Keeping Ava

by Elena M. Reyes

  “You’re a fucking idiot, Ford.”

  “Answer me, cocksucker,” I seethe. “Where is he!”

  “Home is where the heart is,” is all he says before firing another shot; it hits my vest-covered chest and throws me back, but not before I answer with one of my own. This one reciprocates where his landed on mine, except there’s no vest to stop it.

  Blood pours from the wound and he falls, the gun slipping from his fingertips. It lands and goes off, but no one is hurt. Instead, it breaks a window of what looks to be a small office. Another female screams. Another victim?

  My ears are ringing, and I shake my head to dispel it—trying to make sure that what I think is a scream isn’t the aftereffect of being shot at. It doesn’t take me long to figure out that it’s not, and without thought, I stand on wobbling legs, rushing toward what could be a possible second victim. Disoriented, I kick the door open with my Glock in hand.

  The room is small, smells of weed, and hiding someone that I never expected to meet.

  “Rose Marshall?” Christ, this is going to hurt Ava. The woman looks afraid, terrified, but not because she’s been hurt. No. This one has some explaining to do. The way she’s dressed, the loud music coming from an expensive Bose speaker, and the high-as-a-kite look in her glassy eyes tells me this woman was here of her own free will.

  She helped them.

  “How do you know my name?” Her voice is shaky, body slightly trembling as she moves her arm to reach for something at her waist. A gun.

  “Touch that, and I will be forced to shoot,” I hiss out, already raising my own toward her. “Don’t force my hand, Rose. Use your head here.”

  “Where’s Officer Salcedo and Meyers?” And there is my connection. “I’m his girlfriend and this is—”

  “You’re under arrest for the aiding and abetting of a fugitive. For being an accomplice in the murder of—”

  “Where the fuck is my boyfriend?” she spits out, frantic as her eyes dart past me where there’s another commotion. Sirens are getting closer, and from the way I see an officer carry out a small body in his arms from the corner of my eye, I breathe out in relief. Karla was here, and we’ve got her. “You can’t do this to us. Ava needs this.”

  I can’t stop my glare or the curl of my lip over my teeth. If looks could kill, she’d be dead.

  Before she can try and fight me or reach for that gun at her waist, I’m on her, her hands behind her back, my grip tight as I cuff her. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you—”

  “Jason loves her and will make everything right between us.” Tears run down her face now, leaving tracks of mascara in their wake. “She’s my best friend. We all miss her.”

  Delusional bitch really thinks they care about them? She’s just another pawn in this game to them.

  I almost pity her. Almost.

  Gritting my teeth, I continue to read her rights. “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”

  “Please,” she whispers low, the reality of just how fucked she is beginning to sink in. “Where’s my Anthony?”

  There’s not a single ounce of remorse in me as I stare into her eyes and say the one word that will break her heart. Not when they didn’t care about Ava or her mental state. Not when they terrorized and killed so many innocent women.

  “Dead.”

  “Anything new?” I ask Gomez, the officer who’s been interrogating a still wailing Rose—off and on for about an hour now—since we’ve been back in San Diego. She’s inconsolable and wants my head. Been screaming obscenities that no one pays a lick of mind to.

  What we want is answers. To stop Jason before he reaches Ava.

  Then, there’s also my desire to get back to her. It’s an almost uncontrollable need. A compulsion that’s driving me insane as we wait. As I follow orders.

  My job requests that I stay, but my loyalty has shifted and is with Ava.

  Moreover, until Rose speaks up, Perez has me here. Waiting. Helping to put together a map to pinpoint his exact location.

  He’s been warned, too. I give him another twenty minutes, and I am out. Fuck them all.

  “Just that we’re pricks and murderers.”

  I shake my head, picking up my bottle of water to take a sip. “What about Meyers?”

  “MIA for two days now.” At least we have a connection now. Know where to start. “We have a squad car on the way to his home...picking up the wife and kids. That’ll draw him out.”

  I’m not so sure, but don’t voice it. Instead, I look back down at notes and the latest information uncovered. The connection between Meyers and Salcedo.

  Both were on the force a few years back in Lubbock, and partners at that. How Salcedo took the fall for Meyers during a sting operation focused on crooked officers taking bribes from a Mexican Cartel near the border trafficking through their city. One was terminated and served some time, while the other asked for a transfer here.

  Meyers flew under the radar and kept to himself a lot. Blending in. Not calling attention to himself while Salcedo waited. Planned.

  Asking now for the help Jason needed in order to be a step ahead of every department. That’s how he escaped and evaded capture. Meyers was his eyes and ears.

  And yet, I still feel as though I am missing something...

  “Have Stein and McGrady been made aware of the situation?”

  Gomez nods. “Yes.”

  “Has Karla woken up in the hospital?” Perez interjects from behind me, placing his cup on the desk I’ve been using. “Did she hear anything that might be useful?”

  “Unfortunately, no. She’s still out and pretty banged up. Rose did a number on her, sir.”

  “Christ.” I say, my disgust evident. “What’s the prognosis?”

  “Karla will recover. None of her injuries were life threatening.”

  “And Rose?” I rub a tired hand down my face.

  “She admitted to her part in all of this.” Gomez pulls out his recorder and hits play, letting us hear her for ourselves. How she used a baseball bat on her. How she found her cries of pain amusing. How she pushed the end of her lit joint into her skin, laughing as the skin sizzled and scarred. “Her lawyer is with her now, and we think they’ll try to plead insanity—that she is a victim.”

  I’ll be fucked if that happens. Karma is a bitch, and she’ll get hers by the judge’s hand or those on the inside.

  And it’s as that thought crosses my mind that another hits. Louder. Blaring across all processors, and I could just fucking shoot myself for not picking up on it earlier.

  Anthony told me. All but laughed about it in my face.

  Home is where the heart is.

  “Motherfuck,” I hiss out, rushing past everyone and toward the parking lot. Perez and Gomez are behind me, yelling my name, but I can’t stop. Not when I’ve been so fucking stupid. When I put her life in danger.

  “What the fuck, Ford? Where are you going?” Perez yells from behind me as I click the fob in my hand and the lights of my Camaro turn on near the station’s entrance. “Stop.”

  I’m inside my car before they can reach me, engine running before lowering my window. “He’s here in San Diego. We need to go!”

  “We don’t know for sure. Don’t know where he could be—”

  My phone rings then interrupting him. At once, dread fills me and my chest becomes tight as I pull out my cell and hit accept. “Baby?” I breathe out, not giving a fuck who hears. Nothing but Ava matters. What sounds like a shot being fired confirms my worst nightmare even before she speaks. “Ava, what’s happening? I’m on my way back...it was all a—”

  “He’s here, Eli. He found me.”

  Chapter 16

  Elijah

  I’ve broken every traffic law on my way home. A ride that norma
lly takes twenty today I’ve done in seven, counting down every second in between.

  Perez and Gomez are behind me in an unmarked SUV and blaring their signal. Most people that make way for us look at my car as though I’m a fleeing criminal, and had this been any other day, I would’ve found it amusing.

  Not today. Not when the love of my life is alone and scared.

  When she could be—

  No. I won’t let my thoughts travel to the worst-case scenario. She has to be okay.

  There is no other option.

  Life couldn’t be so cruel as to gift me Ava and then take her away.

  Grabbing my phone, I send Perez a text, telling him to cut the siren off. We’re a street from my building, and the last thing we want is to alert Jason of our presence. All I have on my side is the act of surprise, and I plan to use it.

  There’s a bullet with his name on it, and I want it lodged deep within his brain before he touches a hair on Ava’s head.

  “Lord, please don’t let him hurt her. Let me get there in time,” I say, throwing my car into park in front of my building. My eyes flick to the left and notice that Stein and McGrady’s car is still there, but with no sign of them inside.

  I pull out my gun and signal with my arm toward the car for Perez to follow up. My gut tells me there’s more than one rat in the building—a confirmation that is made a second later when Meyers himself walks around the corner with another man I’ve never seen before.

  They’re laughing. Wiping their hands on a cloth of some kind, but not before I catch sight of the red on their hands.

  “Those two dumb fucks were easy enough.”

  “Predictably boring,” Meyers says, chuckling as he looks toward his companion. “They were pigs in a slaughterhouse.”

  The man nods and shoots him a smirk. “And how long before we can bounce?”

  “Soon.” Meyers looks down at his hand, picking something out from underneath his nail bed. “Once the cunt...the fuck!” He doesn’t get to finish, eyes snapping up and going wide as his friend falls. Blood spreads rapidly, seeping from his chest and staining the concrete beneath him. His eyes go from the dead man to mine, and his entire body goes rigid, fear coloring his features. “Ford...Captain...what are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to finish this.” That’s all I say while placing my gun back in the holster. Then, before he can utter another word, I tackle his pathetic ass to the floor, landing a straight punch to his face. Then another. The bone crunches beneath my fingers, blood splattering against my skin. I revel in it. In his screams of pain. In his pathetic attempt to push me off.

  “Please.”

  “Fuck you,” I spit out, elbow coming down right across his cheek. A gash follows, large and stretching across his red skin. It’s not enough. Nothing but death will ever be.

  “Enough,” I hear Gomez yell, and I’m half tempted to laugh. I’m gone. Nothing but his death will satisfy my need for revenge. To pay him back for every life taken.

  He might not have killed them, but he helped. Blood is on his hands.

  Two hands grab me and I pull free, landing another blow to his already bruised face. And again.

  I don’t stop, and this time no one stops me until I’m satisfied. His head hits the concrete, bouncing a few times before I pull back. I’m silent as I stand, not looking at anyone—or at the few cruisers that have arrived since we got here—and walk to the entrance of the building.

  People call my name.

  Someone tries to pull me back.

  I’d kill them all if it came to it.

  The silence follows me up the stairs, every flight up taking me to another plane of anger. I’ve never experienced this level of ire. Of wanting to take a life.

  Every floor up fills my body with a pulsing energy. My muscles coil, limbs shaking.

  My floor is desolate when I reach it. Nothing.

  No signs of anyone.

  My door is closed, and just as I place my key inside the lock, the blast of a gun breaks the silence. It’s loud, and so is the pure scream of panic that comes from Ava’s body.

  Fuck the structure. I kick it in and rush toward the sound of her voice. They’re inside my room. The closer I get, the clearer I can hear his words. How he taunts her.

  “Come out, little one,” he croons just as I step within sight. He’s sitting on my bed, twirling his gun while watching the closet door. He doesn’t see me. Too sure of himself. “The faster I correct this defiant behavior, the happier you’ll be. A little pain for a lifetime of my love and devotion.”

  “Please stop,” I hear Ava cry out, the fear in her voice palpable. “Leave, and I won’t call the cops.”

  “Not until I break you, love. Until you bleed for me.” Jason looks a mess, dirty and desperate. His hand shakes as he points the gun toward the door, finger on the trigger. “We can do this the easy or hard way...your choice. Open the door, Ava, and I’ll begin to forgive you.”

  Jason still hasn’t noticed me. Something about the way he’s acting makes me think that he’s under the influence of a narcotic: eyes glassy and body slightly shaking.

  And it’s while his hand shakes and another bullet dislodges from the gun, that I fully enter the room. Ava screams from the other side, and the phone inside my pocket vibrates within seconds of my entry.

  Behind me I can hear the rest of our team pausing, waiting on my call, but my focus is on him.

  My target. The next body to fall.

  As that finger twitches again, ready to fire, I pull my own. Watching in almost slow motion as a bullet leaves my gun and flies through the air at a speed he can’t detect. It hits his side, right between his ribs, and he falls back onto my mattress.

  His shirt, old and dirty, is colored red, the splotch growing as the seconds tick by.

  His eyes shift to mine, surprised but not shocked to see me. Instead, a cruel smirk forms at his lips. “About time you showed up, Detective. Nice to see you again.”

  “Rot in hell.” I’m not playing his game. Instead, I pull the trigger again. And again. The second and third bullet hit his midsection, his body convulsing on the bed, and yet, Jason still fires his own weapon. It hits the drywall encasing the steel structure, and I reciprocate with the same amount of anger.

  I empty my clip as my girl yells from inside.

  Bullet after bullet enters his body and the fucker still rises from the bed. He comes toward me, bloody and knocking on death’s door, but unwilling to give up.

  Jason stumbles toward me, pointing his gun, but when he tries to fire back...nothing. He’s out of bullets and losing blood fast. One step forward becomes a crashing fall to the floor and still, I have no pity for a dying man.

  Fuck him.

  This pain is nothing compared to what the asshole deserves.

  Pulling the second of my guns from the holster, I stand over his semi-lifeless body. Our eyes meet. His next breath is almost choking, and still I fire once more. Right between the eyes.

  The small hole in his forehead is proof of his passing. One stuttered breath, and he’s gone.

  No longer a danger to my girl.

  Without pausing, I drop my weapon and rush toward the closet and bang on the door. “Baby, it’s me. Open, please.”

  “Eli?”

  “I’m here, love.” It takes a minute or two for her to open, but when she does, the relief in her eyes almost bowls me over. Ava flies into my arms, wrapping her small body around mine and clinging—holding me tight with her eyes closed as I turn her away from his lifeless form.

  She’s shaking. Afraid. Sobbing.

  “He...I...”

  “Shhhh,” I whisper against her forehead, my arms wrapping tight and giving her the comfort, she needs. “He’s dead. No more fear.”

  “Are you sure?” A tremor rocks her small body.

  “I swear.” With two fingers, I tip her face up and out of its hiding spot in my neck. Watery blue eyes meet mine, and as much of a pussy as this might make me seem,
in them I see my forever. Home. It’s a moment that tethers me to this earth solely so I can walk by her side. Those three words sit on my tongue, and although I’ve said them before, right this second, they take on a more profound meaning. Losing her would’ve killed me. Taken my very soul as I followed her into the next life. This courageous woman in my arms is my life. Everything. “Ava,” I choke up, hands trembling as I pull her impossibly closer. Press her heart against my beating one. “I love you. All of you. There is no one else for me in this life and every single one that follows.”

  “I love you, too. Christ, when he said that you—”

  “We’re here, and that’s all that matters. For the rest of our lives, it’ll be just you and me.”

  “Against the world.”

  “Something either of you want to explain?” Perez comes up behind me then, but I pay him no mind. While I hid this—our relationship—he hid his own. Not that I care, but I won’t let him be a hypocrite either.

  “Not really.”

  “Baby, I—”

  “Ford, you—”

  They both start, but I hold a hand up to silence the two. Walking out of the room and away from the last reminder of her nightmare, I take us into the living room and sit down with her in my lap. Perez follows, eyeing me, but takes a seat across from us.

  Watching. Gauging.

  “You know.” That’s all he says.

  “I do.” Ava stiffens but doesn’t leap up. To ease her tension, I bring a hand up and rub her back in slow and soothing strokes. It takes a minute or two, but she does calm down and then melts into me, burrowing against my chest as the stress of the day catches up.

  People come in and out of the apartment—cops and a medical team, all checking and documenting to corroborate my story and later, hers, with the physical evidence.

  No one speaks to us. They let us be for the time being, and I keep my eyes on Perez the entire time. Even raise a brow to help him get on with the explanation that, to be honest, isn’t needed, but I know he’ll give.

  “How?”

  “Looking into possible connections to the case; familial or friends.”