Ava
Etta stood at the bar talking to the barmaid. By their friendliness, it was evident that she was a regular. So far, she was still unaware of mine and Mason’s presence, and that was the way we needed to keep it for the moment.
Mason and I slid quietly from the pub, luckily unseen, and hastily walked around the corner to our hotel.
“It can’t be this easy,” I stated as I threw my bag onto the bed and slipped my shoes off.
“It probably isn’t,” Mason offered with a small sigh. “She didn’t have her son with her, and we need to be careful not to scare her off before we can determine where he is.”
Nodding in agreement, I walked into the bathroom and started the shower, running the water through as I stripped off my clothes. Although the hotel was clean, it was old, and the plumbing left a lot to be desired.
The running water muted the sounds from the bedroom, but there was no mistaking Mason’s hushed but urgent voice. Popping my head around the door to catch what he was saying, I found him pacing the room and mumbling on his phone.
“Well if me and my wife can find her so easily, I can’t help but question your capability to do your job, and my capability to pay you for services UNdelivered.”
Rolling my eyes at his tone, I left him to rant and stepped under the stream of water trickling out of the showerhead.
My thoughts moved to Etta. She hadn’t appeared to age at all. I could see George’s fascination with her. She was pretty, that was for sure, but I knew she used her looks to get her whatever she wanted. My son included.
Seeing her in the pub, my heart had sunk when I realised my grandson wasn’t with her. We were so close, yet I knew we were also so far away. We would have to be patient if we had any hope of seeing him.
Pain stabbed my chest and tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t even know my grandson’s name, or whether he resembled my son in any way. He was all we had left of George now, and I was determined if it took my last breath, that I would find him.
I had to wonder what Mason had planned though. Did he want our grandson in our life for occasional weekends and holidays away? Or was his purpose to take him away from Etta and take full custody?
If I was honest with myself, I wasn’t sure how I felt about either scenario. I had no doubt that Etta was still involved in the family business, trafficking not only drugs but young girls, and although that didn’t put her in stead for mother of the year, it wasn’t proof that she didn’t love her son. After all, were Mason and I not top of the list for unsuitable parents? George taking his own life was a testament to the fact we had failed at providing a stable home for our own children. Did we even deserve to bring our grandchild up? Plus, in the depths of my heart, I knew how George felt about his father, and would he want Mason and I to bring up his child?
There were so many questions filtering through my mind, the voice in my head loud with so many what ifs, that I was unaware Mason had stepped into the small shower cubicle behind me.
“You okay?” he asked, resting his chin on my shoulder.
While I knew our naked bodies, pressed so close to one another wouldn’t lead to anything more than a hug, I couldn’t help the deep pull of desire curdling in the pit of my belly when I felt the firmness of Mason’s body press against me. I missed the closeness we had once shared through sex, an outlet for our many emotions released with the pleasure we gave one another.
I nodded, not replying to his question vocally and shuffled around when he picked up the bottle of shampoo. His soft grey eyes locked onto mine, the ache in his soul a reflection of my own, and he ran his thumbs under each of my eyes, collecting the stray tears that had fallen. “I know you’re hurting, baby.” He sighed at length, the sound of his pain making my heart clench even tighter.
Moaning in appreciation when he applied a liberal amount of shampoo into the palm of his hands and started to massage my scalp, I closed my eyes and focussed on the intimate touch of my husband.
Turning me back around so that my back was to his front again, his caress moved from my head to my shoulders where he started to knead the tension. The pads of his thumbs worked at the nape of my neck as his fingertips pummelled my shoulders. “Relax, baby,” he whispered, the warmth of his breath in my ear making me shiver with the sensation that rolled over me. “The stress in your muscles will give you a migraine.”
My lips parted as a long groan of need escaped me, and I pushed my backside into the dip of his pelvis. I couldn’t help it, I was so turned on. I felt him stiffen behind me, and not in the right way. My stomach vaulted, and tears resurfaced, and as I tried to silently swallow the shame down, the loud gulp was all that could be heard in the thick of my humiliation.
“Ava…” My name from Mason’s lips said with so much guilt and heartache had me forcing my thoughts into the dark space in my head. It was always safe there, the black recess shrouding me in nothingness and allowing me to push everything away and centre myself in the void.
Shaking my head, I cleared my throat and forced a smile before turning to face him. “I’m sorry. Ignore me.” Moving his hands from my shoulders, I turned my back on him and took over washing my hair.
When he opened the glass screen and climbed out, I shivered with the chill that enveloped me, although it had nothing to do with the draft of cool air that he let in.
♡
Pulling my coat tighter around me, warding off the chill in the air, I watched the waves crash against the harbour wall. It was surprising how something so violent could instil a feeling of deep calm. Quirking an eyebrow at my thoughts, I scoffed loudly when I realised that was how I felt about all aspects of violence, especially if I was the one dishing out it out.
Nothing much had changed since I had last visited Kirkingham. The town had refused to move with time, still stuck in the past. Then I had been a teenager, struggling through life and fighting to survive. Now, thirty years on, I was a woman struggling through life and fighting to survive. If it weren’t so dire, I would have laughed.
The harbour lights twickled their reflection in the water, the rainbow of colour rippling on the top like a Christmas town resided under the depth, and I tried to draw from the serenity it offered. Yet the more my mind worked, the more my rabid guilt transformed the rippling reflection into a gruesome image, my tainted soul spilling across the surface of the sea and drowning in all that my life had been.
Was it too late to start afresh? Mason was adamant that this was what we needed. However, I wasn’t so sure.
“Ava?”
I blinked, shaking my thoughts away as I turned towards the voice.
A man stood beaming at me, the darkness doing nothing to shield the blaring whiteness of his perfect teeth. His shoulder length blonde hair whipped around his face, the wind making it its own personal toy. His broad chin was cleanly shaven, and his sharp cheekbones sculptured his masculinity like he’d just stepped off the front page of GQ magazine. His face seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t fathom how I knew him.
“Jesus, it is you,” he exclaimed, his grin becoming impossibly wider.
I stared at him rudely, racking my memories for even a hint of him, but still unable to place who the hell he was.
Chuckling at my blank expression, he took a step closer to me. “Danny Walker.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, surprise making me rear back. “Bloody hell!”
He laughed and drew me into a hug. “How the hell haven’t you changed?” he asked when he released me, and his gaze took all of me in. “You still look like the sixteen-year-old girl I was besotted with.”
Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t help but blush at his charm.
“Evidently, if your blank expression is anything to go by, I haven’t aged quite as well as you,” he teased.
“I’m so sorry. It seems to be the week for going back in time,” I stated cryptically, causing him to frown. “So, how are you? And how come you’re in Kirkingham?”
“Visiting my folks,” he explained. “My dad’s just had a heart op, so I’m taking care of him for a little while.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
He smiled. “He’s fine. Strong as an ox. The bastard will outlive me.”
Gesturing with his chin towards a pub that sat on the harbour front, he raised his eyebrows in question. Never one to refuse the offer of alcohol, I smiled and swept out my hand. “Lead the way.”
Two hours later, I was well on my way to being drunk. Danny had plied me with many vodka cranberries, and the edges were starting to blur a little. He was alert, I’d give him that. Before my glass was empty, he’d signalled to the bartender and another full glass magically appeared.
We were laughing at a joke when a shiver worked its way up my spine and a chill settled in the atmosphere.
Without looking up, I knew he was there.
“Mason!” I greeted loudly with a broad grin. “Baby, come and meet my friend.”
Danny blinked as though he was confused when Mason slid his body onto a chair next to me and opposite Danny. I could feel the fury pouring from him, but my mind was too muddled to decipher exactly why he was angry.
“Danny, this is my husband, Mason,” I introduced. “Mason, this is Danny, an old friend of mine.”
“Seems to be the week for all your friends to be popping up, huh?” Mason stated as he slipped an arm around my shoulder and pulled my body close to his.
“I know!” I agreed. “That’s what I said. Isn’t it, Dan?”
Danny barely nodded, his cool gaze watching Mason like he was the second coming, awe and genuine curiosity bold across his features. Mason, as usual, just looked grumpy.
“Shame you didn’t consider letting me know that another friend had miraculously popped up and forced you into the pub, Ava.”
“Oh.” I squinted at my phone. “I thought I’d texted you. Sorry. My bad.”
He grumbled something I didn’t catch before slowly moving his gaze from me to Danny. “So, how do you know my wife, Danny?” There was a faint undercurrent of animosity in Mason’s tone, and I frowned, baffled by his hostility.
“Ava and I used to date.”
Apparently, that was not the right thing to say going by the look on Mason’s face.
He nodded slowly and mumbled an ‘mm-hmm’. “And what brings you to Kirkingham?” Mason asked, before adding, “Apart from to reconnect with your childhood sweetheart.”
I barked out a laugh. “We were hardly childhood sweethearts, baby. We just fu….” I clamped my mouth closed and cleared the lump from my throat as I lowered my eyes to the table. I was surprised to see how many empty glasses had accumulated. Well, shit! Had we really drunk that many?
A smirk curled one edge of Danny’s lips as he brought his eyes back to my face. “I’d say we were more than ‘just fucking’, Ava. If I remember, I asked you…”
“Okay!” I suddenly announced, shooting upright. “We better call it a night. Busy day tomorrow. Haven’t we, Mason?”
Crossing his arms across his broad chest, Mason quirked a single eyebrow at me. “Nothing that can’t wait, baby.” Turning his attention back to Danny, he tipped his head and said, “Sorry, you were saying?”
Tugging on Mason’s hand, I feigned a yawn. “But I’m really tired. And I can feel a headache coming on.”
“Women!” Danny mocked. “Always that same headache at night, eh?”
The atmosphere grew thick when it was only Danny that laughed at his joke. The thought of ‘Well, Mason’s had a headache every night for the last six months,’ popped into my head. Luckily, I wasn’t intoxicated enough for it to slip out of my mouth.
“Oh,” Danny stated when I finally managed to pull Mason out of his seat. “Guess I’ll catch you later.”
“Mm,” Mason grumbled under his breath. “Guess so, Thor.”
Grimacing and praying Danny hadn’t heard Mason, I raised a hand without casting a glance back and dragged my glorious bastard out of there.