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"Without telling me?"
"Why would I tell you?"
"Why?" Jake scoffed. "Because I deserve more respect than a fucking dog. It was part of me, too."
His words were forceful. He was pissed and Avery eagerly fed on that rage like a cat lapping up cream.
"No it wasn't."
The acid in her voice ate right through Jakes' heart. She could tell by the way he jerked back as if he'd been sucker-punched. His whole body deflated.
She felt a little guilty, but part of her was also interested. Angry Jake was a curious thing, an anomaly she was unfamiliar with. Usually, when Jakes upset met her indifference, he dropped it, or caved into her demands. But here he was, looking for a fight and that got Avery curious. Of course, she knew she should apologize, but what if she didn't?
The room became deathly quiet as Avery wondered. What would Jake do then?
Jakes' mouth opened, but no sound came out. He ran his hands up and over his stubby, velvet hair and took a deep breath. "I know that sometimes you say things you don't mean. So I need an explanation before I get righteously pissed."
Avery stood, stepping away from the side of the bed, but said nothing.
Jakes' patience withdrew, leaving only rising anger. His mouth cracked into a grimace. "Not a baby at all, or not my baby?"
"Jake." Avery walked backwards towards the dresser where Angels' purse was set. She knew Angel kept a pocket knife in there. She did not know what Jake might do next, but she wanted to find out. She wanted to be ready for anything.
"What the fuck did you mean?" Jake pressed, pointing a finger in her direction.
Avery felt the smooth handle of the pocket knife against her palm and a ripple of anxiety as she answered. "It was not your baby. Not ours."
Everything inside him seemed to break at once. "Really?" His breath hitched and back bowed, his head fell into his hands.
When he looked at Avery a moment later, the impossible happened; Jake was fuming. And it was not funny at all. He looked so disgusted, so disappointed, it made Avery's self-hatred swell. She knew that Angel would hate her for it, too. But she didn't want to back down. As a matter of fact, she shoved her chin out.
Jake lunged at her, taking her by both shoulders and shaking. "Who was it?"
Avery remained resolutely quiet.
Jake repeated his question, shaking her again as he shouted, "Who? Who?" Tightening his grasp on her arms, his face went red.
It was always very simple for Avery to shift the hate she felt for herself onto others. It was as easy as changing the direction of a loaded cannon. The fuse was always lit and all she had to do was pivot the giant weapon, shift her hateful aim.
She didn't like the way he looked and touched her. His fingers were a vice around each arm. She's was already on edge, thinking too, of the euphoric cloud that had engulfed after she let loose on Deanna.
Avery focused, going for a direct hit. Aimed and fired. "Troy Bleecher dropped me off. He was the one I called because he was the one who was involved. Not you."
Jakes' breathing was harsh. He loosed his grip on her with such force, Avery's back kissed the dresser and it shook. At that moment-the second she was sure Jake was more angry than he had ever been-was the same moment Avery realized the depth of what she was doing.
The irreparable harm she was causing Angel.
"What the fuck are you doing to me?" Jake was shaking. Stuttering, he pointed at her. "Troy Bleecher?" He came closer, pushing her against the dresser, pinching her face in his enormous hand. "You little fucking-" he stopped, his face almost purple. "I would've done anything for you. You take what's mine and give it to someone else, then act like you're so fucking proud of yourself?"
Jake's breathing slowed, his tight angry scowl loosened. He dropped his hand from her face took several steps back. "You're not gonna make me lose my shit. You're wrong and dead-fucking evil, but I shouldn't put my hands on you." Jake turned as if to walk away and then stopped, coming back to finish. "Just know: there's no coming back from this. We are over. Done."
Shit, Avery thought. She had always known things between Angel and Jake wouldn't work in the long term but she couldn't be the one to break them, at least not in such a direct way. Angel would never forgive her.
Avery took a conciliatory step forward and said his name in the same soft way that Angel always did. But Jake stepped back with both hands up as if Avery was made of some contaminating substance. The gesture was plain: he wanted nothing more to do with her.
"I'm not wasting another second with you. And just so you know, Deanna's on her way to get you."
Avery felt her jaw go slack. Jake had to be lying. Avery had hit Deanna hard. Really hard. And laid her in her room, on her bed, as if she were asleep. She'd even taken the time to place some aspirin and a glass of water on her bedside table, to make it look like she didn't feel well, hoping to buy them time to get away. She wasn't supposed to wake up.
