Make Me Stay II: A Second Chance Romance

by Avant, Amarie

  “I can’t,” Hunter shrieked. “Hawk, I have to go back. I have to save Avery. She’s thinking about doing something so stupid. She’s thinking about—”

  “What is she thinking about, Hunter? Damn!” Hawk snapped.

  “Hearing!”

  They stared at each other for a few beats. Hawk’s eyebrows raised in curiosity. He tilted his face toward the ceiling, which was extra close in his tiny rental. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he huffed. A low mutter of something intelligible escaped his tensed lips.

  Hawk gripped the door handle and got out. Hunter did as well. While Hawk started off at a brisk pace toward the sidewalk, he saw the flash of psycho in his little brother’s eyes. Before Hunter could make a run for it, Hawk grabbed him around his waist and pulled him toward his chest.

  “Please calm down, Mr. McIntosh.” A feminine voice called from behind Hunter.

  “Thank you for coming out. I told you my brother wouldn’t come. Did you see what he just did to his hand?” Hawk gasped, pretending to be in shock at Hunter’s antics while squeezing the life out of him. “He’s bleeding all over the sidewalk.”

  Hunter hadn’t even noticed the warm, thick blood trickling from his knuckles. “He made me do it!”

  Just as the screech echoed into the sunny blue day, Hunter felt a prick on the side of his neck and just like before, the world crashed around him, leaving only darkness.

  35

  Avery

  Donning a pair of tan linen shorts, a pale purple blouse, and wedges, Avery sauntered down the stairs and toward the desk in the lobby. She paused for a moment. Frizzy blond hair was all Avery could see as Carly sat at the desk in the lobby with her head in her hands.

  “Well good morning to you too.” Avery stifled a yawn. “I need coffee. And preferably something for this sweet tooth.”

  Placing her chin on her hands, Carly made it a tad awkward for Avery to read her lips.

  “I didn’t bake any pastries today, AC, sorry. And I let you guys down yesterday too. I’m so sorry . . .”

  “We all survived, Carly, no worries. Seems like you should’ve called in today,” Avery mumbled, not that she was mad at Carly, but mostly because she wasn’t prepared to speak with Verdrena yet. Having to oversee the goings-on at Baudelaire made a good enough excuse for not talking to her mother, so far. She was looking for a reason not to go, but Carly didn’t glance up to see the pleading in Avery’s eyes. What if I say something totally out of line? The silent treatment is easier. “That woman” is my mother after all.

  Carly leaned back in her seat, head falling back to give a hard huff.

  “What’s eating you, girl?”

  For a few moments, Carly growled, pushing her hand through her curls, and then she sat forward. In an exasperated voice, she exclaimed, “Hunter’s gone. He left yesterday and didn’t say goodbye. Avery, he friggen ghosted me!”

  Eyebrows rising, Avery cautioned herself from mentioning that Mr. Flint’s departure might be for the best. Their last encounter sprang to her mind. How he’d just ping-ponged out of his seat. It still didn’t sit right with Avery, even after she’d stopped herself from calling him out on it. She really felt sorry for him. After all these years, it was evident Hayden Flint still mourned the death of his sister, Hero.

  Avery sat at the edge of the silk embroidered settee, which her mother had bought when Avery saw it in an antique store. The darn thing cost an arm, a leg, and a foot! It reminded her of one of the many pieces of furniture that Franny had broken-heartedly spoken of having to sell for the sake of survival. It was the perfect focal point for the lobby, though not comfortable. Stopping herself from telling Carly she was indeed better off without the guy, Avery clutched at the edge of the settee and asked, “You checked his room?”

  “Yeah. Meticulously clean. Not a speck of dust, which let me know you hadn’t cleaned yesterday. AC, you can add maid to your resume, but you’re not that damn good.”

  “Hey, I’ll have you know that the maids at my parents’ house still love me more than the man who writes their paychecks.” Avery tried to be funny, but while she offered a silly grin for Carly’s sake, her friend didn’t respond in kind. “Albeit, I didn’t check his room yesterday afternoon, since the guest who planned on checking in yesterday afternoon had their flight delayed until today. But I’m not that bad of a maid. But how do you know that, Carly?”

  “Don’t take offense. I had to check his room, girl, see if he was still here. Hunter cleaned like that one dude from JROTC back in the day. I was . . .” Carly’s voice broke. Avery was attuned to her every word. “Sounds stupid, but I really, really liked him.”

  Damn. Avery racked her brain for an appropriate response. With a guy as her best friend while growing up, who just so happened to be her boyfriend, man bashing didn’t come easy. “Want eggs?”

  Tears sparkled in Carly’s eyes. Her shoulder’s shook as she laugh-cried. “I’m not really ready to talk about it. And that’s a hard no for the food. You have to learn to cook more than eggs for breakfast.”

  Relieved for the change of subject, Avery grabbed onto the conversation shift and rolled with it. She chuckled. “Hey, I’m a meat and potatoes and every dessert imaginable type of gal.” She patted her breasts. “I have to keep these bad boys equipped for honey bun.”

  With another sniffled chuckle, Carly said, “Okay, thanks for forcing me to laugh when I’d rather wallow in sadness.”

  “See, that’s exactly what I refuse to tolerate. Carly, you are better than allowing the sadness of losing him control you.” Avery smiled, softly. “Well, what did you guys even do two days ago when you disappeared during your shift? Nevermind. When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m all ears.” Avery laughed.

  “Wow, keep the cheesy jokes coming. Now I can say Hu . . . Hunter without balling my eyes out.”

  “Hunter?” Donavan stood at the bottom of the steps. He held Anya in the football position. She lifted her head, bright honey eyes sparkling as she glanced around. “The dude you were with the other night’s name is Hunter?”

  “Dude, I just told Avery that I’m not ready to talk about it.” Carly sighed. “But since you seem so interested in my love life, or lack thereof, his name is actually Hayden Flint. Hunter’s his nickname. We talked and danced and . . .”

  “Danced?” he asked. His flicker of interest was dwindling by the second.

  “Wow, you’re actually not acting like the Donavan I know. The one who wants vitals on any guy I look at.”

  “Yeah, what’s gotten into you, Mr. Over Protective Brother? You halfway bashed in the skull of the last idiot to break Carly’s heart.” Avery winked. She thought he was grumbling something about “as long as the guy has legs” under his breath. But with Carly in such bad spirits, Avery didn’t catch nor inquire as to what her fiancé actually said.

  “He ghosted me, bro,” Carly groaned. She sucked in a harsh breath. “Today is the first day of April!”

  When Donavan glared at her as implication that this particular day didn’t matter, she grumbled, “So you don’t think this is some sort of April Fool’s stunt?” She bit her lip pensively.

  Donavan placed his hands over Anya’s ears before cussing. “I don’t give a fuck if the guy is playing games with you, Carly. Hopefully, you listened to big bro and didn’t do any dirty dancing before you found out he was an idiot. I’ve told you before, it’s what all men want and most haven’t worked for it.”

  “Okay, Donnie, you don’t have to start with the I-told-you-so spiel either.” Avery shook her head.

  “Trust me, the reminder is a little too late, okay, Man Mom.” Carly smirked, but Donavan had already started to head down the massive hallway, holding up their daughter to continue their own personal conversation.

  Carly turned to Avery. “How are the two of you?”

  “Me and man mom?” Avery couldn’t help but use her line while cocking an eyebrow.

  Carly nodded. “I detected some tension—not just revol
ving around Old Lady Jess—though, I swear every time she opens her mouth to speak, I imagine Jess is about to request someone to take a switch off a tree out yonder, so she can get to whooping folks. Reminds me of one of my old foster moms. One of the only ones who fed me the same food as herself, and yet I was an asshole, so I couldn’t get out of her placement fast enough.”

  “Damn, I don’t think she’s that old school. Nevertheless, Donavan and I are doing well. We’re catching our stride when it comes to managing business, baby, and love.” Avery stood up, removing her keys from her banana-colored leather purse. “I better get going before my breast pads leak through.”

  “Okay,” Carly mumbled. Her tone was laced with curiosity.

  “Pray for me. I’m going to visit with my mom, luckily, Donnie will be here all day.” Avery paused, biting her lip. “So, take it easy.”

  “Wow, your mom.” Carly frowned, holding up an index finger, gesturing that she needed another moment of contemplation. “Alright, if you forgive her, I’ll have to as well.”

  “Thanks, friend.” That’s how I hope this meeting will transpire.

  * * *

  They were to meet on neutral territory over lunch. Avery decided that if she didn’t have anything nice to say to Verdrena, stuffing her face made for a good alternative to disrespecting the woman who birthed her. The maître d' escorted Avery through the restaurant, past a violinist and toward a wall of French doors. With it being a bright sunny day, Avery was glad that Verdrena had arrived first and chose to have their luncheon on the portico, which was built in the center of the restaurant.

  The area radiated exclusivity as they headed outside and past familiar, political faces. Almost in the center, Avery noticed her mother, sitting at a table for two, glancing around as if uncertain she’d been stood up. Her dark skin popped against the fuchsia pantsuit tailored to her slender frame. Verdrena was the epitome of any middle-aged woman who you couldn’t quite tell was actually a woman of a certain age. She sat with her legs crossed.

  The glass of wine that she drank without smudging her makeup was hardly against her lips before she stood, eyes on her daughter. In a graceful move, she swept in, moving to embrace her daughter. Avery stepped a few paces back. Verdrena’s face was alight with pain.

  Avery murmured, “I’m not ready for a hug yet.”

  Verdrena nodded, reclaiming her calm façade and her seat. “You look beautiful. No, sophisticated. This aura suits you well.”

  Mumbling her thanks, Avery sat down across from her mother. She gestured toward the waiter. “I’m sure my mother warned you not to place carbohydrates before her. She excels at threats, but I beg of you, bring bread, a slice, a crumb, that’s the only way I’ll survive.”

  The server’s eyes lit up. “Of course, miss. And may I interest you in our signature cocktail of the day?”

  “I wish! Sparkling water is fine. Thank you.”

  When their eyes connected, Verdrena’s were glossy, filled to the brim with apologies. “Avery, thank you so much for meeting with me. You don’t know how much regret—”

  “What? Time? Stolen memories!” Avery paused, waiting for her mom to step in at any second. When her mother’s lips didn’t move, she dug in. “I reached out to Doctor Blaine, I mean, Mary because I needed some motherly advice.”

  Verdrena’s thick lips moved slowly, precise in their annunciation. “Avery, you can tell me anything.”

  “Great. Let’s start with the aftermath. Instead of just a lovely reunion with my child, I’m instead bickering with a lady stubborn as a mule—picture Jess as ornery as I am. She has a legal right to Junior, and I can’t be like you and Dad, take someone to court, because I won’t break my child’s heart. I want him happy, Mom.”

  “I understand—”

  Avery’s eyes strained. Her glower moved away from Verdrena’s lips to her eyes, just to look her dead on. “Mom, I don’t need empathy if you haven’t been in my shoes. I went into the relationship with the Carlsons humble and thankful. I understand Ted. But Jess is . . .” Feeling other sets of eyes on her, Avery lowered her voice. Where was the damn bread when she needed it? “We both love Junior. We both see how perfect, how beautiful he is, Mom. I just want her to step back, play the cool aunt, the funny aunt, stuck up aunt, any sort of auntie that you go to when your older and need dating advice.” Burrowing her face in her hands, Avery murmured, “But I’m his mom, and she is too.”

  The bright sun seemed to shift. Avery glanced up to see a spritzy, clear drink being placed before her. She downed it. Then grumbled, momentarily having forgotten that she chose sparkling water.

  “The fresh artesian bread will be out in just a second.”

  Pulling the edges of her lips up in appreciation took almost all of Avery’s energy. She turned back to her mother, who stared intently at her.

  Hesitantly, Verdrena spoke. “I’m sorry.”

  In a calmer tone, Avery continued. “I’m being selfish because I’ve missed so many years with him, and it’s like he’s not totally and utterly mine. But on the other hand, the thought seizes me as to how blessed I am. How grateful I am that you vetted parents who wouldn’t get rid of him like Donavan’s parents did to him. Just think, there are so many people in this world willing to give up on their children.” The anger continued to rise in waves, but Avery kept a more practical tone for their surrounding’s sake. “I didn’t grow up sheltered to the fact, Mom. I learned the term sex trafficking in a real-life scenario starring Carly. So I applaud you for your endeavors. You picked folks that would not harm my child, wouldn’t do disgusting vile things. And maybe I don’t even have the right to complain.”

  Avery paused to rake a hand through her hair. “I doubt that I could give up my son to anyone better. Jess has it in her mind that I am that type of person. The kind that just leave. Somehow, I believe she thinks I was in cahoots with you when it came to Donavan Junior. Now, let me go back to something I’ve been fixating on for ages. Donnie hates when I play the “what if game.” But what if they decided to let DJ go into foster care? I just painted a sordid picture during my monologue already, right? So, what if, Junior had ended up with the type of people who—”

  The trepidation in Verdrena’s tensed lips faded. She spoke up. “That wasn’t an acceptable part of the contract, Avery. I assure you.”

  Avery tsked. “Yeah, because my son was a contract.”

  Verdrena took a sip of her wine. She clutched at her chest for a moment before deciding to speak again. “I will wait for you to forgive me, Avery. But right now, honey, you, you’re being unreasonable! I was always there—”

  Avery’s gaze tore away from her, and just like that, she didn’t have to gather another word from her mother. She thanked the waiter when he arrived and grabbed a piece of hot, fresh sour dough bread, then a slice of the pumpernickel because it was just that type of day. A day where one could fill their stomach up with delectable bread and still not be content. She went about the process of slathering an obscene amount of butter on each piece. She stuffed them into her mouth.

  Her mom reached over, attempting to gather her attention. “Can you at least allow me to say my piece?”

  Washing down a mouthful of carbohydrates, Avery spoke. “I don’t want excuses. And when you say something wasn’t a part of the contract or that you know how I feel, when quite frankly I don’t recall you ever having been in my position, it angers me. And we both know I dealt with depression as a kid. So, the only conclusion I can come up with is that you wanted to keep Junior safe from me.”

  “That’s not it.”

  Avery chewed on her lip for a moment. She sucked in a breath of air. “However, I will live with one apology. One sincere—if you can muster it—apology, and I’ll forgive you because we’re human, Mom, and I love you. I just had to say my piece.”

  Tears slithered down Verdrena’s flawless, perfect cheekbones. “I love you, baby. I have the magazine you were featured on in a frame. I’ve read every page of your bed a
nd breakfast blog. My heart hurts so bad not being able to talk to you.”

  “Okay, okay,” Avery huffed. She closed her eyes for a moment, not prepared to hear the rest of Verdrena’s words. The thought of forgiving weighed heavily in her bones.

  The second Avery opened her eyes, staring at Verdrena, her mother launched into another quest at absolution. “I apologize to you, to Donavan, and to Junior from the bottom of my heart for stealing years that you missed. Every day, I regret the holidays and all the milestones Junior completed that you didn’t see firsthand. And every single moment of my life, I will regret not visiting you at Sunnymead. I just knew you’d see through my attempts at helping you have a better life.”

  “There’s no such thing as a perfect life, Mom. There’ll be trials and tribulations. My great grand mommy Franny, taught me that.”

  “Oh, Grand mommy. I’ve got some regrets around leaving Baudelaire the morning of my eighteenth birthday. Nevertheless, I was just like my mama, too hot to trot . . .” Verdrena’s lips trembled as she attempted to smile. Her hands clutched Avery’s, giving them a tiny squeeze. “You’re so family oriented, Avery. We can talk about Franny if you’d like. I’ve shut you down or was short with you in the past when you talked about her. But this is about you. I also should note that I’m deeply sorry for placing you in the position to have to work with Ted and Jess. Now that I’m aware of how they’re acting, I will speak with Alexander at once. He will—”

  “Nope, don’t finish that statement, Mom.”

  “Alright, I won’t. I will make an effort to understand that Junior loves having them in his life. See, I don’t have to impede in your lives.”

  “Well, let’s not go so far. With my vision and a little bit of your money, I plan to have a quaint wedding with Donnie next year. You know, since the bride’s parents are traditionally held responsible for the finances. I keep thinking Christmas for some reason.”