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“I—” I don’t have the capacity right now to stroke his ego. Answer his questions. And I know the last thing I should do is piss off her brother.Too late, Ward.But before I do any further damage...“It was nice chatting.”Lie.“I’ll have Ava call you when she wakes up.” I hang up and clench Ava’s phone in my fist, gritting my teeth. The need to go on a rampage until I find out who did this to her is fierce.
I get up, needing to move, going to the kitchen, shaking away the visions of a bottle. Clear liquid. The relief after just one swig. I swallow and get a glass, my hand shaking as I fill it with water and guzzle it. My eyes fall to the post Ava gave me. Distraction. I swipe it up and tear the envelope open, scanning the text.
No.
My breath comes in short, sharp bursts, my mouth watering as I read at the invitation to my sister’s wedding. The RSVP details, the date to reply by, which has passed, the address to reply to. “Fuck.” I move across the kitchen fast and toss it in the bin, scrubbing down my cheeks. Run. Work out. I need to do something because I’m spiraling, and it’s beginning to panic me. But I can’t leave her.
Returning to my chair in the lounge, I lower and pick up my phone, spinning it in my hand. I drop my head back, staring at the ceiling, making sure I don’t close my eyes, scared of what I might see if I do.
Jake. Rosie. Carmichael.
Vodka.
I shift, uncomfortable. My mobile ringing is a godsend. I answer to John, smiling at the irony of his timing. He knows. He just knows. I look down my bare chest, chewing my lip, the finger of my free hand gripping the arm of the chair. Holding on. Or holding myself back.
“How is she?” he asks, his voice deep and grave.
“Sleeping.”
“And you?”
Unhinged. Struggling to see reason. Violent. Fucking terrified. I laugh under my breath. It’s all the answer he needs. “Jay’s getting me the camera footage from the bar.”
He hums, thoughtful. “I’ll ask around too. Any ideas?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, blinking, my eyes dry and scratchy from being forced to remain open. “I swear to God, I’ll claw their fucking eyes out.”
“You need to keep it together. Donotturn to the drink, Jesse.”
“I’m close, John,” I admit, needing him to know my state of mind. “I really need it. Fuck, it’s a mess.” I suddenly feel Ava’s presence and look up to see her sitting at the top of the stairs in her underwear, looking small and timid. To think she might have been preyed upon. Hurt. Taken away from me. “See what you can find out, John,” I say quietly, watching her. “I won’t be in for a few days.”
“Call me if you need anything.”
Talking down from the edge? “Yeah, thanks, big man.”
John cuts the call and I remain in the chair, searching for the energy to stand and the words to say. How the fuck do I approach this without it blowing up in my face?
She looks at me, looks away, looks at me again, as if checking I’m still watching her. She’s getting more fidgety. More worked up. I don’t like the thick atmosphere. I need to fix it. Don’t know if I can.
It takes both hands wedged into the arms of the chair to push me up, and I go to her. She follows me all the way to the top of the stairs. I can see it in her eyes. Rebelliousness being located. Fight rising. She knows I have every reason to be fucking mad, and now she’s mad with herself for proving my worries are justified.
“If you are going to shout at me, I’ll go now,” she says, confident but not. She doesn’t want to leave. But she’s threatening it anyway. Pulling her ace card. But I keep my cool. Keep my head.
“I’ve shouted enough.” I look her over again, from top to toe. “How do you feel?”
“Fine,” she bites back, astounding me. She’s waiting for my fury? For me to yell and demand compliance? I haven’t the energy. She’s here. She’s okay.
“...Ish?”
“No. Fine.”
In body, maybe. In spirit? She’s channeling her anger in the wrong direction. I lower, getting closer to her, crowding her. My hands rest on the step on either side of her. She peeks up at me.
“I’m crazy mad, Ava.” I don’t sound it. But, God, I feel it.
“I wasn’t drunk.”
“I told you not to drink at all,” I counter. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go out.”
