5 Weeks Previous
I adjust my sweater's pleated sleeves and shift my weight on the velvet couch, waiting for Ava to respond. The softness of the fabric molds around me, providing a sense of comfort as anxiety builds.
"How's the search going?" Ava deflects, taking a massive bite of her croissant, the pastry flaking as her teeth slice through the golden crust. My lips twitch as I see her warm brown eyes light up with pleasure. Good food is almost as good as good sex!
"Ava?" I scold, knowing she's intentionally changing the subject—a tactic she often uses when she wants to avoid answering something.
"Seriously," she continues, still munching, "let's talk about you for a bit, then I'll fill you in on my date with Liam tomorrow night."
I smack her leg, causing a glare from her, but fuck her. I'm not backing down. She's a master of manipulation, second only to one other person. I decide to let it go, considering what she's been through. For now, I can play nice. "Unfair, Ava, you play dirty." I pout, emphasizing the word 'dirty.'
"You know it," she smiles back at me, her grin reaching her eyes, and I can see some of her old sparkle returning.
Taking a moment, I truly look at her, internally cringing as I see the impact of what she's been through. Her normally dewy complexion is now dry and worn, and dark bags rest under her eyes. She's still not sleeping.
It's been a week since I found her on the interstate—panicked, dehydrated, and an absolute mess. If ass wasn't already dead, I'd personally track him down and give him a taste of his own medicine. Starting with his penis, the mother... Grrrrr, CRISPY!!!
Taking a deep breath, I pull my dark hair to one side and twirl the ends. "Still nothing. You'd think they'd have released my records by now, but getting information out of the Sisters of Sacred Mercy is like pulling teeth—fucking painful."
I mean, how hard can it be? I never knew my biological parents. My earliest memory is the nuns chastising me for showing emotion before my handlers came for me when I was a pre-teen. Before that, my memories are non-existent, and no one has been able or willing to tell me why.
The search to know more about my origins is a priority. The Petrovs, my trainers have always been opposed to me exploring my past. But with time running out, I need to find them.
"Anyway," I add, recalling my last conversation with the administrator, "they said I should have the records within the next few weeks. But hey, it's been 28 years. What's another 30 days?" I try to keep it light, but inside, I'm churning with frustration at the delay.
"What about Geoff?" Ava asks, still trying to keep the focus on me.
Geoff? Oh, fuck. "Hmmm," I reply, trying to come up with a plausible excuse about what happened to Geoff.
"Hmmm?" She responds, raising one of her light brown eyebrows.
Damn, I need time to... "You know, hmmm," I offer, still searching for the right words.
"So, no more Geoff!" She concludes, chuckling and taking another bite of her croissant.
Thank you. I mutter under my breath. Ava probably thinks Geoff is just another one of my FB's. I hate lying to her, but I don't want her involved in that aspect of my life.
Letting her assume I'm still a man-eater, I pick at my nails and feign a bored expression. "Wouldn't say that. I'm just not that into him."
Chuckling again, Ava pats my thigh. "Maybe you need to talk to Angela about your attachment issues."
I ignore her, I don't need a therapist to tell me I have issues. I know that. I wave my hand to signal Gerald to top up my drink, refocusing the conversation on her. "Okay, bitch, your turn. Spill!"
"So, I finally decided to listen to his messages."
Ah, Liam, the handsome non-kidnapper. "About time," I drawl. I don't think Ava should jump into anything right now, but if Liam makes her happy, I'm all for it, especially with my time to watch out for her limited.
"Do you want to hear the goss or not?" She grumbles as we accept our new drinks from Louise, one of Gerald's waitresses. I nod at Ava, to continue.
"Okay, so I listened to his messages. They weren't as bad as I thought."
What? No, I mean, duh! "Told you." Ava can be shy around men, even before her attack. I swear, I wondered if her vagina worked at all.
Glaring at me and crossing her arms over her chest, she sighs, "okay, sorry, Mom, I'll behave." Taking a sip from her fresh mug, she continues to share the details. God, I hate waiting! Why can't people get to the point? I prefer the trailer version of conversations, but others want to give me the whole damn movie with extended scenes. Okay, so I'm impatient, some of the time. Okay, maybe all the time.
"Anyway," Ava breathes, "he was just worried about me, didn't mention anything about, you know. He did mention, however, that the 3rd man killed was that creep, Russell."
"The one who attacked you in the parking lot?" I ask. Another asshole I'm glad is no longer breathing. Seriously, why do some men think they have rights over a woman's body?
Ava nods, "yep, seriously Erin, I keep thinking that my captor was the one who saved me that night, and... God, I don't even want to think about if he was involved." Maybe Mr. Kidnapper isn't all that evil.
Sighing, she takes another sip, holding onto her mug like it's a lifeline. "So, anyway, umm, Liam may have mentioned being close by tomorrow and wanted to take me out for dinner, and I said yes."
I clap my hands and hoot. "Location? PLEASE tell me he's coming to your place???"
Looking down at her coffee, she grins and nods.
"Hell yeah, there's my girl." It breaks my heart knowing that I'm pushing her into this potential relationship, but Ava needs someone in her life.
"Hey, did you get a response from the Murphys? I really don't think they'll care about the state of the cabin." I question, finally remembering to raise ask.
"Nope, still nothing." A flash of guilt crosses her face before she drops her head ever so slightly. After escaping from her attacker, who held her captive for several days at her family friend's cabin, Ava has tried multiple times to contact the owners to apologize for leaving their holiday home in that state, but I think they're still overseas. She's also outwardly refused to go back there to collect her items, and I don't blame her one bit.
"Well, you shouldn't worry. The Murphys love you, and who wouldn't? I mean, you have me as a BFF," I smirk, hoping to ease some of her worries.
Laughing at my comment, she goes over her plans for tomorrow evening—what she's cooking, what she's going to wear, etc.
Distracted by her animated chatter, I glance down at my watch to check the time and curse, mentally berating myself before standing up. "Shit, gotta bail chica," I tell her, grabbing my purse and dusting off any potential crumbs that may have embedded themselves into my clothes.
"Have a meeting with the Burnsteins to go over their proposal for their last few locations, and yes, I'm looking after them for you." I lie, knowing that she'll accept my word and not push for more details.
Seeing guilt reappear on her face, I internally kick myself. I know she'll blame herself for my sudden exit and for taking more time away from work. I should've handled this better. "Stop that," I scold, shifting gears and going into damage control. "You deserve this time, Ava, and it's not like I'm super busy." Okay, that comment is mostly true. The majority of my tasks involve wining and dining key accounts, which is the professional term for looking after my family's community.
Peering down at her, I smile, "now that your major upgrades have finished, and the next big project won't start for another six months, enjoy this time. I certainly would if I were you!" Knowing that my time at Protech is coming to an end, I add, "actually, I might even take some time off myself once the Burnstein project is complete. And given all your groundwork, it should be done by the end of the week."
Nodding, Ava stands and wraps her arms around me, her vanilla and jasmine scent warming me from the inside as I breathe her in. Patting her back before releasing her, I wink. "I'll come over Sunday afternoon, and you can give me the low down, but text me if you aren't alone. I wouldn't want to interrupt."
Seeing the smile return to her face warms my heart. Ava is my only real friend. My only family, or at least the only one I care about. Knowing she'll be okay makes what I need to do more bearable. Turning to leave, I head towards Gerald, who's waiting to hug me just in front of the exit. He pulls me in closer, his massive arms embracing me as he whispers into my ear, "cutting it a bit fine, little one? You know he won't be pleased if you're late."
Sighing, I let go and step back. Gerald is another member of my family's community, one of the few I can tolerate. I've known him and his partner since I became a Petrov, and I've sought sanctuary in his coffee shop whenever I needed to escape life.
Squeezing his shoulder as I step away, I mouth, "I know." Turning and making my way out of the Tin Cup, I head for my little red car, a present from... I shudder at the thought of what to call him. Either way, I love my car, and if I must play with the devil, I might as well enjoy the journey to hell.
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I pull up into the valet parking in front of L'obscurité, the new 5-star French restaurant that everyone in town's raving about, and stop my car. Checking myself one last time in the rearview mirror, I smile at my reflection, and apply an additional layer of my favorite rouge-colored lipstick. It's my personal choice of battle armor, and I take my time to ensure it's perfectly applied before stepping out.
Tossing my keys at a slightly flustered, baby-faced valet, I tell him to be gentle with Lola—yes, my car has a name—and make my way inside. I can feel his eyes on my ass as I walk away, causing several impatient patrons waiting in their cars to beep their horns.
Ignoring the commotion, I make sure to flaunt my assets as a lovely redhead greets me at the reception desk.
"Reservation?" The host asks, his voice professional and friendly.
"Erin Petr," I begin, but he immediately stiffens and swallows hard.
"Your table is ready for you, ma'am," he practically stutters, then signals to one of his staff to take me to the private balcony.
Thanking him, I internally growl. I know exactly who's causing their anxiety.
Following my petite brunette guide with a heart-shaped face and great curves, I smirk as we move through the modern, sleek restaurant overlooking the Lawson River. The decor is a combination of dark woods, smooth leathers, exposed brick walls, and pure white tablecloths. The building housing L'obscurité is stunning and prime real estate. I sigh, knowing this is yet another one of his little projects.
Clearing her throat, her nervousness apparent, the young girl opens the double glass doors and leads me onto a balcony. Turning towards the river view, the hostess directs me to a single table. I decide to put her out of her misery and tell her I'm good from here before making my way over to the empty seat waiting for me.
I know I'm in trouble before I even sit down on the soft chocolate leather. Then again, I'm always in trouble. I tend to displease him with my actions. But at the moment, while I'm still free, I plan to make the most of it.
"You're late," his strong voice chides as he puts down the newspaper he's reading. I notice his large, gloved hands folding the paper neatly and placing it on the table.
"I was busy," I reply, not bothering to provide any further explanation. He knows EXACTLY where I was and what I was doing. He has spies everywhere, and I can't even take a shit without one of them reporting it to gain his favor.
Raising a clean glass of whiskey to his plush lips, he swallows the amber liquid—neat, as usual—and places the now empty tumbler back down. "Princess, you try my patience."
I pout. "Someone needs to keep things interesting for you. Otherwise, what's the point of having all your little spies?" I push back. I may not have control over my future, but I can still control what I say.
He laughs, his perfectly straight white teeth flashing. Tilting his head back, his striking blue eyes sparkle in the warm sunlight. "You amuse me, мой маленький спитфайр," he replies, running a smooth leather-covered hand through his wavy dark hair. "Now, is that any way to greet your fiancé?"
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Happy Valentines Day - my readers.
As promised, I hope you enjoyed your gift. I have written several chapters, but it will take time to polish them for posting, as mentioned in my Authors notes.
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XOXOXOXO
KnightWaters