“You really seem to have a thing for that particular toy. Do I need to put it in your will that you’d like to be buried with it? Or… do you keep bringing it up because you’d secretly like to try it out yourself?” I tilt a brow up suggestively at him before losing my composure because both of those images were just too much.
Mark guffaws and splashes me playfully with the water.
“You’re spicy this afternoon. I like it.”
“You didn’t answer the questions…” I purse my lips in amusement, and his eyes flare with heat.
“I’m going to make you beg for your orgasms tonight.”
“I don’t see how that’s a punishment. I like the build up, and I don’t mind begging.”
Mark shakes his head as he laughs, because there’s just no winning.
“All that aside, did you knock my underwear drawer loose and throw everything back inside this morning? Thanks for grabbing the mail too, by the way.”
He looks at me confused.
“What are you talking about? I didn’t touch your underwear drawer, babe. And what about the mail? ”
“Very funny. You put the mail on the counter. I’m saying thank you. And I bet you did put my toy in my purse after you lined them all up on top of my panties.”
“What–, lined up?” Mark asks, standing with a funny look and walking out of the bathroom.”
I furrow my brow, confused as to why he won’t just fess up to his practical joke. I hear him curse as he opens and shuts my dresser drawers.
He walks back into the bathroom with a weird expression on his face, almost panicked.
“Cute smiley face by the way. That made my day.” I nod to the mirror. He looks over at it, and his panicked look turns intohorror. My gut sinks with the realization that he didn’t draw it. He didn’t do any of the things.
“Ava, babe, get out of the tub.” He grabs a towel and holds it out as I stand to take it, but he wraps it around me instead. “Dry off. I’m going to take a quick look around. He looks around the bathroom real quick. I have no idea what he’s looking for. Then he walks out the bathroom door and shuts it behind him. I hear him opening closet doors and moving from room to room of the house.
I finish drying and pull on my satin robe before leaving the bedroom. When I walk down the hallway, I see him standing with his hands on his hips in the kitchen. I freeze when I see the handful of purple petunias laying on the island counter by the mail. That wasn’t there when I got home.
“You didn’t pick my petunias did you?”
“No,” he blows out, following my gaze.
“I heard a door open and close when I was in the bathtub,” I deadpan and he turns white. “It was literally minutes before you walked in. I thought you forgot something in your truck.”
He walks to the front door and looks at the lock, opening it and inspecting it before closing the door, then walks to the back door to do the same. It pulls open without him having to turn the lock. His head snaps up to look at me, and I shake it in response that I did not leave it unlocked. His mouth forms a grim line, and he steps outside to check for the spare key. He grabs it before coming back in and locking the door.
“He came in through the back while you were in the bathtub. He must’ve heard my truck pull in and took off without time to relock the back door. Fuck, Ava, if I wouldn’t have taken off early–”
“He was waiting for me after work today…” I spit out.
“You should’ve started with that earlier. What the hell?”
“I told him off. He wasn’t happy. He…grabbed my wrist.” I hold up my hand, and sure enough, you can see the outline of fingerprints where he squeezed really hard. Mark crosses the kitchen faster than I imagined was possible and holds my wrist up for inspection. Rage flashes across his face. He bends his head to kiss my wrist, and a bit of me breaks inside at the tenderness of the action.
“We’re changing the locks tomorrow, and if that fucker comes near you again, cops will be involved if the guys and I don’t find him first. We have no proof right now, so nothing would come of it. We’re getting a couple of cameras, and I’m moving in. No arguments. If you don’t want to stay here, that’s fine. If that’s the case, then you’re moving in with me.”
I just nod in agreement.
29
Mark
Red. That’s all I see as I inspect the fingerprint sized bruises around Ava’s wrist. I want to find him, beat the shit out of the motherfucker, then kill him. It wouldn’t make me feel any better though. Not to mention, orange really isn’t my color. Would I do it if he gave me no choice though and Ava’s life was in danger? I wouldn’t hesitate one mother-fucking second to end him. He’s now stooped to breaking and entering, stalking, and the fuckwad put his hands on her. I wouldn’t put much else past him. He’s walking a fine line.
