Page 22 of Tears of Revenge

Avalon

As usual, the weekend flew by. Though she was happy to see the sunshine break through the gloomy weather by Monday.

She was looking forward to seeing Varos and Marcus again—even Lysander. She knew that he wasn’t her biggest fan, but she still enjoyed his company—especially when he and Marcus started bickering.

As she settled into her desk and started up her computer, she was approached by the same flower delivery man from before. Yet again, he carried a stunning bouquet along with a small gift bag. With a bright smile, he set down the flowers and handed over the gift. “Here you go, ma’am.”

She couldn’t help the flush on her cheeks as she took it from him. “Thank you.”

He walked away, and she reached into the bag. She didn’t even try to fight the butterflies.

Ava,

We hope you had a wonderful weekend. We would love to take you out on Thursday evening. We won’t be in our office until Wednesday but please leave us a message if Thursday isn’t good for you. We can always rearrange.

Marcus and Varos

Her heart fluttered. Replacing the note, she swapped it for the small velvet box. Inside were a dainty pair of gold earrings. She held the box close, wondering how these men knew her so well in such a short amount of time.

That tingling feeling lasted throughout the day even as she walked into her small apartment. Since she didn’t have a real vase, she settled for placing the flowers in a plastic cup. It wasn’t pretty but hopefully Marcus and Varos would never see what shame she brought on their beautiful bouquet. She giggled at the sight, wondering if they’d simply be amused—or leave and return with a proper vase.

She started dinner, but quickly remembered she forgot to stop for milk on her way home. There was a corner store not too far away, so she grabbed her purse and stepped out into the fresh evening air.

Her mind was still with the two new men in her life, wondering what they’d planned for their next adventure. They didn’t talk too much about their own hobbies. Then again, she hadn’t really asked. It wasn’t for lack of wanting to—she had so many questions that she couldn’t possibly ask them all without being rude.

Having collected her milk and standing in front of her door, she fumbled through her purse for her key. She stepped inside, then yelped as she was yanked back by her hair.

“Make a noise and I’ll cut that pretty little face of yours.”

Hearing Troy’s voice was like being doused in ice water. She was teleported back four years, back to being under his thumb.

“Get inside,” he purred, though the threat lay just beneath the surface. “We have so much to talk about.”

He didn’t need to guide her, her body moved on autopilot. She stepped inside, immediately feeling his fingers wrap around her throat.

“You thought you could just walk out on me, huh?”

She knew better than to respond. She simply grit her teeth as one hand tightened in her hair and the other around her throat.

“Four fucking years I prayed to get you back into my hands.”

Troy wrenched her head to the side, running his nose along her neck. Her stomach churned, his hot breath burning a path over her skin. All she wanted to do was fight, but she froze like a deer in headlights.

Troy hummed. “You left me for dead with those men and after I’m done with you, they’re next.”

“Please,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper.

Troy brought his other hand to her neck, his evil laugh shooting ice through her veins. “Oh, you can cry for mercy all you want, Ava, but your fate’s been decided.”

His grip tightened. She clawed at his hands, trying to scratch her way out or disable him. He only clenched harder. Her lungs burned in a desperate attempt to breathe. Fear swept over her, weakening her knees and churning her stomach. She fought with everything she had, but it was in vain. Darkness blurred her vision, creeping in until she was swept away into unconsciousness.

She woke up to the feeling of something cold and metallic pressing against her temple. She stirred, wincing at the hard floor beneath her. Her eyes fluttered open to blurry vision. Slowly, she made out the scene of her living room. Troy loomed over her as she laid in the middle of the floor.

“Oh, no, no, no, sweetheart,” Troy chuckled, gripping her hair once again to hold her head in place.

She blinked, the gun in his hand finally coming into focus. Panic surged through her, her heart racing in her chest.

“Now, you’re going to fix that pretty little face of yours, walk with me to my truck, and get in without a fuss.”

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