by Danika Stone
“Your father does love you,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even. “I know that sounds crazy – but I think he actually does.... I… I think he’s even more messed up than you are, Cole.” She laughed harshly. “Totally fucked up. But I think he still loves you under all that.... bullshit and awful temper.”
Cole stood motionless, letting her embrace him. It reminded Ava of when Nina hugged him. He just disappeared inside himself, leaving her with a shell to hold. ‘Just like this house,’ Ava thought in dismay. Unsure what to do, she moved her arms around his shoulders, pulling him tighter. His arms were no longer pinned, but he didn’t move. She realized he was waiting out her attempt at reciprocation. Ava knew that the moment she let go, he would walk out, and he wouldn’t come back. Seconds ticked by... Cole’s face was impassive, his gaze on the door, like he wasn’t really there at all.
Waiting…
With a frustrated hiss, Ava slid her hands up his shoulders and neck, pulling his face forward to kiss him. At first, it was like Cole was underwater, his body somewhere else, and she was trying to relay one-sided emotions. Her lips moved against his mouth, but there was no response. Her tongue darted out to tease him, but his lips were sealed. Sighing in aggravation, Ava kissed him harder, her hands fisting his shirt, pulling him tight against her, tongue pushing against the barrier of his lips. There was a waver in his posture... almost imperceptible... and then Cole came crashing back like a tidal wave.
He moaned, deep and raw, his arms coming up to crush her against him. She gasped as his mouth slanted against hers; their tongues and teeth clashed together roughly. He was desperate and angry. All the emotions from the last hours now flowed between the two of them in a riptide of needs and desires. Ava heard Cole’s bag drop, forgotten, onto the floor. He began walking her backward across the room, his tongue in her mouth, hands tugging off her clothes as they moved.
Feeling the edge of the bed hit the back of her knees, Ava sat, watching as Cole pulled his shirt and shorts off. His eyes were troubled, the planes and angles of his face harder than usual. His mouth moved against hers, tongue pushing past her lips to taste her. Possess her. Ava tipped back onto the bed, overwhelmed by his demanding kisses, while Cole’s hands slid under her t-shirt, shoving it out of the way. Laying across the bed, she struggled out of her pants and panties, moving up toward the pillows to give them room. All the while he was kissing her, frantic and desperate.
She let go of his mouth to pull her shirt off. Cole straddled her as she lay back down, leaning over to remove her bra. His hands were forceful, tearing the bra up away, then dropping his face down to her neck and breasts. Ava gasped as he pulled her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard; the fingers of his other hand kneaded her breast, then switched. Cole growled in the back of his throat, harsh and urgent. His fingers pinched roughly and Ava yelped, squirming under him.
He moved over her now, kissing her hard. Her body struggled to keep up, her fingers running along the muscles and lines of his body, fingernails scraping across his back. Things were moving too fast, and she knew it wouldn’t be long until he was inside her. She had the absent thought that she was glad she was on the pill now (she didn’t know how she’d slow him down long enough to think about protection if she wasn’t). Cole moved lower, and she knew that it would be just seconds. She tried to wiggle out, wanting to climb on top, but he leaned down, face near her ear.
“No,” he ordered, the stubble of his unshaven jaw scraping against her cheek.
He kissed her again, his mouth plundering hers, taking pleasure as he went. His hands slipped up her arms to wrap his fingers with hers, pinning their combined fists onto the sheet of the bed, holding her still. He was in control here. She could feel Cole’s thigh nudging her knees apart; moving to brush against the wet heat of her core, poised at the entrance to her body, just barely inside her. Ava was still struggling with the speed with which things were moving. It felt like being battered by a sudden storm, but suddenly Cole wasn’t moving at all. He stopped altogether, his fingers still tightly wrapped with hers as he lifted his face. Ava’s eyes fluttered open, catching sight of him watching her, his eyes turbulent and dark. She took an involuntary breath. It was hard to see him so... raw... like this.
“I love you, Ava,” he growled, his face dropping closer to hers. “I love you more than I can say… and maybe I should have said it before tonight, and maybe I shouldn’t have...” His voice was aching, words sharp. “But it’s true… and I want you to know that it’s true!”
Once, long ago, she’d wondered what it would be like to have Cole’s intensity focused on her alone. Now she knew...
She swallowed hard, panicking under the onslaught of emotions. He stared down at her with such pain and honesty that she felt her eyes prickling with tears. The need to run had risen to a roar inside her, leaving her breathing in shallow pants.
“I… I love you too,” she whispered, voice breaking.
Before the last word had passed through her lips, Cole’s mouth was back on hers. He pushed into her, the impossibly tight sensation leaving Ava moaning into his mouth, her fingers tightening against his. He set a hard pace, pumping against her hips roughly enough she thought she’d have bruises. She could feel release nearing, the drugged pleasure of her body rising in waves, starting to chafe at her senses, removing all thought. Her body was flushed and overheated, her hips desperately trying to keep up with Cole’s gruelling pace. Each thrust left her gasping; dots of light, like a distant harbour, flickering behind her lids. She could hear the hiss of rain again – memories from earlier tonight mixing with the present – like a storm breaking around her.
He released her hands to touch her; his thumb worked its way between them, caressing her roughly. Ava moaned and Cole’s mouth dropped back to her neck, nipping and sucking while her cries grow louder and more frantic. Her legs twitched with sharp jabs of pleasure, orgasm hovering just out of reach. He moved back to her mouth, kissing her deeply, his thrusts moving in time to his tongue as the sensation dragged her under, waves of pleasure crashing over her, dragging her down.
“Cole, oh God, Cole...” she cried, her body going limp. Behind her closed lids, the storm reached its peak. Cole shouted in pleasure, shuddering, and then slid off. Things were suddenly quiet; Cole’s arms wrapped around her, his mouth against her ear.
“I love you,” he repeated, his voice ragged and broken. “I have always, always, loved you, Ava.”
She blinked back tears, her chest aching with something.
“I know…”
Chapter 26: Safe Harbour
Ava Brooks was dreaming (but, of course, she didn’t know that).
She was walking down a cobbled road, arm in arm with a man. Her threadbare grey cloak, simple woollen dress and thin linen undergarments, were serviceable and clean, but did little to keep the chill out of her bones. The muddy street was busy with dirty-faced people coming and going, water soaking through her boot soles, leaving her feet numb.
She glanced over, expecting to see Cole.
‘Kip…?’
Ava blinked in confusion. This was Jon. She knew it was Jon, just as she knew that they’d just married this morning. His brown hair was combed severely back from his face, the white minister’s collar peeking out from beneath his topcoat. ‘Yes,’ Ava thought, ‘that’s right… Jon. My husband.’ He’d wanted the marriage performed before they’d left; today was her wedding day. “So we start out together,” he’d told her. She smiled nervously, glancing around as they walked. They were headed somewhere important.
‘A new beginning,’ her mind whispered.
“Please, sir,” an elderly woman in rags called. “Whatev’r you can spare.”
She stepped in front of them, stopping their progress. Her fingers were blue with cold, her aged body hunched against the wind. Ava realized that if she was cold with her dress and cape, this woman must be freezing. She reached guiltily for the fob at her throat, but Jon was faster. He pressed a coin into the
woman’s hand, then pulled Ava away before the older woman could ask for more.
“Thank y’kindly!” the woman called, her voice thready on the wind. “God bless ye both!”
“Just a bit further,” Jon said, turning to smile encouragingly, “just past this next street, my dear.”
He had, Ava saw, a blackened eye. ‘The fight yesterday,’ her mind whispered. Yes, that was right. It wasn’t just the journey… Thomas had been part of the reason for Jon’s insistence on the wedding. Remembering it now – the two of them bloodied and roaring – her heart began to thud. She hated that it had come to this. Hated that she was tangled in the middle of it all.
“We all used to be friends,” she muttered, the words hidden the wind. Her tears wicked away before they could pool in her eyes.
Up ahead, the crowds were growing thicker. If she’d had a purse, she would have had to hide it – pickpockets and thieves were thick here – but Ava’d come to her marriage without dower. (‘Only myself to sell…’) Amid the din of people, the busy port was audible, and above that, the faint rush of the sea. Ava blinked back tears, a feeling of heartsick longing wrapping tight around her. This was the right choice. A woman’s choice. To make the best of what God had given her.
In her case, it hadn’t been much.
Childhood fancies had died quickly. She and Thomas might love each other, but he was, as her mother had reminded her, as poor as the church mice in Jon’s parsonage. Jon’s hand was tight and possessive as he dragged her forward. The two of them side by side, heading to the new land. (Thomas had also acquired passage on the second boat, she knew, but didn’t say. Her sister had told her this morning as she’d pressed the small carved bird into her hand.)
Beyond them, there was shouting, and the crowd parted, giving them a view of the waterfront. The boats were cluttered together, masts stretching up to the heavens. Ava’s heart tightened in despair. They were nothing like her father's fishing boat. Jon turned, smiling down at her.
“Almost there now,” he said happily. “Those boats will take us across the sea to the Americas.” His hand tightened on her arm. “To do God’s work… to bring the heathens into the fold.”
Ava nodded, her gaze lifting above the tangle of masts and soot-stained buildings. There was a single seabird – a gannet – wheeling in the sky. Her free hand tightened against her pocket where the crude carving of the bird was tucked away in the folds of her cloak: Thomas’ last gift. The bird above circled over it all… free. For a brief, desperate moment, she wished herself up in the clouds, too.
‘Away… away… away…’ her mind whispered.
She’d made the prayer any number of times since her father had died, and the need to find a suitable husband had begun pressing at her. (Her mother could only support so many mouths, after all.) Jon paused, allowing a tightly-packed carriage to pass, and Ava’s eyes dropped down. Mud caked the bottom of her cloak, the hem of her dress sodden and dripping.
It was a foolish prayer. God never listened.
: : : : : : : : : :
Time rippled and changed. Ava’s vision fluttered, unhinged in the way that dreams often are. Her consciousness passed through a series of memories, like glimpses of half-developed photographs, or snatches of conversation heard in passing – not staying or participating – just hovering nearby. Emotions rose up in colours and flashes. Love and lust, loss and grief. In this muted half-life, Ava moved forward like a ghost, unseen by others, but watching it unfold before her, separate from herself.
She watched the two boats leave the safety of the harbour, the journey passing over weeks and months, dreams and disappointments shifting and changing. In her ear, a single prayer repeated in litany, the coils of it wrapping round the twin vessels, guiding them forward. ‘Away… away… away…’ On the horizon, clouds began to rise.
There were bright flashes of lightning, and the delayed growl of thunder. For a moment, she could hear the hiss of rain. Somewhere, Ava thought in surprise, there’d been a dark room with a man hidden in the shadows. She pressed forward, seeking him out, but he wasn’t there.
There was only more darkness.
‘A storm is coming…’ Ava’s mind whispered anxiously.
: : : : : : : : : :
When Jon came back down off the deck, she knew that it was the end. He’d sworn that he would pray for their salvation, that he would not leave the deck… but he was here. He stood in the doorway, water sloshing across the floor with each heave.
“We’re lost,” he gasped. “She’s gone onto the rocks.”
Ava knew this. She’d felt the deep shudder tear through the beams underneath her, had known the frisson of terror and then a sudden understanding. ‘My father’s there,’ her mind had offered. If she’d said it aloud, Jon would’ve taken it as a sign of her belief. He would have been wrong. It was her own father she longed for… the one she’d thought of in the last, endless hours, as the ship was battered to pieces within sight of land.
“Pray with me,” Jon murmured. Ava pushed past him instead, heading up the listing stairs, aiming for the deck. If she was going to drown, she’d do it out in the air. Thomas was somewhere out there too. They’d lost sight of the second boat hours ago, but she knew the way she knew her own heart was still beating: he was alive.
Being on the deck was certain death. (So was being below decks.) The floor tipped sideways as water filled the inner holds. Behind Ava, the stairwell was cluttered with screaming people clambering upward, desperate and terrified. She couldn’t hear over the raging wind, the roaring sea. Her eyes became her ears now. She saw people praying, sailors gesturing as they tried to control the boat. A wave slapped over the edge, dousing her. She caught herself against the railing. Two steps away, the captain was still at the wheel, two men alongside him, fighting to steer the scuttled ship.
‘Too late,’ an inner voice cried.
There was a deafening crack as the mast shattered. The sudden shift in balance sent Ava and the others on deck tumbling over the edge as the great ship groaned like a dark sea beast, then settled onto its side. She came up gasping, her eyes darting around in terror. The icy water broke her stupor, and she thrashed blindly, kicking with all her might. She could smell smoke, flickering yellow and orange like flowers appearing on the slick black side of the ship. The water was alive with people screaming, the horror of the storm slashing at them. Flotsam slammed against her, bludgeoning her chest and limbs. With strength born out of terror, she grabbed onto a plank of wood, holding on with white-knuckled fingers.
One of the casks of gunpowder inside the ship caught hold and exploded. The furious sea threw Ava forward, then tossed her back as the ship moaned again and half-righted itself before breaking along its spine. The water swirled once more, the surging wave sending her toward the front of the ship.
Above the deafening roar of the storm, there was the sound of wood snapping. Gasping and coughing, Ava reached the top of the wave, her eyes widening in horror. The winged figurehead was looming toward her, falling into the sea. An angel of death.
“No, please, God!” she cried as the figure swooped down, the solid weight snapping her back as it landed, pushing her under.
Somewhere in the churning water, a man was calling her name.
: : : : : : : : : :
She lay in a shimmering field of gold, grass dancing around the periphery of her vision, light through the trees filtered in hazy bands. Thomas was nearby, his face in bluish shadow. She wasn’t asleep or awake, but simply floating, her body numbed and peaceful.
‘Away…’ her mind whispered, remembering, for a moment, a single bird wheeling in the sky.
There was a river in the distance which headed to the ocean. A scattering of rugged coastal trees clung to the shores, their yellow leaves ragged and torn after last night’s storm. Somehow, Ava knew that from above, the river looked like a blue snake winding through a scattering of gold coins. She could trace the shape of it with her hand, she knew it so well. Could ha
ve painted it if she’d wanted.
‘I have painted it before,’ she thought.
It was peaceful here. Trees bowed and swayed in the wind, all sound gone, replaced by heavy silence. She could imagine the hiss of them rushing together, like the sound of rain on water, or perhaps something else. ‘I remember a sound...’ she thought, ‘but it was in darkness then... and there were children’s voices too...’ She couldn’t place the memory, but it seemed important. She wished she could remember.
‘Away… away…’
The silence was comforting at the end of the journey. She was almost happy. Almost, because Thomas was sitting beside her, grief-stricken, but she knew she couldn’t stay with him. It was time to go.
His face contracted in grief, and with that, all of her being shifted under the waxing glow of morning sun. The person she was ceased to be. Ava was free. In the golden field, she lifted up and away, her vision expanding outward, sound returned. Below her was the shape of the snake and the coins.
‘Away… away… away...’
She heard Thomas sobbing and for a long second, Ava hovered nearby, the wind on his cheek a final kiss goodbye. She faded, the vibrations of life like ripples on a pond spreading away, then stilling once more.
Her last conscious thought was of him... this moment of time mingling with her soul, leaving an indelible imprint.
‘Love you.’
And then she was gone.
Chapter 27: Breakthrough
Cole woke to the quiet sounds of ...something.
He blinked as he struggled to get his bearings. He knew he was in the guest suite at his father’s house, the windows on the side and near the door lending light to the room. Ava’s body was warm next to him. It was still early, not quite morning, the darkness only starting to bruise to blue and green at the edges.
He heard it again. Rolling onto his side, Cole saw that Ava was no longer sleeping. She was turned toward the far side of the bed, curled up in a ball. She had a handful of sheets pressed to her mouth as she tried to muffle her sobs.
