Page 37 of The Afterthought

As if he could sense my change in body language, he pushes me back up to a seated position. "What was that all about?"

"I don't want to talk about it. You should go home. It's late."

"No."

"Greyson, can you just let it go? It has nothing to do with you."

He grips my chin, holding it in place. "Listen carefully, Avalynn. Anything that has to do with you has to do with me. I'm not leaving this house until you explain what just happened and who hurt you. I saw the cuts. Either you tell me who it was, or I will make it my personal mission to track them down myself."

"It's done and over with."

"No, it's not done and over with because it's still affecting you. Now tell me."

"No, Grey. It doesn't matter."

"Ava, tell me who hurt you so I can make sure they feel every bit of pain you did and then some."

"Why do you care all of a sudden? You never even tried to reach out to me until I came back to this town."

"I thought that's what was best for the both of us."

"YOU thought. You don't get to make choices for me anymore."

"See, that's where you're wrong. I thought I made it perfectly clear that you’re mine. I’m done going back and forth with you about this. You can either tell me willingly, or I'll tie your stubborn ass to your bed and tease your sweet cunt until you lose every morsel of sanity."

I scowl at him, half-tempted to resist a bit more so he can follow through on his threat. I know he will. The stern look on his face tells me he isn't going to let this go. I might as well wave the white flag and give in on this one thing.

"Fine." I stand up and head towards the kitchen. "But if we're talking about this, I need a drink."

I reach up into a cabinet and grab two glasses. They're nothing special, only regular drinking glasses because my mother's choice of numbness wasn't alcohol. After setting the glasses on the table, I pull open the top cabinet and grab the bottle of amber liquid. I'm not a huge drinker, but on the days when the memories threaten to consume me, I grant myself a drink or two to make myself forget.

I give each glass a heavy pour and slide into one of the seats at the table, waiting for Greyson to take one of his own. Once he does, I take a deep breath and a heavy sip of the Whiskey, letting it numb my throat.

"I thought it was just another job. After I left here, I bounced around a bit, trying to find some sort of profession that fit what I enjoyed. I started doing Personal Investigation work. Just not the usual kind. It's all under the table and not in any sort of legal capacity. I took a few firearms training courses and some basic self-defense classes to prepare and dove right in. The jobs were slow at first. It isn’t always easy to convince people women are capable of doing what men do. After a while, word spread, and business picked up." I stare down at the floor briefly before looking him in the eye. "People want answers to things, but sometimes the law doesn't want to give them those answers. They passed my name along to others. I started up my own website and had a few clients a month that paid me pretty damn well to give them the answers they couldn't find elsewhere."

"Why did you have to do it all illegally? Why not get your degree and make it official if that's what you wanted to do?"

"I was an eighteen-year-old kid who left home with nothing except a very minimal stack of cash. It didn't exactly afford me the opportunity to pay for college. Besides, my dad was a sheriff. You and I both know that the legal way of doing things isn’t always the best way."

"I suppose you're right about that."

I take another large gulp of my drink. "I got pretty good at my job. I followed people around, took pictures, and found out information by any means necessary. It was all fun for me. Every job brought forth a new challenge. I got to find proof that husbands were cheating on their wives. I found information that helped a family find the car of their son who wrecked into a lake. There was a missing girl who was sold into a trafficking ring that I was able to help locate."

"You did all of that?" he questions as if he's surprised by my abilities.

"I did, and I really loved my job. I've been able to help people regardless of the circumstances. I never had an issue with a job, except when Ashley Banks hired me."

I down the rest of my drink and point at the bottle for Greyson to pass it over to me. He slides me his glass instead and gives me the time I need to continue with the story. I stare off into the empty space beside him, trying to figure out how I'm going to talk about this without it triggering another flashback.

As if he can read my mind, he scoots his chair closer to mine and reaches out to touch my arm. I look down to the place his hand rests on me. The warmth from his touch grounds me in the moment, and I take a deep breath and continue on with my recollection of the events.

"It was supposed to be easy. I'd done jobs like this one in the past with zero issues. Stalking around in the shadows is something I'm pretty good at."

He laughs. "I don't know about that."

"You only caught me that day because I lost sight of you and then lost myself to a memory when I saw the blood on my knee." I look over at him with annoyance.

"Whatever you say, little shadow. So, what happened?"

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