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I startled awake, drenched in sweat, and my hands shook as I fumbled to turn my light on. My heart raced, pounding against my chest as I struggled to catch my breath. The remnants of a nightmare clung to my thoughts, leaving me disoriented.
Fuck.
I put my head on my pillow and scream until the anguish subsides.
I glance over at my clock.
5:00 a.m.
I get up, go into my bathroom, and turn on the shower. I can feel the throbbing in my temples, partly because I was hungover and partly because of the shitty sleep I had.
I need to wash the nightmares off before I head to work. It was Saturday, one of my busiest days of the week for the shop. Staying busy was always a go-to for my mental health process.
TEN
JAMES
This never happens to me. I sleep great most nights, but not last night.
For some reason, this case had sunk its claws into me. The gray eyes of the beautiful brunette next door haunted me in my dreams.
After Ava had retired upstairs, I helped my team set up the brain in the office space on the first floor.
The brain is the central hub where our equipment communicates with a centralized computer station. It allows me to see all the cameras on the property and the status of the motion sensors we placed.
It was after midnight when I found a room to settle into.
It was the guest room closest to Ava’s room.
I could have picked a different room, but I wanted to be near her for reasons I can’t quite explain.
Either way, it felt right.
Everett and Sarah chose rooms past mine.
As I rolled out of bed, I yawned, running my fingers through my hair. The room has a cozy and charming atmosphere, adorned with warm, earthy tones and rustic-themed décor. The wall behind the wrought-iron bed I lay on is covered in shiplap wooden paneling that is distressed white. The morning sun shines through the sheer curtains covering the window. A comfortable rattan armchair adorned with plush cushions in calming hues provides the perfect spot to bask in the warm sunlight. A small side table, crafted from reclaimed wood, holds a delicate vase filled with freshly picked flowers The lush greenery of the forest peeks through the sheer linen drapes, with the sunlight shining through the delicate fabric.
I stare up at the ceiling, watch the blades of the ceiling fan spin, and think about her story. Her file left out the intimate details that she shared—deeply personal details that left my head reeling.
Rarely did someone live to talk about the horrors they faced.
Ava did.
Like many, I saw the tension in her shoulders and knew she still carried the burden of what happened to her for all these years.
I could hear the pain in her voice as she relived the horrific details she had survived.I didn’t realize the extent of the torture he subjected her to.The report mentioned sodomy but was vague on the specifics or the physical damage.The description didn’t hold a candle to hearing it come out of her mouth. When I think about this happening to my sister, my blood boils.
My sister,Amelia, and I basically raised ourselves. Our dad bolted when I was seven, and our mother started drinking when he left, and she never actually stopped.Last I heard, she had been picked up on a disorderly conduct charge in Manhattan and was spending some time in prison for multiple offenses. Growing up in such a chaotic environment, Amelia and I had to rely on each other for support and guidance. Despite the hardships we grew up with, we managed to create a strong bond that has only grown stronger over the years. However, the news of our mother's recent arrest added another layer of frustration and disappointment to our already complicated relationship. It's disheartening to witness her constant struggles with addiction and the consequences it brings to both of our lives. She would call from prison once or twice a month, asking for money for her commissary, but in the last few weeks, I had been ignoring her phone calls. There was too much at stake with this case. It was under immense scrutiny, and I couldn’t afford to be distracted by my family drama.
Amelia was two years younger than me, and I cared for her when my mother couldn’t, which was most of her life. I made sure she got to school on time, took her to her ballet lessons, and made sure she had a full stomach every day. I was just a kid raising a kid and had no idea what I was doing.
When I joined the Navy and became a Navy Seal, I sent checks home to my sister and paid her tuition so she could get an arts degree.
It paid off, though.
When Amelia graduated, she opened up her own ballet studio and was doing well for herself, and she really didn’t need me as much anymore.
But I would always protect her.
