Page 22 of Where Daisies Breathe (Star Meadows #2)

AVA

B efore I leave with Ellis, I tell Clara some of what’s been going on.

It’s challenging to get some of the words out, but ultimately, I’m glad I confided in her.

She’s worried, though, more than she already was, and I feel terrible about that.

I also feel awful about having to tell her about Bailey acting weird this morning.

She’s uneasy about this, so I make sure to stress that she can leave any time she wants.

She tells me she’s going to stay, but I wonder if that might change once she’s sat on the information I’ve told her.

Part of me selfishly wants her here, but the other part of me wants her to leave this town that’s crammed with dangerous secrets that seem to be leaking out of everything lately.

“Are you sure you want to stay?” I double check as I collect my bag and phone, preparing to head outside where Ellis is parked in the driveway, waiting for me. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to?—”

She holds up her hand. “I’m going to stay here. I’m not about to bail on my friend. Besides, Bailey needs someone to keep an eye on him while you’re gone.” She smiles, but it’s a bit forced. “I’m going to carry my pepper spray with me, though.”

“Good idea. And that reminds me I need to grab mine.” I hurry back to my room to get mine and shove it in my bag.

Ellis texts me then to see if I’m headed out. I give Bailey a few pets, say goodbye to Clara, and step outside, trying my best to ignore the shadows of the trees looming in the distance, whispering to me that they’re watching me.

“How much blood is required for this test?” I ask Ellis as I sit in a room at a doctor’s office that’s located on the edge of town.

After Ellis picked me up, we drove here to meet up with Owen. Ellis looks exhausted with circles shadowing under his eyes, and his hair is sticking up as if he spent the night stressfully yanking his fingers through the strands. His shirt is wrinkled, and his jawline is scruffy.

“I don’t think it takes a lot of time,” Ellis replies.

He’s sitting in a chair across from where I’m seated, and he has his phone out.

He’s wearing a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and grey slacks.

He glances up at me with his brows drawn together.

“Shit, do you not do well with needles?”

“Not really.” I squirm in the cold leather chair, the fluorescent light stinging against my eyes. The walls are a bright pink that clashes with the lighting, and the air reeks of lemon-scented cleaner. “That probably seems weird considering how many times I’ve been poked with a needle.”

“It’s not weird. That could be why you hate them.” He stuffs his phone into his pocket and leans forward to rest his arms on his knee. “You can hold my hand if you want.” For the first time since we were teenagers, I think he’s teasing me.

I arch my brow at him. “I feel like you’re teasing me.”

“Sort of.” A trace of a smile materializes on his lips. “But you can still hold my hand if you want.” He grows serious. “I know you have a hard time getting touched by people, but it could help to channel your energy elsewhere.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe not. But I want to try to move past my issues with being touched, and this could be the first step. It’s small and feels necessary.

Keeping one arm resting on the small tray attached to the chair, I extend my free hand toward him. Surprise flickers in his eyes, but he quickly straightens and takes my hand. His palm is warm against mine as he laces our fingers together.

He carries my gaze. “Are you okay?”

My pulse is deafening inside my body, pleading to stay strong and bear through this.

I nod shakily, then before I can back out, Owen enters the room. He’s around mine and Ellis’s age with brown hair, and he’s wearing a white lab coat. I met him for a second when he brought us back to this room, and like then, he offers me a small smile.

“Are you ready to do this, Ava?” he asks me as he slips on a pair of latex gloves.

“No, but I’m going to do it anyway,” I reply truthfully, gripping onto Ellis' hand.

Owen’s gaze travels to our interlocked fingers, and a curiosity briefly flashes across his face. However, that disappears as he enters professional mode.

A few slamming heartbeats later, the needle pierces my skin.

I clutch onto Ellis’ hand, probably too tightly, but he shows no visible signs of being in pain.

I’d probably be more worried about it, but all I can focus on right now is not having a full-on panic attack.

It’s not just from the needle in my arm.

It’s from the memories pounding against my mind.

“Shh…” the man whispers in my ear. “Just let it happen.”

“Stop fighting me,” the same man whispers. “You know you’ll never win.”

“Why do you always make me do this?” The woman’s voice sounds like my mother’s.

I gasp as I forcefully yank myself away from the memories. I’m beyond embarrassed when I note that Owen and Ellis are staring at me with concern.

“It’s okay,” Ellis quickly says as he gently squeezes my hand. “Just breathe through it.”

Air in…

Air out…

In…

Out…

Just breathe, Ava.

Eventually, I calm down. By then, Owen has removed his gloves and is washing his hands. Once he's finished, he asks me if I’m okay. When I nod, he turns to Ellis.

“I’ll try to get the results for you by the end of the day,” he tells him as he slips off his gloves.

“I’m going to run them myself. That’s not how we normally do it, but considering the circumstances and some of the things you told me over the phone, I think it’s best if we keep this between us three. ”

“Thank you,” Ellis tells him.

With a nod, Owen leaves the room with my blood sample.

Ellis fixes his attention on me then. “How are you doing?”

“I’m a little lightheaded.” I glance down at the pink tape Owen wrapped around my arm. “How long do I have to keep this on? It’s making my arm numb.”

“Ten minutes.” Still holding my hand, he pushes to his feet. “Let’s go get you a drink and a snack. It might help with the lightheadedness.”

I allow him to pull me to my feet, ignoring the dizziness swimming in my mind. We make our way out of the doctor’s office and to his vehicle. Ellis helps me the entire way. The cool air feels good against my skin, and I breathe it in as we make our way to the SUV.

By the time Ellis is opening the door for me, I feel it again, this feeling of being watched. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and my gaze instinctively scans the parking lot around us. Like this morning, I don’t expect to find anything. But I do.

Standing beside a truck with tinted windows is a dark-haired man sporting a T-shirt and jeans.

Jason .

Fuck.

And his eyes are trained on me.

I learned over the years of being married how to pick up on little signs that he’s angry, from subtle facial expressions to his body language and tone.

My therapist told me this is a trauma response that my brain created to help me survive his raging outbursts.

While I’ve healed a bit, I can still see the darkness in his eyes, the downturn of his lips, and the stiffness in his posture.

He’s livid.

His gaze moves from me to Ellis and then back to me. Then he strides toward us, weaving his way around the vehicles. I start to duck inside the SUV when Ellis notices Jason.

“Is that your ex-husband?” he mumbles without looking away from Jason.

“Yeah, and I don’t want to talk to him. Let’s get out of here. Please .” I slide into the passenger seat before my legs give out, and Ellis closes the door.

I wait for him to climb into the driver’s side, but he walks toward the front of the SUV and comes to a halt. This move seems to take away a bit of the wind out of Jason’s storm as he slows to a stop a few feet away from Ellis.

“I want to talk to my wife,” he tells Ellis in the cocky tone he uses whenever he thinks he can bully people into getting his way.

“Ex-wife,” Ellis corrects him with his arms folded. “And she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Jason scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Ava doesn’t know what she wants.” He moves to sidestep around Ellis.

But Ellis matches his move and blocks his path. “I’m going to give you one warning to step the hell away from my car.”

“Or what?” Jason measures him up then sneers, “You’re going to hit me?”

He lifts his arm to strike me in the face. I don’t even bother bracing myself anymore. It’s all the same. Numbed—I am numbed to this.

Ellis remains composed. “No, I’ll find a reason to arrest you.”

For the first time since I’ve met him, worry becomes visible on Jason’s expression. It’s a fleeting and faint moment, like a catch of a breath against a chilling breeze. If I weren’t so in tune with his behavior, I would’ve missed it.

Ellis, being a police officer, is making Jason uneasy.

But he hastily collects himself. “You’re the idiot cop acting like James’ death was a murder. Seems pretty stupid when he fell off a cliff.”

“Allegedly,” Ellis responds. “And what do you know about his death? I haven’t talked to you yet; the ex-son-in-law with anger issues. I think maybe I should.”

“Go ahead,” Jason replies haughtily, the corners of his lips curling upward. “I didn’t do anything to him. No one did.” Jason’s gaze lands on me through the window. “Ava, you’re on the wrong side in this, and you’re going to regret it.”

“Ava, you better fucking obey me.”

Ellis steps to the side so I’m no longer in Jason’s view. “Are you threatening her?”

“Fuck off,” Jason snaps at him. “Such a tough guy. We’ll see how that holds up.” With that, Jason spins around and storms away, heading not to his truck but into the entrance of the doctor’s office.

“Why is he here?” I mutter as I watch Jason throw a glance at the SUV from over his shoulder before yanking the glass entrance door open and rushing inside.