Page 28 of Break Me
Seven
Ava walksin at the worst time, and it’s my fault.
I had given her the keycode to the condo (which I’ll change immediately after she leaves) and told her my door would be unlocked.
What I hadn’t planned for was the panic attack.
I’m on my knees in the living room, my head in my hands, images of Bianca and the motherfucker she fucked me over with swarming in my head. The sounds she made when she was on all fours, him fucking her from behind. The way he yanked her hair back, grabbed her throat. How she moaned his name.
How if she had told me, I could have warned her.
But she didn’t.
Because she was scared of me, too. And that was before I even went to prison. That was before I was even someone to fear.
I feel Ava’s hand on my back before I even hear her come in. I flinch, instinctively ducking, turning, and shoving her off of me all at once.
She yelps, falling to her ass on the carpet of the living room, and for a split second, I’m still confused.
Then I realize who it is and what I did. I shoot to my feet, my hands on my head.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, taking deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart, taking a step back from her. I wonder if this is what Riley felt like when I showed up in her old apartment and threatened her mom. When I put that blindfold on her at the rental house Caden and I found.
She ended up feeling pretty damn good after that, so I try to tamp down on my guilt, but Ava’s wide eyes aren’t making my feel much better. I take another step back from her and my calves hit the coffee table.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
Ava’s still sitting on the floor, her knees bent, palms behind her. My eyes roam over her lace top, tight jeans, her thick thighs.
My heart starts to pound harder, but thankfully, for a very different reason.
“Are you…are you okay?” she finally asks me, and I see her chest rise and fall slowly, recovering from my outburst.
I nod, hands still on my head. “Yeah, I…” Pull yourself together, Benji. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She cocks her head. “Really?” she tests me, and a smile curves on her lips. “Because you uh, just shoved me away from you, and you looked like you weren’t doing so hot there for a second.” She glances at the floor in front of her, where she just found me.
I put my hands down, run one over my shirt then slip them into my pockets. My heart’s still hammering, my chest tight, but I can fake it. I’m so good at faking shit. “I’m great,” I lie. “How’s your mom doing?”
She opens her mouth to answer me, but then closes it again, realizing what I’m getting at. And shit, even I know it isn’t fair, to turn this on her like that, but…
Her face turns pale and she scrambles back, coming up against the chair behind her.
“How do you know that?” she asks me quietly. She looks terrified.
I shrug. “I know a lot.”
She stands up, backing further away, past the chair. “How?” she presses.
I take a step toward her and she takes one back. But if she keeps going, she’s going to be against a wall.
I wouldn’t mind if she was against a wall right about now, so I take another step. She goes back. Another, and another, and then her back hits the wall and I place my hands on either side of her head, peering down at her.
Now I’m back in my element.
Back in control.
Now this is my playground. The anxiety melts away, replaced with something much more fun: Excitement. I might like to watch, but I like to play, too.
