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“Thank you,” I murmur, as she writes something down on the clipboard and heads back toward the door.
“Of course if you need anything before I return, then hit the call light button attached to your bed. I’ll be back in a little bit with something to eat.” She gives both of us a heartfelt smile before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind her.
As soon as she’s gone, I turn to Ava. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and I groan, my cock hardening at the image. Reaching for her, I tug her into my chest, and practically onto the bed.
“I might have been out of it, but I heard you say it.”
“Say what?” she asks coyly.
“Don’t play dumb. I know you love me. I heard you say it. You can’t deny it.”
“You didn’t hear anything, it must have been your imagination.”
Liar.
“I love you, Ava. I’m sorry for hurting you, for everything that happened, for our lives being as fucked up as they are. I’m sorry. You deserve better than me, one hundred percent, but if you’ll have me. I’ll spend every day making it up to you.”
“We don’t have to talk about this right now,” Ava mumbles, and I grab her by the chin forcing her to look at me.
Bright green eyes pierce mine.
“Yes, we do. I could’ve died.” You could have died. I can’t even say those words out loud. “We’ve already wasted so much time. I don’t want to waste another minute. I want to spend every minute of every day going forward with you. I want to hold you in my arms when I fall asleep and wake you up with my tongue and fingers every morning.”
“What kind of drugs did they give you?” she asks, her eyes lighting up with amusement.
“They didn’t have to give me anything. I’m already on the best kind… the kind that makes your heart beat real fast and butterflies flutter in your stomach.”
“I don’t think that’s a drug.”
“You’re right.” I lean into her face, so close I can press my lips to hers. “It’s not a drug, it’s called love, and it’s far more powerful than any drug I’ve ever heard of.”
“Is that right?” she whispers breathlessly.
“Yes, fuck yes…” I growl before pressing my lips to hers.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ava
Henry and my mother make an appearance just as the doctors are discharging Vance. We decide to discuss what happened when we get home so as not to make a scene in the hospital. Vance, for the most part, remains quiet, his hand in mine gathering a few stares, those including our parents. They help me get him into the car, and I slide in next to him.
I try not to think about the conversation we are about to have, I don’t want to hear them tell me what’s going to happen to my dad. I know what he did was wrong, so wrong, and I realize how serious this is. Breaking and entering, threatening with a deadly weapon, shooting Vance…the crimes are stacking up. He’s going to end up going to prison for a long time and I know he isn’t innocent, but he’s still my dad and deep down, I know he wouldn’t have ever intentionally hurt Vance.
Chewing on my fingernails absentmindedly I let my gaze fall on the houses and trees that whoosh by in a blur. My mind is so wound up, that I flinch when Vance gently takes my wrist and pulls my hand away from my mouth, interlacing our fingers. I stare down to where our hands are joined. Never did I think we would be together, and now, now it’s surreal. The thought of losing him, for a short while there, I was consumed with fear. I didn’t know if he was going to be okay, there was too much blood, and it was…
“Calm down,” Vance leans in and whispers, his breath fanning against the shell of my ear. Goosebumps blanket my skin and I feel myself leaning into his touch.
“I thought I lost you.” The words expel from my lips easily.
“Shhh, you didn’t. I’ll never leave you,” Vance says as we pull into the driveway. Henry parks as close to the front door as he can. Together we half carry him up the front steps and into the house. By the time we make it up the stairs and into his bedroom, he’s cursed twenty thousand times and I’m breathing like I jogged up the Empire State Building.
Once we get him settled in bed, propping him up with five pillows, our parents start the dreaded talk.
“We didn’t want to talk about this back at the hospital because we weren’t sure how it would turn out, but we decided to press charges against Greg,” my mother says nervously. Vance remains quiet, blinking up at her. It’s hard to read him, and not even I know how this is going to pan out. “We asked the judge that they not put him in jail, but instead make him go to a mandatory rehab facility where he can get the help he needs.”
