Page 1 of Keeping Ava

Chapter 1

Ava

That Night…

“Jesus, it’s hot,” I whisper under my breath, walking down an empty street toward my home. It’s late. The area is quiet at this time of night, and I decide at the very last minute to take a shortcut—to walk through a dirt road—between my block and the two that follow near the back end of the street.

My home sits at the center of my street, and while I usually avoid poorly lit areas, I’ll be home quicker if I cross in between. Just two more streets, and my poor, tired body will be able to crash for the day.

In the silence of the night, an owl hoots and I look up to see him perched along the power line. He’s watching, creepily, head slightly to the side as I pass beneath him. My footsteps on the ground are nearly as loud, and yet, when a woman’s screams rent the air suddenly, I freeze. The sound is bone chilling, and fear takes over my limbs as everything around me goes still. Quiet.

The hell? I cock my head, leaning back a bit to see if another sound follows, but I’m met with nothing. A deathly nothing. An eerie nothing.

“Keep walking, Ava. It’s just your imagination messing with you.” I force myself to take a step, and then another, cursing my newest shop assistant for burning two trays of muffins until they were nothing but a charred crisp. The incident/disaster has taught me two valuable lessons today:

Cleaning trays with burned bananas is a nightmare.

That, and walking home along an empty road is idiotic, especially on a night where it seems the neighborhood is desolate. Where is everyone?

“Come on. Just a little bit…fuck.” It leaves me on a gasp when a crash sounds nearby and another cry of pain follows. My eyes shift around, and I notice there’s only two houses near this end—what looks to be a cul-de-sac—and the lot beside me on the left is empty.

Moreover, the overgrowth partially blocks my view past that.

My hand trembles as I pull out an old cell phone from my pocket, and even more so when I dial 911. An operator answers, asking me how he can help, but words evade me.

“Please stop!” the woman being attacked yells out, and my chest grows tight. It’s painful to breathe.

“Shut the fuck up,” another voice hisses, and the echo of a hard smack comes next. She sobs, the cries becoming louder, and I can’t explain why it sounds as if they are closer. “You deserve this and so much more.”

Oh God. I begin to shake because I know this voice. The low timbre conjures images of him coming into my shop. Of him asking me on a date.

Telling me that one day I would be his…

“Is someone there? Please don’t hang up,” the operator begs, and I nod, letting out a low whimper as another strike meets my ears. More pleas from this woman. His sick laughter. “Help is on the way. Don’t move.”

However, I don’t listen.

Unbeknownst to me, I’m walking toward them. Close enough that the smell of garbage hits my senses, and I crinkle my nose. The old home dead center on this cul-de-sac is where the noise comes from; I’ve seen this place a few times and have never given it a second look. It’s nothing special.

A company’s truck sits in the driveway, though, and a small flicker of light comes from a partially open window near the right side. There’s no gate to block my entry, and I don’t stop until I’m standing beneath it and rising onto the tip of my toes.

At once, my eyes close and the world becomes a muffled sound.

I’m afraid. Probably stupid. Not ready, but what if I can save…

Another blood-curdling scream. Another dark chuckle.

My eyes snapped open, and the scene before me causes my throat to seize. There’s so much blood, and the woman looks to be near unconsciousness. There are several cuts down her tied arms and one across her upper chest—they don’t look deep, but her life’s essence flows down her flesh in little rivulets of pain.

“Your life for hers. Consider yourself useful, sweetheart.” Jason sweeps a finger down her cheek before placing both hands at her throat. Her body thrashes, and everything around me comes back into focus—a sharp smack to my senses.

I scream.

The sound is loud and full of the utter fear coursing through my veins. Panic claws its way through my limbs, and his face snaps in my direction, eyes dark and lips curling into a demonic sneer.

“Ava,” he hisses and rushes to what I can only assume is the front door. My eyes shift to the woman, and I see that her chest is still rising. It’s slow, but she’s alive and that’s all that matters. If I can keep him away until the cops… “Where the fuck are you, love?”

“Get here quick, or you’ll have two dead bodies,” I choke on a whisper and take off toward the back of his home. It’s dark and I can barely see, but I don’t stop. He’s cursing and coming closer—his shoes sound heavy, stomping on the grass as he makes his way toward the back.

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