Chapter Notes: Ava-Rain's POV
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- 'Let the sky fall, when it crumbles. . .' -
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Wolves and mysterious, gorgeous boys will both tear you to shreds.
I don't think I had ever blushed as much as I did in that moment. Apart from the slight smirk that I could make out from across the room, his expression was serious. His eyes had not once departed from mine and I swear that I felt the flaming hot caress of the desire I could only assume had been responsible for his darkened gaze. His arms were folded over his chest, and despite the short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing, there was no mistaking just how built this guy-Caleb-was, or how little damage that body of his would endure by my hands.
Wait, just a got-damned minute! Seriously, Ava-Rain?
I woke up ten minutes ago with a guy--a stranger--hovered over me, and instead of screaming or trying to escape, I was merely sitting there and checking him out? And not only was he just some guy, he was the guy-my mysterious, gorgeous guy from the club-who obviously in his spare time took up a career as a certified stalker.
Was there something undeniably wrong with me? Trusting some boy that I had barely met at a stupid club, a guy who just so happened to find me by means still unknown? Unless you counted his audacious explanation of 'I was drawn to you'. Why wasn't I screaming? Why wasn't I fighting to get away from him? Better yet, why was I hoping-yes, actually hoping-for him to make good on that promise he just spat out?
Because I was even more stupid than those stupid girls in those stupid movies, that's why. Stupid enough to let his words sink deep within me and secure a tight hold on my mind. Stupid enough to forget all my God-given sense, and stupid enough to look into his eyes and allow myself to be bewitched by the ridiculously beautiful grey orbs. Stupid enough to be convinced that every single word he had said was, indeed, true.
Yet, as much as I would have liked to blame my stupidity on my stupidity, I couldn't deny that I truly did feel whatever Mr. Mysterious was convinced I felt. As much as I hated to admit it, I felt drawn to him, too. When our eyes locked for the first time at the club, I had felt like a part of me was trying to fight its way out to get to him. I had never felt that way before; I did not make a sport out of rummaging through clubs for gorgeous guys, hoping that they might spark something within me that will make me want to jump their bones, or-heaven forbid-construe five seconds of eye contact as 'love at first sight'. No boy had ever come close to making me feel like ripping my soul out to use as an offering.
But Mr. Mysterious-Caleb-was clearly not just some boy. He was a man. Dominance poured out of him, confidence oozed out of every word, every look, every step, and every action. It was like the ground itself worshipped him. He was one of those guys who I'm sure knew just how ridiculously and unfairly good looking they were, yet not once had I perceived any sort of arrogance. Cockiness, yes, but arrogance, no. It was strictly confidence, and, as a result, I was sure that he was a man who always got exactly what he wanted. And I knew-no, I felt-that he wanted me.
I probably should have feared him. No, I know that I should have feared him. However, in that moment, I couldn't. I didn't. And to be completely honest, I don't think that I wanted to. The rational part of me tried to convince me that being in his home and waking up in his bed was not okay, but it worked even harder to convince me that if he wanted to hurt me then he would have.
Stupid, I know.
"Tell me the truth. All of it." I wasn't so sure if I really wanted to hear the truth, or rather, his truth. I knew that once I learned of it, it would not be something I could unlearn afterwards. But I needed to hear it, and everyone-every girl-knew that wanting something and needing something were two very different things. I needed to know why. Why did I feel. . .connected to him? Why did he look at me like. . .like he was staring straight into my core? I may not have been as experienced as some other girls, but I knew that what I felt, what I was beginning to feel, I had absolutely no control over. Whatever it was that was brewing between Caleb and I, it was something. It was true. It was real.
That, or I must have hit my head harder than I thought.
"Are you sure that's what you want? The truth? I'm willing to drop the small talk and get straight to the point, if you think you can handle it." He dropped his hands to his sides and seconds later was standing at the foot of the bed looking down at me. "You want to know how I knew exactly where to find you? Why I brought you back here? Perhaps, why I look at you so intensely? Why it's taking every ounce of strength I have to refrain from touching you?" His eyes, for the first time, departed from my own, and I probably would have felt a sense of relief over the broken eye contact had he not used them to trail over my body before retreating back to their previous spot. "From kissing you?"
Remember that last bit about never having blushed so much? Well, that moment had just been obliterated. And that spark, remember that? Well, it had just turned into a full on raging fire, burning throughout my entire body.
I dropped my gaze from his, needing to focus on something-anything-other than the beautiful specimen looking at me with nothing but lust and desire in his eyes. However, the brief departure didn't last very long because my eyes had quickly been dragged back to meet his own.
Why I want you to touch me. . .to kiss me.
I was stupid, but not stupid enough to voice my confession out loud. But I may as well have because I was positive Caleb knew exactly where my thoughts had taken me if the smirk he released was any indication. He opened his mouth to say something but the sound of a ringing phone stopped him and, thankfully, snapped me back into reality. As he walked over to the side of the bed to retrieve his phone from the bedside table, the memory of my own phone soaring through the air instantly popped into my head, and, soon, the previous night's events in all its entirety bombarded my mind. A shiver ran throughout my body as I remembered the cold glare of the wolf that attacked me and the promise of death that lingered in its amber eyes.
"Sorry, I have to take this."
I looked over at Caleb, who, of course, was already looking in my direction with concern written all over his face, in his eyes as he held the phone up to his ear.
Couldn't he at least try and look creepy? Give me at least one really good and convincing reason to actually instill within me the fact that waking up in his bed was not okay? That this was kidnapping and I was merely confusing desire for aversion?
I only managed to hear him greet somebody by the name of Kane before I remembered that it was rude to eavesdrop. And, of course, that had been the one life lesson in the list of life lessons I chose not to ignore. So I looked away and moved to the other side of the bed. When I swung my legs over the edge, I wasn't at all surprised that they didn't touch the ground-one of the many struggles that inflicted the vertically challenged. I had not even heard Caleb move, but the sound of the bedroom door opening drew my attention towards it in time to see him quietly slip out and close the door behind him.
I took that opportunity to assess just how much damage was done by the wolf. My eyes skimmed over the scratches and light bruises on my arms, then over the dried blood on my shirt and pants. I suppose I should have been thankful, especially knowing that things could have ended up a lot worse, but I couldn't bring myself to feel any sort of gratitude. I didn't feel much of anything. I didn't want to feel anything. I just wished to push the whole terrifying experience into a dark, tiny corner inside of my mind because I knew that if I thought about it, if I dwelled on the 'what ifs', then I would only start wondering why I had been spared; what had made me damn lucky? So special? And I knew all too well how dark those kind of thoughts could get, so it was best to steer clear from them.
I made an attempt to stand but was quickly reacquainted with Caleb's California King. I closed my eyes and waited for the debilitating spinning to stop before I reopened them. Again, I tried to stand, that time more slowly. With a hand on the mattress for some stability, I ventured to the end of the bed and picked up the ruined cardigan in my free hand before turning to take in the bedroom in its entirety. The walls were bare of any pictures, as was the top of his dresser across the room. It was bare, void of anything that you would typically find on top of one. Just as it was rude to eavesdrop, I knew it was rude to snoop. But I was willing to bet my bottom dollar that there wasn't anything inside of the drawers. It if wasn't for the floor length window that offered a great view of the city, the room would have been nothing special. Not while it lacked a sense of comfort or anything that would make it feel more homey.
Just as I began to take in the view of downtown Toronto, my thoughts all too quickly shifted to my grandmother. A good granddaughter probably should have called home to reassure her grandmother that she was okay. Although I would have liked to say that she probably had not noticed my absence, it was highly unlikely.
A few minutes later, Caleb walked back into the room, and before I could even ask to use his phone, he offered it to me. "I guess you should call home, let your parents know that you're okay."
"My parents are dead. I live with my grandmother." Imagine my surprise when Mr. Calm-cool-and-collected tensed up when I mentioned the death of my parents. It was such a peculiar thing to see him caught off guard, I almost thought I imagined it.
"I-I'm sorry."
"It's okay." I took his phone and called home but there was no answer. It was seven o'clock in the morning and I knew for certain that there was no other place my grandmother would be other than at home, probably stationed in front of that stupid fifty-two inch plasma. "No answer." After a two second internal debate over whether I should delete my number from his call history, I handed Caleb back his phone. "I should leave."
Yet, there was still so much I needed to know, so much I'm sure he wanted to tell me. But if I strolled in later rather than sooner, I knew it would only set my grandmother off for days. If I left now, perhaps she would surprise me by still being in bed.
Unlikely.
"I really want you to stay." He gave me that look, the one he probably used to make women fall at his feet and do whatever he said.
How the heck could I refuse that?
Simple, the good old want versus need argument.
"I need to leave, Caleb," I said firmly, hoping he didn't think that just because I wasn't screaming bloody murder at the top of my lungs that I was going to push my luck and stick around. Yet, there I stood, conflicted and unmoving, wondering if I should leave it at that or offer him some sort of explanation. And against my better yet obviously faulty judgment, I chose the latter. "My grandmother isn't exactly the easiest person to live with."
"Stay here," he replied far too quickly.
"I can't stay here. You don't even know me. I don't even know you."
"That's the least of my concerns, Ava-Rain. You staying here wouldn't be a problem." He seemed eager to plead his case and if he had, I probably would have stood there, gazing into his grey eyes like an idiot and listened intently. But he didn't say anything, he only stood there for a couple of seconds then tore his gaze away from me. "Will you at least eat something first?"
Given the whole ordeal I had gone through, I hadn't even realized that it had been almost twenty-four hours since I last ate something. But with my bloody sweater in my hands, the memories of the previous night's events, the conflicting and confusing emotions that I was feeling, food was definitely the last thing on my mind.
"I'll take you home," he said defeatedly. "I just need to change and then I'll take you home."
Despite my protests in Caleb's bedroom, in the elevator, in the lobby, and during the walk to his car, I found myself seated and buckled up in the passenger side of his car. The drive was silent, not awkwardly silent, just silent. I'm sure that I should have paid more attention to the scenery around us, took in my surroundings and remembered as much as possible, you know, being abducted and all. But instead, I spent the silence trying to recognize the scent of his cologne and trying to slow my rapid heart beat before it sent me to an early death.
Well, a successful early death.
"Thanks," I finally broke the silence and looked at him. "For. . .taking care of me, I guess."
Remind me again how you found me? Why were you in that forest and what happened to the wolf? Are you some crazy guy who uses his good looks and charm to throw of his kidnapping, stalker scent? Are you actually going to take me home or are you driving me to some sketchy place where you'll murder me and dump my body in some ditch?
He looked at me for only a second and smiled before returning his gaze to the road. "You're welcome."
Cue round two of non-awkward silence.
"Are you sure you want to go home? I can drop you off at your friend's house? The one that warned me to stay away from you."
"Kasey and her family are out of town."
I smiled, remembering the storm Kasey had unleashed upon Caleb and his friend and the warning she had so graciously bestowed upon me. Kasey had always been the more perceptive one, not that I would consider myself completely naive. She just had a strong and natural intuition that never seemed to fail her. She was never wrong. Ever. And I guess the fact that I had woken up in the bed of the very boy she commanded me to stay away from was proof enough that her intuition was, as always, dead on. But did it count as disobeying if I had absolutely no say in where my unconscious body ended up after almost being mauled to death? Well, I knew what Kasey's answer would have been, which is why I wasn't going to share any part of what happened in the past twenty-four hours with my best friend.
Forgive me, Kasey.
Thirty minutes later, Caleb pulled into the three-car driveway of my home. Although I probably should have, it was far too late to feel uncomfortable with the fact that Mr. Mysterious now knew exactly where I lived. And if I was to remain consistent with my belief in him being a partial stalker and all, I'm sure he probably already knew. Before getting out of the car, I looked at Caleb and thanked him for the ride. Without waiting for a response, I turned and grabbed the handle of the door.
"I'll walk you to your door," he insisted.
I turned my head around so fast, I was surprised I didn't give myself whiplash. "Um, no, that's okay," I objected as he turned the car off and pulled the keys out of the ignition.
"Fine. But I'm not leaving until I see that you made it into your house safely."
Was he serious? It was broad day light and my front door was no more than thirty feet away. Did he expect me to be attacked along the ten second journey?
"You don't have to, Caleb. Really."
"Piece of mind," he said with a smirk, as if his decision was non-negotiable.
I rolled my eyes as I pushed the door opened and stepped out. But before closing it, I bent down and peeped back inside. "Tell me, do all the girls fall for this whole macho, dominant alpha thing you've got going on?"
For the first time since I met him, he released an actual smile. His smirk alone was the weak-in-the-knees type of ammunition that would kill the ladies dead, so it was definitely a mystery as to how I was still able to stand when he unleashed his gorgeous smile.
Gorgeous smile? Who says that?
Stupid girls who were easily charmed by possible stalkers, that's who.
"Depends. Are you going to be the one that ruins my streak?"
I rolled my eyes again, which only caused him to laugh, and closed the door as a smile of my own escaped. I headed up the driveway and damned myself for all of eternity for actually glancing backwards at too-good-looking-for-his-own-good Caleb. I pulled my house keys out of the front pocket of the hoodie Caleb had lent me and unlocked the front door. After opening it, I heard Caleb's car start and looked back at him for a second too long before crossing the threshold and closing the door behind me. It was weird, but when Caleb was no longer in my view, I felt a strange pressure on my chest, but it was so light that I easily could have imagined it.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as an erie feeling washed over me. I felt like I was venturing into the unknown, not the place I had called home for the past fifteen years. My eyes quickly scanned over the foyer and a premature sigh of relief was released because the coast was clear. I listened for the sound of the television but was only hit with deafening silence. It was almost too silent.
I stuffed my keys inside my pockets and made a break for the stairs. I was not particularly interested in pushing my luck by loitering downstairs. Remember, that was her territory. Normally, I would have bolted up the stairs in my best Rocky impersonation, but that would have drawn too much attention. The point was to retract to my lair as silently as possible.
When I was three quarters of the way up, ready to pat myself on the back, my very brief spur of confidence was obliterated when my grandmother, who seemed to have appeared out of thin air, met me at the top of the stairs. She glanced down at me, gave me a once over, then reverted her eyes back to mine.
Was it too farfetched for me to believe that maybe she did not remember what I had been wearing yesterday?
Yeah, and how were you going to explain the cuts and bruises, and the blood stains on your pants, genius?
I'm sure I could have lied, told her that I came home extremely late and left really early or stayed over at Kasey's house, but as much as we irritated each other-as much as I got on her nerves-as imperfect and ungrateful of a granddaughter I was-I never, ever felt compelled to lie to my grandmother. I wouldn't lie to her, but I'd work extra hard to make sure the truth was avoided at all costs, especially if it was a truth that she probably didn't want to hear.
I lowered my gaze and climbed the remaining steps. I tried not to push past her, but because she was literally standing directly in my path, brushing past her was inevitable.
"And where have you been?"
Yes, I'm fine. Thanks for asking.
"I spent the night at a friend's house." I did not remember my room ever being so far.
"You know, I've tolerated a lot from you over the years, including that attitude of yours."
Oh, yes, the attitude.
"But I will not tolerate you coming and going as you please. Look at me when I'm talking to you!"
Oh, don't worry, grandma. These scratches and bruises aren't as bad as they look. I was attacked by a wolf last night, but it was gracious enough to spare my life. I can't imagine why though.
I continued onwards, reminding myself with each step not to look back. That she wasn't worth it. Once I got into my room, she would no longer exist. Just get to my safe place.
Don't look back. Just keep going. Almost there, almost there. . .
I was just about to open my bedroom door when she grabbed my arm, forcing me to look at her scowling face. My grandmother was beautiful, and even at sixty-five could still pass for a woman in her forties. Her physical beauty, I'm sure, had earned her many enemies in her lifetime. Heck, I envied her at times. But what many saw on the outside highly contrasted what was on the inside. Gladys Washington was full of anger and hate. Somewhere down the road, something broke inside of her and all of her happiness and love bled out. She was nothing but a shell, empty and void of everything that a girl who lost her parents at the age of four needed.
"If your mother could see you now," she spat. "God knows I did my best with you. Must be those Tolbert genes you've got in you! My poor Angela's probably rolling in her grave!"
I pulled my arm out of her grasp and just stared at her while shaking my head. It always came back to that. My Tolbert genes. In my grandmother's eyes, my father had never been good enough for my mother, so, by default, I was never good enough. I knew it at four years old and every day of my life since she took me in. There was not a day that went by, a look that had ever gone unnoticed nor a whisper that was too silent to hear, without the constant reminder that I, Gladys Washington's only grandchild, was not good enough.
I opened the door, entered my room and slammed it in her face. But even as I stood on the side of safety, I could not help but silently plead for what I already knew would never happen.
Please, just ask me if I'm okay. Tell me that you were worried. Tell me that, no matter how mad you are, you're glad that I'm home, that you're glad I'm safe. Show me that you care. Give me something-anything-to hold on to. . .
"Don't you walk away from me!" She yelled on the other side of my door, silencing my childish pleas, but I wasn't worried that she would enter; I couldn't even tell you the last time she had been inside of my room. "And who is that man parked outside of my house? Is he this friend you speak of? I can only imagine what kind of friend he is! And you have the nerve to bring him around here where the neighbours can see! How am I going to explain that? God knows you have no sense! No sense at all!"
I stood in the middle of my room as I listened to her rant. Normally I would have already had my iPod blasting, drowning out her yells and her very existence. My room had always been my escape and sanctuary, the only place where I did not have to pretend. But as I stood there and listened to my grandmother practically calling me a slut, I had never felt more alone, abandoned and, most of all, out of place.
I wiped away my traitor tears and headed for the door. I threw it open and got into my grandmother's face. "Tell them whatever lie you want," I told her calmly. "You're good at that, right? Tell them any lie that will make you look blameless."
Her eyes narrowed and her jaw dropped slightly. "You insolent, ungrateful girl," she seethed. "How dare you talk to me like that! I put a roof over your head, I clothed and fed you for fifteen years and you have the nerve to disrespect me in my own home? I never should have taken you in!"
"Except that might have ruined your reputation and we couldn't have that, now could we?"
"Your mother would be ashamed of you!"
I dropped my gaze for only a second or two to deal with the impact of her words, which had hurt more than if she had actually struck me. I shook my head before lifting my eyes to meet hers once more. "No more or less ashamed than she would be of you."
An eye for an eye. . .
My parents had always been my weakness and my grandmother knew that, which is why she had said what she said. But my mother had also been my grandmother's weakness. I knew before the words had escaped my mouth that they would hurt her, and yet I had released them anyway. Not out of spite or pain, or even out of need because I was not that type of person. But something had come over me, a darkness that offered me comfort and promised control. I said it because I could, as if the words were a weapon of immense power, and I had been chosen to wield it.
"Get out," she said far too calmly then I thought possible. But that calmness didn't last very long because I could see her losing control, the anger and resentment burning in her eyes. "Get out of my house!"
"Gladly." I stormed past her and ran down the stairs, blinded by my own stupid tears. It was only when I reached the front door and my hand was on the knob that I took a deep breath and shook the tears away, remembering that appearances were always everything. When I deemed myself composed enough, I threw the door open and walked straight into a hard body.
Before I could even confirm to whom the body I crashed into belonged to, I already knew that it was Caleb's. I didn't care that he was still there. I didn't care that he was a stranger or a possible kidnapping stalker. I didn't care that I didn't know him, or how stupid and ridiculous it was of me to trust him, to want and need him. I didn't care if I would end up regretting my choices and my actions nor did I care if I was being careless and naive. I didn't care that I was not suppose to talk to or get in cars with strangers. I didn't care if I was being stupid and reckless. I didn't care if both wolves and mysterious, gorgeous boys would tear me to shreds. But most of all, I certainly did not care if I was breaking every got-damned life rule and lesson ever instilled in me because quite frankly, they could all go to hell.
He extended his hands to steady me but I pushed my way into his hard chest and accepted his embrace that followed. His arms slid around me, as if to assure me that it was okay and completely fine to sob in his chest. "Are you hurt?" His voice was stern yet held a trace of concern.
I shook my head and mumbled a 'no'. Whether it was coherent or not, I didn't care about that either. My only concern was getting as far away from that place and that woman as possible. And if that meant giving into Caleb, so be it. I pulled away from his chest, not quite ready or willing to look up to meet his gaze. I was a mess and didn't want to see just how much of a mess I was being reflected back at me if I were to look into his eyes. "Can you please just take me away from here?"
"Yes. Come on." He grabbed my hand and led me to his car. He opened the passenger side, had even buckled me into my seat before getting in and driving off.
Don't look back. Just keep going. Almost there, almost there. . .