by Mj Fields
Chapter Fifteen
It’s not you; it’s me. — A. Stockford
Luke
It’s hard as hell to watch her battle her demons. She’s stubborn as a mule, and until she makes the decision, she’s going to be about as easy to move as a mountain.
“Can I see the pictures of Reed?” I ask.
“You met him, right?” Ava asks, handing me the computer.
I nod. “Held him.” I look at the screen. “Cute baby, but Chance and Hope...”
“Don’t even,” she warns with a light laugh.
“Can’t help it. It’s true.”
“You may think differently when you see this,” she says as she hits a few keys. “There’s Chance two days after he was born.”
She shows me a picture of a tiny, little body that is hooked up to so many machines with wires coming in and out of every part of him. He’s a shade of yellow and covered in a fine, almost fur-like covering. He looks helpless. So fucking helpless. He is so fucking tiny. So...helpless.
My chest tightens, and my hands feel like they begin to tremble. I clench them to stop it from happening. Then I swallow back the lump forming in my throat as I force myself to look away.
Ava is looking at me, eyes misting, but a smile, albeit sad, is there.
“Still beautiful,” I tell her. I’m not talking about my son. I am talking about the woman who has become a mother. The mother of my child. The mother who fought for him, for his sister, for life, even after she lost the man she...loved.
“He was to me, too,” she says, looking back at the screen. “This is a couple of days later. Less blue, less yellow, and less weak.”
She hits a button and a slide show begins. Pictures, hundreds of them, slowly move in front of my eyes. My son, sweet little Hope, and Ava. Christ, what they went through was far worse than I could possibly imagine.
I see Hope in pictures here at home, and then Chance with the same timestamps, still in the hospital.
“He had to stay,” I acknowledge.
“He sure did,” she says then clears her throat. “He went through so much, Luke, but he fought.”
I point at the screen where Lucas is holding him, face full of stubble, and his eyes look like every one of my brothers, my team, when we hadn’t slept in a week. “Looks like he had a lot of people on his side.”
Tessa, Logan, Ashley, Lucas, Brody, Emma, Maddox, Harper, London, Lexington, even Liam were all there with her, fighting for him. They spent months with him.
For a moment, I am jealous, angry they were given an opportunity I wasn’t.
Needing a break, I stand up then walk with my cane to the only place that is an escape for her—the balcony.
I look at the skyline across the river, taking in a landscape I have never been fond of. I still don’t like it much. It’s not as safe here as home, yet she stays. Then I look down and see the spot where T was killed, the man who was my enemy and who is now forever bound to Ava, my son, and me. I know why she stays. For him. For the kids. It’s a choice to her, and she is choosing to keep away from the family, to hide a dead man’s lies.
Anger is no longer simmering. It’s boiling.
This balcony is not a far enough escape from her. She is a damn smart woman, but her emotions are overrunning logic, and not just a little bit. I want to shake her, tell her she’s wrong, tell her that my son needs a father, that both kids need a family, and not to be locked up in a Brooklyn apartment that has become a fortress for fraudulence. I want to tell her how much I resent Thomas for putting her in this position, that it’s undeniably wrong, yet she denies it to herself.
Did I lie to her? Sure did. But I was also lying to myself. I was wrong to fuck Ava, the girl I protected and served as she grew up. That night, though...God, I needed her. And when she said no strings, I believed her. Or did I?
Fuck!
No strings?
How stupid was I? With her, the fucking strings were always there. I always knew deep down I would never be able to cut them, not even if I tried. And when I did cut them, I cut myself. Then I sent her directly into the arms of a man who lied to her, deceived her, all in the name of love. Just like I did, but in a much different way.
Well, fuck. Is a lie really a lie? I mean, does one lie hold more weight than another? Did I wreck her only to have him ruin her?
I hear Chance cry and look at the glass door.
I think to myself, Does it really even matter? as I look at my boy in his mother’s arms.
Something amazing came from the wreckage and ruins. Something bigger than love and lies.
Life.
I just have to show her that there is life everywhere she looks, and not death.
She is trying. I see it. I feel it. I know it. But she is resistant, too.
How will I get her to see what I see? To see that all those people she is avoiding love her? Hell, they love me, too, and I just allowed that to sink in.
As the world is round, I do love those people even more now after seeing them with my boy.
My boy.
My son.
My son with Ava.
Can they be all consuming? Hell yes. So can she. So can they. So can pain if you allow it.
I won’t allow it.
I turn and look over the balcony, and then down to where T died.
“I wish you were alive so I could kick your ass,” I say out loud, praying that God will pass along the message.
Ava made dinner. Well, she made breakfast for dinner. Sausage gravy on biscuits. I ate and played with Chance while she gave Hope a bath. No words were spoken about my need to walk away. There was no need for words.
What happens when you mix words with confused emotions? Ninety-nine percent of the time, nothing good.
When she comes out with Hope in her little pink, footed pajamas, I look up at her.
“Your turn, little guy,” she says, and Chance beams at her. He fucking beams.
“Switch with me?” I ask, pushing myself up to stand.
She tilts her head, looking confused.
“What?”
“You sure?” she asks.
“Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.” I hold my hands out and take Hope. Then Ava bends down and grabs Chance before taking him to his bath.
Hope is smiling at me, and I am smiling back as she sits on my lap. She has T’s coloring and Ava’s eyes—expressive, showy, innocent.
“Hi.”
She smiles bigger as she tries to pull herself up, gripping my shirt as she looks up at me like she needs to say something.
“Go ahead. It’s just me and you; your secret is safe.” I want to know what she is thinking. She’s a baby; is she really thinking anything?
Her tiny, little pale eyebrows furrow like she’s thinking.
“I promise.”
Two words meaning so much bigger than their length.
Those two words, I do not toss around. They are my word.
Looking at her, little Ava, I make her a promise, and I damn well will keep it.
“I promise,” I whisper again, bending down to kiss her head.
I bring her closer to my face, and she grabs on, all claws. Then she attacks my chin, and I can’t help laughing.
Her deep thought wasn’t so damn deep, after all. She just wanted something to chew on. Along with those two words, I let her have that, too.
“You already got me wrapped. Teach me your ways.” I laugh as she gnaws harder.
I sit there for what seems like an hour as she chews on my chin. Then Ava walks out with Chance in little footies, just like his sister’s, and giggles.
Hope looks toward her voice, giving my face a break.
“She’s something,” I joke.
Ava looks at me like she is shocked, or confused, or hell, I don’t know, but I know the look. She needs more information, so I give it to her.
“She’s like you,” I explain as I look down at Hope, lifting my pinky finger. “She’s got me wrapped.”
&nbs
p; At that, Ava loudly laughs. “Pft. Yeah, just like me.”
“You had me wrapped from the moment you told me I should pick you to be on my team every damn time.” I laugh.
I see her stiffen, signs of retreat in her eyes. Maybe even anger and regret.
“We were friends, Ava. Let’s go back to that time.”
She shakes her head. “I would if I could, but things changed.”
I think of a way to lighten the darkened atmosphere. What would the old Ava do, I think, to light up the darkness?
“Well, we have even teams here. You wanna play a game?”
She looks at me like I grew two heads. Hell, maybe I have. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. All I know is I have to do something.
“Boys against girls?” she asks, still not lightening up.
“No way. I’ve got this one.”
“Luke...”
“No, I insist.”
“They can’t play games; they’re too little.”
“Maybe not today,” I agree, “but I’ll pick her every time.”
Ava and I look at each other for a few seconds, and then she nods, turns, and walks toward the kitchen. She grabs one of her shakes out of the fridge then sits on the closest bar stool with her back to me as she drinks it while holding our son.
Hope is content on my lap, and I have never felt more relaxed in my life. Then I hear my phone.
Ava looks back at me with a shocked expression before she grabs the bag of rice with my phone in it. She brings it to me and takes Hope.
I see the missed call as I fish out the phone and know it’s Raider. He was the best intel officer I ever knew, until he retired and disappeared for many years.
“I have to take this,” I tell her, not wanting to leave because I don’t know what I will walk back to.
This is what I have avoided all my adult life. I work much better knowing what I am facing. With her...Hell, with me and my emotions and this fucking dilemma we are facing, there is no clear cut answers.
I thought sitting back for a few days and observing her would give me some insight to what I am facing. I never expected to feel what I feel for Chance, or his sister. Add Ava to that, and I am a man unprepared. And being unprepared makes me reactive. Reactive was never a problem when facing an enemy or a threat; I used it to my advantage. However, when my target, my enemy, my threat is Ava Links...my reactions, my emotions, and even the mission changes in the blink of an eye.
I sigh as I close the elevator and shake the excess rice off my phone before calling Raider back.
“Yo,” he answers.
“What do you have for me?”
I contacted him to find out who the witnesses are to the accident. Someone got out of a vehicle and ran toward the scene. Two someones were conversing right after the accident.
“2015 Chevy Suburban.”
“That it?” I ask
“It’s black.”
I roll my eyes. “No shit.”
He laughs. “Female driver is my guess. In the video, I think she says, ‘What have you done?’”
I sigh. “Thought so, too.” Meaning the female driver who came upon the scene saw the man who hit T. By what I saw in the video, it appeared they knew each other.
“Gonna be like finding a needle in a stack of needles.”
“Needs to be done.”
“Miss A?”
“What?” I gasp, and he laughs.
“The boys think—”
“This has nothing to do with the boys, Raider. This was supposed to be you and me.”
“One of our own appears from the depths of hell for the first time in months and we’re all in.”
“Don’t need all in.”
“Right.” He chuckles.
“I’m fucking serious.”
“Look, Birdman, it doesn’t matter what you ask for. What is, is.”
I am half a second from snapping when a realization strikes me. I’m acting like Ava—pushing away those who have my back regardless.
It still fucking sucks, but I force myself to say, “Thanks.”
“Anytime, man,” he says on a laugh.
“Chat later,” I tell him.
“Like it or not.”
“Like it,” I admit, then hang up before shit gets too deep.
A 2015 Chevy Suburban. I see hundreds of those pass by every day. I looked at the footage at least twenty times, and nothing else is caught. Again I remind myself, this isn’t going to be easy.
Fuck.
Heading back up to the apartment, I find Ava in the nursery, sitting in a rocking chair and holding them both as she looks out the window, deep in thought.
“Can I hold him?” I ask as I walk over.
Her eyes are blank, but she nods.
I take him, sit down in the other rocking chair, and Chance squirms until he seems to find the place he wants to be in, then nuzzles into my neck.
I always wondered how the hell people could sit still for hours and do nothing. It seemed like a waste of time. This is no waste.
I close my eyes, bow my head so my nose is on his head, inhale the sweetest scent in the world, and I rock.
After a very long time, Ava gets up and puts a sleeping Hope in her crib. Without a word or a look of concern, she then leaves the room.
I’m alone with Chance, and he’s asleep in arms. My father was never allowed this opportunity. I’m a lucky man.
I have outgrown my shadow, but it doesn’t bring me joy. It brings me realization.
Chapter Sixteen
It’s just a phase. — R. Yatsko
Ava
I have done the dishes, picked up the toys from off the floor, and I should be sleeping, but I’m not, because he is with Chance.
I walk out onto the balcony and look up. “You can’t imagine what this is like, T, and I can’t imagine what it’s like for you to watch from the clouds, but my hands are tied. They are tied by the man who loved me like no other, a man I love and promise to love forever. I won’t break that promise, but I am so angry.
“One second it’s at him for being here, and another second it’s at you for lying to me. How could you do that, T? I mean, I know why, but really why? Did you think this through? Did you think Luke would just walk away?” I feel myself getting angry.
“I’m so mad at you for loving me, and me for loving you. You’d be alive, T!” I yell down at the spot where he died. “You’d be alive, and wouldn’t that be the same as now? You said you loved me. You should have stayed loving me from a distance. You should have!”
I turn and slide down the cold brick wall, sitting on top of the snow. “All those things you said were said in vain, T. It was said in a lie. A lie I am stuck in, and a lie they—our...my children. Yes, mine...You’re gone. You’re gone, and the three of us are here, and he’s rocking his son in a chair that was never intended for him.”
The tears start, and I don’t give a damn. I let anger, pain, betrayal, and more anger roll out of me until I am exhausted. So fucking exhausted.
“What do I do now, T? What do I do? Hurt you, hurt them, hurt him? No, you won’t hurt; you’re dead. He won’t hurt, because he won’t leave it alone. So, for now, I will hurt. I will hurt and cry, and lose again. Then, when they get older, they will hurt, and I will hurt more.”
“You don’t get to hurt.”
I look up at Luke’s voice and see his pained expression.
“Just go back inside,” I tell him, slapping away my tears. How could he say that? Look at what I am facing.
“No.”
“Luke, this is none of your concern. I am none of your concern. I’m a grown-ass woman, sleeping in the bed I made. I’m not a little girl who needs saving. So, just go.”
“No.”
“I am trying here. I am. And you”—I push myself up and walk to the door—“you’ll win. You’re Luke Lane; you always win. You’ve just got to give me a little time.”
“How will it be a win if I’m hurting one of my team
members?”
Fuck him and his team! Fuck me for being angry at him. But fuck him harder.
God, this is insane. So insane.
“No man left behind—”
“Just shut up!” I turn toward him. “Just shut up about all of this! Jesus Christ, Luke, I am doing the best I can, and you—”
“You’re thinking all wrong—”
“Done it for years. Leave it alone.” With that, I stomp into the bathroom and slam the door behind me.
“Be nice, Ava,” I mock to myself. “Do the right thing, Ava. Stick up for those who can’t do it for themselves, Ava. You are better than that, Ava.” I grab the facial cleanser and look in the mirror. “And who the hell taught you that? Not your fucking mother!”
The door opens, and he walks in. “That’s enough, Ava.”
“Get out of here! Jesus, Luke!” I want him to just leave me alone. He’s not making things any better.
“So you can fill your head full of more shit?”
“I’m fucking serious!”
“I’m much more serious!” he yells back. “None of this shit is your fault, so stop the self-defamation—”
“Who do you think you are?” I point at the door. “I lied to you! Be pissed about that and walk away!”
“It’s not a goddamned lie when I never asked. When I figured it out, I didn’t say shit until I was ready. So, enough, Ava. All that shit you said out there—blaming yourself, not deserving peace and happiness—I can say the same shit about me. Hell, I have. But it’s a fucking lie.” He grabs both sides of my face. “If you lie in shit, I’m lying next to you. Do you—”
I kiss him. Yes, I kiss him. I will give him what he wants.
He opens his mouth and covers mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth. I open further, allowing him to control the kiss until I need to take control.
“Jesus, Ava,” he groans, and then I kiss him again. Why? I have no idea, but it shuts him up, and it makes me feel something other than what I have been feeling.
He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me closer. The way his hungry mouth takes my lips is so familiar. The way his other hand almost cups me makes me insane with need, and I can’t hold back the cry that leaves my mouth.
