I have to believe him.
He looks at me a moment longer, making sure I understand, then leads me to the shower, where the nozzle sprays the far wall. His hands are on me now, steadying, as he guides me in, just like he did that night when he guided me into the bathtub. Only that time was different.
He closes the door behind us, then holds me in front of him, his eyes meeting mine. “You sure about this?”
I nod.
“Alright. Front or back first?”
I turn around, so my back’s to him.
He places one hand on my waist, one hand on my shoulder. “Ready?” he asks.
I nod and brace, then he reaches up and slowly turns the spray onto my body.
It’s like a thousand daggers stabbing me all at once. I gasp and whimper, feeling that strong pull to be quiet. I try to manage the pain, try to center my breathing, but it’s not working.
My body begins to cave, but he’s there, holding me strong. Tears bleed into the water, running down my face while I try so hard not to think about how I got to this place. The water seeps everywhere, including to that place between my legs. I feel the burn and stagger back into Gavin, clenching my teeth. But he stands there, unwavering, whispering into my ear how brave I am, how strong I am. I begin to cry and want so bad to give up, but his words are there, giving me the strength to keep going. Slowly, I turn around, then collapse into him when the water hits my back. I want to scream, but I bury my head in his chest and simply weep from the pain. Gavin’s chest begins to shake, and I know he’s weeping too.
But those whispers keep coming, telling me it’s going to be okay. It’s all going to be okay. Slowly, the pain begins to fade and I look up into his eyes—eyes rimmed red and filled with tears. His jaw is clenched tight, his face etched in pain, as though he’s suffering with me.
He cradles my head and I see tears slide down his cheeks while he gazes at me. But I’m better now, the pain has settled, and he sees that. He reaches for the soap and asks for permission. I nod and hold onto him while he rubs it between his hands and sets it down. Then ever so gently, he begins to wash me, brushing his soapy fingers over each and every bruise, every welt, every cut, as though it will wash away the memory that put it there. He whimpers when I whimper, he cries when I cry, our souls forging a bond that feels so strong it could hold back the tide, even though in so many ways, we’re still strangers. One night. One messed-up, beautiful night is all we had together, and yet I feel like I’ve been with him every night since then. Because in many ways, I have. He’s been in my thoughts, my dreams, my memories, like a dark knight who never ever left my side, even when I left his.
He’s washing my hair now, so gently, so carefully. I feel light begin to trickle in, like someone is slowly drawing back the curtains and letting the sun shine in, one golden ray at a time. I feel so cherished, so cared for. Just like that night, that stormy night, when he soothed my every ache so reverently.
By the time we’re done and he turns the shower off, I feel more like myself than I have in a very, very long time.
I look up into his eyes, swollen and red, like mine. When I press my lips tight, he knows I’m trying to say thank you. He smiles, and places a soft kiss on my forehead. Then his eyes fall to my lips, where they linger. But his jaw clenches and he looks away, then goes to open the door. I hold him back and guide his eyes back to mine.
I gaze up into his face with longing.
Please.
There’s a hardness in his face. A hardness I’ve seen before, when he was trying to protect me. But he doesn’t deny me this time, instead his gaze drops again to my lips and his hands come up and cradle my face. Then slowly, he leans down and places his lips gently onto mine. It’s a kiss of fairy tales. A healing kiss. A soothing kiss. So loving, so pure, so honest. It’s a kiss that slays my dragons and turns my world around, bringing me right side up, at least for now, reminding me that even though there is darkness in the world, there is still light to be found. I feel him. Feel his love, his caring, his desire. Yet, I still feel the demon, caged just below the surface, filled with rage and darkness and torment, that for the moment he has reigned tightly in, keeping it from me in this tender moment. Keeping me safe, even from him.
When he finally pulls back, we stare at each other for a long moment, all the while his fingers offering gentle caresses along my jaw. I’m not sure what the future holds, but somehow, in some way, with this beautiful man before me—gazing at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world—I feel ready and able to take that first step. That first step back into a new world.
EPILOGUE
Ava
The morning sun yawns against the sleepy sky, gearing itself up for another warm summer day. Its golden glow creeps quietly, tip-toeing over the tops of the oak and Cypress trees that surround the estate. A large fenced meadow rests just beyond the pool and manicured hedges, where I know three precious horses graze somewhere amid the trees.
Gavin sits beside me on the back porch, his arm wrapped around my shoulders while the bench rocks back and forth. I feel the caress of his fingers along my arm, trying to comfort me, care for me, as always. We’re both quiet, both in a weary haze after another night of terrors that, as usual, has me waking before dawn. Unable to fall back asleep, I’ve taken to watching the sunrise. Maybe because it’s a reminder that even though darkness settles in, the light always returns.
It’s only been a couple weeks, I have to remind myself, since Gavin freed me from my chains, but somehow it feels longer. There’s an odd stillness around me. The sort of stillness that slows everything down, but somehow manages to bring out all the details. The way the sunlight catches the angle of a flower petal, the way the breeze rustles the leaves in the trees, the way Gavin breathes when he’s deep in sleep. I feel as though I’ve gone from listening to loud, thrasher music blasting in my ears for an eternity, to suddenly dead quiet. In some ways, it’s peaceful, in other ways, it’s haunting. It gives me too much time to think, too much time to remember.
Gavin stretches his legs out with a sigh and looks my way. “How you doing, sunshine?” His voice is deep and throaty, as though he just woke up, even though we’ve been awake for a couple hours. Last night was brutal.
I smile and nod, loving the new nickname he has for me. The smiles still feel foreign, but I’m getting used to it. The words though, they still elude me.
Gavin smiles back as his lashes rise and fall slowly, his green eyes so vibrant in the newborn light. He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and gently pulls me in closer, nestling my head into his neck. It’s a tender move, a caring move.
For a man who claimed he didn’t know how to be gentle, he’s taken to it quite well. Perhaps too well. At first, he wouldn’t sleep in the same bed with me. He insisted on sleeping on the cot. Said it was too soon. And I thought perhaps he was right. I even had trouble sleeping in the bed myself, and a few times Gavin woke up to find me curled up in a dark corner of the closet. Eventually though, I got to staying in my bed, and Gavin in the cot, but then the nightmares would come and he would find himself by my side, holding me, stroking my hair, whispering everything would be alright, until we eventually fell asleep together. So now, when it’s bedtime, he slides in next to me, but keeps a pillow between us. I know what he’s protecting me from. I’ve seen the strain against his boxer briefs, but he keeps it hidden from me as much as possible. And I’m okay with that. I’m certainly not ready for that, mentally or physically. My body is still healing. Just dressing and walking is an effort sometimes, but it’s getting better. Instead, for now, we just hang out, watch movies, read books, visit the horses. We simply exist, together. A sort of intimate getting to know each other, brought on by events too strange and disturbing to make sense of.
In a way, it feels like there’s a world out there we’ve slipped away from. I know his agent’s called a few times, but he ignores the calls. But it can’t go on forever. What happens when we have to leave this place, leave this
little sanctuary and head back into reality. He won’t just be mine anymore, if that’s what I can even call him now, he’ll be Gavin West, the movie star again. And technically, I’m married, and for the most part, homeless.
We haven’t really talked much about the future. It’s almost as if we’re both still just trying to find our bearings after that night. Still trying to come to terms with the situation we find ourselves in now. But even so, I haven’t been able to forget what he said to me all those months ago. A fling. That’s all it’ll be. That’s all I have room for.
I know it’s become more than that. Much more. But part of me wonders if it weren’t for all the craziness that happened, would he still have stuck around. Or does he feel himself bound by some sense of duty, after what happened, and perhaps a need to protect me the way he ended up protecting his mom.
The thought makes me shiver, causing him to lift my chin so he can see my eyes. “You cold?”
I shake my head and watch him while he studies me, searching for whatever memories might be lurking in my mind. There are such sweet intentions behind his gaze, but there’s no missing the tension, the lines of restraint that have been etched into his face these past couple weeks. It’s not sexual though. It’s deadly. It’s the elephant in the room we both ignore.
He must sense my thoughts, as he lets my chin go and places a soft kiss on my forehead. It’s a move to distract, to set me off course. He’s been unnervingly distant on the topic of Shayne. Detective Miller, who was here just a couple days ago, said there’s still been no sign of him. But I know Shayne won’t go far. He’ll come for me. He’ll find me. I know he will. It’s just a matter of time.
And in some ways, I think Gavin’s been hoping he’ll show. Hoping he can take that final swing at him and send him to his grave. He’s not said as much, but he doesn’t have to. It’s there, in the way his gaze turns distant, the way he wails on the punching bag in the exercise room, the way his jaw clenches when he sees the marks on my body. They’re healing, but they’re a reminder…a reminder of what I went through. And in many ways, Gavin feels responsible.
It’s strange, really. The timing of it all. The way Gavin came for me when he did. I wasn’t going to survive that night. The beast was lost. So lost. I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing now. I can’t help but wonder how he is. I still have that image in my head, of him staggering, and his voice too, calling for me, that I hear constantly. But they’re things I try not to think about, because the feelings that come with them are too confusing. Those dark, strange feelings that live inside me, gnawing away at me. Part of me knows I shouldn’t feel this way, after all he’s done to me. But I can’t help it. I’m bound to him now. And I can’t help but feel like I left him in hell. A hell that was created by a sick father and a neglectful mother. And me. The one who broke her word. The one who broke his heart.
And then there’s Red, who’s constantly in my mind. The one who gave his life for me. The one who turned on his best friend, so I could be free. Gavin said he loved me. Gavin said he’d always loved me.
The pit in my stomach grows and the tears well, blurring the sunrise. So much violence. So much loss. It’s so tempting to let the dark swallow me up, to simply give in and let the anger, and rage, and pain consume me. And sometimes it does. Sometimes I simply crumble and cry, but then strong arms wrap around me, followed by whispered words in a deep, familiar voice that always seem to cut through the madness. They soothe, they settle, they bring me back and remind me there is still good in this world. I just have to fight for it. I have to fight for it like my life depends on it. Which in many ways, it does.
I glance to Gavin, who sits quietly, his fingers still caressing my arm while I remain tucked up against him, warm and safe, a shelter from the recent past. His eyes are closed, those long lashes casting shadows along his skin. A dark stubble coats his jaw, while his messy, brown hair glints of amber and chocolate in the growing light. I can see the strain of these past couple weeks embedded into the rugged lines of his face. Even so, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I can’t help but think back to the first time I saw him. So angry. So beautiful. How fitting our worlds collided on a dark, stormy night.
A wayward thought enters my mind. It’s something I’ve never been able to figure out. I take the pen and write down my question on the notepad, then tap his shoulder and watch his eyes slowly open to the sky, now a vibrant swirl of pinks and baby blues. He looks down at the notepad.
How did you find me that first day?
“The registration in the car,” he says. “When you weren’t giving up any information on you, I got frustrated and texted Burt and had him write down the address. You’d said it was your neighbor’s car.” He smiles. “Hadn’t planned on using it. But as soon as you left my bed, I woke, and I knew right then I wasn’t going to be able to let you go.”
A bird chirps in the distance, then another, and another. The day is waking. My soul is healing.
Gavin presses his lips softly against my temple. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to let you go, Ava. I love you. I’ve loved you since I first saw you, stranded in the rain on the side of the freeway.” He sighs and leans his forehead against mine. “My tragic beauty.”
Tears surge and spill over, just as the sun breaks, sending a prism of bright light into my heart and deep into my soul, temporarily blinding the darkness within. He pulls back, pain seeping into his face while he gazes into my eyes.
So many different emotions go tearing through me, so much confusion over how I feel about Shayne, and everything that’s happened. But there is one thing I do know. Something I’ve known ever since that night too. And in many ways, it’s what’s kept me going, kept me from breaking and giving up.
I reach up and touch his cheek to let him know.
I love you, too.
Gavin sighs and closes his eyes, able to read me so well now. “It won’t be easy loving me, Ava,” he says, pulling back and meeting my gaze. “You may think I’m a hero, but I’m not. It’s something you need to remember. Right now, I’m being what I need to be, what you need me to be. But this isn’t my true nature. I don’t know how to love, how to be in love. All I know is how I feel, about you. It’s powerful…and terrifying.”
Gavin tightens his arm around me and leans in closer, a faint, almost chilling whisper drifting into my ear. “And God help anyone who ever tries to take you from me again.”
The End…for now.
*****
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*****
Coming soon…
HUNTED BEAUTY
*****
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PLAYLIST
These songs helped inspire Tragic Beauty,
in one way or another –
whether through the lyrics,
the mood, or simply the music.
Into Dust by Mazzy Star
Enter Sandman by Metallica
Sway by Blue October
Hunted Down by Soundgarden
Demons by Imagine Dragons
Green Eyes by Coldplay
Creep by Radiohead
Far Behind by Candlebox
The Beast In Me by Johnny Cash
Hurt by Johnny Cash
Fear by Blue October
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book has been a true labor of love that would n
ot have been possible without the help of so many people. First and foremost, Justin…my man, my lover, my soulmate, my best friend, my Sir. Without his unwavering belief in me, I would never have been able to bring this story to life. He is my very own dark knight, my hero, my muse, and most of all, my saint, for patiently listening to all my ramblings about the characters, the story, and my never ending bouts of self-doubt that he always seemed to be able to make disappear with simply a word or a caress.
Next, my family and friends, who were always there for me, offering encouragement and endless support for my writing, especially my darling girl, Gail, and my fellow author in crime, Mia.
Then there’s the Beta readers, who were there at the beginning and took a chance on an unknown author: Toni, Fani, Kirsten, Emma, Louisa, Ripley, and Wander. And my editor Joanne, who patiently helped a first time writer through the process. And my online friends, fans, bloggers, and fellow authors, who welcomed me with open arms, and who were essential in helping spread the word, especially Kathi, Maureen, and all the Dark Angels. And all my ARC readers, who left amazing reviews that started the buzz rolling, and who helped send me off on this amazing journey!
ABOUT IRIS ANN HUNTER
Iris Ann Hunter grew up with a love of books and a passion for writing, but it wasn’t until later in life, after working as a horse trainer, truck driver, and graphic designer, that she decided to pursue her dream to be a writer. Drawn towards the tortured, sometimes brutal side of human nature, she writes dark, twisted romance that explores the shadowy side of love and lust. Iris lives with her longtime lover in a seaside town along the Southern California coast.
Tragic Beauty Page 26
