I pulled his arm away so I could turn to face her.
My mom hugged me. “This is Avery’s dad,” I said.
“Oh,” I heard her say. She sounded like she was probably looking up at him.
Suddenly I was aware that Avery had come back and she was standing near us.
“Thank you for coming, judge Holbrook but Ben’s gone and nothing really happened. So, I guess we didn’t really need help. I’m sorry you came all this way,” Avery offered.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” my mom said.
“Mom,” I grumbled.
“Olivia? What’s happening?” She asked.
“Avery’s in trouble,” I said. “One of our teachers… He touched her,” I said.
“Hey, I’m not in trouble!” Avery yelled but no one else paid attention to her.
I was keenly aware of Mr. Lockhart standing near me.
“This just isn’t good,” I said quietly. “There’s no right way.” I was talking to Avery but mostly myself.
“Oh no,” my mother interrupted. “There is a right way. There’s always a right way.”
I felt her move and pull a phone from her pocket.
Next thing I knew I was standing all alone.
I felt Mr. Lockhart move up behind me, his arm coming around to hold me gently about my collar bone and steady me.
“Hi, I’m still here,” Avery said. “Does anyone maybe want to ask me what’s going on or what happened?” She looked to all three of us in turn. “No?”
“Of course,” I said.
Her father was holding me. I felt so safe with him it was almost strange.
Avery’s eyes watered but she smiled. It was bitter. Hard. Her lips quivered and she made a sound like the feelings were finally reaching her. “I can’t even fucking deal with any of this.”
She turned- wavering on coming or going. Like standing on an invisible cliff, she looked down but couldn’t move.
“Hey,” I said, loudly, pulling Avery’s dad’s arm to fall so that I could go to her. I ran up behind her and grabbed her so that she could breathe. I didn’t want her to fall. I put my arm around her and grabbed her hand. “I’m right here,” I said quietly.
It wasn’t the perfect situation. Our parents were here. It was strange.
“I’m right here,” I reminded, holding her.
She fought me, weakly trying to fight off my arms. “No.” I spun her so I could see her face. She wasn’t here. One big tear ran down her cheek. “Why do you love me? You shouldn’t.” She whispered.
“So many reasons,” I said, trying to get her to see me. “Look at me,” I said, brushing her face with my thumbs and bracing her to stop fighting me. “So many reasons.”
God, I needed her to know.
I felt her slip and I tried to catch her but we both fell down and landed to sit in the middle of the street. I just wasn’t strong enough to hold her up. I angled us at least and her body fell back onto mine.
“Avery,” I said, pulling her to see me.
She stared ahead and flinched. “Yeah.”
“I love you,” I said, smiling just a bit, my breath leaving me. “You know that, right?” I asked. I didn’t want her going away from me. I didn’t want her confused.
“Yeah,” she said again.
I felt a hand on my arm and back. It was Avery’s dad, trying to help us up. We both stumbled a little because Avery was almost dead weight. When she did move, it was slow and wrong. She fell into her father’s body and he caught her, pulling her into an all-encompassing hug.
She sobbed into his shirt, her body convulsing and breaking down. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t…”
“I know. It’s okay,” he told her. He was holding her and walking her toward the side of the street where my car was.
I stood there pretty hopeless. She looked so sweet, all safe in his arms but I knew she had to be mad at him, silently angry, even though she felt safe.
Off in the distance, I could see my mom on her phone. She looked like she’d come straight from bed. Like I’d woken her from her midday Sunday sleep.
I covered my face with my hand and laughed bitterly, tears chasing me.
This was life now I guess.
There was no going back or changing things. I’d fucked things up real good. For everyone.
Mostly, I just worried about Avery. I knew she’d rather her dad soothe her than me.
“What was his name?” I heard my mom say, her voice strong. It was only then I knew she must not have seen him.
“Benjamin Bradford,” I said, worried.
“What?” She scoffed. Her eyes met mine briefly with the perfect mix of denial and confusion.
“Yes.” I confirmed sort of breathless and bitter. “Him,” I said, knowing.
He was probably the only person I constantly talked about from school. I was always talking about him. It was sick now to know. I had no friends. Just a hidden predator. My mom had met him more than once. My mom had liked him before today… She had approved of him.
I stood in the road with my arms folded.
Turning back, I sized up Ben’s house and Ben’s world.
I’d never been here but Avery had.
I thought of her journal and how sick that was.
That could’ve been me.
I could drown like that in someone, in him. I knew I could.
Avery would never believe me though if I told her. She’s too self-loathing to believe it. She ties everything into that, unlike me.
“Olivia.” It was Mr. Lockhart. He stepped over. I could see the wet spot on his shirt where Avery’s face had been. “She asked for you. I put her in your car.”
“Okay,” I said, shaken.
I felt like everyone was expecting me to know what to do.
When I found out before all I wanted to do was crumble alone. But now we were here and we’d stopped it somehow. What for?
I dunno…
Avery was broken. Ben was gone. Avery’s dad was upset. My mom was just confused and going through motions.
I made a mess. That’s all that had happened.
The only saving grace of this whole situation was the knowledge that, however accidental, I had outed Ben as a creep.
I didn’t want there to be any chance of Avery ever falling into his clutches again.
It was probably selfish but I didn’t care.
I walked back to the car, seeing her there in the passenger seat all balled up.
When I got to the door I pulled it open.
“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it as much as I could.
She didn’t answer, just unraveled and reached out, pulling me in, kissing me. It wasn’t sexual. It was a desperate attempt to find her way back to me.
“Hey,” I said, running my hand down her neck. “I’m here,” I said, looking down on her and holding her face. “Look at me,” I said. I wasn’t sure what was happening but she kept disappearing on me, kept drifting. “Avery,” I said.
“Take me home.” Fingers, fisting fabric. She was clinging to my shirt.
“Okay,” I said. “Okay.”
I pulled her hands to let me go and felt my strength waning as I pulled myself away from her.
“Not my house. Yours,” she muttered.
“Okay,” I said, making sure she was in and shutting the door.
Once outside I had to brace myself. Despite everything falling into place, the world really did seem to spin.
“Honey?” My mom must’ve seen me get dizzy.
“I’m taking her to the house,” I said, finding strength. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. The way my mom looked at me I knew she was worried. “I’m sorry,” I said, aggression taking over. “I found out today. And her dad, he was going to do something. Ben raped her mom. More than once. I didn’t know.”
My mom came toward me and I hugged her loosely.
“We’ll take care of this,” she said. “Just go home.” Her arms on me were tight.
“Okay,�
� I said. Mostly I felt myself having trouble getting air.
I wondered how much I’d actually breathed today. Every time I tried to talk my throat choked me to stop.
She pushed me to leave and I let her, feeling thankful.
I got into the driver’s seat and started the car up, moving it away.
In the rearview I could see my mom walking to talk with Avery’s dad and I knew it was strange but I didn’t have time to play peacekeeper or friend maker. I would have wanted to but Avery was broken and I didn’t have time.
I drove the car down the road, barely stopping at the stop signs as I made my way to the house.
Avery was so quiet it terrified me.
She didn’t talk the whole time.
I couldn't stop crying and I just wanted to scream. I kept quiet though, just let the tears fall and tried my best to see through them.
When we got to my house I pulled up to the front porch and just parked.
I hurried my way out of the car and ran around to help Avery out.
“Come on,” I said. I didn’t know what to do.
I’d never been in this situation before. I didn’t know what she wanted, what she was feeling, or what she thought.
I held my arms out to help her walk. She let me support her all the way in and up to my room. When we got to the bed, she fell out of my arms and onto it, curling into my bedding, hugging a pillow. She was still crying. That was breaking me more than anything else. That and the thought she might soon hate me for what I’d done, given time.
I pulled off her shoes and then took my own off, getting in the bed beside her. “Hey,” I tried.
“Why did I let him do it?” She asked.
“Oh, baby, I dunno,” I whined. Why does anyone let anyone treat them anyway? “You were sad and no one else was there. It makes sense,” I said. “It’s not right. I don’t like it. But it makes sense.”
“No, it doesn’t. I’m sick,” she cried.
“Baby, come ‘ere,” I begged, sneaking myself in with her and hoping she’d lay with me. All my previous fears were overshadowed by the sad nature of her own line of questioning. Avery was so deserving of love and it killed me to hear her asking these things.
She wrapped her body around mine, clinging. I’d never seen her this needy. It was what had been under all that calm.
“You’re not sick,” I said, holding her and feeling her on me. “You were sad, baby. You were sad and no one noticed, no one cared.” It was the ugliest thing to know, the ugliest thing to have to say. “But I’m here now. And I see you. And I care and I know, okay?” I felt myself trying to hold it together. “I can’t go back and save you but I wish I could,” my voice choked. “But I’m here now and you’re not alone anymore. You won’t ever have to be alone again ‘cause I’m here.”
She was breathing through her mouth, swallowing air and close to hyperventilating.
I pulled her lips to mine and forced her to kiss me. “Breathe,” I said, kissing her cheek in a few places before returning to her lips and kissing them again, slowing her down.
“Breathe with me,” I said, practicing on how to breathe.
“I’m here,” I reminded. “No one’s gonna touch you,” I whispered, holding her into me and hoping she’d calm. “Just breathe...”
Her eyes flickered open and she finally looked at me, trying to do as I was telling her. A hiccup slipped from her and she blinked. “Water, can I have water?”
“Of course,” I said, moving away and leaving her.
I hated to leave.
I had water downstairs but I had to go away from her to get it and that terrified me.
I moved quickly, running down the steps and racing to the fridge. Luckily I had cold bottles. I took one out and ran back up, my thighs burning from the memories of all that recent sex.
When I got back in I shut the door softly.
It was a relief to see she hadn’t moved.
I walked to the side of the bed and got down on my knees on the floor, unscrewing the bottle and holding it close to her lips.
“Here,” I said, waiting for her.
She took it from me, her hand shaking but she managed to put it to her lips and drink without spilling much. When she was done she handed it back to me. “Thanks.”
She sniffed, putting her sleeve up to her eyes and wiping. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess.”
“No,” I said, pushing myself up on my knees and petting her face. “You have nothing to be sorry about,” I said, looking down on her. “None of this was your fault and you’re not a mess, you’ve had a lot to deal with and none of it was your fault.”
“Yeah, I just don’t break down. I saw Ben and I saw my dad and I knew he was going to kill him or almost anyway. I didn’t care if he hit me as long as I stopped him. I don’t know. These are all the things I’ve never told anyone because when you let them out things change and people look at you differently.”
“I’m not looking at you differently,” I said, addicted to her. “Nothing has changed with us from this morning to now. Believe me. If anything I feel like murdering Ben a lot more and marrying you A LOT more and that’s about it. What do you think I’m thinking?” I asked.
“I don’t mean you really. You know me. I was scared for you to read that journal because it’s the closest thing I’ve ever written to detailed about what happened with Ben. I was afraid that you might think I was pathetic for staying, even though I know you wouldn’t logically. But fear doesn’t work on logic, does it?”
“I’m not even capable of thinking of you that way Avery…” Pathetic? That was her fear?
I didn’t even know what to think about that.
No one pathetic could persevere through a thing like actual torture.
“You were tortured. You allowed that. You hated yourself that much. For no reason,” I choked. “That’s not pathetic. That’s tragic.” I waited a second to try to explain. “I’m just mad. I’m mad that anyone could do that to you. I’m mad that anyone could make you feel so personless, so voiceless, so hollow…”
“Sometimes I go back in my head,” she said. “That’s why I got scared when you wanted me to use you. I’m afraid of doing things that he did. Sometimes I think about it until I have to do something, keep going.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She struggled to focus on me. “When I bounce from thing to thing I’m not thinking. Sorry, those ideas weren’t really related. I’m afraid of crossing the line between what I want to do with you and what is bad, like the things he did to me and I know it’s not the same because we’re not even the same but it’s a reaction I get. I want to toss you around and get a little rough with you and I like that but I don’t ever want to hurt you for real.”
“You’ve never hurt me,” I repeated. I felt like I’d actually said that to her a lot. Of all the things we’d done she’d never even come close. “And if I ever scare you, or you ever scare yourself, just tell me.” I wasn’t sure how this came back around again to sex but it always seemed to. “I did things with Nat and I liked them Avery. I think they were probably bad like you’re saying but I can’t know. All I do know is that you’ve never even come close to hurting me. In that way, I feel like you really shouldn’t be scared but I don’t know what it is you think you could do to me and that’s confusing.”
She shook her head over and over. “It’s not bad like I’m saying but I hear you. I mean. I really hope it isn’t. And it’s just obsessive fear of hurting you. It’s dumb. I’m okay most of the time and I’m better now.”
“Maybe I just can’t understand,” I said. “All I know is, I don’t think less of you for what happened with Ben. I could never.”
She took the water bottle again and tipped it back for another drink. “I love you.”
“Okay,” I laughed awkwardly. We had so many problems it was kind of insane. “What is it you want to do to me?” I asked, curious now. I liked how close my face was to hers. The way she was talking was m
aking me curious. “What would be bad? With me? Do you have like, dark, fantasies you’re keeping from me?” It made me smile to think about. She was so sweet with me every time, I couldn’t imagine it really.
“My fantasies aren’t bad. I’ve come to that conclusion,” she said. “They were hard to separate from what I was afraid of and what happened with Ben for a while but the other night when you asked me to do the stuff with the feather over again I felt so much more comfortable.”
She reached out to touch me, her hand landing on my shoulder. “I want to get rough with you. Sometimes I think about just attacking you, not letting you have any time to react or move and putting my hand over your mouth, smothering your sounds and feeling them on my hand. There’s other stuff but I don’t really feel ready.”
“Okay, well, that made me feel hot just now so believe me when I say, if you did that I’d most likely like it. To me that doesn’t sound bad. Not with you.”
She’d just described the exact thing I wanted from her back at the lodge that first time I asked her for sex.
“That’s what I wanted from you when I was frustrated at the lodge. I just felt horrible asking. I didn’t want you to feel like Nat. I didn’t want you to feel used. I almost feel like you’ve decided a lot of things are bad when they’re not. And who knows why that is but I guess we feel differently… I dunno.”
“I guess I just associated them with the wrong things,” she said. “It wasn’t until I met you that I didn’t feel that way about them. Meeting you made me want to believe I was a good person.”
“Avery… Jesus Christ… You make me sound like I’m some fucking saint or something like you want to bow down to me and kiss my feet. I fucking hate that.”
“No,” she half smiled. “That’s not what I’m saying. It wasn’t that you were a saint or that I want to worship you. It was that I finally loved someone enough to be able to see that I might not be as horrible as I felt. You were the only one who could have done that. I know because there’s no one quite fucked up in the ways that we are.”
“I swear, you are such a man sometimes,” I teased. That was such a man thing to say, such a trope.
YOU MAKE ME WANT TO BE A BETTER MAN.
I could just hear her saying it and it made me want to attack her and tease her for all eternity. It just wasn’t right.
Paper Dolls [Book Two] Page 30
