“You’ve barely said a word to anyone for the last week.”
I look away.
“It hurts, doesn’t it?”
I look back to her, and she places the tea down before sitting beside me.
“What?”
Her eyes grow pained. “Heartbreak.”
I nod, and my bottom lip quivers.
“You loved him, huh?”
“Yeah. I loved him.”
“Do you want to tell me about him?”
I meet her eyes. “He’s against the rules.”
“You’re my daughter. Nothing is against the rules.”
I reach over and take the cup of tea. “He was good to me. He helped me cope after what happened. He was there for me, whenever I needed. He . . . was so broken but he fixed me, Mom.”
“Sounds like he cared about you, too.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“Did I ever tell you how your father and I got together?”
I shrug. “I know you were the daughter of a club member, but that’s all.”
“I was the daughter of a pig. He was the rival club president, and he was awful. He sent me in to spy on your father and bring his club down. I entered this club full of lies and deceit.”
My eyes widen. “You did?”
“Yeah. I was told to give any information I could to take your dad down, but I fell in love with him.”
“What happened when he found out?” I ask, my eyes still big.
“He lost it. I thought I’d lose him; hell, for a second of my life, I thought he’d kill me.”
I gasp. “But he loves you so much.”
“Yeah, he does, but he was hurt. I crushed him in the worst possible way.”
“How did you fix that?”
She smiles sadly. “I was pregnant with you, and I guess he understood in time why I did it. But believe me, for a horrible stretch there, I thought it was over.”
I take all this in, having had no idea that had gone down with my parents. “That’s full on.”
“Yeah.” She laughs. “But the point is, there’s a calm after the storm. Don’t give up on Lucas yet.”
I glance at her, confused. “He’s a cop.”
She laughs softly. “Yeah, and I was the daughter of a rival club president. Love has no boundaries, Ava.”
“You wouldn’t care?”
She reaches over, cupping my cheek. “No. I wouldn’t care.”
My heart warms.
I love my mom.
CHAPTER 32
NOW – AVA
I sit out the front of the compound on an old swing my dad made for me when I was little. It creaks as I push backwards and forwards, staring at nothing in particular. I’m off in my own little world, thinking about Lucas. I’ve tried to call him at work, but his receptionist always says he’s busy. I’ve even asked her to leave a message. He never calls back.
That hurts, and I’m barely hanging on.
My nightmares have gotten worse. Three times I’ve woken up with my dad, Mom or Danny staring down at me, asking what’s wrong. They suspect something more is at stake, but I just can’t talk to any of them. It’d destroy them to know what sort of person I became that awful night. So I’m drowning again, only this time I have nothing to numb it.
“Hi there.”
I turn and see Bethy’s father walking towards me. I wonder how he got in? My mouth opens and closes, and I want to curl up and hide. His eyes are less frantic and pained today than they were the last time I saw him, but even still . . . I can’t face him. I can’t. Just seeing his face makes me want to lean over and vomit from the pain that coils in my chest. Clearly he sees the anguish in my face because he puts his hands up. “I’m not here to yell at you.”
“Then why are you here?” I say in a quiet voice.
“I just want to talk.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
He leans against the tree and studies me. “I know you went through hell that night, I do, but I can’t . . . I can’t move on unless I know what happened. I’ve tried, believe me I’ve tried, but I feel helpless. I see her face every night in my dreams. I just . . . I need closure.”
I stare at him, and my heart breaks into a thousand tiny pieces. He deserves closure, but telling him means revealing something I can’t cope with.
“Closure isn’t always a good thing,” I say, my voice hoarse.
“Please, Ava. You’re the only one with the answers.”
“I don’t think you truly want to know what happened. That won’t help you heal; it’ll give you nightmares. Live like you are. Keep your memories special. Don’t tarnish them.”
His eyes well with tears. God damn. This big, burly man is crying. “She was my only daughter. I’ll never see her face again. Please.”
I look away, and my own tears start flowing and before I can stop it, it all comes rushing out. I’ve only told Lucas what happened, and that healed some small part of me, but telling this man seems to rip that scar right back open again. “He wanted to get back at you and Dad for plotting against him. He . . . he wanted to send a message.”
“Go on,” he whispers.
“I didn’t even know her name. I . . . I didn’t know anything about her, I just knew that we were both there for the same reason. She was afraid, and so he gave me the choice.”
“The choice of what?”
Tears pour down my cheeks as I relive that moment again.
“He told me that I had to make the choice who lived or died,” I gasp out, clutching my chest. “She was screaming, he was screaming and he kept . . . shooting at her. She was begging to live; he was telling me to make a choice and I was so afraid. I . . . I . . . I said her.” The words tumble out of my words. “I said her and he shot her.”
Silence. Dead silence.
“I’m the reason she’s dead.”
He says nothing for so long I wonder if he’s still there, and when I look up through my tears, he’s staring at me, his face utterly broken.
“You let him kill her.” His voice is a low whip.
“I was scared . . .”
“You let him murder my baby girl,” he roars, and I flinch.
“I tried to take it back. I was scared and . . .”
“So you thought her life was worth less than yours? You as good as killed her. You fucking murderer.”
I slide off the swing and start sobbing, my knees on the dirt, my head dropped. He’s right. I’m a murderer.
“I ought to kill you. She was my only child. You killed my only daughter.”
“What the fuck?”
I hear Dad’s voice and the sound of crunching boots.
“Your daughter killed mine; she fucking gave the go-ahead to kill her. Murderer! Fucking murderer!”
“Get the fuck out,” Dad bellows. “Before I put a bullet between your eyes. I’ve tolerated this once, but not twice. Get out. We’re done.”
“I hope her face haunts you every single day, you worthless—”
A loud crack echoes through the air.
“Get out!” my dad roars so loudly I start crying harder.
I hear shuffling and the man’s pained cries as he’s escorted out. I stay on the dirt, sobbing so hard my body shakes.
“Ava.”
Dad.
“Ava, baby, hey.”
I don’t answer him, I just cry harder, finally breaking, finally letting everything that’s been trapped inside explode from my chest.
“Honey, please.”
“Jacks, she’s hurtin’. Get her inside.” Spike.
“Ava, I’m goin’ to lift you now, okay?” Dad says.
“No!” I scream. “Leave me here. Leave me. I don’t deserve to breathe.”
“Baby, come on. We can talk about it.”
“No,” I wail, clawing at the ground.
“Oh god.” I hear my mom’s pained cry. “What happened?”
Her arms go around me, but I’m stiff. “Ava?” she asks. “Baby, talk to me.?
??
“Let me go,” I wail. “I’m a murderer. Let me go.”
“Hush, no,” Mom soothes.
“Lucas,” I pant. “I need him. Please. He’s the only one who understands.”
“No way in hell is he coming into my club. Talk to us, Ava.”
I look up at my father, and he sees something in my eyes that makes him stand and bark to Cade, “Find the cop. Now.”
I drop my head back down and sit there with my mother’s arms around my stiff body, not feeling anything but the tears pouring down my cheeks.
I’m a murderer.
~*~*~*~
“Get out of the way.”
I hear Lucas’s voice and lift my broken head, staring at him through blurred vision. My mother stands; she gave up trying to comfort me an hour ago. I’m still on my knees in the dirt and the rocks have broken my skin, but I don’t care. Lucas comes forward, and my dad steps in front of him.
“You don’t touch her, Shadow.”
“Get the fuck out of my way,” Lucas warns. “I’ll hurt you, Jackson, and I don’t wanna do that, but my girl is on the ground, and I’m the only one she wants, so you either move or so help me god, I’ll fuckin’ make you.”
They stare at each other for a moment, then Dad steps to the side. Lucas comes over, squatting down beside me.
“Hush, honey,” he murmurs. “I got you.”
He scoops me into his arms and I curl into him, pressing my face against his chest, breathing him in. I cry harder.
“Get me a first-aid kit,” he barks as he walks towards the compound. “And water.”
I clutch his shirt and hear the murmurings as Lucas carries me into the club, but I don’t look up. I sense the moment he sits down, and he carefully adjusts me into his lap so I fit better. Tears have already soaked his shirt, and my sobs have turned into pained whimpers.
“I got you,” he keeps saying to me. “Always got you.”
“I’m a murderer,” I whimper.
“No, baby, you’re not.”
“What’s she talkin’ about?” Dad asks.
“Not right now,” Lucas mutters.
His hand goes to my hair, and he gently smooths it down. “Don’t you drown on me now, baby,” he says, his voice soft. “Don’t you go and fuckin’ leave me.”
“You left,” I croak. “You . . .”
“Fucked up. I’m here now. Not going anywhere again. Wanna know why?”
I lift my head from his chest and look up at him.
He reaches down, stroking a tear from my cheek. “Because the second I found you lying on the sidewalk that night, I knew you’d change my life.”
My bottom lip trembles, and I hiccup.
“There is nowhere I’d rather be.”
“I’m broken,” I whisper.
“And two broken pieces can make a whole, kid. Remember that.”
He cups the back of my head and brings me close, brushing his lips against mine. “Now I’m goin’ to put you to sleep because you’re exhausted, and I’m goin’ to sit down and tell your family what happened to you. It’s time this ends.”
I don’t know if I’m ready for this.
I also don’t think I get a choice.
CHAPTER 33
NOW- AVA
“Not Ava. Not our Ava. She would have told me. She would have opened up to me. Not my baby. She’s been drowning, and I didn’t fuckin’ see.”
I can hear my mother’s cries and my father’s despair as I sit in my room, my back against the wall, and my head pressed against my legs that are tucked up to my chest. I heard Lucas tell them what happened. I heard them lose it. I heard all the tears and the heartache. I heard the exact moment I stopped being their innocent little girl.
“She’s been drowning,” Lucas says. “She didn’t want to hurt you.”
“She should have told me!” Dad bellows. “She should have . . .” His voice trails off, brokenly.
“My little girl,” Mom sobs. “My poor baby girl.”
My nails dig into my skin as I continue to listen to their pain travel through the walls.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Dad demands.
“Wasn’t my secret to tell. She needed me, and I was there.”
“Is this some sort of revenge tactic?”
Lucas barks a deadly laugh. “You can turn this around on me any which way you want, Jackson, but the fact of the matter is that it was your club that got her into this mess. My suggestion to you, instead of trying to pin the blame on me, is to see what’s right in front of you and fuckin’ stop it before it hurts anyone else.”
“You fuckin’—”
“Jacks,” Mom cries. “Stop it. Stop.”
“You wanna hit me?” Lucas mutters. “Go ahead. It won’t fix the problem. This man is messin’ with your family, and you’re lettin’ him. Your daughter is in there, and she’s broken. Let go of your hate and be there for her; fix this shit and don’t give that motherfucker what he wants. He did this to hit you where it hurts, and right now you’re lettin’ him.”
“She’s my daughter!” Dad bellows.
“Yeah, she is, and she always will be. So be there for her and fix this, but don’t let it destroy you or her, because then he wins.”
“It’s my fuckin’ fault it happened in the first place.” The pain in Dad’s voice rips my heart to shreds. It rips it wide open.
“Don’t live with blame and regret. It won’t fix anything—take it from me.”
“Don’t you compare me to yourself, Shadow.”
“Why not?” Lucas hisses. “I fucked up and because of that my daughter is gone. I know what loss feels like. I know what regret feels like. I know exactly what this feels like. Don’t give that piece of shit what he wants. You can heal your daughter without breaking.”
Silence.
“Jacks,” Mom says. “Go and get your head together. Ava doesn’t need this. I’ll go be with her.”
“With all due respect, ma’am,” Lucas says, “I would rather be with her right now.”
“Like fuck,” Dad mutters.
“Jacks,” Mom snaps. “Don’t forget who you are. This is our baby girl. You need to go and cool off. Lucas, of course you may go and be with her.”
“Thank you.”
A few minutes later, my door creaks open and Lucas steps in. His eyes go to the bed and flare in slight alarm when he realizes I’m not there. They travel over the room before finding me sitting on the ground. “You heard all of that, huh?”
I nod.
“You okay?”
I shrug. “Are they?”
“They will be.”
“I’ll never be the same in their eyes again.”
Lucas walks over, sliding down the wall beside me. “You’ll always be the same, kid. Always.”
“They sounded so hurt,” I whisper.
“It’ll take time. Come here.” He pulls me into his lap and I let him tuck me into his arms.
“I feel sore all over,” I say tilting my head to look up at him.
“Because you finally let it all out. It can only get better from here.”
I let out a long, slow sigh.
“You need to rest.”
He stands and carries me to the bed.
“Will you stay with me?”
“Always, baby. Always.”
~*~*~*~
I wake in the middle of the night and Lucas is dead asleep beside me. I have been tossing and turning. Not wanting to wake him up, I slide out of bed and straighten my clothes before sneaking out of the room. I walk down the dark halls and into the compound kitchen. I get myself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, then I stretch my neck from side to side. It’s aching. In fact, my entire body is.
The microwave dings and I pull my milk out, holding it in both hands as I quietly move to the lounge. I notice the shed light on and wonder who is awake in this house. It must be two a.m.
I quietly exit the house and walk down the front steps, moving towards the s
hed. When I reach the door, I hear soft music playing. I push it open and step in to see my dad sitting on an old stool, a beer in his hands, his head dropped.
This is exactly why I didn’t want him to know.
My heart cracks open.
“Daddy?”
He looks up, and his eyes are red and glassy. “Did the music wake you?” he asks, his voice hoarse.
I study him and my heart splits in two. My hard, broody, masculine dad has been crying. I put my milk down and walk over, taking a stool and placing it in front of him.
“No,” I finally say in response to his question.
“Then you should go get some sleep, darlin’. I’m just thinkin’.”
“Dad . . .” He looks up at me again. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He flinches and his jaw tightens. So much pain explodes from his body I can feel it to my very core. “It was my fault, and I’ve gotta live with that.”
“This is why I didn’t tell you. This is why—”
“He hurt you,” he rasps. “He fucking hurt you because of me.”
“Dad . . .”
“He took my Ava away and broke her.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat.
“I will never forgive myself for that.”
“Don’t give him what he wants,” I say. “Please, Dad. Don’t give him what he wants. He did that to me. Not you.”
“He took you because of me.”
His fingers clench around his beer bottle and I reach over, putting my hand on his jacket.
“I forgive you.”
“Took my little girl and fucked her up.”
“I forgive you, Daddy.”
“Broke her,” he rasps. A lone tear trickles down his cheek, and it hurts me so much to see. I scoot closer, putting my arms around his neck. He doesn’t move. He just sits there, his head dropped, his hands around the beer.
“If you can’t forgive yourself, you’ll never heal,” I say. “I need you to heal because I need you to be my dad.”
His body shakes.
“I can’t be me without you, old man.”
He drops one hand from the beer bottle and wraps it around me. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
“Don’t let him win,” I whisper.
“I’ll kill him for hurtin’ you.”
I pull back. “The only thing that can hurt me now is if you don’t forgive yourself for this.”