Page 102 of Paper Doll

“Wes?” Ava whispers, as if she’s just realized I’m standing right in front of her.

“Told you I’d be back,” I murmur, fingers working the leather strap through the loop until her wrists slip free. I’m quick to catch her as she collapses forward, guiding her arms down to her sides and steadying her before dropping to unfasten the straps holding her ankles.

I want to beat the shit out of Raf for this; for putting her through it and not fucking telling me his plan. Even if I couldn’t have stopped it, at least I wouldn’t have had to walk in here and see her like that.

Freeing her ankles, she sways on her feet as I straighten to stand. I steady her with one hand as I pull off my hoodie with the other and help her into it. Her movements are robotic, a far-off look in her eyes as she goes through the motions. Then she suddenly flinches, darting a panicked glance toward the hall. “Is he... is Raf here?”

“No,” I bite out.

She looks up at me with unfocused eyes, blinking chaotically in an effort to make sense of the last few hours. “Why’d you leave?”

I force my expression to remain neutral, jaw set tight. “You belong to all of us,” I grit out. “But this was between you and Raf.”

Ava’s shoulders sag under the weight of the oversized hoodie and my answer. I don’t like seeing her look so small, but at least she’s got enough left in her to still be standing. That’s more than a lot of people would have at this point.

Sliding my arm around her waist, I urge her to walk with me, guiding her through the narrow passageways of the maze. I know the layout like the back of my hand, so in just a few turns we’re at the front of the boathouse, exiting through the double doors and stepping out into the frigid October air. Ava shivers, drawing her arms tighter around herself, the sleeves of my hoodie flopping over her hands.

Ford’s leaning up against the side of the building, spinning his knife in his fingers. He looks from me to Ava as he pushes off the wall, a smirk twitching at his lips.

“Congrats, baby girl,” he drawls, striding over to join us. “You were everyone’s favorite attraction.”

“At least they’ve got good taste,” Ava mutters, and Ford lets out a laugh.

I grunt in frustration, still too wound up for my own good. “Here, hop on,” I say, stepping in front of Ava and sinking into a crouch. “I’ll give you a ride back. Unless you want Ford to do the honors.”

Her eyes dart over to him, and for a second, I regret even suggesting it. But then she moves forward, climbing on my back and looping her arms around my neck. She’s light as a goddamn feather as I push to my feet, and she buries her face in crook of my neck as I start down the slope toward the path back to Sutton Hall. Ford falls in step right beside us, and before long we’re climbing the stairs up to our apartment, unlocking the door.

I push it open, and I feel Ava’s body tense against my back as soon as we’re inside, like she’s expecting Raf to be lurking in the shadows.

“Relax, he’s not here,” I tell her, carrying her over to the couch and setting her down. She curls up against the arm, pulling my hoodie tighter around her like a security blanket. She looks like hell, skin still marred with purple ink, but all I can think about is how fucking good she looks in my clothes.

Ford flops down next to her, arm draping over the back of the couch. “Considering the shape he was in before we left the boathouse, I’m betting he’ll pass out in the loft.”

Ava looks from Ford to me, and I can see how wrecked she is.

“What do you need?” I ask, even though I shouldn’t.

“To not be alone.” Her answer comes quick, like she doesn’t even mean to say it out loud.

“You can crash in my bed, Ava baby,” Ford drawls, winking at her.

“Or mine,” I say, a little too fucking quickly. As close as she seems to be getting with Ford lately, Ava’s still keeping me at arm’s length, and it’s slowly driving me insane.

I’mthe fucking nice one.

“Okay,” she replies, her voice cracking a little.

It takes a second for me to realize that she’s holding my gaze, not Ford’s.

She’s pickingme.

I hold out a hand, and she lets me pull her up from the couch, glancing over at Ford.

“See you tomorrow,” she says softly, voice breathy with exhaustion.

“See you in my dreams,” he fires back, licking his teeth.

Fucking psychopath.