Page 100 of Her Faithful Protector

“You never hurt me, Jack. And you’re not broken.” Her grip on my hands turns gentle, her eyes understanding. “We’reworking on it. I keep a safe distance when it happens, and it hasn’t been as violent as that one morning.”

“How am I meant to confront him?”

“With me,” she determines, then engulfs me in her arms.

It’s moments like these that remind you why fighting alone is the way of the doomed. Partners may come and go, affiliations form and break. Nothing in life is permanent, nothing is faultless. I’m aware a man can never be perfect. But I know I’m whole because this amazing woman is by my side.

Ava pulls herself away so she can appraise me. “Meeting Scalpel won’t cure your nightmares, but those demons will know they’re dealing with both of us now.”

I take her left hand, breathing into her soft knuckles. She has left her prosthetic at the hotel to avoid any complications during entry into the prison. The authorities have strict visit regulations. Even bras with underwire can result in lengthy searches.

If Ava can get over her nightmare of losing her finger, I should be strong enough to handle Scalpel.

Ava stands in front of me, her stature below my shoulder. I can still see the house behind her, unobstructed. Despite this, her aura is larger than her physical presence as she speaks. “Your nightmares and heartbreak will always be a part of you, but perhaps they won’t cripple you as much as they do now.”

Pausing, Ava tilts her head in thought and then adds, “Actually, I take that back. You were never crippled. You’ve been fighting your nightmares for me and for yourself—and I believe you’ve risen above them.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re here. You could’ve walked away from me, dealing with your nightmares as you always knew how—in private. But you didn’t. You’ve chosen to face them with me.”

Those words fill me with a newfound sense of liberation. Iwon’t let John Cooper break me ever again. I’m not my nightmares. I’m fighting them. She said it. I swear on God’s name, she’s the only one I’ll ever believe in.

Checking her watch, Ava glances at me and says, “It’s time.”

We enterthe Florida State Prison with Ava acting like my bodyguard. She leads the way as if making sure I never step onto unfamiliar territory. After going through several checkpoints and getting searched, we enter the visiting room, where an officer ushers us to a table.

I turn to Ava, appreciating her effort to be my guardian angel today. “I’m okay now,” I tell her.

As we wait, inmates begin to emerge. Finally, the last man walks out and takes a seat at the table next to us.

“We’ve been stood up,” I complain to Ava in a whisper. It seems the coward couldn’t bring himself to face me.

Ava asks the guards for information, but their responses leave us empty-handed.

Just as we’re about to lose hope, a silhouette emerges. The stocky figure moves with a noticeable limp. Nothing about him strikes a chord of recognition except for his long, dark hair. Its thin strands possess a slight wave, tangled in places.

Clad in his prison garb, John Cooper appears puffed up with edema. There are no distinctive features on his face—so ordinary that he could pass for anyone walking by on the street. As I had hoped, the monster is toothless.

Prepared as I am for this moment, being in the same room as the haunting monster rekindles my primal urge. My fingers tingle, itching to wrap around his neck and delight in the crunch as his throat snaps.

Ava’s touch on my hand dissolves the thought, guiding me back to my safe place.

“John Cooper.” I greet him in a dull manner, stripping away any sense of significance he might have.

The sixty-year-old man scoffs, rolling his eyes with disinterest. But he has no choice; he has to face me. I observe the creases on his face as he forces a smile, perhaps thinking this meeting was a joke. For so long, I could only imagine what he looked like based on slivers of clues from my nightmares. In my mind, he remained forever in his thirties. Now, seeing him as an ancient warlock, years of torture felt like a mere second.

Cooper leans forward. “What’s your name again? It’s completely escaped me. No offense, I just have too many to remember,” he dribbles, moving his mouth as if gritting a toothpick.

I stay silent, keeping things to myself.

His attention shifts. “But this lovely lady? Now, that is a face to remember.” He leers at Ava. “What’s your name, honey?”

Ava stares at Cooper with venom in her eyes, showing her amputated finger as a warning. Damn, the man looked away. I bet he has never encountered someone like Ava West before.

“She’s my girlfriend,” I declare firmly, wrapping my arm around her waist, keeping her close.

Cooper twists his mouth as if he were spitting out the invisible toothpick. The scumbag knows I’m no longer his victim. He’s alone, paying for his crimes, while I stand on the other side, a free man.

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