Page 33 of Call It What You Want
She does, thank God, but I can still feel her watching me. And, deep down, I know the anger and avoidance about my mother is just a deflection, a clumsy way to distract myself from the one thought that’s been humming beneath the surface since I talked to Christian: Ava and I are both fucked.
But then again, I accepted that the night I found out the article about the senator’s death had gone live. And if Ava’s pissed at me now, she’s going to hate me even more when she learns what I have planned—a fate I’ve already made peace with.
Truth be told, when I first set eyes on her years ago, it was like a cyclone had torn through my fucking brain. I knew with bone-deep certainty that my life would never be the same. It felt like falling, like that split second of absolute knowing before youhit the pavement—this is going to hurt like hell, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to stop it.
That’s Ava-fucking-Baldwin in a nutshell. She’s my madness. My obsession. My prison.
She thinks she knows the truth about me, but she doesn’t even know half of it. And even if she’s blind to what really happened that morning in Missouri, she isn’t wrong. I am the reason. I’d dragged her into my chaos and failed her when it mattered most.
But, fuck, when she pushed me away three years ago, it gutted me. The memory comes crashing back…
“I can’t do this,” she whispers, eyes filled with unshed tears. “I can’t be with someone who’s capable of—” She stops herself. She can’t even say it.
I was numb. I couldn’t breathe. Her words sliced into me with precision, cutting away that beating organ that gave me life.Shewas my heart.Shegave me life. And when she was gone, I spiraled into a dark pit I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
But here she is now, close enough that I can smell the soap on her skin, close enough to see the stubborn set of her jaw, the way her eyes flash when she’s trying to prove a point.
I pull into Rush House’s long driveway, kill the engine, then turn to face her. “The Burning Crown is hosting a ceremony tonight,” I say. “I want you there.”
“But I’m not a member.”
She knows the basic rules. When we were dating, she was so curious about the Burning Crown. Our rules, our tenets, our rituals. Every secret was a spark to her, and she leaned closer to the fire with wide eyes and parted lips. She wanted to know why we did the things we did, what it meant, what it cost. I fed her scraps of information and watched her soak up every word.
I shrug. “We’ve made exceptions in the past.”
Confusion sets into her green eyes. “Why me?”
“You’ve always been curious about what happens during a ritual.”
“That was years ago,” she says. “I’ve gotten over my curiosity.”
I lift a brow. “Have you?”
Silence. I already know I’ve hooked her. Curiosity sparks in her eyes.
“You really think the other Sacred Sons will allow me to watch?” she asks cautiously, like she doesn’t want to seem too interested.
“I’mallowing it, Ava. They wouldn’t dare challenge me.”
And that’s the truth. The Sacred Sons might rule as equals, but there are lines we don’t cross, uncharted waters we don’t wade into. And Ava? She’s mine.
“Well, okay, then. But I’m just watching. I’m not participating.”
“Obviously,” I say, knowing she’ll never forgive me for what’s about to happen next. But some things are more important than forgiveness...
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ava
Secret societies have always fascinated me, especially after finding out Jackson’s family basically founded one. And me, being seventeen from a tiny town in Missouri, I was totally swept up by Jackson’s stories about the Burning Crown. For over a hundred years, every McKnight son has been born into it. In his family, it’s not a choice. It’s an expectation.
We’re parked in the driveway of Rush House, and Jackson’s leaning back in his seat, one arm draped casually over the steering wheel. When he turns to look at me, my heart does a hardthump.Even after everything, he still has that effect on me.
“Go on inside,” he says. “Straight up to my room.”
With my hand on the door handle, I hesitate. “Aren’t you coming?”
Jackson drops his head and takes a heavy breath, the kind that means something’s brewing beneath the surface. “There’s someone I need to talk to. But I’ll be back before the ceremony tonight.”
