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A smile covered my face as I listened to the steady cadence of her heartbeat and watched her jolt around, making small movements in my uterus. James kissed my forehead and held my hand as I let the doctor’s words sink in.
“Alright, Ava. I want to talk to you about caring for yourself when you get home. Your body has been through significant trauma, and it will take some time to heal. During pregnancy, your body shunts a lot of blood and nutrients to your growing baby, so I want to ensure that you take it easy when you get home. I would like for you to take it slow. Do not rush back into doing everything on your own. Let your husband take care of you.”
Husband.
My face burned in embarrassment. James squeezed my hand, and I could feel his eyes on me. I couldn’t look at him for fear of becoming a mortified mess in the hospital bed.
“Make sure you drink plenty of water, and if you feel any sudden or severe cramping or bleeding, head to the emergency department immediately.” The doctor continued. “I will have the nurses give you a list of obstetrical offices in the area. I would suggest getting in for an appointment as soon as you can. They will be able to monitor the baby and you closer.” She carefully pulled out the ultrasound probe and handed me a paper towel to clean up the extra lube. I took her hand and sat on the bed, covering my legs with the sheet.
“Thank you, Doctor. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course. If you’d like, I can start the discharge paperwork and get you home.”
“I would love to go home.”
She nodded and gave me a warm smile. “Congratulations to both of you.” She handed me a strip of new photos she had taken of the baby and left the room. I let out the breath I was holding with an exaggerated huff. I was filled with a sense of purpose again. At this moment, I promised our baby that I would do everything in my power to protect them. Nothing mattered as much to me as this baby and its daddy.
FORTY
AVA
Afew hours later, I was discharged and wheeled to the car. Everything looked different on the drive home. It was almost Halloween when I was last awake, and the leaves had just turned colors. Now, snow was on the ground, and stillness had settled in the air. James and I made small talk, and he told me how he had been forced to take someadministrativetime off from the FBI after finding out that his boss set me up as bait, and he all but murdered him. He told me about the funeral Sarah’s family had for her in New York and talked about visiting her grave together and saying goodbye. He hadn’t left my side once while I was in the hospital, and my heart swelled with appreciation, but I was sad that Sarah had died. Everett had stayed behind to be there for James for a few weeks but had to return to New York for a new case.
I listened as James described the man who had tormented me. His name was Benjamin Callahan, and he was a 38-year-old morgue technician. He bounced from place to place illegally, moving from location to location like a ghost. His malignant past of foster homes and abuse followed him like a black cloud, leading up to the day he murdered a prostitute on his eighteenth birthday. After serving four years in the Army Rangers, he was discharged for psychological issues that had remained undiscovered until now. The FBI pieced together a profile of his actions when they tied him back to over twenty murders which earned him the monicker,The Skinner.
The Skinner's latest dungeon of torture: a house no more than a mile from mine, was where he'd stalked me for months, collecting pictures of me and tracking my every move like a lion stalking its prey. Investigators found evidence that he meticulously planned each abduction, stalking victims for weeks and learning their routines before pouncing without being seen or leaving any evidence behind.
The FBI’s investigation revealed Benjamin's motives as a cold-blooded hatred for women and a thirst for power and control. James guessed he was terrorizing me before he made the final move, his goal was to drive me into paranoia, and when I was teetering on the edge, he'd swoop in like a hawk to take his prey.
His words painted a petrifying image of Benjamin’s decade-long mayhem fueled by his demented fixation on me. In his desperation for any link to me, he had broken into classified databases. He even pretended to be in love with the FBI case manager assigned to my protective custody file, searching for clues that would lead him to me. He seemed to have planned every abduction meticulously - watching his victims for weeks, learning their movements and routines - until the perfect opportunity arose to kidnap them without leaving any trace behind.
The FBI's negligence and incompetence caused a wave of destruction that cost many poor, unsuspecting women their lives. My file, which contained the clues to lead Benjamin right to me, had been mishandled and recklessly leaked due to internal mismanagement. James told me there had been an investigation, but all it did was rearrange furniture.
No real change came.
And no matter what I did, the memories lingered painfully like burning ashes on my tongue.
FORTY-ONE
AVA
James pulled into my lane, and I quietly exited the car to gaze upon my house. I watched the snow falling silently in the forest, gently blanketing the trees and ground in a layer of pristine white. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the gray sky, twisting and turning as they fell to the ground. The tall evergreens stood like sentinels, their branches heavy with snow. No sounds disturbed the stillness except for the occasionalthumpas a clump of snow slid from a branch to the ground below.
I breathe in the crisp winter air and take in the freedom I feel for the first time in my life. The forest was transformed, the familiar greens and browns replaced by the monochromatic winter landscape. The trails through the trees and to my greenhouse were no longer visible, covered by a smooth carpet of snow. Animal tracks littered the ground—small indentations on the otherwise untouched surface. A light breeze shook the branches, dislodging more snow to float like feathers to the ground.
My breath left small mist clouds in the air, the only sound in the hushed silence of the land. I turn my head toward the sound of an owl hooting softly from a nearby tree and wait until it falls quiet once more. The sun is hidden behind the clouds, casting a pearly glow through the skeletal branches. This tranquil, timeless scene gives me great peace I didn’t realize I needed. The forest rested, patient and waiting for me to return as the snow descended from the quiet sky above. The destruction of my house and my land is no more. The snow covers the burnt ground, and the broken windows that night have been replaced.
James moved behind me silently, and I was startled when he wrapped his arms around me, seeking my permission through his actions. I tense at first, caught off guard by the sudden contact. I was so engrossed in the fresh air and the pure scenery around me that I didn’t even hear him move. I relaxed into his embrace, inhaling his woodsy scent. Leaning back further, I savored the warmth of his body and the feel of his chest against my body. His arms were comforting to me. From the first time he held me, I found comfort and security in his touch.
I always appreciated how thoughtful he was. He always sought my consent first and was patient as I adjusted to his closeness. His simple gestures went further than he could ever realize. He gave affection so freely, and I craved him every second of every day.
I turned my body towards him and nestled my head against his chest, wrapping my arms around him. An overwhelming wave of emotion washed over me—mostly happiness, but also deep gratitude for this man who had come into my life when I least expected it and calmed the storm raging within. He accepted me for every dark mark on my soul, loving me for it all the same. He had uncovered parts of myself that I never knew existed, and I found in him a love I never believed was real, one I memorized like the words to my favorite song. Every word. Every breath. Every kiss. Every touch. The truth was, he had touched my soul long before his hands ever knew me, and he was now a part of me that I never wished to be without again.
I let out a sigh that sounded more like a moan when his hands stroked up and down my back, stirring a familiar ache between my legs. The growl he released in response to the moan I hadn’t meant to make was intoxicating. I could feel his body responding to my touch, but like the gentleman he was, he would wait for me to give him permission. After waking up and knowing that the killer was finally dead and he couldn’t touch me anymore, I felt the weight I had carried all these years disappear. I was no longer afraid of intimacy, not with James. I felt safe with him, and he respected my boundaries. And as grateful as I was for that, right now, I could only think about how badly I wanted him to touch me, kiss me, and love me. I needed him like I needed the air in my lungs.
I pulled my head away from his chest and stared up into his deep blue eyes. I could drown in those cerulean blue irises that darkened with his lust. The way he looks at me with pure wanton need. The same way I feel towards him. I stand on my tiptoes, run my hands up his neck, and grip his hair in my fingertips. My heart races wildly, and my blood thunders in my veins. He brushes my hair back away from my face, letting his fingertips linger on my skin, then trails them down and wraps his hand around my neck.
He looks at me, hunger in his eyes, and my resolve crumbles inside me. “What do you want, baby?”
