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Ava
I didn’t have the courage to show up at the office. After stressing about it all weekend, I decided to call in sick. One day wouldn’t make all my troubles magically disappear, but it might give me some added clarity. I just had to pretend that there was nothing wrong. It should be easy, just go into the office and do my job. I could be polite to Nate without offering him my heart. He made it clear that he wasn’t interested in seeing me romantically.
In the meantime, I had a full day to myself in my new apartment. It wasn’t exactly home, but it was mine for the time being. I examined the sofa and the television, wondering if there was a different way I could arrange them to suit me better.
A glass door led out to a balcony which allowed a lot of sunlight into the living room. The couch was turned away from the light, which I thought was poor conceptual planning. I struggled to turn the furniture, positioning it to take better advantage of the window. When I was done, I sat down to enjoy the fruits of my labor.
It was a little bit better. My heart wasn’t really in it. I was hurt and it was hard to concentrate. I knew that I had to get over him, but the love that we shared wasn’t easy to ignore. After a while, I became hungry. Since I had money in the bank, I could splurge and order delivery.
Astonished by the price tag, I nonetheless placed an order for a pizza. It wasn’t every day that I sprang for delivery service, in fact, it was only about the third time I had done so in my life. But I felt bad, and it was a way to cheer myself up. Pulling the blanket off the bed and carrying it to the couch, I curled up to watch an old movie.
About a half hour later, there was a knock at the door. I thought it was my pizza. That was fast, and I was eager to sink my teeth into it. I already made up my mind to give the driver five stars for their quick turnaround.
Opening the door, my breath caught in my throat. It wasn’t the delivery driver. The person standing in the hall didn’t have a deli bag in his hands. It was Marcus, and he had a dozen roses. I slammed the door shut, but not before he grabbed the wooden surface, pushing it back. I felt the door bounce ineffectively off his palm, but I was already running.
There was nowhere in the apartment to get away. I lived there for all of one weekend and I already knew the floor plan by heart. There was the bedroom, that was it. That was the only refuge I had, other than the balcony.
If I chose the balcony, I would find myself two stories up, with nowhere to go but down. If I chose the bedroom, Marcus would make short work of the interior door and then we would be alone with only the bed between us.
I could run into the bathroom and corner myself in the shower, but what good would that do? No matter where I went, he would find me, and it would only be a matter of minutes. I cursed myself and my fate, turning around to face what was coming.
He stepped inside, grinning like a wild man. My heart leapt into my throat. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to run, but I forced myself to hold still. There wasn’t anywhere to run. I had to confront the man and drive him out of my life. There was no one to help me and no possible way to call 911.
I glanced at my purse, all the way across the room on an end table. If I lunged for it to try to get my phone, he would see me. In a matter of seconds, he would snatch me up and pin me down, and I would be in worse shape than ever. So I froze, like a deer in the headlights, trying desperately to come up with a solution.
“You don’t walk away from me,” Marcus said, pointing a finger.
“You’re the one who kicked me out,” I replied, my eyes swinging around the room, searching for a weapon.
There was a lamp beside the couch. Or maybe I could make it to the hallway if I could coax him to the opposite side of the sofa. Thoughts were coming at me so fast, I could barely acknowledge them before another cropped up in its place. Why was he here? What did he hold against me? Why was he punishing me for his own transgression?
“I had a change of heart,” he stated. “You didn’t return my phone calls. You didn’t thank me for the flowers.”
“Thank you,” I gulped. “They’re beautiful.”
“It’s too late for that now,” he snarled, hunting me down, forcing me back into a corner.
“Marcus,” I tried, out of options.
“We could have been extraordinary together,” he said. “But now I’ll just have to settle for knowing no one else will have you.”
He raised his arm above his head, the roses still grasped in his fist. I realized that he meant to beat me, to pound the stems into my face. It was a horrible way to go. Death by roses, not a girl’s best friend. I put my hands up in self-defense, closing my eyes to the horror. There was a thud, and I thought I had been hit.
I slid my fingers over my forehead, searching for the debris or the blood that was surely evident. But there was nothing. A heartbeat later, the sound of a body collapsing close by prompted me to open my eyes. I saw Nate, standing in front of me, holding the lamp. On the floor between us, was Marcus’ body. He was unconscious and sprawled out like an exhausted child, the roses crushed underneath one shoulder.
I couldn’t breathe. The room began to sway. Every protective instinct I had told me to get away, to move past the person on the floor, to get some air. But when I put my hand out to steady myself, I felt my knees buckle.
Pitching forward, I lost all control. The world blacked out, leaving me with nothing but a ringing in my ears.
Chapter 29
Nate
I put the lamp down as Ava collapsed, rushing to her side. I stepped over the fallen attacker, catching her just before she hit her head on the windowsill. Her weight in my arms was familiar, and I was glad to hold her again, even though it wasn’t in the best of circumstances.
My mind was racing. I arrived just in time to see this creep beat his way through Ava’s door. She was backed into a corner of the living room, commanding all his attention while I snuck up behind him with the lamp.
All the boxing I had done did little to prepare me to bash someone’s head in from behind. Instead of making a scene, or announcing my presence, I thought that finishing him off as quickly as possible was the best way to go.
