by Amarie Avant
It had been almost an hour ago that Salvador relieved the computer tech of duty. The tech was due to return soon, and Salvador had no reason to be viewing the recording, but he continued to torment himself.
Garret and Brown were no match for Donavan, though the African American Eddie Garret was a whopping six feet seven inches to Hardy’s five feet nine. Salvador ground his teeth, not sure what he was angrier about. The guy calling Avery by a nickname or Salvador not being a worthy opponent to Hardy. Garret had shoulders that gave him the college basketball nickname “Three Headed Monster.” Timothy Brown, a fellow basketball player, wasn’t as big as Brown, but he wasn’t exactly a Tyrone “Muggsy” Bogues either. He was physically fit, but both men went to the hospital with concussions and broken ribs.
The fight had been pure aggression. No resolve.
While the two men stayed on the ground, Salvador watched as his woman spoke to Hardy. Every fiber of his being coiled. His teeth hurt from grinding them. She touched him with compassion. A blind man could see the love radiating off her for him.
The end of the scene played once more. The tension that had etched its way into Salvador’s being had dissolved. A smile plastered on his face. Hardy dealt the first blow. Salvador knew the verdict come Tuesday.
The lead, Detective Oscar, came into the room, tossing a greasy bag in Salvador’s direction. The smell of fish and chips had his stomach roaring.
“Que Dios the bendiga—May God bless you.”
“It’s Sunday, and we’re clocked in. So, I couldn’t do any less than make my stomach happy. The best damn fish and chips your ever gonna eat.” Oscar grinned. He paused for a moment, then Oscar’s eyes locked onto Salvador’s. “Esparza, you good?”
“Yeah,” he replied, stopping himself from sighing. The entire station had to know of the infamous Donavan Hardy and his connection to Avery Castle.
“You sure?” Oscar repeated, grabbing a computer chair. It rolled toward him. He spun it around, and Oscar sat on it backward, his forearms over the headrest.
“Good as can be.”
“Then you already know come Tuesday, Hardy’s ass will be back in the slammer where he should be. I don’t have any assignments to assign you, Esparza, but you’re gonna leave this one alone, right?” Oscar chose not to pause for an answer. “Besides, little Miss Castle shoulda been sitting in the next jail cell over on Friday night.”
Oscar lived by the law. They both did. Avery was, in fact, an accessory. And regardless of Salvador’s pull, slapping cuffs on Avery became an unnecessary evil due to Castle’s squad of attorneys, there were enough of them to start a major football team.
What if Castle’s attorneys got Hardy an out of jail free card in two days? Salvador wondered if Avery’s father knew his legal arsenal had aided a felon. Salvador had moved around his schedule to attend the court hearing this Tuesday but decided not to bring this to Oscar’s attention or the bit of help that the Castle attorneys provided. Something told Salvador that, though Mr. Castle may not have known then, he knew now. Come Tuesday, a public pretender would be called in as customary, and the DA would dance all over the scum.
Unless Salvador’s Avery helped him, and he chose not to contemplate that diseased thought any further. Avery wouldn’t.
“Don’t worry, big boss, I’ll stay out of the way,” Salvador said.
~~~
The day had been rather uneventful besides the theft rate increasing due to the Memorial Day holiday. Salvador pulled into the garage earlier than usual. He smiled, seeing Avery’s Audi. She’d stayed over all weekend. Perhaps this blunder of hers would make her move in.
He found her in the living room, sitting with legs crossed, knees spread apart, in front of the black leather sofa. Her thick, kinky tresses were draped over onto her face as Avery texted on her phone. Sexy little grunts let Salvador know that she was irritated. As was custom, he wanted to soothe her soul, since she was easily provoked, but he wondered who Avery was communicating with.
She looked up.
“Sal, you’re home.” Avery shook the phone. “My mom is . . . oh, it’s nothing.”
“What is it, baby, tell me.”
She stood, ramming a hand through her hair and pushing it back. “Dad. It’s always my dad. He’s working with the chief of staff to help keep the United States safe.”
Salvador noted the sarcasm in Avery’s voice. She wasn’t supposed to mention what her father did for a living.
“Mom’s lonely at home. She won’t say that she wants Dad home full time, but they must’ve just had an argument. She wants me to go shopping with her tomorrow, for moral support. Holidays are the best days, you know. But she sprung it on me after we were at the outlets today. We hit a few sales already, and she’s not satisfied.”
“A few sales,” he asked, mouth tipped upward to the left.
“Yeah, Sal.” She gave a full-blown smile. “I tried to get Mom to help me shop for the darn house that was gifted to me. Nope. You’d think she’d be proud of me for actually wanting to go shopping let alone it being a holiday weekend. But then again, my mom doesn’t care about coupons or discounts. Once something goes on sale, it becomes obsolete. Oh yeah, that sounds contradictory to what I just said. She actually goes shopping during sales but purchases only the new designs instead. I guess there’s no reason for her to go. She just goes. Anywho, I went to the home improvement store,” she said, kissing his lips. “I got a few things.”
He pulled her to arm’s length. “A few? See how I keep wrapping this back toward your statement of ‘a few.’ ”
She hugged him before he could talk more. Salvador’s hands tickled at her ribs. He scooped her into his arms. The bubbly tone of her laughter as he held her close and how she wiggled away from his tickling washed away their issues. When he knew she’d grown tired of tickling, he stopped.
“So, what did you buy?”
Her soft fingers entwined with Salvador’s. He watched her ass sashay up the stairs as she led him to a guest room, a room Avery had decorated about a year ago when Salvador bought the place—his first home—a home dedicated to his future wife and the three children they’d have.
Light blue walls, copper accent lamps, and what she told him were natural-hued items adorned the room. The full-size bed had been swallowed up as had the plush pile carpet with every sort of item from stacks of tile to nails.
He pulled her before him. “Tsk, mi amor, you bought everything but the kitchen sink.”
“Well, your assessment was correct when saying ‘a few.’ Sal, there are a few things in the trunk of my car. The kitchen sink was on sale, too, but we left it.” She smirked as she teeter-tottered on her heels, thumbs in the back pocket of her jean shorts. “Heck, I almost got a few of those undocumented guys that sit in the front of the place to come by the place and—”
“No,” Salvador quickly cut her off. “You’d be in a shit load of trouble, Avery. Like hell, I’m going to allow you to transport potentially dangerous men you’ve never met before.”
“I know, I know,” she wormed her way into his arms again. “Besides, I’m going to speak with a new contractor from the West Side this Thursday once he finishes a gig. I didn’t like that guy, Mr. Kelly. After we rescheduled to meet again and—”
“And what?”
She shrugged. “Nothing. He was just creepy and rude during our first meeting, so I’m glad I skipped his request to discuss things a second time. He just doesn’t understand that I have no intention of fixing the Baudelaire home up to sell.”
“You sound like you’ve had a busy day.”
“Very busy. The meeting with the new contractor is a few blocks away from Mr. Kelly.”
Salvador grumbled. Avery’s tiny arms wrapped around him so tightly there was no way for him to speak to her without her looking into his eyes. The West Side was a dangerous area, and he didn’t want her to venture there.
“Once I get back to work . . .” she started, her warm breath felt so damn good at
his neck. “Oh, I didn’t take the job downtown, by the way. Something else came up that I’m looking into.”
Avery had worked in one of the roughest inner cities in New York as a piano instructor. But she gave back to the people, and there was a code, even in the slums, where all is good if you show them love. Salvador hadn’t known Avery had found another community organization to potentially help but was glad that she had chosen not to take the position downtown. This was her hometown, but in Salvador’s opinion, only on the East Side.
He rubbed her back, then finally pulled her to arm’s length to ask, “What about those gigs Verdrena helped you with? If you spend a few hours with a handful of students each week, a few blocks from your parents, you can have that estate up and running in record time.”
Without words, Avery went back to hugging him.
CHAPTER 13
Avery
Avery had felt like hyperventilating, but the feeling was starting to pass. Her nonstop talk about her mom and shopping had concerned her. Hell, even she knew the sound of disorganized speech patterns, which was something her old therapist at Sunnymead had said she had bad when she was anxious.
As Salvador’s corded arms held her close, Avery worked at loosening the tension in her jaw. This man loves me. She told herself repeatedly while Spanish leather notes teased her nose.
She didn’t want to bring up what was bothering her with Salvador, especially since his curiosity was beginning to be appeased about Donavan Hardy. She’d been texting with her mother when Sal had arrived. Donavan had been by to drop off the money for bailing him out of jail. How dare he? Donavan hadn’t even asked to speak with Avery, just simply thanked her mother—
Avery stopped herself from ruminating over this. “I’m cooking dinner. I took out chicken and shrimp. Any special requests?”
“Whatever you had in mind works for me.” Salvador began to pull off his tie. “Want to join me in the shower first?” He placed a hand on the small of her back, bringing her to his broad chest.
Rising to her tippy toes, Avery kissed his lips. Though everything about Salvador made her want to be happy, she tossed a thumb over her shoulder. She knew in her heart she was distancing herself. “I’ll take a nightcap because I may have bought myself a lil’ something from Soma’s that’s specifically for you as well.”
“Oooo.” He grinned.
“Sangria is in the fridge, and I have a lot of prepping to do.” Avery backed away.
“I could be your sous chef.”
“Nope, I have it all covered.”
~~~
In the kitchen, Avery placed orange, red, and green bell peppers onto the silver-flecked quartz countertop. Try as she might, keeping Donavan from her mind was impossible. She’d headed for a cutting board, but instead, grabbed her cell phone from the counter and started to dial Greg Hardy. Even after she’d learned that Donavan had clearly abandoned her, Avery kept in touch with the Hardys. She’d never been bold enough to confront them about Donavan enlisting in the army. When Alexander had finally gotten tired of her conspiracy, she’d gone from denial to believing he simply just didn’t want her anymore.
When Avery was sent to Sunnymead Resort, Mrs. Hardy had been one of the only people besides her parents, and her old obstetrician-gynecologist, Dr. Blaine, to visit her. Avery was too depressed to mention Donavan at that time anyway. Just the thought of him sent her flipping out, needing to be subdued.
Avery knew that Dr. Blaine had felt obligated to visit since Avery had made a fool of herself during her delivery. The woman had visited a few times, and then the visits slowly trickled down. Avery’s father had come to see her more than anyone. He was probably there at the asylum more than he was home when Avery was a child. Most of the time, she shunned his visits. Verdrena’s visits were infrequent because she’d break down in tears over Avery’s situation, and Antonio never knew, so that had just left the Hardys. Mrs. Hardy had made the eight-hour drive once a month.
“I no longer have Donnie to cook for, so, I brought these.” Mrs. Hardy had said, her voice permeated with sadness, during the first visit, holding a tin can filled with homemade cookies. She’d been sweet and caring and had even asked if she should continue to bring cookies or switch to another desert, or dinner, whatever Avery wanted. She’d mentioned making a mean potpie before hugging Avery once. And after every time, Avery thanked her and let her know that her visits, with food in hand or not, were always appreciated. Mrs. Hardy was her only consistent visitor that she cared for.
And I thought Donavan was somewhere dead. Avery, still holding the iPhone in her hand, was unable to fathom why Mrs. Hardy, who had been so kind to her, had let her think he was dead.
Twenty minutes passed. Avery still stood there, no closer to making fajitas than she’d been before. After more thought, Avery determined that it might have been her own delusions and not Mrs. Hardy who made her believe the worst had happened to Donavan. Now, the sweet, old woman had passed. Mrs. Hardy died of a stroke. Though Avery kept in touch still, Greg Hardy no longer had a warm tone and a happy demeanor. He had changed after being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.
With her thumb poised over the text to talk TYY, she considered just speaking to Donavan. Might as well get it over with, right? Only her heart felt so slammed and tarnished that Avery just couldn’t take Donavan saying he’d grown tired of her and left for the army.
Her thumb barely tapped the screen, and the call began to connect. She held the phone in front of her.
TYY: Hello?
AVERY: Hey, it’s Avery.
TYY: AC. It’s Carly. How are you doing, girl?
Avery paused to smile. Carly and Avery were the same ages. The Hardys had brought her home when Avery and Donnie were in high school after Donavan told them that Carly was being kicked out of her foster home for being pregnant. It was the home that he was previously in before being moved to the Hardys. The Hardys could not understand why after such an extensive amount of time that the caregivers would give up on his old foster sister. Unlike Donavan who’d waited until he was sixteen to be adopted, Carly was ready for the love of a family the moment the Hardys took her in.
AVERY: Great! How’s little Josh?
She eagerly waited for a response.
Just like Antonio, Carly didn’t have a clue why Avery became so aloof during her pregnancy and the years that followed. When Mrs. Hardy would ask Avery if Carly could tag along, Avery had said no. Though Avery was nine-year-old Josh’s godmother, the close relationship she once had with Carly was strained.
TYY/ CARLY: Good. He wore those new jeans for almost two weeks before I could get him to take them off long enough to wash them.
Avery’s eyes stung. Alienating friends had been so much easier when there weren’t kids involved. She had missed so many years with her godson, but once she’d returned to the land of the living, she’d dropped by on Christmas and for eggs hunts with Josh every Easter.
AVERY: I’ll have to get him a size up then for his birthday.
She paused for a moment.
TYY/ CARLY: AC, do you need anything?
Realizing she hadn’t brought up the reason for her call, Avery breathed deeply.
AVERY: Is your dad around?
TYY/ CARLY: He’s asleep. But tell me anything, let me know what you need. You and your mom have helped me, truly. I still can’t thank you enough for the job at Bright Smiles Dental. There are too many trade schools and not enough jobs.
AVERY: No worries, I just…
Her fingers hovered over the messaging system.
TYY/ CARLY: AC, you there?
AVERY: Yep. I wanted to ask Greg a few questions about Donavan. Do you know why he left?
Seconds ticked by ever so slowly. Usually, it didn’t take the person she was communicating with as long as her to speak the words. And here she was, waiting.
TYY/ CARLY: Um, I- I’m not sure.
Avery frowned. Her intuition blared. She felt like Carly was keeping something fro
m her. As Avery squared her shoulders, determined to question the young woman, something caught her eye.
Salvador was at the entrance of the kitchen, waving a hand to her. “Avery, who’re you talking to?”
“My friend, Carly. Babe, what’s wrong?” Her eyes swept up and down his tall, muscular frame. Instead of silk pajamas, he wore black sweats and a hoodie. “Just give me a second,” she added.
AVERY: Okay. Love you, Carly. Just please ask your dad to call me when he wakes up.
TYY/CARLY: Will do. Love ya, too!
Avery gave Salvador all of her attention. He straightened up from lacing a pair of tennis shoes. “My mom slipped and fell.”
“Oh no, did she hurt her hip again?” Avery signed as she spoke. It was something she did when worried, although Salvador couldn’t understand.
“Yeah, that hip replacement a few years ago never slowed her down one bit. Beautiful, I’m sorry. Can I get a raincheck on tonight?” Salvador touched his palm to his forehead. “Salsa dancing, right? You got tickets for Sevilla’s.”
“It’s okay, they were a Memorial Day discount,” she shrugged. “Should I come with you?”
“You can. I’ll be gone for a few days, at least. You know my mom is hard of hearing, so it will be just the two of us talking for no reason.”
Avery nodded slowly. She began to put the uncooked meat away. “You know, I’ll stay and shop with my mom tomorrow. She fronted the bill for a lot of the stuff for the Baudelaire home, so I owe her. Maybe I’ll swing by your mom’s place late tomorrow night, and we can finish off the week with your mom. I’ll give her the pep talk about how Desi Arnaz can’t heat up her sleep with her hip hurting.”
He chuckled. “Aye, my mom has been bragging about her dreams with Desi since I was a kid. The moment you get there, my mom will be fully healed and will want us to take a trip to Miami to visit with her brother and the rest of mi familia.”
