by Maya Rossi
“Hey, hey,” Gladys rubbed her back harder. “Think positive, you’ve got to be strong. They will find him.”
“Brayden delivered the ransom money,” Rhonda whispered, “We’ll receive news any moment now.” She dithered, exchanging a look with Gladys.
Ava froze. “What—what’s going on? Tell me!”
“I think you were harsh on Brayden.” Rhonda picked at the hem of her skirt.
She blinked. “And you’re telling me this now? Like I fucking care? He left us and you wanted me to welcome him with open arms?”
“It’s his money,” Rhonda said, “you--”
“I don’t fucking care, you hear me. I want my son--”
Gladys glared at Rhonda. “He will be here--”
“Just leave me alone. Tell your husband to do his fucking job.” Ava lurched from the bed to the bathroom and banged the door behind her. With a sob, she dropped against the door and slid down to the ground.
With the blanket pressed to her face, Ava bowed her head, weeping profusely. She tried to run through the events of the day, she might have missed something. It was just after lunch. She had just put Max to bed and returned to help Gladys clear out the garden. Since they were at the back of the house, they heard nobody, saw nothing.
After about three hours she checked on Max and discovered him missing. It was hell from there. Ava tried to imagine her life without Max and couldn’t. There was an aching emptiness, yawning and painful where her son should be.
A knock on the door jerked her from her reverie. Ava closed her eyes as tears slipped from the corners. “Leave me alone.”
“Shhh, wait son, your mother’s taken a moment,” Brayden said.
Ava paused, slowly dropping her hands from her face. The unmistakable sound of Max blabbing reached her ears. With a tearful cry, she jerked the door open. And there was Max cradled in Brayden’s arms. She threw herself at them, sobbing and laughing at the same time.
When she could catch her breath, Ava punched Brayden’s side. “If you had been here, it wouldn’t have fucking happened. Damn you, you caused this. Oh, God.”
He gathered her close. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”
“Your fucking cologne,” Ava said.
Brayden stepped back, staring at her in consternation. “My what?”
“Your fucking cologne.” She burst into tears. “I’m just so happy—here, let me.”
He passed Max to her. Together, they bathe and dressed him. Later, Ava hugged her son close, relishing each draw of his mouth on her breast.
“Hey.” Brayden knelt at their feet, watching his son suck. Max reached out a hand, catching his father on the chin. Brayden caught his hand and pressed a kiss to it. “How are you?”
“My heart’s still racing,” Ava admitted. “I’m never getting over today.”
“I—I wanted to kill him, I thought I would.”
“Who?”
“Garth.” Brayden’s eyes turned far away. “The investigation into the scams perpetrated by BMF led the police to Garth. They placed a warrant for his arrest. In retaliation he came after me--”
“I thought it might be one of your father’s victims or something,” Ava said.
“I thought so too, imagine my surprise when I met Garth at the drop off when I went to deliver the ransom money.”
“So he asked for you?”
“He wanted to convince me to take the fall for the scam in return for Max but the police were already on his tail--”
“Would you have taken the fall?” Ava asked.
“To get Max? I would have. Janet helped him. That was why she was here the other day. But — she just… handed Max over before the exchange. Ran past Garth with Max. He ran after her, screaming at her to get back.” Brayden rubbed his eyes wearily. “I never liked him, but I never expected him to go this far, leak my secrets, use my foundation for… Jack is devastated.”
“Fucking hell, I forgot Jack dated him.”
He smiled wryly. “He will correct you if he were here. After Janet handed Max over, she thrust a gun at me, said she was sorry for everything.”
“I think she meant the rape accusation too.”
“Yeah, maybe. I had the gun in my hand and Garth was there, shouting and raving about how I got everything. I wanted to kill him--”
“Brayden!”
“I wanted to, for making you and Max suffer, I wanted to kill him… but I didn’t, couldn’t.”
“Why?”
Brayden laughed, the relief great, softening his features. “I remembered standing by his father’s bedside. Mr Brown helped me so many times. He was the kindest, sweetest man and always had a nice word for me. Garth looks a lot like him but he isn’t anything like him. He wasn’t his father’s son.”
“Yes,” Ava whispered, leaning forward to brush a kiss across his lips.
“That was when I knew, I’m not Joseph Sidwell and Garth isn’t Mr Brown.”
Round twelve
Chapter thirty-two
“I am Brayden Marshall, partner to Ava Miller Marshall, dad to Maximus Marshall and step brother to Hannah Jacobs. I am a former professional boxer, undefeated in forty-two professional fights. I am also the founder of the Benjamin Marshall foundation in honor of my brother. My father is the serial killer Joseph Sidwell.”
Brayden arched an eyebrow, looking over the teeming press conference. “Ask your questions.”
“It’s going well,” Hannah remarked, taking the empty seat by Ava’s side. “Still angry he didn’t want you to attend?”
Ava made a face. “Not so much. I didn’t exactly leave a good impression with many of my colleagues.”
“I’m pretty sure they must have forgotten by now. At least you’re not mother. She’s alone now, my father has asked for a divorce and Brayden wants nothing to do with her.”
“How do you feel about that?” Ava asked.
Before Hannah would respond, Sophie came along and casually plucked Max from her arms. Hannah rolled her eyes. “Whose idea was it to hold the barbecue here anyway?”
“You wanted Terry?” Ava was surprised. “We go there all the time.”
Sophie winked. “You just don’t want me competing with you for Max’s affection.”
After Sophie left, Ava tugged Hannah’s hair. “You really wanted Terry’s?”
“Not really, I’m just teasing. Terry will be even worse since I’ll have to compete with Tom, Robin and many others to carry Max.”
“So, how do you feel about the divorce?”
“Great, surprisingly.” Hannah tucked her hair behind her ear. “I watched her harass Brayden, saw her coldness and hatred first hand, I wish she would change but after everything, I don’t think she will, so I’m… OK, I guess.”
“Ava?” Rick called from the kitchen. “Come help me with this.”
In the kitchen, Ava ran into Deborah. Rick inclined his head, pointing his beer bottle between them. “Make up, and that’s an order.”
They looked at each other, memories of their fight intruding like a nasty smell in a packed party. Deborah covered her hand with her mouth. “You look so much like him.”
“I don’t,” Ava exclaimed, “his nose is flatter.”
Their eyes met, and they laughed, hugging each other close.
“I miss him,” Deborah whispered. “I still hurt, Ava.”
Ava hugged her tight. “Me too.”
∞∞∞
“Are you smelling me?” Brayden frowned down at her. Strapped to his father’s front and content to chew on his shirt, Max watched her with a practically identical expression.
“Don’t act like you don’t get caveman ideas knowing I like how you smell,” Ava retorted.
“Tell me again about those caveman ideas and don’t act like you love boxing so much you can’t focus on our discussion.” He captured her jaw and spun her face away from the big screen towards him. “We both know why you’re really here.”
“And why’s that?” Ava asked, eyes
on the screen as the boxers entered the ring.
“Brooks is gonna get knocked out tonight,” someone shouted from the front.
“Hell, no,” Ava shouted back. “He’s winning.”
“You’re here for the people.” Brayden tugged his shirt out of Max’s mouth. “Don’t expect me to save you when you step on the wrong toe tonight.”
Robin walked over with a plate of chips balanced on her right hand. “Is she harassing innocent people again? You know Terry’s going to be mad right?”
“Who, Terry?” Brayden smiled. “That man’s got a crush on my girl.”
Ava smacked his shoulder. “Don’t let him hear you say it.”
“How’s my beautiful boy?” Robin leaned over Brayden’s shoulder to greet Max.
“Who you got?” Steve asked Brayden as he took the seat at his side.
“I would take the vet. He’s intelligent, takes his punch, uses both side and center of the ring. Brook is too obvious. He wants a brawl. The vet will frustrate him, pick him apart. When he tires and is angry the fight isn’t going his way, the vet will destroy him.”
Steve took a sip of his beet. “You got that from watching them just now?”
“Brook attended my training camp, fought the vet. That boy, he doesn’t learn, too hardheaded.”
“Ever thought of doing sport analysts, you know, those people who talk and--”
“I know them.” Brayden wiped drool off Max’s mouth gently. “I’m not interested in going back to the sport. I’ve got many things planned.”
“Better do it now,” Steve nodded at Max, “the age when he wouldn’t be so gentle is knocking.”
Thirty minutes later, the fight was over, having gone exactly as Brayden predicted. Ava stood outside Terry’s with her family, her hand safe in Brayden’s hold.
“Dad wants us to come over for dinner on Sunday.” Ava moved to stand in front of Brayden, pleading with her eyes he accept the invitation.
Though her parents never blamed him for Ryan’s death, there was still tension. “I need you to get along, they’re wonderful people and--”
“Shhh,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead as the driver brought the car around, “you don’t have to convince me. I’ll try.”
When Brayden pulled her into his arms during the drive back, Ava sighed gratefully. Max reached for her nose, his aim surer than it was weeks ago. He tugged hard and Ava growled. Moving in to get her own pound of flesh, Ava reached for Max’s nose but Brayden shielded their son with one arm while holding her back with the other. When she finally touched his nose, Max clapped.
“Really? Buddy, that’s all you’re going to do?” Brayden asked, dismayed at his son’s reaction.
Max clapped again and reached for his father’s nose. Brayden laughed, hugging Ava close. “I love you, Ava Miller,” Max kicked out his legs, catching his arm, “and you too Maximus Marshall.”