Make Me Stay: A Second Chance Romance

by Amarie Avant

  Her fingers shook as she walked out onto the veranda where her father sat on a lounger with ultra-cushiony pillows. With his saucer of pie in one hand, he patted the seat beside him.

  Avery sat down. Her knees were hardly holding her up anyway. Alexander was speaking to her, but she didn’t sense his concern or look his way.

  With her mouth as dry as an African desert, Avery picked up the turquoise cup of tea and took a sip. Her head tilted just so as she visualized waking up in the middle of the night, screaming while clutching her stomach. Avery’s eyes narrowed as the omen took hold of her. She wasn’t in her own bed. No, she was held captive at the beach house where nobody, but her parents and a caretaker, knew she was expecting Donavan’s child. Her bottom lip dropped.

  C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, AC, this isn’t happening . . . It’s tea, regular tea. She told herself.

  “Avery,” her dad touched her shoulder. Avery’s shoulder dipped, and she bounced up.

  Alexander stood quickly too. He towered above her, gripped her arms, looking her in the eyes, “Baby, what is wrong?”

  “I’m ready to go.” Her gaze fell to the ground as her mind was consumed by what she was told was paranoia.

  “Sweetheart, sit down with me. Let’s talk. Tell your old man anything, honey, I’d do anything for you.” He clutched her to him and tried to give her the type of hug a father would when his child awoke in the dark of night due to nightmares.

  She started to turn away, not desiring to hear anything Alexander had to stay. Her eyes narrowed. Everyone had said Alexander did not do anything. Her mom, who was often Alexander’s biggest adversary, had tried to sweet talk her. Verdrena even went so far as to force her dad to have a lie detector test done, but Avery refused to believe it was useful. He could simply have a friend do it or pay off the technician. Dr. Blaine had—after Alexander had gotten to her—suggested that Avery recall that night again and think things through. Mrs. Hardy didn’t believe her father would poison her too, but Avery assumed that was only to keep the peace.

  But Donavan had just texted her that it was over! What the hell had her father done?

  “Avery, every day you’re getting older, sweetheart. Just sit with me long enough to eat your pie and drink the damn tea. We used to be close, sweetheart. I—”

  “Oh, so you’re groveling, Dad. Now, here you are, wanting a few minutes with me? It’s not too late, I suppose. We could even teach you sign language as we sit here and chat. Something! To help you communicate with your child.”

  “Avery?” His tone was questioning, even the look in his eyes spoke volumes as to how deep her words cut him.

  But she closed her eyes and continued. “Donavan learned sign language for me. I tried to tell you once—I was seven, and he was eight. And he was able to say an entire sentence in sign language. You were too busy, Bluetooth glued to your ear, to notice that some little ass kid was learning sign language to communicate with your daughter.”

  “Avery, I am still your father!” Alexander’s lips tightened. He nodded slowly. “Okay. Tell me how you feel. Sit down, take a deep breath, sip your tea and—”

  Her hand slammed against the side of the tea. The mug flicked hot water onto Alexander’s legs as it went somersaulting sideways from the table and crashing into the ground.

  “Shit,” Alexander started shaking his pant leg.

  “Where is he?” She screamed.

  “Avery, beautiful, calm down—”

  “You poisoned the tea, didn’t you? And you did something . . .” Her voice broke, breaths panting out.

  “Avery,” Alexander’s tone hardened, and the force of the word slammed into her chest. “Sit down so we can talk.”

  “No!” She pushed away from him and started into the house. By the time she made it to the living room, Antonio had stood up from the piano.

  “What’s wrong, sis?” His eyes moved from hers, and Avery knew that he was talking to her dad.

  Alexander grabbed her arm again.

  “Don’t touch me.” She pulled away from him. “Antonio dial Donavan for me, please.”

  Her brother nodded.

  “Dad, just go do what you do best, and leave her alone,” Antonio grumbled while Avery’s shaking hand gave him her phone.

  “It’s ringing,” he said.

  “Tell him that I need him now.” Avery shook with each word.

  Alexander stood back in the hallway, arms folded, but he didn’t leave.

  Antonio bit his lip, then said, “It’s going to voicemail.”

  Tears burned her eyes. She couldn’t do it again. She couldn’t text around to his father and Carly, asking where he had gone.

  Where did he go! Avery took the phone from Antonio’s hand and left Donavan a quick message. “Please, call me.” Her voice cracked; she hung up.

  CHAPTER 36

  Salvador

  When he received a last-minute invitation for dinner from Verdrena Castle, Salvador was at his last mandatory therapy session for the on-duty killing of a gang member. He was a cop; his family at the police station believed that he had acted in an attempt to save himself. After all, a cop’s highest priority was to make it home from work.

  But the thug he’d murdered didn’t have a gun in his hands or on his person. When Salvador broke into the thug’s home and sat waiting for him to arrive to arrive to question him about another investigation, the idiot was too stupid to realize Salvador wasn’t playing games. Salvador needed him to snitch, and he was no snitch. So, it cost him his life.

  In his shock, it took him a few moments to respond to Verdrena.

  “C’mon, Esparza,” Dr. Sanchez said, leaning forward in his chair, “This is important. No taking calls.”

  “Just a quick text.” Salvador smiled for the first time in session while sending the text through that he’d be on his way soon.

  Salvador arrived at the Castle home during Avery’s outburst with her father. However, they did not know that Salvador had parked off-road and was on the tennis court that led to the dining room when Alexander mentioned tea and pie to Avery. He had leaned against the wall just outside the open French doors. He could hardly believe the luck he had while waiting for the two to leave the room. After Alexander went to the kitchen to tell the maid to make tea, he then went outside on the veranda. Salvador had called the house phone, which had prompted the maid to stop cutting the pie. He had sneaked in then decided that Avery wouldn’t be drinking from the mug that read “World’s Greatest Dad.” He added a few dashes of cinnamon to the turquoise mug and gave it a little stir before tossing the spoon into the sink.

  He had watched as the maid had placed the tea, sugar, and honey on a silver tray, and had taken it to Alexander. That’s when Salvador waited to watch the magic happen.

  He had already verified with Raymond Palmer that Donavan was out of town completing his final job for Elroy. So, Hardy was out of the way. When Avery and her father were thick into the argument, Salvador determined that his job was done. He had hurried back to his car, to drive around front, arriving late.

  The double doors to the home were yanked open as Avery barreled outside. Her hair fell in massive waves down her back, and she was stunning in a turquoise pantsuit that hugged softly at her curves. Beautiful plush lips bunched together and all. Her hips swayed as she started over the flagstone bridge. Salvador slammed the door to his car, waiting for her to notice him in her peripheral.

  When she did, she stopped dead in her tracks. His mouth tugged at the edges, a telltale sign that he’d really smile soon, for the first time since Avery had left him and he’d have her all to himself.

  “What are you doing here?” She huffed the words then turned around. Her father, in close pursuit of her, stopped moving too.

  Alexander was in shock, “Honey, I didn’t—”

  “Yeah right.” Avery stormed over to Salvador. “Hey, I-I am sorry. I don’t know what my father has . . .”

  “Shhhh,” Salvador’s thumb glided across her te
ars. “What’s wrong, mi amor.”

  Her gaze faltered. She licked her lips and pouted. “Salvador, you should just go home. My father is playing a cruel game. I think he just tried to drug me again.”

  “I never drugged you, Avery. Never in my life would I hurt you, you are my child!” Alexander planted his hand on her arm.

  “Don’t touch me,” she simpered, moving closer to Salvador.

  Salvador took on an investigative stance. “Sir, what is Avery talking about, you drugging her?”

  “Who the hell are you to come to my home and ask me anything about my daughter!” Alexander wagged his hand in front of Salvador’s face. Salvador laughed, recalling Avery mentioning that her dad reminded her of Eli Pope from the show they use to watch Scandal.

  “Salvador, don’t!” Avery snapped. “Just . . . I’m sorry, but you should go. I’m actually leaving too.”

  “It’s getting dark, mi amor—”

  “Please don’t call me that!”

  “You know what,” Alexander cut in. “I regret not having a background check conducted on you, Mr. Esparza. How perfect is this scenario for you? Soon, I’ll know all there is to know about you, your dirty little thoughts—every-fucking-thing.”

  Salvador nodded his head, regarding Alexander with a slither of a smile. He didn’t want to seem cocky in front of Avery, but he wanted the old man to be aware that he was as clean as the Virgin Mary.

  “Can I at least follow you home?” Salvador addressed Avery.

  “It honestly isn’t necessary, Sal. Thanks, but you don’t have to follow me.” Avery apologized once more then headed toward her parallel parked Audi, ready for the entire day to be over.

  He glared at Alexander one last time before getting back into the car. When Avery was his, Salvador never desired her to leave one place without him. He was a gentleman, and her safety was key. He nodded his head to Avery, as she made a U-turn, indicating old habits die hard.

  ~~~

  The sky had transformed from a light purple to a deep indigo by the time Salvador waved at Avery as she unlocked the front door of the guesthouse. His Impala crept back down the winding road. When he was closer to Baudelaire, Salvador pulled over into a bend in the road. His ultra-bright lights dimmed, fading to black.

  Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, he wondered how long it would take Avery to pack and leave again, to head to the plantation. People were creatures of habit. And when she was alone, something about the damn place had a hold on her.

  True to form, he had to wait but only another ten minutes before the trees were illuminated by the headlights from her car. His heart pounded as Avery began to pass by because the turnoff he had pulled into wasn’t completely hidden. If she glanced over, she’d most likely see him.

  The Audi continued by. Without turning on his headlights, Salvador followed. The ride to the plantation took them on a curvy road, but every turn was embedded in his brain. After all the times Salvador had found Avery at her great-grandparent’s place camping inside or running or just taking pictures, he knew his way around. About a quarter mile out, he planted his foot on the break and waited. When he saw the smoke in the air, he’d know that she’d started a fire in the ballroom and was comfortably waiting—for him.

  ~~~

  Salvador stepped inside of the foyer. The floorboards didn’t creak as usual. There was no worn runner underneath his feet when he glanced down, and the entire flooring was the original natural wood. The seated area to the left had been replaced with new, expensive marble tile that trailed throughout the foyer. He nodded his head proud of what Avery had finally accomplished.

  The sound of her voice pulled at his heartstrings.

  “Please . . . please . . . please answer your phone, Donnie.”

  Salvador flexed and relaxed his fingers into tightly bound fists. She’s been brainwashed by him. She doesn’t know what she wants.

  He started in the direction of the ballroom.

  “When you’re away, I miss everything about you, Donnie. Whatever happened, we can make things right. Just call me when—” Avery’s voice tapered off. “Hello?” she called out. “Donavan?”

  Salvador moved into the magnificent archway entrance. The fire was lit, but he turned on the lights. Each of the chandeliers danced and flickered their way to working. That was something that they’d need an electrician to fix.

  He headed over to her, saying, “No, it’s not Donavan, Avery. It’s me. And I love you.”

  “Salvador, why are you here?” Her voice trembled as she sat, cross-legged on her cot. She hadn’t even changed her clothes and still had on the turquoise pantsuit.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes, Avery, to remind you of what we have.” He crouched down, caressing her cheek.

  “Stop!”

  “I made you happy again, Avery. Not that cabron, me! The sooner you realize it, the happier we will be together. And we will be together.”

  “No, Sal. I said I care deeply for you, but I don’t—”

  The smack across her cheek reverberated throughout the room.

  CHAPTER 37

  Donavan

  Two hours before

  Stars glittered in the sky. It was a beautiful sight, made all the more beautiful by the thought of being closer to his and Avery’s savings goal for Baudelaire He’d crossed the state line at Tabor City, North Carolina and had about two more hours to make it to the checkpoint. With the station on some lazy country music, Donavan chowed on a double cheeseburger for dinner, while one-handing the steering wheel.

  His cell phone vibrated in the cup holder next to him. “Shit, Avery,” he grumbled to himself. If he answered this call, he’d bitch out and tell her exactly what he intended to do for Palmer. The truth had been on the tip of his tongue too many times, lately, so he waited for the call to transfer to voicemail.

  The damn thing kept ringing. Donavan yanked it up and pressed the button expecting to hear a TTY representative beginning the conversation, but he was met by another familiar voice.

  “Donavan, you asshole! Dad’s awake, and he’s askin’ for ya!” Carly sounded angry.

  He quickly addressed her irate tone, saying, “Well, hello, baby sis. How about you simmer down and put him on.”

  “He needs to see you, now.”

  “No can do. See, because I’m already out of town, outta the state, actually. So, if you would be so kind as to tell Dad, I’ll see him bright and early in the morning.”

  “Tsk,” She scoffed. “I cannot believe you, Donavan.” Her voice was full of derision. “I’ve been grateful to you since I was sixteen years old. Foster kids our age rarely get adopted, and you, instead of being a stingy bastard—which you are—you shared your parents with me while I was pregnant, meaning even more than one person to share them with. If the situation were reversed, I’d have kept my mouth shut, Donnie, but not you, because you’re the good guy. So, you be the good guy, now, because I’ve done it for years. Since Momma died, you got the be the grieving asshole. Get your ass over here now before I come, find you, and drag your crazy, lawless ass back myself!”

  “Carly . . .” His voice was testy.

  “Oh, I guess the threat hasn’t sunk in yet. I swear, you should come move in with Dad. I could use the rest.”

  “Be there in an hour,” he replied, contritely.

  Donavan gunned the engine, heading for the offramp. If he could just get his dad to calm down and go to sleep, he’d still squeeze by.

  ~~~

  It only took him an hour and fifteen minutes to return to Myrtle Beach. In the gated community of his childhood home, Donavan’s truck slowed to a respectable speed. The upper-middle-class houses had large front yards and ample space surrounded each home. Faint blue lights dotted the night from various windows of some of the homes signifying that people were home watching the news or late-night talk shows as he pulled up the cobblestone driveway.

  The home was like a massive cottage. And although it was huge, his mom had a w
ay of making it warm, comforting and inviting. Carly was right. Since her death, Donavan would do church with the family on occasion, but there was no reason for him to stay. Dad’s multiple sclerosis causes him severe pain and depressed.

  When Donavan let himself into the house, he expected complaining and arguing. The few times he came over—not for Sunday dinner and church—Dad would be arguing with Carly about pain meds. One time, he’d grabbed a tiny whiteboard from her hands, which had his medication schedule, and broke the damn thing in half all before falling to the floor, clutching his stomach in pain. So, the complaining Carly had done while Donavan was driving was nothing new. She really deserved a rest, but she was all talk. He knew she wouldn’t leave her dad.

  The living room was neat and tidy as he walked through the hallway. He headed up the stairs and stopped in the first room on the left. Little Josh was sound asleep with the constellation glowing on the ceiling above his head.

  What the hell, Carly? There’s no fighting going on? He passed his own bedroom, where he could almost hear the sound of his father’s voice talking about how much it hurt him to punish Donavan.

  “Dad, there is no baby.” Carly sighed, her hands rested on her head while exiting the master bedroom. Her eyes brightened with hope when she saw Donavan.

  “Dad may be going senile.” She could hardly get the words out as her gaze teared up.

  “What is he talking about?” Donavan gave her a quick hug.

  “You, and a baby, and Avery. He wants to go on a picnic and surprise the boy—he said the baby is a boy now, with a baseball mitten just like you had when he played with you.”

  Donavan reared back on his boots. His broad chest became tight. “Carly, just get him to go to sleep.”

  “What the fuck! Where are you going?” Carly stammered. “Oh my god! She was pregnant. I’d asked Mom before she went to see Avery so many times I asked, ‘Why can’t I go?’ You left her pregnant, didn’t you?”

  Without so much as waiting for a response, Carly headed back into the master suite. “Dad, Donavan’s here. He’s coming to chat.”