Page 66 of Lilies in Autumn

“Mom, I’m sorry,” I hiccup, failing to hold in the sobs that consume me. “I’m s-so sorry for disappointing you.”

“Ava,” she sighs. “I’m worried for you; I’m enraged on your behalf. I could kill this prick that violated your privacy. Am I happy that you had sex in a public space, leaving yourselves vulnerable for something like this? No, I damn well am not. But you are my daughter and I know you. I know that you wouldn’t be with someone unless you cared for them. You love him, don’t you?”

Jesus, way to blow up my damn spot, Deborah. “Yes, Mrs. Gregori, Ava and I love each other.” I elbow Grey in the gut, and he laughs under his breath, almost like I tickled him instead of attacking him with my bony elbow.

“Good. When did this all start?” I detail the timeline and tell my parents about the initial texts and threats, followed by over a month of silence. My mother made me read, verbatim, the text messages that the unknown number sent to both me and Grey, and I sent them screenshots of everything to build a case.

“God, Ava Maria, I could wring your neck for not telling us about this sooner.” My dad sounds exhausted. When he woke up this morning, I doubt he anticipated watching a sex video of his eldest child. He’s probably traumatized.

Same, Dad. Same.

“Greyson, you need to call your parents or guardians immediately and have them give a call to our office. Because you’re a legal adult, you don’t need their consent to have us represent you, but we would feel better to be in contact with them. If you have a family attorney, please give me their contact information, and we will work with them on drawing up all the documents,” my dad says.

He continues, “Now, it’s important that after you call Greyson’s family, you go directly to the police station with all the evidence you have. We need to build a criminal case against this asshole to make sure that their lives are ruined. This will help us present evidence to the school to ensure that there are no ramifications for your little morning delight.” I cringe at his description and just barely prevent myself from gagging. “We will meet you both there.”

“Ava?” my mom’s voice rings through the line. “Don’t forget, we love you and will move mountains to bring this asshole to justice. Just, don’t ever have sex in public again, please.”

We trade a few more words with my parents before we hang up, promising to let them know as soon as we leave for the West Helm precinct. Based on the situation, that call could have gone significantly worse.

“That wasn’t too bad,” I mutter, turning to Grey and holding out my phone for him. There’s no way that his phone survived his attack against the cabinets, so he’ll need to call his dad from my cell. “Here, call your dad. Do you want me to give you a minute?” He grasps my hand, shaking his head.

“No, we’ll do this together. Just don’t expect my dad to be as calm as your parents.”

“You think my parents were calm?” I nearly laugh. They may have been in lawyer mode during the call, but I know that their blood is raging through their veins.

“Just, trust me. I need to text him first to let him know it’s me so that he’ll answer.” Grey types out a text, putting an emoji of an orange at the end of his text.

“Did you just text your dad an orange?”

He offers a half smile. “A lot of people try to get my dad’s number; some have even claimed to be me for an exclusive.” He rolls his eyes. “When I was fifteen and tried to call him from a friend’s phone when mine died, he didn’t answer because he figured it was a reporter. We realized that I needed a way to signal it’s me so that he won’t ignore it.”

Well, that’s extremely freaking paranoid, but I can’t deny that it makes sense based on his dad’s level of fame within the sports community. I don’t even like sports, and I’ve seen his documentary and know who he is by sight.

“Okay, but why an orange?”

“I’m allergic to oranges, so we figured no one would guess that shit.”

I open my mouth to question him further—are we talking about itchy throat allergic or death allergic?—when my phone rings. Grey must recognize the number because he picks it up immediately and puts it on speaker.

“Greyson, what the fuck is going on?” His dad’s voice booms through my speaker, and I wince at the volume and tone of voice.

Grey looks at me and mouths, “Told you.”

“Greyson, are you fucking there? Why the fuck did I get a video of you and a young woman this morning?”

My eyes widen and I feel my cheeks flush. My boyfriend’s dad has seen me naked with his son’s head between my thighs. Will there be an end to this mortification, or will I die first? I feel Grey’s hand cover mine, loosening my grip on his comforter until he cradles my palm in his hand.

“Dad, that’s Ava, my girlfriend. The woman I told you about.” He looks over at me and I already know where he’s headed. I shake my head, trying to silence the words I know are about to tumble out of his mouth. “She’s here with me now.” I shoot him my dirtiest look, but he ignores me.

“Hello, Ava,” his dad responds, his voice losing a bit of its gruffness at his acknowledgment of my presence.

“Hello, Mr. Jansen. I’d say it’s nice to meet you but, um, under the circumstances, not so much.”

“I’d say you’re right, young lady. But please, call me Greg. Now, Greyson, tell me what the hell is going on and whose head needs to roll.”

“Jesus, Dad, chill with the ‘young lady’ shit, you’re not even forty.” Grey launches into the same explanation that I gave my parents, detailing the threatening texts and the hostility Felicity showed me at every encounter. He spends ten minutes outlining how we got to this fucked up situation before he finally stops for breath.

We’re met with silence on the line before Greg replies in a cold, menacing voice, “I will fucking end them.” Goosebumps erupt down my spine at the open hostility and foreboding in his words; it’s easy to see where Grey got his intense personality.

---