Gavin
I sit in a chair at Ava’s bedside, watching her while she sleeps. She lies quietly, breathing slow and steady, still under sedation. I take her right hand in mine—careful of her bruised wrist—and press it to my lips and close my eyes, trying hard not to think about the chaos of the last few days.
After I’d gone screeching up to the Emergency Room, staggering in with her limp body in my arms, both of us covered in blood, word had leaked I was there. Then it wasn’t just police everywhere, but reporters and paparazzi, too.
It was a fucking frenzy.
I hadn’t needed much, just some staples where a bullet tore a gash in my side, but Ava…poor Ava was carted off in front of me, looking like she was slipping away right before my eyes. There was so much blood. So much blood.
I’d tried to stop the bleeding in the car, knowing the nearest hospital was an hour away in either direction, but she was bleeding from everywhere—from her shoulder, between her legs, from cuts on her body. I did what I could for her, then stuffed a rag in my side and made the drive to Santa Barbara in half the time, but it was still the longest half hour of my life. Then there were those few hours, until I heard from the doctor that she was going to be okay, that were a living hell like I’ve never known.
They kept her under heavy sedation to help her get through the worst of the pain, but once her vitals were stable and they were planning on letting her come around, I’d wanted to take her out of there. Not just so she could have some peace and quiet to recover and wake up to, but to keep her safe. I’d told the doctor’s as much, but they wouldn’t release her, even though I said I had private care ready for her. I wasn’t family, they said, and she wasn’t awake to give permission. That’s when I’d called Damian, and he made some calls, and at three in the morning, after I’d put on a disguise—a fucking disguise—and she was given a final dose of sedative, she was wheeled out a private entrance and into a van I drove myself, to Damian’s estate, making sure we weren’t followed.
When I passed the armed guards and the gates closed behind me, I knew we’d slipped away safely. Not just because of what I’d snuck away from, but because aside from those guards and some others patrolling the estate, Damian sent the rest of his staff on an open-ended vacation until things settle, ensuring no one leaks our whereabouts. Damian is away on business too, so the only other person here is Lucas, Damian’s right hand man. Beyond that, there are only two other people who know we’re here—Detective Miller, and Janet, the nurse I hired to help take care of my mom. And she’ll be here soon, to start caring for Ava.
It’s early morning now, and quiet, so far removed from the bedlam of just a couple hours ago. Even so, I still feel wired. Still feel wound up so tight that my ears are ringing and my body’s pumping, feeling that need to be on guard.
I open my tired eyes and look around, the surroundings so different from the white sterile room of the last few days. The sun is starting to make its way between red velvet drapes that match the bedspread, casting light and shadows across dark antiques, Persian rugs, and gold patterned wallpaper. Of the eight bedrooms I’d had to choose from, I picked this one for the view it has out the two windows, and because of the big Renaissance style oil painting that hangs above the bed, of horses hanging out under a tree.
The sun shifts, casting its rays across Ava now, who looks like a tragic Sleeping Beauty in the big four-poster bed that’s centuries old. Her blonde hair lays like a halo around her head, her long lashes rest peacefully against her face. Her face. Her poor beautiful face. Even that wasn’t spared. She has bruising along her cheekbones and her lips are cut, from where I know she’s been struck. And she’s so pale, and those circles under her eyes so dark. I look at the bandage on her shoulder, peeking out from under the white hospital gown, and at the brace on her left hand, and know that’s not even the half of it.
The dam I put in place to keep myself together these past few days starts to crack, and I feel the burn of unshed tears. I stare down at her fingers, so frail and so small inside of mine, when that image appears. That image I can’t shake. The image of her in that room, strung up, limp, beaten and bloody…and branded. Then there was that…thing…that monster, lying off to the side, covered in spikes and her blood. An ungodly rage swells in me every time I see that scene, that demon inside me thrashing in his cage like a madman, but I’ve been keeping it locked up good and tight for now, because I need to be here for Ava. But my hands haven’t stopped shaking since I found her. And my heart hasn’t stopped breaking since I walked into that cell, knowing most, if not all of what she went through, was because of me.
Who do you think’s been paying for what you did to him?
My throat goes tight and a tear slips through the dam and makes its way down my cheek. I try to find some comfort in the fact that she’s not with him anymore. She’s with me now. But then those words echo in my head. Those words that have been haunting me ever since I carried her out of there.
You’re a monster, just like me.
Another tear falls, when the door opens. I look down, knowing it’s Lucas, but not able to face him. He comes in quietly and by the aroma that fills the room, I know he’s brought in a tray of food. He places it on the table next to me, but doesn’t say anything about how I should try to eat, because he knows it won’t do any good. Instead, he places a strong hand on my shoulder.
The gesture has me weakening and the tears start streaming quietly down my face.
By the time Lucas leaves the room and closes the door behind him, the dam bursts and I’m keeled over the bed, sobbing.