Page 36 of Keeping Ava

With another tap, I walk away and toward my room, making a quick stop at the en-suite bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. The phone vibrates again while I’m there, and I figure out who the culprit is.

“Hello, Mother,” I say loud enough that my voice carries in Ava’s direction while entering the office. The door remains open and I pull the phone from my ear, hitting the speaker button so I can scroll through my missed calls. It confirms my suspicions; she’s curious as to why I’ve been avoiding her. “Did someone die or did the house burn down?”

“Don’t get smart, kiddo.” There’s the sound of cutlery and then her sipping something. “Where are you? Are you working his case?”

There it is. She’s worried.

“Yes and no.” Walking around the desk, I sit and lean back, closing my eyes as the scent of fresh coffee infiltrates my senses. “I’m working but can’t share the particulars.”

“Are you being safe?”

“Always.” Knowing what’s coming next, I lean forward and access my laptop to check my email. With the way things are—how Perez and I agree that no one is to be trusted—I made a new account last night that only he has the address for.

“...the family business. You’re killing me, kid.”

“Not happening.” It’s a never-ending conversation. She’s always wanted me to run the publishing house she owns, one that’s been passed down from her grandfather, and it looks like my cousin will take over with my owning shares. They love it, love discovering new authors, but it’s not for me. My passion comes in protecting and serving the citizens of this city. Saving lives is fulfilling—a challenge I thrive on. “But I do have something that might interest you...” I trail off on purpose.

“Tell me.” It’s a demand, and I roll my eyes. She’s where I get it from.

“I’ve met someone.” She squeals so loud that I lower the volume on my phone. There’s some gibberish coming from her between the excited noises women tend to make. “It’s new, but—”

“I need to meet her and...”

I don’t hear the rest as I focus on the screen. More importantly, Ava’s email that for some reason is open and displaying nothing but emails from Jason. Three months’ worth, and each more threatening than the last.

What the fuck? Why the hell didn’t she tell me about these?

“...dinner on Sunday?”

“Mom, I have to go.” A part of me feels bad for cutting her off, but I can’t focus on anything past what I’m seeing. I’m angry. Disappointed because I thought we had established a mutual trust.

“What’s wrong, Elijah? What happened?”

“Work related.” I’m clicking on the first email on this page, reading through lines full of anger and desperation. It’s threatening. A psychotic love note. “I’ll call you later...love you.”

“Okay.”

I don’t wait for her to hang up before I’m standing, tipping my chair back in the process. It creates a domino effect; with the harsh push, it hits the edge of my shelves on its way down and a picture frame meets its demise. The crash is loud, but I could give a flying fuck.

The world around me could explode—shatter into a million pieces—and I still wouldn’t be able to focus on anything but her. The words he sent her. On the slapping of her bare feet on my floor as she races toward this room.

Everything starts and ends with Ava.

Don’t force my hand, Ava.

I’ll kill them all, Ava.

I’m going to break you, my pet. Fucking propel you to the edge of death, Ava, and then bring you back over and over again.

I love you, Ava.

“Christ, Elijah,” she hissed out, hand clutching her chest. “What’s going on? Why do you look like an angry bull ready to plow through a wall?”

“When were you going to tell me?” I know my tone is brusque, harsh, but her distrust hurts more than I ever thought it could. Feels like a betrayal after what’s happened between us: the confession at the pier and then our kiss. Because you love her. Motherfuck, I can’t think about that. Can’t focus on emotions that have no place where only rationality should exist. “Explain.”

“Hold up a second.” Ava holds both hands up in a sign of peace while coming closer. She pauses on the other side of my desk, concern on her features. “I don’t know what happened here, but don’t take it out on me.”

“Jason,” I spit out, flipping my laptop around for her to see, “has been contacting you and I find out by accident? Why are you hiding this?”

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