want this off her mind.
Opening my door, I sneak across the hall to hers. All I plan on doing is going into her room quietly to lay this on her desk so she has it in the morning, but when I grab the brass doorknob and turn it slowly, pushing it open gently, a soft sob meets my ears. The noise is earth-shattering, raw, and a cry for help. I open the door enough to slip into the room. It’s dark, but I can see enough to make out the bed.
I put the paper down on the desk and step closer. Ava’s sobbing quiets down, but I know she’s still crying by the low sniffing noises she’s emitting. I should ask her if she is okay? If there is anything I can do. But I’m not stupid. I know she’ll just send me away.
She doesn’t want to admit that she needs anyone, and especially not me. Staring down at her unmoving form, I wonder if she would push me away if I slid into the bed next to her? Maybe she would just let me comfort her while pretending I’m not here. I’ve never comforted anyone in my life, mainly because I never had the need or urge to do so. Not until her.
Weighing my options after standing in her room for two minutes like a creep, I finally decide to try it. Without lifting the blanket, I crawl onto the bed, kicking my boots off, each one hitting the floor with a loud thud. If she notices, she doesn’t say anything. Biting my bottom lip, I scoot closer, waiting for her to tell me to leave, to fuck off.
I don’t stop until my body is touching hers and even then, that’s not enough for me. Wrapping a heavy arm around her slim waist, I nestle her into the spot against me, the spot that I’m sure was made just for her. She stiffens for a few seconds before relaxing into my touch. Breathing her in, I let her floral scent calm me. A moment later, she starts to sob again, heavy bursts of what I can only describe as pain rip from deep within her chest.
I want to say something, anything, but I don’t know what. Instead, I hold her tighter, burrowing my face into her hair, letting her know that I’m here, that I’ll always be here if she’ll have me. I hate myself for hurting her, for breaking her more than she already was.
“When will the pain stop?” she whispers, her voice hoarse.
“I don’t know. I’ve asked myself that a thousand times in the last five years.” There’s a long moment of silence and then she clears her throat to speak again.
“Sometimes...” Her voice is thick with emotion and I feel her sadness, her pain, it pricks at my skin, it suffocates me. “I wish I never chose dare that night. I only chose it because I wanted to prove to you that I wasn’t a baby, that I could do one little dare. Now that I think about it, I see how stupid that was.”
I smile into her hair, thinking of how even back then she had me wrapped around her finger. We were joined at the hip, where she went, I went. We were strictly friends, but I hungered for more. I wanted it, and if she had stayed, if everything hadn’t fallen apart, she would’ve been mine a long time ago. I knew it. Hell, I would’ve made sure of it.
“I’ve blamed myself every day for telling my father. I’ve blamed myself, knowing that telling him ruined everything, and even now, I blame myself more actually after finding out that your father hid the truth from you, that he lied and placed the blame on me.”
There’s a vise-like grip on my heart and it’s squeezing so tightly that I know at any second it will burst, leaving me a bleeding massacred mess.
“I don’t fault you for being angry with me, for wanting to hurt me, for thinking I did this to you, to your family,” she whispers, and it’s so soft I almost don’t hear her speak the words.
God, she’s wrong. So fucking wrong. I’m at fault. What I did was wrong.
“None of what I did was okay, and no amount of words or apologies will take that back. I hate myself so much for hurting you, Ava, and I’ll never, never, forget it.”
“If I could… I would…”
A shrill scream pierces the night air, causing both Ava and I to shove up into a sitting position on the bed. What the hell? Another scream follows the first and before I realize it, I’m jumping off the bed and rushing for the bedroom door.
“What was that?” Ava whispers, following closely behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I press a finger to my lips. She nods her head, eyes wide, fear slicing through them. Turning, I pull the door open, then I step out into the hall. I can hear the sound of feet scuffling across the floor downstairs. What the fuck is going on?
“Here, give me the gun, Greg.” Laura’s voice wobbles. “You don’t want to hurt yourself or anyone else with that, do you?”
Gun? Greg? Ava pushes past me and starts down the hall, but I reach for her, my hand circling her wrist and pulling her back against my chest. She shifts in my arm, a protest on her lips when her father’s voice pierces the air.
“First you take my wife, then you take my daughter…” Greg slurs.
He’s drunk and he’s got a gun. That’s a deathly situation and one I’m not going to let Ava put herself in the middle of.
“I have to go to him. I can get him to calm down,” Ava whispers, a frantic look in her eyes.
I know she wants to help her father, but I refuse to let her put herself in that kind of danger.
“I didn’t take anything, and you’re supposed to be at the rehab facility. We can’t help you if you don’t let us,” my father says.
“Help?” Greg snorts. “You never wanted to help, it was me who helped you. Me, who gave you and your family a place to live, and you…” The pain, the hate it’s suffocating. “You stole my wife, you made me this way.”
Ava whimpers into my chest. I move us down the hall and closer to the landing that opens up into the foyer. Releasing Ava, I go to maneuver her behind me, but she catches me off guard and bolts for the landing, reaching it before I can stop her. My heart leaps into my throat when my eyes catch on the scene taking place in the foyer below us.
“Dad,” Ava croaks and starts down the steps.
Watching her walk away from me and toward her father somehow feels like the end. Once she reaches the second to last step, I spring into action.
“Sweettthearrrttt…” Greg slurs, his eyes are bloodshot, and I can smell the whiskey on his breath across the room.
The barrel of the gun catches in the light as he whirls it around, and somehow, all I can see is his finger on the trigger. Time stands still but also moves a million miles a minute. At the same time I reach for Ava, my hands grabbing onto her shirt pulling her into my chest and turning to shift her so she’s behind me, the blasting of a gunshot rings out through the air. I don’t even feel the bullet enter my back, lodging itself deep inside the skin.
All I feel is heat, searing, burning outward from the wound. My lungs deflate, like a balloon. I sag against Ava, barely keeping myself upright, my knees knock together as Laura and my father both lunge forward at the same time but in different directions.
My father tackles Greg while Laura throws her arms around me and Ava like she could somehow shield us with her tiny body.
“Oh my God, Vance is shot,” Ava yells. “Call 9-1-1!”
Staggering backward, I manage to sit down on the bottom step of the stairs, refusing to let go of Ava. Greg groans on the ground only a few feet away from us with my dad holding him down on the ground. Wetness coats my skin, my t-shirt soaking it up.
“Laura, you need to call an ambulance,” my dad orders, and for once, I hear fear in his voice. Letting go of Ava
and me, she runs into the kitchen, only to reappear moments later with the phone already pressed to her ear. A wave of dizziness washes over me and light-headedness starts to come.
“Hello…yes, someone is shot. My ex-husband broke into our house and he had a gun and my stepson was shot…” She’s talking so fast, I’m sure the person on the other line is having trouble understanding her.
Shot. I’ve been shot.
“My husband tackled… Yes... he took the gun from him…” Laura says, looking down at Greg and my father. Swinging her gaze to me, she continues, “Yes, he is conscious…but he looks really pale…and there is a lot of blood…” Laura’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. “He’s bleeding, there’s… Yes, hurry. Please…hurry.”
Ava sits next to me, her body pressed against mine, her hands pressing over the spot that hurts the most. Forcing myself to breathe, I let her sweet floral scent fill my nostrils. My eyes drift closed, and silence settles over me.
“Don’t die, Vance, please don’t die,” she whispers in my ear over and over again. I try and lift my hand, open my mouth to soothe her, but I can’t. It’s like my mouth is full of cotton, my limbs no longer working.
“Vance…” Ava calls out to me, but the inky darkness calls to me. It pulls me under with each labored breath that passes my lips. “Vance, please don’t go to sleep. Stay awake, stay with me.” The sadness in her voice makes me want to reach out to her, to tell her it’s all going to be okay, but is it? Is it all going to be okay? I don’t know.
The wetness against my back bathes my skin. Sirens sound in the distance inching closer to where we are but somehow farther away at the same time. Like the undertow of the ocean, I’m pulled under, sinking deeper, and deeper.
“Please, Vance,” Ava pleas. “I love you, you can’t die, you can’t.”
She loves me. I force my lips to turn up into a smile. She loves me. Her words are the last thing I hear before the heaviness of the dark becomes too much to fight.
If this is the end, than it was worth it.
At least it was her voice I heard last, her touch I felt last.
Darkness surrounds me for a long time, or at least it feels like it’s a long time. I’m floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. There’s a tightening in my chest, but it’s not pain. I don’t feel any pain and for some reason, I find that odd. I think I should feel pain, but I can’t remember why. My brain feels like it’s been thrown in a blender, a thick fog clouds my thoughts, making it hard to string together what happened.
The first thing I notice, other than the darkness, is a low, steady beeping sound somewhere close to me. I can hear my heartbeat, and not just in my ears, but outside my body.
It takes an enormous amount of effort to peel my eyes open, but when I do, I just want to close them again. There’s a light so bright it might as well be the sun shining down on me. My eyes strain to see, and I blink a couple hundred times.
“Ahhh,” I groan softly, so softly it’s more like a wheeze than an actual groan.
When I’m finally able to take in my surroundings, I quickly realize that I’m lying in a hospital bed. A familiar whimper meets my ears and my gaze swings in the direction of the noise. Across the room, a small body is curled up in the recliner. Ava.
Like looking into a kaleidoscope, a flurry of images flood my mind. Greg. The gun. Ava in danger. The gunshot. The heat, and pain. She loves me. She. Loves. Me. I should be worried about the fact that I was shot, but all my thoughts are consumed by her, by her words.
“Ava…” I call out to her, my throat raw, feeling like gritty sandpaper. She stirs, her green eyes blinking open ever so slowly. When she notices me awake, her eyes widen, and she jumps out of her chair almost tripping over her own feet.
“Vance, oh my God. You’re awake,” she says, her tiny hand clutching onto mine like I might disappear into thin air.
“No way you’re going to get rid of my ass that easily.”
Her pretty pink lips form into a frown. “You scared me. I thought you…” Her eyes fill with tears and I’ve never seen her so pale, so well… worried. “I thought you were going to die. The whole way to the hospital, you were out, and then when they took you into surgery.”
“Shhh…” I soothe, cupping her cheek. “I’m here, alive and breathing so no more crying babe.” There’s no way in hell I can bear to see her cry right now. Not when I already want to hold her in my arms, but can’t. I try and sit up, but there’s a piercing pain that lances across my back.
“Fuck,” I growl, gritting my teeth. I feel like my back is nailed to the bed and with every move, my flesh is being ripped out.
“Just, don’t move. They had to sew you up, and you don’t want to pull your stitches.”
“Where’s…” I start but pause, guilt flashes in Ava’s eyes.
“The police took my father away. My mom and your dad went to the police station after you got out of surgery and the doctor told us you will make a full recovery. The bullet missed all major organs, but you did lose a lot of blood, and that’s why you passed out.”
“I’m fine, I’m just glad it’s me in this bed and not you.” Seriously, I don’t think I could handle seeing her in pain like this.
“And I wish it was me instead of you,” she murmurs, her eyes cast down at the ugly hospital gown I’m in.
“Don’t say that, I more than deserved to get shot after the way I’ve treated you. Now we’re even.” I wink playfully.
Ava sighs deeply. “How did our lives become so complicated and messy?”
“I’m not sure, but I can promise you that I’ll try my best to make it as uncomplicated as I can from here on out. Gunshot, or no gunshot I still want you and now I know you want me too.”
Ava opens her mouth looking as if she’s about to disagree, but she’s interrupted with a light knocking on the door a second before it squeaks open a foot.
A middle-aged nurse with long blonde hair peeks inside, her lips turning up into a smile when she spots me in bed. “Hi, Mr. Preston. I’m glad to see you’re finally awake and talking.”
She pushes the door all the way open and steps inside. Grabbing the clipboard hanging on the wall on the way, she comes to step directly beside me.
“I’m glad as well,” I tell her. “Thanks for fixing me up.”
“That’s what we’re here for. How is your pain level right now?”
“Manageable.” The last thing I want to do is mention my pain. All I want to do is get out of here and home.
“Good, lean forward and let me take a look at your back.”
Gritting my teeth, I do as she asks. She leans over me, pulling up the back of my gown to check the wound. Her hands are gentle, and for the most part, I’m not in much more pain.
“Looks good. I’ll let the doctor know that you’re awake, and that you’re handling the pain well. You’ll need to eat something and keep it down, but if the doctor says so, you’ll probably be able to go home today.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, as she writes something down on the clipboard and heads back toward the door.
“Of course if you need anything before I return, then hit the call light button attached to your bed. I’ll be back in a little bit with something to eat.” She gives both of us a heartfelt smile before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind her.
As soon as she’s gone, I turn to Ava. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and I groan, my cock hardening at the image. Reaching for her, I tug her into my chest, and practically onto the bed.
“I might have been out of it, but I heard you say it.”
“Say what?” she asks coyly.
“Don’t play dumb. I know you love me. I heard you say it. You can’t deny it.”
“You didn’t hear anything, it must have been your imagination.”
Liar.
“I love you, Ava. I’m sorry for hurting you, for everything that happened, for our lives being as fucked up as they are. I’m sorry. You deserve
better than me, one hundred percent, but if you’ll have me. I’ll spend every day making it up to you.”
“We don’t have to talk about this right now,” Ava mumbles, and I grab her by the chin forcing her to look at me.
Bright green eyes pierce mine.
“Yes, we do. I could’ve died.” You could have died. I can’t even say those words out loud. “We’ve already wasted so much time. I don’t want to waste another minute. I want to spend every minute of every day going forward with you. I want to hold you in my arms when I fall asleep and wake you up with my tongue and fingers every morning.”
“What kind of drugs did they give you?” she asks, her eyes lighting up with amusement.
“They didn’t have to give me anything. I’m already on the best kind… the kind that makes your heart beat real fast, and butterflies flutter in your stomach.”
“I don’t think that’s a drug.”
“You’re right.” I lean into her face, so close I can press my lips to hers. “It’s not a drug, it’s called love, and it’s far more powerful than any drug I’ve ever heard of.”
“Is that right?” she whispers breathlessly.
“Yes, fuck yes…” I growl before pressing my lips to hers.
48
Ava
Henry and my mother make an appearance just as the doctors are discharging Vance. We decide to discuss what happened when we get home so as not to make a scene in the hospital. Vance, for the most part, remains quiet, his hand in mine gathering a few stares, those including our parents. They help me get him into the car, and I slide in next to him.
I try not to think about the conversation we are about to have, I don’t want to hear them tell me what’s going to happen to my dad. I know what he did was wrong, so wrong, and I realize how serious this is. Breaking and entering, threatening with a deadly weapon, shooting Vance…the crimes are stacking up. He’s going to end up going to prison for a long time and I know he isn’t innocent, but he’s still my dad and deep down, I know he wouldn’t have ever intentionally hurt Vance.
