My hands are held prisoner within his, which he is squeezing tighter
and tighter to stop them from flailing around. I need to hurt him, but sadly,
he is not letting go of my hands anytime soon. But I’m resourceful and
determined to wound him, so I think with my head, or should I say feet. Kicking
him hard in the balls, has him letting go of my hands as he lets out a pained
grunt, holding the parts I just severely injured.
I then begin slapping him, with no preference to what I connect
with. His face, jaw, chest, ear, wherever. Seriously in this moment I don’t
care, just as long as I am hitting him, I am happy.
When I make contact with his face, my ring slices across his cheek,
and I pull away, high fiving myself when I notice I’ve drawn a slither of
blood.
That celebration however is short lived when he hisses out in pain,
quickly placing his hand over his bleeding cheek.
“You little bitch!” he screams, still slightly winded from my
accurate kicking.
However, he surprises me as he slaps me hard across the cheek once,
then twice, and the sound unsettles my brain. Staggering backwards because his
strike has knocked the wind out of my sails, I am horror-struck that he would
hit me, but what he does next, makes his strike look like a lovers caress.
He picks me up by my dress lapels, and I hear something rip, but
that’s the least of my concerns because before I can scream for help, he tosses
me into a huge brass mirror, which is hanging on the opposite wall.
Banging my head on impact, the sound echoes in my ears as the mirror
shatters around me. The hum is almost deafening, and I suddenly feel nauseous
as I wheeze out a breath and slide down the plaster, shards of glass cutting
into my upper body and head. Crumbling into a heap on the carpet, I am holding
onto my ribs as I think they are broken because it hurts to breathe. I know I
have shards of glass imbedded in my entire body, and as I try and straighten
out my spine, I cry out in agony.
But the worse pain I have ever felt is coming from inside my skull.
If I was a Walt Disney cartoon character, I would definitely have little
birdies flying around my head right now.
I am dazed, stunned and I think I might be concussed, as I am seeing
double. But my vision clears as I witness Harper storming over to me, fists
clenched.
Cowering and covering my face with trembling hands, I wait for a
blow to come. And I know that blow is going to knock me out cold.
But it doesn't come, because I hear a voice that is my salvation.
Even though that voice is laced with pure malice and scares me, I embrace the
sound of it.
“You motherfucker! I’m going to...” Jasper takes a steadying breath
before he snarls, “fucking kill you!”
Jasper’s roar hurts my head, and I wince, holding my wavering hand
to my brow. I pull my hand away from my forehead which is sticky and wet. Have
I been crying?
Looking at my palm, I realize it’s not clear, but in fact, it is
red.
What the hell?
My gaze sweeps down my body, and the front of my dress is torn wide
open. In horror, I quickly wipe my hand over my face and head, and it comes
away with more blood. I can feel flecks of glass and brass cemented into my
head, and then I begin to panic.
I look over at Jasper for reassurance that I’m not dying because my
head, God my head hurts, and everything is so hazy. And there is so much blood
running down my face and into my eyes, surely I am going to bleed out.
Jasper looks sweaty and dirty, and his shirt is untucked out of his pants.
His eyes are wide and incensed, and as he takes in my dishevelled form, he
curls up his sinful bow lips, scowling when I whimper in pain.
He gives me one last look, and the rage which is swimming in his
crazed eyes scare me. He then turns slowly and sinisterly, and charges into
Harper.
Harper is caught off balance because of the force, and tumbles to
the floor with Jasper on top of him. Jasper pins Harper with both knees and
then commences punching Harper once, then twice in the face, and the blows he
is delivering are rattling the walls.
Harper is taller than Jasper, so he somehow manages to push him off,
and they both quickly get to their feet. The look on both their faces is
murderous, and I attempt to stand, wanting to aid Jasper in any way that I
can.
Putting my weight on one leg, I cry out as the pain is excruciating
and I tumble to the floor. My cry distracts Jasper as he looks my way, and
Harper uses this to his advantage as he charges towards him. Jasper is prepared
however, and crouches low while delivering an uppercut to Harper’s jaw.
Harper’s head snaps back, and he stumbles backwards, dazed. Jasper then
delivers a quick right hook, and then follows with a left, which totally
disorientates Harper who shakes his head.
Jasper looks over at me to make certain I'm okay, and Harper catches
Jasper off guard by jabbing him in the eye and then the lip. Jasper sways,
shaking his head to clear it, and I cry out, willing my legs move.
“Stop!” I yell, which sends a pain shooting through my skull.
What is wrong with me? This relentless throbbing is the worse pain I
have ever experience before, but I need to get over it, because I need to get
to Jasper.
I attempt to crawl, but crumble not two feet from where I started.
This is so frustrating. Why can’t I move my legs?
Jasper’s lip is bleeding and blood is dripping onto his once white
shirt, but he doesn't stop focusing on Harper, as both boys are stalking one
another, doing a circular dance of who can catch whom first.
Harper spits out blood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I fucked your little whore and she loved it!” Harper sneers,
taunting Jasper.
A war cry rips out of Jasper’s throat, and he dives into Harper’s
middle, head first, which sends them both crashing onto the floor. Jasper comes
out on top, and he begins delivering punch after punch, after punch, after
punch.
Harper tries to kick him off, but Jasper is like a crazed man, and
he won't stop hitting him. And I know I need to stop Jasper before he kills
Harper.
Taking a few deep breaths, I crawl towards him, low on my tummy,
biting back the pain that is radiating throughout my entire body.
The noise of Jasper’s fists pounding into Harper’s face is
sickening, and I crawl faster as Harper is lying motionless under Jasper’s ruthless
fists.
Hot sticky blood is pouring into my eyes, clouding my vision, but I
am determined to get to him. When I finally reach him, I stretch out and put my
shaky hand on his shoulder. “Jasper. Stop.”
But he ignores me like I haven't spoken.
“Jasper, enough,” I say a little louder to be heard over Jasper’s
brutal fists.
But to no prevail.
Jasper is pounding into Harper’s face, and I can hear bone crunching
under the impact. I need him to listen to me, and there is only one way I can.
Tightening my hold on his shoulder, I whisper, “Jasper... I love
you. Please stop. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
I will say it a million times if I have to.
Finally he goes slack under my hands and stops punching Harper, who
looks to be dead. Thankfully his chest is rising, but I have no doubt he’ll
need to go to the hospital.
As Jasper turns to me, dazed and in disarray, I slump into a
relieved heap that he stopped.
His face, arms, shirt, hair... everything is covered in blood. The
reality of the situation kicks in, and I suddenly need to be sick. I try and
sit up but I can’t, so supporting myself on my palms, I slouch into a semi
sitting position and dry heave, but nothing comes up as my stomach is in knots.
And then the tears I have been holding back break free.
“Ava, baby...look at me. There is so much blood. Where are you
hurt?” Jasper asks, frantically brushing my hair off my face, his hands
trembling.
His eyes and hands are quickly assessing every part of me, and his
profound concern makes me cry harder.
He loves me. After all this time, all these endless seconds of
believing he'd forgotten me, he really loved me.
His hands go to the back of my head, and I wince in pain, as he
brushes over a lump that feels like the size of a basketball. When he pulls his
hands away and they are covered in fresh blood, my blood, his eyes become
heated and anxious.
“What happened?” he says softly, trying to calm me. Which is ironic
seeing as his soft tone doesn't match his hard, blood soaked exterior.
When I don’t answer him, he questions again gently, “What happened?”
His blue eyes are searching mine, while stroking my cheeks with his
thumbs, wiping away my falling tears.
“My.. b..b..back..” I stutter. “It h..hurts.” It even pains me to
get those minimal words out.
Jasper looks behind me, and hisses out a breath. He pulls back and
looks at me, his cerulean eyes filled with fear.
“You’re going to be fine, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to
you. I failed you once, I will never fail you again. I’m so sorry baby, please
forgive me,” he says, as tears spill over his cheeks.
His words comfort me, and I know by the look on his face that
something is not right. Judging by the pulling sensation I can feel in my
lumber, I think I may have a piece of glass wedged in there. That might explain
why I have no feelings in my legs. Or it could just mean my spine has taken a
nasty beating.
Suddenly I can't speak or think. Everything that has happened comes
crashing down around me, and I begin hyperventilating. My heart is racing so
quickly, I am sure it's about to burst right out of my chest. And to match my
racing heart, there is a high pitch squealing in my ears, blocking out any
far-off noise. I can’t see, hear, feel or taste.
I'm going to die, I'm certain of it.
I then feel myself moving, but I am unaware of where I am, or where
I am going. I am being wrapped up in a set of strong arms, and my face is
pressed against a warm surface that smells like home.
The blood is whooshing through my ears, running up into my brain,
and I scream because the pressure in my head is unbearable. I feel a warm
breath blow across my bare shoulder and down my back, and as a pressure around
me tightens, I feel a steady heartbeat beating against my frantic one.
Again all these factors ease me somewhat, but it's an echoed voice
that provides me with most reassurance. That voice, that deep familiar voice,
is pulling me out of my black void. It is my tether to remaining conscious and
sane.
I try to focus on that voice, to drag me out of the abyss, before I
am lost forever.
“When I saw you crying on that balcony, I felt your pain and all I
wanted was to wipe away your tears, and make the ache go away. The way you fit
in my arms when I hugged you, it was perfect. You surprised me by turning into
me, and you needed me. I felt guilty because I was enjoying the moment so much,
but having you in my arms felt so right. I was taking everything in. Your
smell. The tiny breaths you took, and the way you clung to me like I could make
everything better. I felt needed and I've never felt that way before. I was
addicted to you from then on.”
All this sounds familiar.
This sounds like my life.
“When I got to know you, you made me feel alive. You made me want to
be a better person because you, you are my everything. Your blushing, your
little intakes of breath when you see me, your clumsiness when I am around you.
All the things you do because of me make me feel like I am ten feet tall. And
they show me you love me as much as I love you.”
My heart begins to decelerate and my breathing slows down, I can
hear him clearer now, as the noise in my ears is fading.
“The night we first made love, I never knew it could be that way
between two people. Your smell. Your taste. Your feel. Everything. You were
made for me. And I knew from that day forward, I would never want anyone other
than you.”
I am starting to remember now.
I'm Ava Thompson. And the person talking to me is my cerulean eyed
angel.
“When you told me you loved me, with your big brown eyes searching
mine, I thought I knew what loving you felt like. But I will never forget the
day you made me feel like I was worth something, when I’ve felt like nothing my
whole life. You make me matter Ava. You're my reason to breathe.”
I can hear Jasper clearly now, as my breathing, my heart, my body is
in sync with his. He is levelling me with his words.
But I still can't move.
“I love you Ava. Come back to me. Baby, please come back to me.”
Chapter 27
Ditto
I
sit upright,
startled by a noise. My hair is sticking to my damp forehead, and there is a
sharp, stabbing pain radiating all over my body.
No jokes, I feel like I have been run
over. Twice.
Taking deep rapid breaths, I dart my eyes
around the darkened room, wondering where I am, and I think back to the last
memory I have.
Jasper.
The last thing I remember is the sickening
sounds of Jasper’s fists punching Harper over and over.
I gasp.
Harper.
Oh my God. Harper. He is the reason behind
my pain.
Scampering up the bed, the headboard
knocks into my back (which hurts like a bitch!), and stops my retreat. Is he
here? Is this where I am?
Letting out a tiny cry, I am blinded by a
bright light, and I close my eyes tight, hoping this is all a dream. Sadly, the
pain is a reminder that I am very much awake.
“Sssh, Ava, sssh, it's me. It’s okay baby.
It’s only me.”
Jasper.
His voice is the sweetest sound one could
hope to hear, after being beaten down by one’s crazy, sociopathic ex.
I slowly open my eyes, and see the face of
my saviour sitting on the edge of the bed beside me. His hair is sticking up
rebelliously, and he looks beat. Thankfully, he isn’t covered in blood like he
was when I remember seeing him last. His eyes are hollowed, and one is swollen
and purple, which matches his puffy, bruised lip. He has grazes marring his beautiful
face and I frown, hating to see him in such a way.
With shaky fingers, I reach out to stroke his wounds.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
My voice sounds hoarse and broken, and I
wonder what the rest of me looks like.
He leans into my caress and exhales a
relieved breath. “I'm fine now that you're awake. You scared me,” he replies as
he turns his lips into my palm, kissing it lightly, before pulling away.
He reaches over to the nightstand, handing
me a glass of water, which I gratefully accept as I down it all in one gulp.
His worried eyes search mine, and when I chew on my lip, I wince in
pain.
“What happened?” I ask, almost afraid of
his answer. “Where’s Har.. Harper?” I stutter, his name feeling like toxin on
my lips.
Jasper flares his nostrils and that angry little vein starts
pulsating under his eye again.
“He's in hospital, although he should be
in a body bag. He broke two of your ribs and bruised your spine. That’s why you
couldn’t move your legs. There was a shard of glass as big as my fist imbedded
into your lower back. Luckily it didn’t sever any nerves and was a superficial
injury. When he threw you,” Jasper says, having a hard time getting the words
out. “You hit your head against the mirror resulting in a mean concussion, and
the amount of glass that cut your head open...” he says angrily, not finishing
his sentence. “Let’s just say, the doctors have been picking glass out of you
for hours and then stitching you back up,” he concludes, his eyes haunted at
the memory.
“Really? So I’ve been to hospital?” I ask, reaching up and touching
my head, but wince out in pain when I run my hand over a gauze pad.
I am having serious memory loss right now and am slightly afraid
this will be permanent.
Jasper nods.
“Why is everything so sketchy? I can only remembering bits and
pieces. I know I had a concussion, but is this normal? This memory loss?”
Thinking back to what I can remember, which is not much, as it feels
like parts of my memory have been wiped, I do remember him talking to me, as
his voice was the only thing pulling me out of oblivion.
“I remember you talking to me,” I say, thinking back to his sweet
words which I only remember part of.
“You went into shock Ava. I couldn’t snap you out of it, so I talked
to you, trying to keep you conscious until the ambulance arrived and took you
into emergency.”
“How long til they arrived?” I inquire curiously.
“About twenty minutes,” he replies, shifting closer to me.
My heart melts.
He spoke to me for twenty minutes, looking after me when I needed
him the most. I wish I could remember what he said to me, because the parts I
do remember, were the most heartfelt things I have ever heard.
Leaning my head onto his shoulder, all I can smell is him, and I
savour the scent. Speaking of scents, I wonder what state I am in right now, as
I have a serious case of cottonmouth and my hair feels like straw.
“What day is it?” I ask pulling away, looking at him.
“Sunday,” he replies.
“What time is it?”
I can’t tell what time of day it is as the heavy curtains are drawn,
shutting the world out.
Looking at his black leather cuff watch he answers, “11:54pm.”
Holy shit, I've been out of it for over twenty four hours!
I look around the room, and for the first time I realize where I am,
and that is not in a hospital bed. I am in Jasper’s room.
“Why aren't I in the hospital?” I question.
Don’t get me wrong. I am thankful I am not stuck in some stuffy
hospital bed, but I feel like I should be. Or at least on some killer drugs to
numb the pain.
He looks at me with a small smile, and my questions have been
answered.
“Veronica?”
“Veronica,” he confirms with a dimpled smile.
I groan when I think about how I all but ruined my best friend’s
wedding. How could I have been so selfish?
Even after everything, she still manages to be there for me, getting
me discharged, as she knows how much I hate hospitals. I cover my face with my
hands because I am such a sucky best friend!
Jasper gently lowers my hands, meeting my eyes, and I admire the
view as he looks like a total badass with a black eye.
“You gave everyone such a scare,” he whispers, frowning.
“I'm sorry.”
I feel like such an ass.
He reaches forward brushing aside my hair. “You've got nothing to
apologize for.”
Yes I do.
This is all my fault. I couldn’t leave well enough alone, and I just
had to confront Jasper when I did. All at once, the fight between us on the
lawn, the hotel, the fight with Harper, comes flooding back to me.
Suddenly, I need to tell Jasper everything.
“You loved me,” I whisper, searching his face. “All this time I
thought you stopped because of what Harper did. The note, the flowers and the
letters, he fucked with it all.”
I feel an internal panic attack approaching as I think about
everything Harper did.
Jasper pulls back quickly. “What do you mean he fucked with the
flowers and the letters?”
“I thought the flowers you sent me were from him. He gave them to me
and pretended he bought them for me. He shredded all your letters Jasper.
Everything you wrote me, I never read. And I wish I did. But Harper did read
them, and that’s how he copied your writing. You must have hated me. Now I
understand why you didn't want to be around me,” I confess, my head lowering in
shame.
Jasper is working his jaw backwards and forwards, and I can actually
hear him grinding down on his jawbone.
“That fucking...” He leaves the sentence hanging, cracking his
knuckles unintentionally.
He shuts his eyes tightly, and blows a calming breath through his
lips. After a few moments of him attempting to calm down, he reopens his eyes and
snarls, “I should finish what I started.”
I latch onto his arm. “No, don't,” I say in a panic, my eyes widening
as I remember the sound of Jasper’s fist connecting with Harper’s face.
It is a sound that will never leave me, but worst still was the
feeling in the pit of my stomach when I watched Jasper being struck. I can’t
withstand to see him be hurt that way ever again. And all because of me.
“What happened baby? Tell me?” Jasper asks, looking at me softly,
not wanting to push.
I take a deep breath because Jasper needs to know it all.
“You were right, he was playing me. All this time Jasper, even when
we were first together, he was using me the whole time. He never loved me. He
saw weakness in me, and he knew he could use that to his advantage. He said I
was a mindless twit, and that he could mould me into whatever he wanted. Wear
what he wanted, ate what he wanted.” I lower my eyes before I continue. “Fuck
like he wanted.”
I am so ashamed of myself.
Again I can hear Jasper’s jaw grinding back and forth.
But I need to clarify something, a BIG something.
“Jasper, what Harper said about us sleeping together...”
Jasper shakes his head, holding up his palms, looking repulsed. “You
don't have to explain.”
“Yes I do, because it's not true. We never did. Ever. I haven't been
with anyone since you.”
Wow, that's kinda pathetic as I'm sure he's been with a laundry list
of girls. I lower my face, wishing I thought before I announced my lameness
aloud.
He pushes up my chin with the back of his fingers. “Me neither.”
Looking at him surprised, my mouth drops open.
“Gee, totally offended you think so little of me,” he chuckles
deeply while closing my gaping mouth with his pointer finger.
“I just thought you and Harmony...” I leave the sentence hanging
because I can’t complete it without vomiting everywhere.
Jasper shakes his head. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else, so you’re
stuck with me,” he replies light heartedly.
This is the best thing I have ever heard, and if my whole body
didn’t feel like it had been put in a cage match with ten UFC fighters, I would
totally be happy dancing.
“So, what happens now?” I question, frightened.
“With what?” he asks, scrunching up his brow.
“With us,” I whisper, afraid of his response.
He softly places my hand in his. “What do you want?”
At the moment a toothbrush, some shampoo and some drugs sound
extremely appealing.
But as I look at him, taking in his messy dark hair, his strong
nose, his perfect jaw, and of course his bright cerulean eyes, there is only
one answer.
“You.”
A slanted smile pulls up at the corner of his lips.
“Ditto.”