"Oh, good, I see you've met Skullman," he sneers at me as he starts to shake with excitement, jacked up on something.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," I mutter, looking back at Conner. "You're the dumbass that calls himself Skullman?"
"And you're the fucking asshole who owes me five hundred bucks." A slow grin twists at his lips, utterly pleased by this bit of news as he spans his arms out to the side and laughs, giving me a good view of fresh track marks on his skin. "Beating you up just got a whole lot better."
Zedd snickers. "Told you you'd pay. And now Skullman is going to kick your ass for the money you owe him for the drugs you stole from me," he says to me then steps back into his room and slams the door.
Fucking crackheads.
Good God, how could I be like that for so long?
Before I can answer my own question, Conner cranes his arm back and takes a swing at me. I easily duck out of the way then skitter around him.
"Fucking coward," he growls and then runs at me.
His head collides into my chest and knocks the wind out of me, but I recover and manage to stay on my feet. Then I shove Conner back, and he slams against the wall. Jesus, I didn't think I had that much strength. Then again, the last time I got into a fight, I was as scrawny and drugged out as Zedd.
I have little time to react though, as Conner charges back at me, his fist colliding with my jaw. Pain erupts up my cheek and into my eye, causing my vision to spot. I blast through the pain and swing my fist at his face. Blood splatters from his mouth as my knuckles bash into his cheek. I step back, watching the blood dribble from his chin as he collapses to the ground.
"Now you're going to leave Avery the fuck alone," I say, looking down at Conner as he lies on his back and fights to catch his breath. "She doesn't want you anymore."
He glances up at me with blood streaming down his chin then starts to laugh. "You think this is over? This is just the beginning. That woman has made my life a living hell. I went to jail for two years because of her." He rolls over and staggers to his feet. Then, hunched over, he scuffs across the parking lot toward the side of the motel, wiping the blood from his chin.
I stride after him as I dial the police, worried he's going to go after Avery. "I need to report a fight..." I trail off as I round the corner of the building.
Because Conner comes at me with a knife, and I have zero time to react as it sinks into my side.
"You fucking asshole." I press my hand to my side, feeling the warmth of blood drip down my fingers.
The God damn motherfucker smiles.
And something snaps inside me.
I think about all the times he hurt Avery.
All the pain he caused her.
All the times he made her bleed.
How he almost killed her.
Scared her.
And how he can't seem to let her go.
To free her from his abuse.
Continuously causing her pain.
Beating her down.
Slowly killing her.
It's time for this to end.
Battling through the pain, I crane my arm back and ram my fist into his face. Caught off guard, he drops the knife and trips back. I keep going at him, throwing punch after punch until my arm and fingers ache, until the pain in my side is gone, until Conner falls onto the ground unconscious, still breathing, but beaten up pretty badly.
I think about going further yet realize that, even with all the bad stuff I've done in my past, I'm not that kind of person. So instead, I stumble over to his car and find what I'm looking for in the glove box. Then, with every ounce of strength I have left in me, I grab Conner's arms and drag him over to the car and hoist him into the driver's seat.
Staggering back to my phone, I call the police again and tell the operator the address of where they can find a major drug dealer. Then I hang up and brace my hand on the wall as I drag my feet and make my way around the motel and back to my room. I manage to bang on the door one time before I crumple to the ground, staining the cement with my blood as I stare up at the sky. I'm not afraid of dying like I was last time. No, this time feels different--I feel different.
Because this time my soul isn't dead.
It's alive.
And full.
Of love.
Chapter 40
I'm wrecked.
Avery
"I'm going to lose my shit if we don't get an update," I mutter, biting on my nails as I pace the length of the quiet waiting room. It's been hours since I pulled up to the motel and saw the ambulance driving away. Hours since I've seen Tristan. Hours since I've kissed him. And now I'm not sure I'll ever get to kiss him again. He's been back in surgery for a while, and I feel like I'm losing my mind.
"Avery, calm down." Nova rises from the chair and touches my arm, stopping me. Quinton is with us, too, but he went to get coffee, and Jax is on his way with Mason. He headed here on the bus despite my protests, more out of worry for me than anything. "Don't get too worked up until we find out what's going on."
"I can't calm down," I tell her with a sigh, flinching when I get a whiff of that stale hospital scent. "I fucking hate hospitals... too much has happened here."
"I hate them, too," she divulges, slumping down in a chair. "Ever since I lost my father."
"I'm so sorry." I sink into a chair beside her. "I didn't know he died."
"No one really knows about it, but being here... It kind of reminds me of the day my mom and I had to go to the hospital because he had a heart attack."
"I've never been in one to for anyone else." I lean back and stretch my legs out in front of me. I still have the same clothes on that I did at the beach and keep finding sand in my pockets. "But I've been admitted to them a lot."
"Do you mind if I ask for what?" She presses her lips together, waiting for my answer.
"Just stuff." Conner stuff. God, he put me in the hospital so many times. And now Tristan's in here because Conner stabbed him and Conner's in here because Tristan beat him unconscious.
This whole thing is such a mess.
I just need to know if he's okay.
Just let him be okay.
I glance over at the police officer standing guard at one of the doors near where Conner is being treated for injuries. Although one good thing came out of it. I just wish he wasn't at this hospital, but the next closest one is over an hour away, so there wasn't much of a choice.
"Quinton Carter?" a nurse asks as she exits through the swinging doors we aren't allowed to go behind yet. She's wearing bright green scrubs with kittens on them, and her hair is pulled up into a messy bun. She's young, about my age, seeming a little too young to be a nurse, but then again, I seem too young to most people to have a five-year-old son.
"Um." Nova stands up and crosses the room and I quickly follow her. "Yeah, he went to get coffee."
"Who are you?" the nurse asks, eyeing Nova over kind of rudely.
"Nova Reed," Nova replies, glancing at me helplessly. "We're his friends."
The nurse sifts through the papers on her clipboard. "Well, Quinton's the only one listed as family for Tristan Morganson, and I can't give updates to anyone other than family."
"Oh, come on, Clara." Jax suddenly appears by my side with a sleeping Mason in his arms. Both of them are still wearing their pajamas, their hair ruffled, and Jax looks as exhausted as I feel. "Can't you bend the rules for once?"
Her glossy lips twitch as if she's trying not to smile. "It's against the rules. Sorry."
"Oh, come on. Can't you at least tell us if he's okay?" He tries to dazzle her with a smile, and I almost laugh when Clara gets a bit flustered. "Cute scrubs by the way."
"Would you knock that off?" she says, nearly fanning herself. "I'm at work." She fights giving in to him--I can tell--but the longer Jax stares at her, the more she begins to cave. I practically gape at him because I've never seen this side of him. "Fine. He's stable, okay? But that's all I'm going to say."
"What d
oes that mean?" I ask. "Is he going to be okay?"
She nods. "He should make a full recovery, but I can't let you go back to see him until he wakes up." She aims a finger at Jax. "And no more updates to non-family members."
Relief washes over me so potently that I nearly collapse to the floor. Moments later, tears cascade from my eyes. I don't even know what's causing them. My guilt, partly. My worry, fuck yes. The fear of loss. The fear of losing someone important.
I can't lose him.
Never.
Ever.
Ever.
Never do I want to lose this.
These feelings.
I can't even begin to describe them, but I'm positive I've never felt anything like this before.
Overwhelmed, I reel around and run out of the hospital, dropping to my knees on the concrete pavement just outside the doors. Then I cry my heart out. For myself. For Tristan. For all the pain I've ever felt. For my past. And my future because I have one now. With each tear shed, I lose a part of myself. But it's not a bad loss. Not at all. By the time I've finished, I've made up my mind.
No more going backwards.
No more running.
No more rules.
Only moving forwards.
With him.
If he'll have me.
Drying my eyes, I walk back inside the waiting room and sit down in one of the chairs with Mason on my lap and Jax and Nova at my side. Quinton eventually returns with coffees, and we sip the caffeine while we wait.
Finally, hours later, Clara pushes through the swinging doors. She shoots Jax a dirty but flirtatious look before she addresses us. "He's awake and can have visitors," she says then she looks at me. "But he asked if he could see Avery first."
I have no clue how she knows who I am other than maybe Jax told her. I glance over at Mason playing with Legos in the corner of the room and Jax motions for me to go.
"Go see him," he says. "Everything's okay out here."
Nodding, I follow Clara across the room and back through the doors.
"He's stable," she says as she leads me down the florescent-lit hallway. "But make sure to keep it short and simple. Stress isn't good for him right now."
"I wasn't going to say anything stressful," I tell her as we stop in the doorway. "Just thank you..." I trail off as I catch sight of Tristan.
The bed he's lying in is elevated so he's sitting up and looking right at the door, right at me. His skin is pallid, he has dark circles under his eyes, and there's an IV tube connected to the back of his hand along with a heart monitor attached to his finger that keeps beeping. He smiles when he sees me. I have no clue how he looks so happy after just getting out of surgery.
But I can't help myself.
I smile back.
"Hey," I say as I tentatively enter the room and Clara leaves us alone.
His smile grows. "Hey, yourself." His happiness falters when I get closer and he studies my face. "Have you been crying?"
"Of course I have." I carefully sit down on the edge of the bed. "I thought I was never going to see you again."
His expression softens as he reaches for me. "Well, I'm okay." As his hand cups my cheek, I feel a quiver in his fingers.
"I know that now." I lean into his touch and breathe in the feel of him. "But for a while there... I thought..." I suck in a sharp breath. "But, anyway, I'm glad you're okay. Although, I'd really like to know what happened. Did he show up at your place and... attack you?"
"No. I mean he showed up to fight, but I could have just walked away. I could have went into the motel room and called the police." He smoothes the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone. "But I kept thinking about how he was never going to leave you alone unless there was a reason he couldn't get to you. I knew after he stabbed me he would go to jail as long as he didn't wake up and bail before the police showed up." He manages another exhausted smile. "And the drugs in his car were an added bonus."
"How did you know about the drugs?" I ask, and the heart monitor beeps faster.
He starts telling me a story.
That starts with the drugs he dumped down the toilet.
A fucked up story that ends with my ex-husband screwing him over and stabbing him.
"Tristan, just relax." I glance worriedly at the racing heart monitor. "There were enough drugs in Conner's car that he's going to go to jail for a very long time."
He appears confused. "But aren't you mad at me?"
"For what?"
"For getting into the drug mess."
"That wasn't your fault." I trail my fingers over the blanket covering his stomach where he got stabbed. "This is my fault."
He desperately shakes his head. "No, it's not. You can't think like that, okay? What I did was because I wanted to do it. Every step, hit, kick, punch was all made by my own choices."
"Yes, it is my fault," I whisper, avoiding eye contact, afraid of what I might see or not see in his eyes. "I was worried about this happening too. That you'd get involved with me, and my messy life would taint yours."
"My life was already a mess," he firmly tells me. "It was pointless, like I was just waiting around for something to happen, and I didn't think anything ever would... But then... Well, I met this girl who drove me fucking crazy in the best possible way."
I smile as I trace circles on the blanket. "Did you use that cheesy line on this girl?"
"No, but I used a lot of others." The humor in his voice causes me to look up, and what I see in his eyes warms me to my very soul.
"Well, here's a cheesy pick up line for you," I tell him. "I think that, despite my silly rules, you ended up wrecking me anyway, but in the best possible way."
"That was smooth." That adorable half-smile appears on his face. "I must be rubbing off on you."
"I could only be so lucky," I tease with a laugh. But his awestruck expression silences my laughter.
"You really mean that?" he utters quietly.
"You know what? I think I do." I summon a breath and then let the rest out. "And I think I might be falling in love with you."
As a massive smile turns up at his lips, the heart monitor springs to life again. "You know what? I think I might be in love with you too."
Chapter 41
The beginning of the new beginning.
One month later...
Avery
"Mason, please be careful, or you're going to hurt yourself," I say, pointing a finger at him as he runs laps around the yard of the newly built home. Finally, after two months of hard work, I get to stand in front of a fully built home, knowing I helped build the foundation for someone to maybe have a better life.
"But Tristan told me I should run around as fast as I can to get my energy out before the car ride," Mason replies as his tiny legs continue to move him around and around the length of the front lawn.
I scowl at Tristan. "Oh, you are so not going to be like Jax and encourage him to do the fun stuff while I have to be the bad guy."
Tristan pulls a whoops face from beside me. "Sorry, but he kind of needs to get it out of his system. We've got a long fucking car ride ahead of us."
It's true. Since it's Thanksgiving break, we're driving to Wyoming to visit his mom, which I'm a little nervous about; not just to meet his parents, but because I'll be so close to The Subs. On our way back home, we'll head downward to Arizona where I'm going to stop by and meet my half-sister Taylor, something I'm still a little unsure about, but Tristan assures me he'll "hold my hand the entire time."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." I sigh, giving up since a part of me wants to spoil Mason too, now that his father is going to be behind bars for a very long time, and he'll probably never see him until maybe when he's older. I hope even then he doesn't, although it'll be his choice. "I'm a little worried about leaving Jax though... he's been acting strange the last few weeks."
"Avery, he's almost nineteen years old," Tristan reminds me. "I'm sure he'll be fine."
"I know." I sigh heavy heartedly. "It's just s
omething he said to me... about our mother actually--that we should stop by the old house and check up on things."
"You think she's back home now?" he asks worriedly.
I shake my head. "No, not that I know of. And the last I heard, the house was going to get foreclosed so I'm not sure what the point of stopping by would be."
"You should be really sure before you do it."
"I'm not sure at all, but I'm going to do it for Jax. I'm just worried he thinks she'll be there and he can relax. I think he's felt guilty ever since she went missing, like somehow it's his fault. Not sure why though, since he won't talk to me about it. "
Tristan reaches over and squeezes my hand. "I'm here for you, whatever you decide to do."
"The same goes for you. You should really make sure you're okay going on this car ride with us. You still have time to back out and avoid dealing"--I point at Mason as he jumps up and down, throwing grass in the air--"with that."
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