Page 19

CHAPTER 19

March 8 th

8:48 A.M.

“Hopefully, we’ve seen the last of him.” Mother huffed as though the matter was all settled because Nathaniel was apparently on her parents’ side instead of hers.

Things were settled all right.

Only not in the way the others seemed to believe.

Ava had never felt this kind of anger before. It was like a great big icy hole in her stomach, it was cold and detached instead of fiery hot. It was laced with sadness and betrayal creating a curious combination she could only hope she never experienced again.

Whether or not Nathaniel would be allowed back in, Ava wasn't sure yet, but she did know one thing for certain.

Her parents had to go.

Bentley Jones too.

She never wanted to see any of them again in her life. Whatever last little thread of hope that had her clinging to the idea that one day her parents would be actual parents was gone now. Snapped.

Like she was about to.

Clinging to the cold detachment, that she knew sooner or later was going to fade into just pure emptiness, she made the most of it while it lasted.

Strolling over to her mother she held out her hand. “Give me the key.”

For a second her mother faltered, clearly expecting theatrics as she would call them. But Ava wasn't going to scream and cry, she was just done. Ready to get them all out of her life and move forward.

When her mother didn't immediately comply, Ava shrugged and headed back to the kitchen table where her cell phone was sitting next to the plate of untouched pancakes Nathaniel had cooked her for breakfast. What could have been such a wonderful morning after had turned into a disaster and she honestly wasn't sure whether there was anything left to salvage.

Or whether she even wanted to try.

Nathaniel had issues and trauma, she got that, she truly did. The problem wasn't that he had problems, it was that rather than discuss them and talk to her about his fears and anxieties, he made massive and hurtful assumptions about her.

Never once had she implied that she needed tons of money to be happy.

Yet he’d never asked. If he had, he would have learned her parents had removed her from their wills. Would have known she went without a lot to afford her passion. And the bracelet that they were all so concerned about was important to her not because it was worth a lot of money, but because it was her grandmother’s. She would have loved it just as much if it was worth fifty cents as fifty thousand dollars.

With her phone in her hand, she brought up Raven’s name.

No.

Wait.

She should go right to the top.

While all six of the Oswald siblings owned Prey, everybody knew that Eagle was top dog, not just because he was the oldest but because Prey had been his baby. He’d started it himself, and he was the one in control even if he delegated a lot of that power to his brothers and sisters.

“What are you doing?” Mother demanded, a tiny hint of uncertainty in her tone. Not something Ava was used to hearing when it came to her mother. The woman was always in control and always so infuriatingly positive she was correct.

“Calling Eagle Oswald,” she replied, sifting through her contacts until she found her big boss.

Even for people not in the special ops world, that was a name that carried a lot of weight. The Oswalds were billionaires, they donated a lot of money to charities, including the ones run by the youngest sibling, Dove. Her family might be wealthy, but they weren't Oswald wealthy and her mom knew it.

“Why would you need to call your boss?” mother asked.

“Because you won't give me back the key you had illegally made. Eagle will make sure all three of you are properly dealt with for theft, breaking and entering, and anything else the cops can get to stick. You should know my boss has a lot of connections in the police department,” she added.

“Hey, I don’t know anything about a stolen key or breaking and entering. Your mother told me that after your kidnapping you were ready to make some changes in your life and settle down. I was under the impression you knew I was coming here with them this morning,” Bentley quickly informed her. “I don’t want anything to do with the cops. I'm out of here. And, Ava, if you do ever change your mind I don’t want to hear from you. It’s over.”

“It was never started to begin with,” she reminded the much older man as he tossed the velvet box with her grandmother’s bracelet inside onto the table and hurried out of her kitchen without another word.

A moment later, she heard the front door slam closed.

Turning to her parents, she arched a brow. Did they really think she wouldn't follow through on this? They’d committed a crime, and she wanted them out of her life for good.

“Well? Are you following him out the door, or do you want to be dragged out in handcuffs?” Ava asked.

“You're being a drama queen again, Ava,” Mother snapped.

Shrugging, she started typing out a text. Eagle would not only make sure her parents were taken care of, he’d also make sure he organized security for her. Right now, she didn't have the mental energy left to help Nathaniel deal with his issues, so it would be easier for all of them to have someone else watching over her.

“You wouldn't,” Mother ground out through clenched teeth.

“I am,” she countered.

“Fine.” With exaggerated care, her mother removed the key from her key chain and placed it on the kitchen table beside the velvet jewelry box. “I hope you know what you're doing, Ava. Choosing that riff-raff over your family, over the expectations on you. You're a disappointment to all of us.”

Thing was, she seemed to be a disappointment to Nathaniel as well.

But that was the thing her mother had never gotten. It wasn't about anyone else, it was just about being true to herself.

“I’m not choosing anything or anyone else over the life you want for me, Mother. I’m just choosing me,” Ava said simply.

With the most unladylike snort she’d ever heard come from her mother, the woman turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. With a shrug, her father followed.

When the front door closed behind them a moment later, she sagged back to rest against the counter. What a morning. It wasn't at all what she’d envisioned or what she’d hoped for when she walked into the kitchen to find Nathaniel making her breakfast.

How could things go from perfect to a disaster so quickly?

Her appetite had gone up in smoke along with her happiness, and she tossed the pancakes in the trash. There was no point in keeping them, not only would the maple syrup have made them go all soggy, but they were a reminder of who Nathaniel could be if he stopped judging her for things she’d never said or done.

After that, she began to tidy up the kitchen, taking out her frustration on each utensil and bowl as she washed and dried them. Just as she was putting the last thing away there was a knock on her front door.

Nathaniel coming to grovel perhaps?

Not that she wanted a grovel per se, more just for him to acknowledge that he couldn’t keep putting his own fears and insecurities on her shoulders. She might have grown up rich, but she wasn't some spoiled, snobby princess. If she was even going to entertain the notion of giving them another chance, he had to prove to her that he wasn't going to keep throwing non-existent issues in her face.

At the door, she pushed up onto her tiptoes to peek through the peephole, and was surprised to find it wasn't Nathaniel on the other side. It was a man who looked like he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. The shirt with a moving company logo on it. Behind him she could see a sofa sitting half in and half out of the door to the apartment directly opposite her and another man trying to push it through. She hadn't even realized her neighbors were moving out, so much had changed even in the short time she’d been held captive.

“May I help you?” Ava asked as she opened the door.

“You certainly can,” the man who’d had his back to her answered as he turned around to face her.

It took a couple of seconds for it all to click together.

Those eyes.

They belonged to the man who had tried to abduct her in the hospital.

Before she could open her mouth to scream, she was being backed into her apartment, the door slamming closed with a finality she didn't like one little bit.

Both men advanced on her and Ava wasn't stupid enough to think she could get away from both of them. Maybe if she could get to the kitchen she could grab a knife. That was probably her best bet.

Darting around them, she ran for the kitchen door but never made it.

Arms wrapped around her, and she was yanked backward, up against a rock-hard chest.

“Careful, she’s a tricky one, pin her arms,” hospital man ordered the other one.

Pinned as she was, she couldn’t do much of anything. She was just too small and he was too big.

Still, she couldn’t give up.

If she gave up it was already too late for her.

So she dropped all her weight, causing the man who held her to adjust his grip on her, then surged up, slamming her head back, gratified when she heard a snap and then a howl of pain.

Good.

They deserved to suffer for what they were a part of.

“Not going to work, sweetheart,” the man holding her snarled as he tightened his grip on her even as she felt something wet drop onto the top of her head.

“Time for lights out,” hospital man said with a sneer as he prepared a syringe and stepped closer.

Ava fought.

Did everything within her power to break free.

But it was no good.

The needle pierced her skin, the drug was administered, and the world faded away into nothingness.

* * *

March 8 th

9:20 A.M.

What was he thinking?

How could he make such a stupid mistake?

Now that he was out of Ava’s apartment, away from her parents and that creepy older guy they apparently wanted to marry her, and sitting in his car across the street, Nathaniel was starting to realize just how stupid he’d been.

No longer did it feel like he was being swallowed alive by his insecurities. The anxiety had receded enough that he could think clearly again, and now that he could, he knew that Ava would never want to marry a man like Bentley Jones.

Not only was he significantly older than her, but he would never treat her as the strong, independent, capable woman that she was. He’d try to twist her into something else, into the woman her parents wanted her to be.

There was no way Ava would be happy with a man like Bentley. Why had he ever said to her that she should be with him? The betrayal in her eyes still haunted him. Granted, at the time he hadn't known that her parents had tried to sell her off to him when she was only seventeen, but regardless, Ava hadn't seemed interested and that was what he should have been focusing on.

Instead, he’d done the same thing her parents had.

He’d tried to decide for Ava what was best for her.

Ignored her wishes.

Acted like she didn't know what she wanted or what was best for herself.

No wonder she’d looked at him with a mixture of anger, sadness, and betrayal, because that was exactly how he was feeling himself right about now.

The very thing Nathaniel hated more than anything else was to be judged based on his past. Wasn't that exactly what he’d done to Ava?

Because she’d been raised in a wealthy family didn't make her spoiled. Nor did it make her snobby or entitled. The Ava he’d been getting to know was none of those things. Since spending the last couple of days at her house, he’d found that, yes, she lived in a nice building, yes, she had nice furniture, yes, she had an extensive collection of art, and yes, she owned expensive jewelry. But that was it.

Never once had he seen her dressed in designer clothes. While he was no expert neither her bed sheets nor her towels seemed to be anything different than what he would buy for himself, other than the color. All the gadgets in the kitchen were Teresa’s, not Ava’s, and he hadn't even bothered to ask her about the art, or the bracelet because he’d immediately jumped onto the defensive without any provocation on her part.

She wasn't the one judging him, he’d been the only one judging the entire way along.

Damn.

He owed her one massive apology.

Ava Hendricks was the best thing to ever happen to him. If he hadn't been so busy being defeatist, so determined to paint himself as some poor victim of his past who could never be loved and respected by anyone who hadn't grown up surrounded by the stench of alcohol and blood, he would have seen what was staring him in the face all along.

A woman who was determined, who didn't give up, who fought with everything she had, was loyal and compassionate, and cared about others. A woman who was intelligent and beautiful. A woman who made him laugh with her adorable rambling, and who filled him with warmth from a single smile.

More than that, a woman who seemed to see him.

She saw him and cared about his past only in how it affected him. She would never be the kind of woman who would use it against him, look down her nose at him, or think less of him because he’d grown up in a home filled with violence and alcohol.

So why was he so intent on putting her down instead of getting out of his own way?

Maybe it was time to think about getting himself some therapy.

If he could sabotage his own chance at happiness just to prove a point that nobody else was trying to make other than himself, then it was time to do something about it.

Therapy had always seemed too extreme, not something he needed, although he wouldn't say the same for the rest of his family. But he hadn't turned to drugs, hadn't turned to alcohol, hadn't turned to violence. Sure, he kept relationships to just a physical one, but he’d never been disrespectful to a partner let alone put his hands on them in any way that wasn't supposed to make them feel good.

Now he realized there were other ways of hurting.

Ways that focused more on hurting yourself than hurting others.

It wasn't healthy for him to keep going the way he was. Shutting out everybody who wasn't part of his team and refusing to let them get close. Making excuses about why he shouldn’t be in a relationship instead of doing something to fix himself. Hurting people who had done absolutely nothing wrong because it was easier to do that than confront his demons.

Well, no more.

Ava deserved better.

And Nathaniel found himself wanting to be the kind of man she could be proud of. He’d hurt her with his childish display of immaturity upstairs, and he needed to apologize and find a way to make it up to her. Assuring her he was going to get some help for his issues was a start, but he wanted to talk through exactly what was running through his head.

With a chuckle, he climbed back out of his car.

Look at him. Actually, planning on going to see a shrink, and volunteering to have a conversation about his feelings. So not him. So not any guy he knew. But Ava made him want to be a better man and he knew this was the first step in doing that.

So, with determination, he waited for the traffic to clear so he could cross the street.

He’d seen the Bentley Jones guy come rushing out of the building not long after he’d left, so he knew Ava had sent the man running. And not long after that, her parents had also come out. Her mother had been fuming, he could tell even from over the street inside his car. Like always, her father just appeared bored and had been tapping away on his phone.

Nathaniel was glad she’d put them in their place. Glad she’d done the same thing with him. He’d needed the wake-up call that he was letting his life pass him by without really living it. Now he found himself anxious to get upstairs and talk with Ava. He wanted to clear the air, promise her he’d do better going forward, and then start enjoying his time with her rather than always waiting for the other shoe to drop and things to fall apart.

As he crossed the street, he saw the movers from upstairs come out the door. They had a trolley that was piled high with the blankets they had used to protect the furniture during transport, and from the looks of things, the guy wheeling it was struggling a little.

It was what first caught his attention, but then he noticed something else.

The man had a smear of blood above his top lip. Almost like he’d had a nosebleed.

Slowing down, Nathaniel watched as the two men approached a large van parked just a little way down the street.

A white van.

Ava had been abducted the first time in a white van.

It wasn't possible … was it?

One easy way to find out.

If these two men were really just delivery people, they should have zero problems with what he was about to do.

“Hey,” he called out as he jogged down the sidewalk after them. “That looks heavy. Let me help you load it up into your van.”

Both men froze for a moment as he approached, then turned slowly to face him. Neither of them looked appreciative of his offer, and they quickly exchanged glances.

“No thank you, we have it under control,” the man without the blood on his face said. He had an accent. Mexican?

“I don’t mind helping,” Nathaniel said again, offering a warm, easy smile that he certainly didn't feel.

“Can't. Insurance purposes. You're not covered,” the man with the accent said as he stepped forward a little to block Nathaniel’s view of the other man.

Or to block his view of the trolley?

Then he noticed it.

A small lock of hair, barely noticeable where it peeped out between two blankets.

Ava.

Reaching for his weapon, Nathaniel was pulling it out when the man with the accent fired first.

Pain burned through his chest as he stumbled backward.

Vaguely, he was aware of shouts, of a car door slamming closed, of tires screeching.

He tried to move, tried to get his body to cooperate, to fire back at the kidnappers, to stop them, to save Ava from a hell she wouldn't survive a second time around.

But he couldn’t.

His vision went gray around the edges, and then black dots danced in front of his eyes.

Slumping down against the unforgiving sidewalk, Nathaniel was forced to confront the reality that he’d failed.

Ava was gone.

Then he succumbed to the darkness.