Page 116 of Fearless

“Yes, sir–” she began with a sigh, and was interrupted by a knock at the clubhouse’s front door.

All of them glanced around, frowning.

“Who the fuck knocks around here?” Aidan asked.

A moment later, the door opened, sunlight streaming in thick shafts across the floor, and Ronnie stepped in, timid and hesitant. Behind him was Sergeant Fielding.

“Um, he said he needed to talk to you.” He jerked his thumb at Fielding.

Ava felt her father’s murderous gaze and leapt to her feet. “Come on, Ron.” She grabbed him by the sleeve on her way past. “Let’s get some fresh air.”

He followed without protest, hurrying after her down the hall and out into the slanted sunlight that came up under the portico. Mercy was gone – thank God – and Fielding’s cruiser was parked at an obnoxious angle behind the bikes. Ava could hear the drone of engines and knew that more were incoming. Time for church. Time to talk about the Carpathians being right out on Main Street.

She ended up sitting on top of a picnic table without really thinking about it. Ronnie climbed up beside her, not crowding her, and she took a moment to remind herself that she hadn’t come home alone; she’d brought this boy – this man – who she was sleeping with and living around…and waswith.

Falling back into the past had painted her present in a strange light; she felt slightly dizzy, sitting here with Ronnie, not quite able to believe that this was her boyfriend – in his polo shirt and designer jeans – and that Mercy was just this cruel man who liked to torture her emotions when he got the chance. She hadn’t ever counted on a future that didn’t include the club. She had trouble rectifying this new version of herself with the girl she’d been remembering.

She took a deep breath, forced herself to stay rooted in the Now. “How were the apartments?”

He shrugged. “Not bad. One was your typical builder-grade thing, big complex, cheap walls. One was right by the school. And there was a third, it was in the center of town, a little set of rooms for rent above Walton’s Bakery.”

Ava felt the electricity move through her, the sudden shock and the heart-tearing remembrance: Mercy’s place, with shelves full of paperbacks and one clean towel in the bathroom and the TV murmuring in the background, a Sean Connery James Bond movie because the actor reminded Mercy, a little, of the beloved father he’d lost in the swamplands of Louisiana. The smell of the place reared up in the forefront of her mind, the old dusty floorboards, and the exact goldenrod shade of sunlight through the window that overlooked the street. The low hum of traffic passing through the stoplights down below. The scent of fresh bread wafting up.

“No,” she said, slicing a hand through the air.

Ronnie lifted his brows. “No to what?”

“Don’t take the place above the bakery.” She’d be damned if she soiled Mercy’s old place with new memories.

Soiled? Oh, shit, she was falling backward, getting sucked in, letting herself be warped.

She looked at Ronnie pleadingly. “That’s not the place for you. Trust me.”

He lifted his hands as if to sayhold off. “Yeah. Okay. The one by the school is nicer anyway.”

She took a deep, shaky breath, and forced the apartment back where it belonged, in her memory. Regroup, she told herself. “The apartment by the school–” she began.

The same moment Ronnie said, “That cop–”

They both fell silent, looking at each other, blinking. Ava was acutely aware of the way they’d fallen out of step with each other the moment they’d crossed the city limit. They were tripping over each other, awkward and mumbling, and their thoughts were running on parallel tracks, monorails that would never touch.

Was being back home wrecking her?

Or had this thing with Ronnie always been playacting?

Ava took another breath and said, “You go first.”

He studied her first, his gaze detached. “That cop in there – he seemed kind of pissed off.”

Careful, a voice chimed in the back of her head.Don’t be too casual with him. At UGA, she hadn’t felt the need to filter herself. Now she chose her words with care, cautious not to say anything too…outlaw.

“Sergeant Fielding has known the family a long time,” she said, propping her arms behind her on the tabletop. Laid back. Relaxed. “He wishes he didn’t have to deal with us.” Quick smile she didn’t feel.

Ronnie snorted, some of his usual charm creeping back into his grin. “I can’t imagine why. Your dad being so solicitous and all.”

Ava’s grin warmed. “Oh, come on. That’s no way to be. He won’t let you go on the father/son fishing trip if you’re a smartass.”

“Ha.”

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