I rush up the stairs and find the correct apartment. I couldn’t carry everything and keep an eye on my car to make sure nothing is stolen. Barry answers the door to loud cartoons and a smoke filled apartment. “Hey Ms. Avery. You showed up.”
I smile despite the circumstances. “You bet I did. Can you get some help and we’ll carry the stuff in?” He rounds up all hands in the apartment— all kids. None of the adults offer their help. We make quick work and carry the bags upstairs.
“Thanks.” He says in wonder and slight embarrassment.
“Hey. My pleasure. We all need help from our friends sometimes. Do you have a pen and paper?” He nods. “Go get it. I’m gonna give you my number in case you need me.” He disappears down the hall and I jump when I hear gunshots a few blocks over. Fuck, this was a bad idea. Barry takes longer than I’m comfortable with and my phone is vibrating in my purse. As he returns, I rattle my number and give him a quick hug goodbye. I reach the last step and grab my phone to answer and calm Caden.
That doesn’t happen.
I don’t get to raise the phone to my ear before I’m shoved, groped, tugged and held hostage. My purse is ripped from my arm, by body pushed forward and I lose my balance. As my chin bounces off the sidewalk, I watch the culprits take off down the street and the force of my body slamming into the cement sends a shooting pain through my arm and I lose the grip on my phone as I watch it sail in the air and disappear down the drain culvert.
I’m dizzy and vulnerable sprawled on the ground but I can’t pick myself up. “Miss Avery!” Barry is at my side. “You okay?”
I go to answer him and see the blood. All of it pooling under my face. I don’t answer. I can’t because I’m forced into the blackness.
Chapter Twenty
She should’ve been here twenty minutes ago. Her and her damn lost and found hero complex. I check her location on my phone and she hasn’t moved. For fifteen minutes.
“We ready?” Mason calls. He’s ready to leave for the gym but my headspace is filled with Avery.
“Go. I’ll meet you in a few.” I brush past him.
“You okay?” I nod and he takes me at my word. This is when secrets suck. I do the next best thing and call her dad.
“Hello.”
I know I’m programmed in his caller ID, so I don’t have time for his intimidation games. Not now. “Avery is late.” I blurt.
“Son, you better rephrase that or I’ll be forced to find you and kill you.” Shit.
“No, Sir. I meant to say she was hell bent to play Debbie Do-Gooder and take some of the underprivileged kids she works with clothes, toys, and paints. It isn’t in the best area and I’ve tracked her. She hasn’t moved in fifteen minutes. My calls go to voicemail.”
“Send me the location.” He hangs up. I’m sure in route to his car. I hope he puts the fear of God into her when he finds her.
When . . . I can’t say if. I shoot him the location her phone is pinging . . . and I’m sure his tracker for her car is giving him the same location . . . or I hope it is. I shoot Mason a text to cover for me— I’m gonna miss this practice. I’m gonna wear a hole in the floor with the pacing and I stop myself, multiple times, from calling her dad back.
I answer the call before it finishes ringing. “Did you find her?”
“Calm down. Yes. We’re heading to Wesley. She isn’t critical so I don’t need to take her to Via.” I suck in a breath waiting for him to continue. “She was mugged and when they grabbed her purse she dropped her phone into the drain.” I’m silent— too many unsavory scenarios playing in my mind.
She was fucking mugged.
She was alone.
“I’ve told her I’m gonna hire armed guards if she keeps insisting she’s gonna continue doing this.” He chuckles.
It isn’t the least bit funny. “I’m locking her in the basement. Shackles. The whole nine yards.” I’m spitting fire.
“My daughter and shackles shouldn’t ever be mentioned in the same breath.” He clicks end and I’m grabbing my keys and shooting a group text.
ME: Avery was mugged. On my way to Wesley. Her dad said she would be fine.
Send.
And a barrage of chimes.
Shortstop: Keep me updated. Love.
DD: Shit. We avenging this?
Does he think we’re fucking Clark Kent wannabes?
Breck: Want me to come?
ME: No. To both. Take your cape off DD.
Mace: I’ll head over in a bit.
Brody: Fuck. This is why women should be in the kitchen.
LEE LEE: Fuck you. I’m in your kitchen— drinking your beer. Why did her dad call you and not me?
Shortstop: Lee Lee that’s what you’re worried about? Go breastfeed or something.
I don’t respond— these fuckers drive me to insanity. Several times an hour. I blame my parents for being friends with their parents. I could have found nice, normal friends to hang with . . . instead I got this crew. And I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Except in this moment.
I rush into the Emergency Room and turn frantic when nobody will help me.
You aren’t family.
Have a seat and we will check.
Sir, please don’t curse at me.
I can’t bend the rules so stop flashing your dimples.
I’ve heard them all . . . twice. I wonder if I shout her name her father will hear me. Worth a shot. “AVERY!” Every head snaps to focus on me— I’m channeling my inner Rocky when he shouts for Adrienne. It works. Brian Michaels comes through the doors shaking his head.
“He’s with us.” The nurse coming to evict my ass halts with his claiming.
“I’m sorry.” She smirks. I’ll let that pass.
“Come back. She’s gonna have a few stitches in her chin and a splint for her shoulder. I’m bringing her home with us because she has a concussion and needs to be monitored.” His hand shoots up halting my protest. “You’re more than welcome to cramp our style. I’ve already heard it from my wayward daughter.” I breathe easy— if she’s giving him hell, she’ll be fine.
I’ll conjure my excuses later— I need to see her first. Touch her. Smell her. Make sure she’s real. Her dad stops outside a curtain and doesn’t move to come in so I nod at his graciousness to give us some time. I move the fabric aside and stare. Take every inch of her in, scanning for any injuries they missed. Her hair is disheveled, blood stains her neck and cheek— her chin is coated in iodine and there’s a nurse assisting a doctor with sutures. Her eyes swing to mine and the tears are instant.
I’m at her side, the fear and anger I felt moments earlier vanish. She needs me and I’m here. That’s what matters. We are both here. “Shhh. Calm down, Picasso.”
“I was so scared.” I bite my tongue at her admission. Had she done what she told me and waited for me this wouldn’t have happened. I’ll have all the time to scold her later. For now, she needs me to calm her. Hold her. Soothe her. All of it is my job— my desire— my honor.
Protect her— I failed this time.
Love her— for all eternity.
Show her— always.
“I messed up.” She sighs into my arms. The doctor is waiting for her meltdown to blow over.
“We all do. You’re okay. That’s what matters.” I lay down and bring her to follow, allowing them to finish the stitches without having to inject more medicine to keep her numb. “I’m here.”
She sighs and closes her eyes. A gentle snore escapes after a few minutes and I press my lips to her forehead. “We gave her some pain meds.” The nurse explains the slumber that took her. “Low dose with the concussion. We’ve explained to her dad, she can have half a pill every six hours for forty-eight hours. A lot of rest. After that if things remain stable with her concussion, she can up the dose to one every four hours if needed. Her shoulder is bruised and will take a few weeks to heal. Her chin needs to stay dry for seventy-two hours and after that, don’t submerge in water.” She finishes cleaning the
mess. “We couldn’t do dissolvable because she reacts to them according to her chart.” I smile thinking back to fifth grade. She was trying to rescue a cat and fell from a tree . . . split her knee good. Because of the stitches and getting an infection, it ballooned to three times the normal size. The nurse smiles and mutters, “young love is beautiful.”
I nod. “Young or old. Our love is beautiful.”
“I see that.” She winks. “We’re gonna keep her here for a few hours to monitor.” She leaves the room and Brian pokes his head in.
“Abigail is almost here. She’ll kick you out for her baby.” Good luck.
“Okay.” He tries to cover his smile with his hand . . . and does a piss poor job.
“I’ll ask them to bring in another chair.” He disappears and I pull my phone to send a group text.
ME: She’s fine. Concussion. Busted chin. Bruised shoulder. She’s going to her parents for a few days and I’ll probably stay at my parents in case they need help.
I shut my phone down. Plausible excuse . . . it isn’t my best but the girl in my arms takes precedence.
The three days we spent back home wasn’t quiet. Wasn’t restful. Avery bitched non-stop. She can’t paint or draw with her sling. She can’t chew without her chin hurting. My tongue is sawed in half from biting it so much . . . but a guilt trip isn’t what she needed. Besides, our parents did enough hammering the issue home.
I pull into her driveway and everyone meets us. The girls are fussing, the boys brooding. Payback can’t happen because we don’t know who did it. We’ll be more vigilant. “She good?” Mason asks.
“Yeah. Ornery. I thought her parents were gonna kill her.” We chuckle. Avery is the levelheaded, meek, sensitive one— unless she gets a burr up her butt and turns into a holy hell terror. Classes start tomorrow and I need to get back to training— Coach gave me a break but it won’t last.
“All that happened is what we can see?” Deacon’s look is hard . . . that fucker can be downright scary when he wants to be. Brody moves closer, tugging his dog tags as he waits for the answer.
“Yeah.” I grit. If anyone would have laid a hand on her in that manner . . . I’d be in a jail cell because I’d burn the fucking town down until I found that motherfucker— then I’d kill him.
“Good. I was ready to call some brothers if needed.” Brody nods. “Thanks for being the extra hand her parents needed. We’re kinda preoccupied and were going crazy.” I get it. Newborns, families, marriages— they have their own lives. If they’d all settle the fuck down that’d be great. Mason is staring at Breck fussing over Aves and I clap his back.
“All good?” I question him.
“Yes. She’s stubborn . . . but I’m a jackass. I have longevity she hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting.” He chuckles.
“Dude— my sister.” Brody groans and we have a laugh as we unload some stuff and make sure our girl— my girl— is settled.
I sneak back over that night.
And every night for a week.
Then we rotate houses for three months.
“Are you serious?” Her eyes are narrowed.
“It wasn’t my idea.” I try to defend myself.
“You let Mason set you up with a date to the Halloween party. And it so happens to be the skankiest BB known?” Oh, I’m gonna pay for this. I send an apology to my dick and wonder what kind of gift is acceptable so he’ll forgive me.
“You’re the one who came up with the dating scheme.” Wrong defense.
“And you shut that shit down.” She reminds me.
“But you still flirt in front of me.” Again— wrong thing to say. I duck as her paintbrush sails past me.
“Unless you’d like me to announce I’m a lesbian, I don’t have a choice. Emberlee was hinting there was a woman she met at an event that would be perfect for me.” I could get down with that action. “Wipe that look off your face Caden Monroe. You wanna bring another girl into our escapades, fine. I’ll do the same . . . I’ve been scoping the football team.”
Pump the brakes. Hold the fuck up. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, you’re the only one who can have fantasies?” Is she saying I’m not enough for her? This shit ends here. I stalk to the basement door and she thinks I’m leaving— instead I turn the lock. And turn to my prey. I’m gonna fucking devour her. She’ll never think of another guy— team— what the fuck— again. And double win. I don’t have to find a present for my dick.
“You can’t settle every argument with sex.” She holds her hands in front of her to halt me. I laugh.
“Good thing we don’t argue a lot and we both like sex.” I keep moving closer and when she hits the wall and has nowhere to go, I pounce. Fuck the foreplay. I maul her clothes from her body and shred mine in the process. I can smell her arousal and grip her leg locking it over my hip and push inside.
She’s wet and coats my dick as a loud moan emits from her throat. “So good.” I nip her collarbone. “Who is inside you?” I demand of her.
“You.” She sighs.
“My name, Avery.”
“Caden.” She wails.
I push deep and stop. “Again.”
“Caden.” I pull back and hit it harder. My name erupts from her mouth. I continue the pace until she’s hoarse and has come three times before submitting to my own release shouting her name.
I thought we settled this but I was wrong. I may have some girl next to me— that I won’t allow to touch me— I made the rules clear. But my little minx is across the room dressed like Mary Mary from the nursery rhyme. Fucking themes for Julie, they said— although that two-year-old isn’t here. I pull at my Jack Sprat costume and glare at her while she giggles— fucking giggles— at her date. Frank . . . a fucking ball boy for our team. I catch Deacon’s eye and nod as a grin stretches across his face. I need to find Mason and let the fun begin. This fucker will be hazed and I can guaran-damn-tee he won’t have a second date with her. Mason is off in a corner, pushing girls off him while watching Brecklynn avoid him. Just another day. I whistle and he looks at me. Nodding my head to where Deacon is heading he laughs and we meet to walk the rest of the way.
“Guys.” Avery warns. I can take the back and play innocent.
“Who is your friend, Aves?” Deacon is sinister.
“Frank. It’s me guys. I help you everyday.” Idiot.
“You the one who put starch in my jock strap? I hate that shit.” Mason razes him.
“No. I’m in charge of the equipment.” He boasts— and lies.
“You mean you pick up their bats when they hit a ball?” Brody joins us and Avery knows what we’re doing— but poor Frank is oblivious.
“I have to keep track of whose is who. It isn’t easy.” He straightens his bow tie and fuck if I know what he’s dressed as.
“Because our name engraved in them isn’t clue enough?” I snicker and Avery glowers.
“Nice seeing y’all. Now beat it.” She tries . . . and it’s cute. I smile, thinking how nice her ass is gonna look red when I spank it later.
“Come have a drink with us, Frank.” Deacon is so kind.
“No. He’s fine. Caden, shouldn’t you get back to your date?” She hitches her eyebrows. “I’m sure Saylor and Emberlee want their men with them during the one night they don’t have a baby stuck to their tit. They could be the lucky fill-in.” Damn she’s good. “And I think some douche was looking at Breck. I heard fine ass and hit it, quite clear.” Fuck— she annihilated me. Those fucking pussies scurry and she grins.
“Later.” I warn her.
“Can’t wait.” She flips me off.
Lo’ and behold . . . Mace won Breck back and their monkey sex keeps me up every night. Fuck, even when I’m at Avery’s we hear their shrieks of passion. That’s the excuse I use to sleep on her ‘couch’ . . . and Mason is so wrapped in her, he doesn’t question it.
We’re giddy because we get to pretend to have a regular relationship. Still hiding, but in plain sight. Breck is stayi
ng with Mason most nights and I know he’s gonna sign with a team this year. I can feel it. Darby keeps Emberlee and Brody busy, Saylor and Deacon have two . . . so we are alone to do what we wish. A lot.
“Hey. Rolls or garlic bread?” She calls from the kitchen.
“Rolls.” I can hear her happy dance. I hate those fucking yeast rolls but they’re her favorite. And she’s my favorite.
As we sit to eat she asks, “When are you telling everyone?” I know what she’s referring to. I got the results from my MCAT’s and acceptance to Vanderbilt with the stipulation my grades remain where they are during next year.
“I’m gonna wait for the season closer. It’s in a week. I want him to sign with nothing clouding his judgment.” I shove a roll in my mouth and chew. “I think after he signs, settles where he is gonna be, we tell them.”
“You sure?” I wink.
“Positive. Why what’s up?” I sigh.
“I have no problem, I wanna tell them but things are so normal. We’re doing our thing without hiding. I was thinking it’d be fun to shock them next year. Season closer. I don’t want anything clouding Mason’s news and I don’t want anything shrouding us.”
“So, another year, Avery? Still hiding.” I toss my napkin down.
She chuckles and comes to sit on my lap. “No, Caden. Are we hiding now?” I mull it over. Granted, we don’t kiss or hold hands during Sunday dinners but nobody really does. We’re all broken into groups, catching up and making rounds like speed dating because we’re all so busy. “We keep doing what we’re doing. If they find out— they find out. If they don’t, we shock the shit outta them. A big in your face, we’re together, we’re moving to Nashville. It’ll prove how stupid they are.”
I laugh. “Fucking epic.” We seal our deal with a kiss. “And no more dating other people.” She squirms her ass against my lap remembering the red shade it was for hours a few months ago. I grin and waggle my eyebrows.
Fighting Fate (Endgame #4) Page 22
