by Autumn Avery
“All right, Ty,” Craig says, giving me a friendly slap on the back. “Watch your ass, you hear?”
“No doubt.”
“Stay safe,” Drew adds.
My heart is starting to slow as I get into my truck. The engine roars to life and I gun it out of the parking lot, watching my friends disappear in my rear view as they scatter, headed for their vehicles, ready to get out of dodge.
My friends, my life, my past. I’m leaving it all behind. All of it—in my rear view.
It’s time to move on.
I think of Jenny and smile.
25
Jenny
Where is he!?
I’m on the verge of a freak out. Ty said a few hours and it hasn’t even been that, but my worrisome tendencies have kicked in and that’s all I’m doing. The kids and I finished packing and now there’s nothing to do but wait. Josh is reading and Ella is playing on her phone.
What if something went wrong? I think.
I don’t even know what could go wrong. I don’t even know what’s going on. That’s what’s making this hard—not knowing. If I had any idea where he was right now or what the danger was, then I could be rationalizing. At least my mind would have something to hold on to. But for all I know he’s robbing a bank—or what’s worse, he already tried to rob the bank, got caught, and is now sitting in a jail cell somewhere and I’ll never see him again.
I have no way to reach him, and he has no way to reach me. My eyes settle on the front door to my apartment. Until that door opens, and he walks through, I have no way of knowing.
Can you picture a life with me? That’s what Ty had said.
Of course I could. I’d been picturing it since I started to have feelings for him. As much as I try to keep that side of me locked away, Ty had burst in like a master thief and sent my mind spinning. Picturing a life with him was one of the first things I did, and was why I was so upset when I thought he’d used me. When I woke up alone that first time, my whole world came crashing down when I thought I’d fallen into the same trap of caring for someone who could never care for me.
But then when he’d said those words …
It was like a thick set of double doors I’d kept closed and locked for years just swung open and revealed a whole new world to me. And now my heart is on the line. If Ty doesn’t come back …
Don’t think like that! I scold myself.
He will be coming back. He is strong, capable and promised. He won’t let me down. He can’t. Things are going to be better. Things are going to be perfect. I’m doing my best to stay calm, but I feel my body temperature rising and my chest is tight. It’s getting hard to breath. It feels like I’m on the verge of a panic attack when I hear a knock at the door.
I leap off the couch without even having to think about it. It’s like a reflex. My heart is ready to jump out of my throat as I race towards the door. I grab the handle and pull the door open.
“Oh!” The word escapes my mouth and I slap a hand across my lips to muffle the gasp that comes after. It isn’t Ty.
Two men, who are clearly trouble, are standing at my door. One has a thick scar running across his cheek and up to his forehead, and the other is so muscled he looks like a body builder. He’s in stained jeans and a tank top. I try to slam the door, but he easily shoves it open, knocking me to the floor in the process.
“Hello, darling,” he growls in a thick British accent. I kick hard off the floor and try to run, but his hand tightens around my ankle in a vice like grip. I spin and try to wriggle free, but the second man leans down and casually takes my neck in his hand and squeezes, instantly cutting off my air.
“Now, don’t fight too hard,” he says, smiling down at me. “We don’t want to have to sully that pretty face of yours. We’re not here for you, we’re here for your boyfriend.”
Ty? These men are here for Ty?
I stop flailing and feel the man’s hands start to loosen around my throat and I suck in a deep breath of air. I should be afraid for my life, but my thoughts are on Josh and Ella—on Ty.
“My children,” I manage to say. “Please—”
“We’re not here for them either,” the British one says. “But if you don’t cooperate, we may have to pay them a visit. Now you gonna do what we say?”
I can only nod. I’m paralyzed with fear. My throat is dry and it feels like a boulder has been placed on my chest. Even though I’m no longer being choked, I’m finding it hard to breath.
“On your feet, lass,” the British man says, grasping my arm and lifting me to my feet like I was a ten pound dumbbell. “Get a chair, Jimmy.”
Jimmy, the scar-faced man, heads to the kitchen and returns with one of my chairs. He sets it in the center of the room and motions for me to sit.
“Plant your ass, girl.”
I try to move, but I can’t. I want to scream at myself. This isn’t how I should be reacting. I should be ready for things like this. Things have happened at the club, and I never lose myself like this. But this is different. I wasn’t expecting this at all, and my kids are in the apartment. This isn’t about me—this is about them.
The British thug must see what’s happening, grabs me by the waist, and sets me into the chair. I hear the thick sound of duct tape and feel the sticky bite as my arms are taped to the armrests. I want to struggle. I want to fight. But I can’t. Even if I resisted, there’s nothing I can do against these men. If they wanted me dead, I would already be dead.
Now I understand what Ty meant. He must be in some serious trouble, and he’s trying to get out of it. But if things went like he wanted, why are these men here? Something must have gone wrong. Is Ty okay?
I have to get control of myself. There are too many ifs to contemplate right now. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing—three seconds in, three seconds out. I’m helpless, and I accept the fact that my life is no longer in my hands. But what I can’t accept, is that the lives of my children are out of my control.
Ty will be here, I think. He will. He has to.
“Now, when’s your boyfriend getting back?” Jimmy says, squatting down in front of me. The scar on his face is enormous, and I can’t imagine what could have done such damage. It’s raised and still slightly pink, which means it didn’t happen that long ago.
“I—I don’t know,” I stammer, trying to swallow and find my voice.
“Now, now, girlie. Don’t play with us, you hear?” The British one chimes in. “We ain’t in the mood.”
“R-really,” I squeal. “I don’t know! I don’t even kn-know where he is!”
The men stand up and cross their arms, looking down at me like they’re examining a dead body.
“I dunno, Jimmy. You believe her?”
I feel like I’m going to throw up. I can almost see their internal debate being played out on their faces. What if they don’t believe me? What happens then? Is this going to be the end for me? What will happen to Josh and Ella?
‘Yeah,” Jimmy cackles.
Thank God.
“She don’t look like that great a liar,” he adds.
“Hey, assholes.”
Ty’s voice from the door.
My heart leaps, and I look up to see Ty standing just inside the apartment. Before it can even register, Ty moves in, and with a single blow sends Jimmy sprawling to the floor. Jimmy tries to get up, but Ty follows up his punch with a kick to the face, knocking him out.
“You fuck!” The British man declares, raising a fist at Ty.
Ty belts him in the nose with a blow that would level any other man. But he only staggers back and wipes the blood with the back of his hand. Ty swings again, but the man blocks it and fires back. Ty almost ducks the blow, but it half connects with his cheek and snaps his head backwards.
I fight hard against my bindings, but the tape is wrapped too tight, and there’s nothing I can do. I can only watch as Ty fights, for both of us, for all of us.
He swings, but the man blocks the blow. Ty leaps b
ack to avoid the man’s flailing swing and jabs him back in his already broken nose. The man steps back, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a switchblade.
With a click, a black serrated blade snaps out and locks into place. He grins, licking blood off his lip, and advances on Ty. Taking a step back, Ty lowers his hands.
What is he doing? I think.
The man takes another step forward, pulls back his arm and lunges. I can only watch as the blade plunges towards Ty’s chest.
He’s not even moving! I shout inside. My breath catches in my throat.
Finally, as the blade is just centimeters from his chest, Ty slips to the right and grabs the mans wrist with one hand. In a blur, he brings his elbow down on the mans forearm, breaking it with a sickening snap.
The man’s scream is cut off as Ty drives his fingers into his neck. The blade drops to the floor as the man collapses onto his knees. Ty raises a fist high in the air, puts all his weight into it and hits the man hard in the face. His eyes roll back in his head and he faceplants onto the floor beside his fallen comrade.
“Are you okay?!” Ty says, racing over to me.
“Y-yes!” I stammer. He pulls at my hands but sees the duct tape. Quickly, he picks up the fallen man’s switchblade from the ground and cuts me free.
“I’m so sorry!” he says, lifting me into his arms and holding me tight. His embrace is like a drug, and I am instantly calmed as I feel the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms holding me to him. And there’s his smell. I bury my face in his neck and breath deep, feeling one with him.
“Who were those men?!” I ask him, pulling back to look him in the eyes.
“I can’t explain now,” he says quickly, setting me down. “Get Josh and Ella. We have to go.”
“But, the—” I motion to the fallen men on my living room floor.
“I’ll move them,” he says, grabbing the smaller man by the wrists and dragging him into the kitchen out of sight. “You are all packed?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ve got a car outside. Let’s go!”
Ty grabs the British monster by the legs and begins lugging him into the kitchen. I hear him grunt under the strain of moving so much weight. I move past him into the hall and knock gently on Josh’s door before entering. He’s sitting on his bed reading one of his books, his suitcase packed at his feet.
“Hey, honey!”
“What was all that noise, mom?” he asks me, looking slightly timid.
“Oh, that was nothing. Just moving some furniture! Are you all ready to go?”
He nods his head. “Can I read my book in the car?”
“Of course you can, honey! I’m just going to get your sister and we’ll get going. Okay?”
“Okay!”
With a smile, I pull his door shut and open Ella’s. She’s playing on her phone as usual, but I breath a sigh of relief when I see she’s been wearing headphones this whole time and probably has no idea what just happened in the living room.
“Ella,” I say. “Ella! You ready to go?”
She pulls out one of her ear buds and glances up at me. “What?”
“Are you ready to go?” I repeat. “Ty’s here.”
“Yeah,” she says casually, looking back at whatever she’s doing on her phone. I step out into the hall and peer into the living room. Ty is standing there waiting. I catch his eye and he gives me the thumbs up.
“Okay, let’s go,” I tell her, opening Josh’s door. “Time to go, hun!”
“Okay!” he says, leaping up and coming over to my side. Ella comes into the hall and we walk together towards Ty.
“Here we go,” he whispers to me as I step up beside him.
Here we go, I think as we take our steps out of the apartment for the last time.
Epilogue
Five months later …
“It looks like rain again,” I say, my eyes on the purple-grey clouds coming up over the hills. I check my watch: two thirty. Right on time. It always rains in the afternoon up here after the hot morning has passed.
“Just a shower,” Ty says, wrapping a sweaty arm around my neck. He’s been working on the driveway, fixing some potholes from the Winter frost. “How are you feeling?”
He brings his other hand across my waist and rests it on my belly. It’s really growing. I’d forgotten what it was like to be pregnant. I’m four months along now and my body is starting to change. Ty loves it. He can’t keep his hands off me and tells me it’s only going to get worse. My breasts have already started to grow, and he’s having all kinds of fun with them.
“Good,” I reply, taking a deep breath of the summer air and look back at our new house, a beautiful old farm house that Ty has been fixing up. He’d taken us here the same day we left my apartment behind. When we arrived, and Josh and Ella had settled into their new rooms, he told me everything.
A gangster named Little Nicky was forcing him to throw fights and was going to hurt us if he didn’t take orders. He was betting heavily on Ty going down and would have won a lot of money if things had worked the way he wanted. But Ty had other plans.
He had his old military buddies place bets on winning in round two by knock out, and then he made sure that happened. When he showed me the bag of money he’d collected from the bookies the next day, my eyes almost fell out of my skull. We had enough to last us for years, and on top of that, he’d sold his old house back in town as well.
“Jenny?” I hear a voice behind me say. “Would you guys like chicken tonight?”
I turn to see Ty’s mom standing on the porch, a flower print apron around her waist.
“That sounds great!” I say, waving back at her.
“I’ll get it started then,” she smiles.
Ty was able to get his mom the best treatment money could buy, and she’d responded well. The doctors said she was in remission and more than likely was cured. Things couldn’t have worked out any better. The house is big enough for all of us that we have our privacy but aren’t getting lost in a maze of endless hallways and rooms.
Nicky’s goons haven’t come after us, and Ty says we’re safe. And I believe him. He says his organization basically fell apart after he took out the top guys.
“Loyalty is bought with dollars,” he told me. “The rest of them don’t care about me.”
Ty told me about the drunk driver. About his wife and daughter. I could see the pain there, and I wasn’t sure he would ever fully get past it. I know he won’t. It will always be there, lingering in the back of his mind, but I hope I can now be enough for him.
When we decided to get pregnant—when he told me he wanted it, my heart just soared. Ella was indifferent, and Josh is excited to have a new baby brother, or sister, whichever it ends up being.
Who would have thought that the arrogant jerk I met that night at the club would end up being the man of my dreams? I’ve been able to stop dancing, and I will never go back. I have a stable family now, and life isn’t a struggle—it’s a dream.
I stare up at Ty and wipe a drop of sweat from his cheek. He’s gotten quite tan from working outside so much.
“I love you,” I tell him. He’s probably getting tired of hearing me say it. I remind him several times a day.
“I love you too, Jenny,” he tells me, kissing me on the forehead.
I take his hand and turn and walk towards the house—our house. A stripper and a criminal. Who would have ever thought a happy ending would be in store for us?
Author’s Note
My third book! Hooray! I just have to thank all of you for making my dreams of being a writer come true. I hope you liked this book as much as I liked writing it. If you haven’t read ROCK HARD or VANISHED yet, I’ve included a sample as well as a link just after this!
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Autumn Avery
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Also by Autumn Avery
Rock Hard
By Autumn Avery
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I’m not even getting paid for this, I think as I pace through the back hallways of the photography studio where I have just started as an assistant.
But that’s the way this business works. You work your way up. It’s all about who you know.
I have to keep reminding myself of this over and over in order to justify pushing through the near heart attack I’m having as my feet echo loudly against the concrete floor leading back to the dressing rooms.
This building used to be some kind of warehouse a few years ago, but the company went under and it went up for sale, and my boss, celebrity photographer Bob Ryan, bought it for pennies on the dollar and set up a studio. It was twice the size of his other place, at least, and cost about a quarter.
I graduated art school in the spring and was lucky enough to get a small showing of some of my photos at the Bombay Bistro, a local coffee shop chain here in Austin. Paul, the owner, is a really nice guy and let me have a week or so to show my senior project I’d done entitled “People of Austin,” a documentary style series on the homeless population of the city. I was hanging my photos when I ran into Bob.
He’d liked my work and given me an offer to intern for him at his new studio, moving lights, fetching gear—gopher work really, and it didn’t pay. But he’d shot for everyone. All the big studios, T.V. networks, magazines, you name it. And although I am an artist, I do need to make a living.
