Blue Horizons (A Horizons Novel Book 1) (38 page)

This was such a bad,
bad
idea.

I swallow to try and hold down the utter and complete humiliation I feel.

Her eyes come back to mine and her eyebrows raise in question. Yeah, I’d be questioning me too.

I need to get out of here—immediately.

Why won’t my feet move?!

Three seconds later, a little brown-haired boy peeks out from around her legs and I gasp at the sight of him. I knew he existed, but actually seeing him in the flesh just makes this so much more real and so much worse.

Am I the other woman? Why isn’t she trying to hide this from him? Is he going to remember me showing up at their door?

Oh my God.

“Who’s this, mama?” he asks. His voice is so sweet and so innocent.

She wraps her arm around his shoulders and with her eyes locked on mine, she quietly says, “This is Avery.”

She knows my name.
Of course she knows my name
. But if she knows my name, she must know other things too. My face burns with embarrassment.

I can’t be here.

I can’t be a part of this.

Turning around, I wrap my coat around me more tightly and start walking quickly to my car. My chin quivers, and cold, wet flakes hit my face as my eyes flood with tears. My body feels numb from a lack of oxygen, so I suck in air through my nose to try and catch my breath.

This is horrible.

I’m devastated and drowning on the inside.

“Avery, wait!” I hear her call after me.

No way.

I am not going to stand here and subject myself to her questioning and judgment.

Why would he do this? Why would he ask me to be his and then bring her here?

I feel naïve and stupid. I feel tricked and used. I feel like succumbing to the grief that’s weighing me down, and it’s then I feel the footsteps behind me.

Is she coming after me? My heart starts racing even more.

No
, he’s coming after me and my vision tunnels and darkens.

No! No! No!

This is not happening to me. Not here and not in front of her.

Looking down, I focus on the snow, on my boots, and the dark purple color of my coat. I need to stay in the present and not slip into the past.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

The crunching of footsteps behind me increases and grows louder. The driveway begins to disappear, and in an instant, it flashes to the hallway. The whiteness of the snow fades to darkness and tears drip down my face.

Wet snow on my face . . . cold rain soaking my skin.

The crunch of gravel . . . the roll of thunder.

Pounding footsteps . . . chasing footsteps.

Light . . . dark.

It’s going to happen.

It is happening.

Conscious chaos.

It's like it doesn't matter where I am, who I'm with, or what we’re doing. It's so sudden and so quick that I can’t even catch the transition into the vortex of complete and utter bedlam.

Panic swirls through me and I’m back there, in the dark, in the hallway, and as hard as I try, I know I’m not going to be able to escape him.

“Juliet, no!” I hear a guy’s voice behind me, and it’s then I feel the hand.

The pressure . . . the grip.

The restraint.

The pain.

PULLING THE KAYAK in, I hear Clay’s voice, and then I hear the scream. Whiskey and I both turn toward the house, and he takes off.

What the hell is going on?

Following closely behind him, I round the corner just as Clay bends over and picks someone up off the driveway. Blonde curly hair drapes over his arm and I think my heart stops.

She came!

She actually came. I don’t know why I didn’t think she would, but here she is, and it’s then I realize she’s hurt. Hysteria shoots through me, and then complete agony.

“What happened?” I yell, running to them and taking Ava from him. Her eyes are closed and blood is dripping down the side of her face. Clutching her to my chest, I gasp for air to keep myself from losing it.

“I don’t know.” There are tears in Juliet’s eyes as she sweeps Ava’s hair off of her face. “I tried to stop her, but when I touched her, she kind of freaked out, slipped, and hit the ground.”

Glancing at Clay, I know he knows, but Juliet doesn’t.

The thought of her having another panic attack and me not being here to protect her is almost too much to handle. She got scared and had to experience that asshole in her mind all over again. I desperately want those memories diminished, not enhanced. Sucking in my irritation, I push past them both, and head straight to my room. Bryce is in the corner by the couch—I hate that this is scaring him.

“Clay, grab a washcloth and let’s see if we can get the bleeding to stop,” I toss over my shoulder.

Ava groans in my arms, her face scrunches up in pain, and she turns, snuggling into my chest.

Lying her down on my bed, her eyes open and she blinks at me.

Blue to blue.

My heart stops as I fall into the ocean of her eyes.

Seconds pass as we stare at each other, and Clay runs in with a towel. Her eyes cut from me to him, and then to Juliet who is on the other side of me. Ava’s eyes widen and panic streaks across her face.

“Here,” Clay shoves it at me. I take it and press it gently to her head. She winces and tries to pull away from me. Yeah no, I hate to break it to her, but I am done with her pulling away. She’s here, which means she’s mine, and despite everything at the moment, I am so happy.

Holding the towel to her head, it quickly fills with red.

“Shit.” I know head wounds have a tendency to bleed a lot, but this seems excessive. I pull the towel away to get a better look. There at her hairline, the skin is split open, and it’s too much. She’s going to need stitches.

Replacing the towel, my eyes find hers just as they start to water. Looking away from me, she closes her eyes and her chin starts to quiver.

“Ava.” She squeezes them tight. “Please keep your eyes on me.” The demand in my tone is soft, but it can’t be missed. She opens her eyes and I fall all over again.

I would be lying if I said I’m calm and under control. Because I’m not.

This time when we go into the urgent care, two things happen. One, we are recognized, and two, every person working there remembers us and eyes me suspiciously.

Yes, I understand that us showing up with injuries twice in two months doesn’t look the greatest, but I would never lay a hand on her and they make me feel like the bad guy I’m not. Sideways glances, whispering, frowning, I’d bet just about anything that tomorrow’s headlines call me abusive.

On top of that, Ava does what Ava does, and she closes in on herself. The entire drive there, she keeps her head on the window with her eyes shut. In the examining room, she talks to the nurses and doctors, but never me. And on the way back, the only thing she mumbles is that she wants to go home. By the time we pull up to the house, my nerves feel like they’re about to explode.

Cutting the engine, I look over to Ava and she is studying her car. Her car is the only one in the driveway, both Juliet’s and Clay’s are gone. I briefly wonder where they’ve gone, and then decide I don’t care.

“Thank you for taking me,” she says quietly, before looking over at me.

She looks tired. She looks sad. She looks small all tucked into her coat.

Desperate to talk to her, I ask the first question that comes to mind.

“Did you just fly in this morning?”

She frowns and drops her eyes to her hands. Both of them are sitting in her lap, and her left hand starts tapping on her leg.

“Yes,” she answers, as I reach across the truck and lay my hand over hers. She links her fingers through mine and lets out a sigh.

“You must be exhausted. Let’s get you inside so you can rest for a bit.”

She looks around the driveway again, and her right hand reaches up to touch the bandage on her head. I wish I could understand what she’s thinking; I hate that she’s not talking to me.

“Okay.” She slides out of the truck and I do the same, quickly catching up to her to help her across the driveway.

Whiskey bolts out the door and I yell, “Heel.” Clay and I have been trying to train him and I’m praying the newly learned command will work.

He stops midstride, and cocks his head at us. I know him, she knows him, and he is five feet away from ramming his head into her leg. I’m certain she has bruises from falling; I just don’t know where yet.

He follows us into the house, and it’s very quiet. Ava pulls away from me and wraps her arms around her stomach.

“Actually, Ash, I think I’m going to go ahead and go.” She looks around the living room and then to the front door.

“What? Why? You just got here.” I walk into the kitchen and stare at her from across the island.

No girl has ever confused me before like this one. Yes, she’s been a mystery from the beginning, and yes, she’s been a puzzle that took me a while to put together, but she let me. She let me in, and I am not letting her go. She came all this way because of me, because of us, and once and for all, we’re gonna talk. There’s no way I’m letting her leave until she tells me exactly what happened.

“You have company, and I don’t think I should be here.” Her eyes fall to Bryce’s plastic plate sitting on the counter. Does she not like children?

Next to the plate, there’s a note. I pick it up and see it’s from Jules.

Hey,

Thanks so much for letting us crash this week. I do still love coming here, and it was much needed. Sorry for the hasty departure, but given the situation, I’m thinking you probably want the house to yourselves. I also think you’re right, it’s time to stop hiding and give myself a chance. Please tell Avery that I can’t wait to meet her and I’m sorry if I played any part in her confusion. Good luck, big brother! Hopefully, I’ll be hearing good news from you . . .

Oh, Clay spoke to his friend, Emma, so the three of us are headed to her house. We’ll see you tomorrow.

Love, Jules

Well, there you go. I no longer have any company, so there’s no reason for her to leave. Not wanting there to be any more barriers, secrets, miscommunication, or anything between us, I walk the letter over and hand it to her to read.

Her eyes scan over the words twice as she bites on her bottom lip. I lean backward against the island, cross my arms over my chest, and watch for any clue of what she’s thinking.

“Brother,” she says quietly to herself.

“Yeah, she loves to call me that, even though I’m only older than her by two weeks.”

Ava’s eyes flash up to mine and her fingers clench the letter. Her forehead wrinkles in confusion and she shakes her head like she has no idea what I’m talking about.

Turning away from me, she walks into the living room and slowly sits down on the couch. I follow her, pick up the remote to turn on the electric fireplace, and then sit down next to her. Her back is straight and every muscle is tight. I want her warm, and comfortable. I want her to stay.

“But?” She leaves the question lingering in the air, and turns to look at me.

I lean back against the cushions and toss my arm across the back of the couch. “I thought you understood. She’s not just my friend, she’s my family.” I really thought she understood how much my family meant to me.