by Amarie Avant
She had fit into the palm of his hand. His little bird. He had felt no nervousness when he took her virginity years ago. But she’d been like a ripe peach, sweet and ready for his sole enjoyment.
His hands gripped her ass. She was his. There'd be no games. If she fucked him over this time, he’d have it in his mind to squeeze her tiny little neck until she couldn’t hurt him any longer. Damn, that thought made his eyes burn. Donavan was a pussy. He could never hurt her in the ways that she had hurt him.
For now, hard words and frowns weren’t gonna cut it. Donavan desired to worship her body, to become the man who cherished her. Avery was the only possession of worth he’d ever owned.
His lips sought her mouth with a hunger so strong that their tongues collided instantly. Again, her body sung for him. Though her eyes weren't on his lips, Donavan spoke his claiming.
“You’re fucking mine, AC,” he growled against her mouth. Even if she couldn't hear it, her body understood. They kissed until his lungs slammed against his steel-like chest.
Their lips parted, sending a deep ache into his erection. “Damn, AC. I've missed everything about you.”
Those almond eyes, rich as molasses, burned like fire. In the next second, Avery slapped him across the face, something another person would’ve been murdered for. Something he would have caught if he were in his right mind. And then Avery proceeded to lie to him.
“You! You’ve missed me, Donnie?” Her incredulous eyes were wide—filled with unnecessary anger—at least, he didn’t recall ever hurting her the way she hurt him.
“Donavan Hardy, I've missed you daily. I've prayed for you every night, and not because you are the only man I’ve ever been in love with. But there is no us. I’m happy with who I have, friggen elated. All I need to know is, why did you leave without a word?”
He watched as those eyes teared up for him. Shit. His girl wanted answers. How? She’d been the culprit. The devil himself wasn’t capable of getting Donavan Hardy away from one Avery Castle. But then again, the devil hadn’t taken her from him. She’d lied. She’d said she was his . . . but she’d . . . deceived him!
“Not one call. A letter. Email. Hell, I would’ve taken a text message, Donavan. I-I would have taken just a ‘fuck you, AC. I don't want to be friends anymore.’ Closure!” She gasped, “Anything . . .”
He stared at her in shock. What was the look in her eyes that he was missing? Was she throwing all the fault on him?
“Don’t play games with me, AC.”
“We were friends half our life up until you disappeared. I guess that doesn't qualify me for enlightenment.” She shrugged.
“Avery,” he began, rubbing the rich curls on his head. Donavan wanted to call her a bitch, tell her she was the reason there could be no them any longer.
He shrugged. “It's too late to matter now.”
“So, I wasn't worth a goodbye then?” She asked.
Before Donavan could confess that nothing in the world could stop him from loving her—even though she was a cheating, lying woman; she claimed his heart—red and blue lights began to illuminate the dusk of evening outside.
Through the sheer drapes, he saw them coming. There was no noise in this respectable neighborhood even though they were deep on Castle land, most likely because they were.
He made sure the eye contact was spot on before commanding, “I'm going to go handle this situation, AC. Don't forget I didn't help you. I just helped a woman in need. From here on out, I'm gonna stay in my lane.”
Avery didn't acknowledge his request. Her gorgeous face was set in the cutest frown, thick lips pursed. He stymied the desire to kiss Avery since she was posted at the exit. Her hand seemed hell-bent on taking his.
With his other hand, Donavan signed the words: There is no us, A-C.
With a frown on his face, Donavan tensed his knuckles tightly as he walked past.
The knocking wasn't as hasty as Donavan expected. Avery zipped by him to open the door.
What was she thinking? She used to pull the same crap when they’d get caught at the baseball field at school in the middle of the night. They’d pretend to be playing. Bases loaded, the eighth inning, world series, then some security guard on a go-cart would stop.
The monotonous male-cop voice began. “Hey, Avery. Carla and I are looking for a man about five feet nine—”
Add a fucking inch to that. Donavan broke into the candid conversation, pulling the door wider and saying, “Me?”
“No,” Avery cut in, with a swift jerk of her hand.
“Yes,” the male cop said. The female cop that Donavan could only assume was Carla began to read his Miranda rights.
Avery’s hysterical tone increased. “Carla, stop. He didn't do anything.”
Officer Carla—who apparently was on a first name basis with Avery—turned and placed a hand on Avery’s shoulder. “I'm sorry, Avery, but—”
“We're taking him in.” The male officer seemed to catch an attitude while looking back and forth between the two. Donavan already knew the deal. His only qualm? Fucking Friday night, which meant he'd spend the weekend in a holding tank till a judge decided to wisecrack him on Monday. Fuck. He realized that Monday was a holiday. So, he’d have to wait until Tuesday.
Carla was now speaking to Avery as the other officer, the angrier of the two, escorted him out.
Donavan walked, head tilted toward the evening sun, with not a concern in the world. Logic begged him not to look back, but his heart wouldn't allow it.
“Donnie,” Avery called out to him, crying as the officer pushed him closer to the cruiser.
“Howard, stop!” Avery shouted as Officer Howard put a hand on the top of Donavan’s head, shoving Donavan into the car. It was protocol for placing scum like Donavan into the backseat of a cruiser. “Hey, don't do that. Don't hurt him.”
Donavan pulled at his handcuffs, wanting to sign, but instead growled for Howard to move out of the way. “It's okay, doll.” Donavan tried, but Avery didn’t appear to be reading his lips. She was being too daggone emotional.
Howard slammed the door and slid into the front seat. As Donavan looked back at Avery and the female officer attempting to console her, Howard asked, “So, asshole, how do you know Miss. Castle?”
Donavan let the words go through one ear and out the other.
“I saw that video across the way. Taken from a convenience store. Made it seem like you really knew how to scrap. Let's see how bad you really are.” Howard looked back at him.
Their glares matched. Donavan's never wavered. Carla got into the passenger seat, so Officer Howard was forced to look away. The car started.
Donavan wondered if the jealousy he felt stemmed from some sort of past relationship between Avery and Good ‘ol Officer Howard. After all, Donavan knew how sweet and tempting Avery Castle was.
CHAPTER 8
Avery
It was a little past nine p.m. After requiring over an hour to dress, and, as she would say, “let me put on my face,” Verdrena wore a trench coat as she sat in the passenger seat of Avery’s car. The designer shades over her eyes and the perfectly situated designer shawl around her neck defeated her attempt to go incognito. It was funny. Avery still wore the same clothing that she had on while becoming an accessory to an assault.
She hadn't expected her mom to flag her down while driving to the police station. What’s more, Avery hadn’t planned on stopping for her. Then again, the only assistance the plastic card in Avery’s pocket would provide was that it would come in handy if she tossed the darn thing in the eye of the releasing police officer. She always kept the card at a respectable balance for emergencies, but she knew she didn’t have enough for this.
As they got out of the car, Avery halfway mumbled the words she hated to say. “Mom, can I borrow your credit card?”
“Wow!” Her mother signed. Then she placed her hands on her hips. “I didn't think you knew how to ask for money,” Verdrena replied.
When her daughter h
uffed, Verdrena locked her elbow around Avery’s and said, “Don't get so melancholy. Yes, of course. Though, I'd rather it have been for shopping sprees. And that a more proper reintroduction would’ve occurred between you and little Donnie Hardy.”
It was shocking to Avery that her mother liked Donavan. Out of all her family members, only her great-grandma, Franny, had welcomed him so readily when they came to visit her at the Baudelaire Plantation. And Antonio, but that was because Donavan wasn’t one of those boyfriends that kept a girl locked in a room or the backseat of a car just for a piece of ass. Donavan had played videos with Antonio and taught him how to do tricks on a skateboard when they had watched him.
With her mother’s support, Avery walked through the parking lot of the police station. A few cars dotted the lot.
“Oh God, Salvador.” Avery’s jaw dropped. She’d thought that he'd be out in the field tonight. He usually called when he got off shift, and if he didn’t call by a certain time, she’d roll up her sleeping bag and leave the Baudelaire home for his condo. What were the chances that he was here when she came to bail out another grown ass man?
Verdrena stopped before her, gathering her attention. “Should I go in by myself, bail him out?”
“No. I got this,” Avery said with the determination of a woman prepared to get answers no matter how hard they’d be to swallow.
“All right, sweetie. Let's get to it then.”
As they made their way to the glass doors, Howard's judgmental face came to Avery’s mind. Salvador trained him. They weren't exactly best friends, but the guys did hang out at a cop bar after a long, hard day. Avery hoped Howard had a little more discretion than a broad gossiping in a beauty parlor.
Verdrena must have felt she was needed because Avery watched as she spoke to an officer, claiming to be a friend of Donavan’s. She began the process to start the paperwork for Donavan. Avery felt in over her head and didn't know what she would do without her flamboyant mother who took away the stress.
Avery saw Verdrena turn. With their hips close together, she slightly touched her daughter’s hand. The gesture spoke volumes. Avery grimaced while catching the knowing look on her mom’s face before turning slowly on the heels of her feet. It was difficult masking the guilt she felt.
Salvador wore a cream-colored suit that was sculpted to his broad shoulders. “Babe, it’s almost ten p.m. What are you doing here?” He asked, pulling her in for a hug. The touch did little to pacify her worry because here he was being considerate and loving. Damn, this almost feels like I’ve betrayed him. Okay, I did betray him! But I stopped myself from ruining my life again! And ruining what Salvador and I have.
Knowing her mother was speaking based on Salvador’s non-verbal cues, Avery turned around to read Verdrena’s lips. “Yes. We're here for our, um, new . . . bodyguard.”
Avery’s saucer-like eyes bore through her mother. Verdrena never ceased to amaze her. When it came to Alexander, Avery had seen way too much. She understood him. However, with her mother. . . Avery had felt the intensity of the shouting, the screaming, Verdrena would do when Alexander was home. Her mom was a broken record, seething as she’d say how much she hated her husband. Then Avery would see the two with their tongues down each other’s throats. It was a sight.
With two dysfunctional parents, Avery thought love came from a touch or a smile or the willingness to go out of your way just to see said smile.
That was before Donavan ran off.
But now, as Avery watched her overly dramatic mother spin a tale, she didn’t know what to make of the situation. Her mom was enamored with love—when Alexander showered her with diamonds and roses, the world aligned with the moon and stars. When he didn’t, Verdrena would go crazy. But Avery never considered how her mom took to Donavan. She’d smile when Avery would mention the sweet things Donavan would do. “It was the little things,” her mom would say that was the reason she stayed with Alexander. It was the reason she didn’t turn her nose up to Donavan.
The little things don’t mean shit anymore.
As Avery looked at Salvador, she knew he was a better choice. It was evident in the way Verdrena stared at him. But what was she thinking? What choice? Donavan was no choice at all. He was just the end of the worst chapter of her life. What once was her past, her present, and the perfect future, was no more. Donavan’s truth would be the final nail in their child’s coffin. She would have closure.
But then Avery noticed her childhood love being escorted out of the back.
“AC, why in the world would you bail me outta jail?” Donavan asked.
Salvador whipped around. Avery hurried to bring her line of view to both men to ensure she didn't miss anything being said.
“Bodyguard? He's no bodyguard.” Salvador scoffed.
Donavan's head cocked to the side. “Hell, no. I'm not a fucking bodyguard.”
Both gave her their full attention. Salvador spoke first.
“Who is this man calling you AC, Avery?”
Avery grimaced. Guess you’re too angry to refer to me as ‘mi amor?’
CHAPTER 9
Salvador
The intimacy of a nickname didn't sit right with Salvador, nor did his girlfriend and her mother paying bail for another man. After the way Alexander Castle had shamed Salvador for even attempting to say hello when he saw Alex and Avery at dinner for the first time, Salvador had determined that the Castle family snubbed their noses at the working class. The piece of crap before him didn’t even make that cut.
He wanted this all to be a dream, a bad, restless dream. Yeah, the joke was on him because his woman, his life source, was at the jailhouse to bail out another man. Circumstantial evidence pointed to her living some kind of double life.
He looked Avery in the eye, waiting for a response. He was tempted to ask again, but Avery had no issues reading lips even when nervous. His dark eyes were a grave storm, and his face warned that there would be no asking the same question for the second time.
“I . . .” Avery stuttered.
The guy attempted to speak in Avery’s favor as her mother had just done. “It's clear that you two need to talk. This was a mistake—”
“Yeah, this was a mistake,” Salvador assured. He looked down at the perp, sizing him up. There was an excess of incriminating tats on his arms. Salvador scanned each one quickly to figure out if any of the designs were jailhouse or gang related. None of them were. “Who are you?”
“Donavan Hardy.” He held out a hand.
Sal sneered. He’d been so angry that he’d forgotten about Avery’s past. This was the douchebag who’d broken her heart. Hardy put his hand down and nodded as if expecting as much. Donavan chuckled at the snub, saying, “But feel free to look me up, check out my credentials.”
They glared at each other. Salvador’s face a tabula rasa, while the shorter of the two held onto a cocky grin as if he already knew. Damn right Salvador was going to investigate this situation further. Avery had told him just how disgusting Donavan had been. He’d left her pregnant and headed to the army without so much as a concern for the girl he’d known since elementary school.
He forced himself not to ball up his fists by unconsciously level out his breathing.
~~~
Avery rode home with Salvador, while her mother drove Avery’s car back to the Castle family house. They stood in his bedroom. Though he was no longer seething, he grabbed her wrist before she could palm his face.
“Sal, please allow me to explain.”
“Great. That's exactly what I've been waiting for.” He paused. When the woman of his dreams made no move to talk, he shouted, “Speak!”
Avery flinched. His anger, so apparent on his face, made Salvador sigh and instantly apologize, coupled with the guilty hooding of his eyes. Now, he palmed her cheek. “I apologize, mi amor. Talk to me.”
Avery rose up on her tippy toes, planting tender kisses on his lips. Salvador chose not to pucker. The need to be of sound mind guarded his usually g
iving heart. Unity was his ultimate goal with a ring binding them for infinity. However, an entire CD filled with Avery’s songs for another man was a silent tune within his ear, taunting him that Avery Castle loved some selfish prick who could care less about her. And she could make music for that asshole and not the man who freely gave his heart!
“Avery, I am madly in love with you,” Salvador declared through gritted pearly whites.
“Oh Sal, you know how much I love you, baby,” Avery’s words mingled perfectly with the melody weaving tauntingly through his mind. Her eyes told no lies. Avery’s mannerisms spoke volumes. He knew. She loved him too.
The ability to read Avery’s body language should have tapered his raging emotions. But Salvador wasn’t ready to give into Avery’s beauty.
“Tell me you don’t still love that panocha singao! He broke your heart. He left you pregnant and . . . and when your child died, was he there?” he screamed before remembering that raising his voice was in vain.
“We were kids,” she mumbled. Then there it was, the wavering of Avery’s gaze. Those metallic brown irises faltered then found his. “Sal, we were best friends. We were in love. You know that we were in love.”
“I am aware!” He signed the words: “Do you still love him?”
Her gaze widened at the sight. Salvador initially intended to use sign language for the first time to ask for her hand in marriage. But today, he’d thrust out each word, needing an answer. Did. She. Still. Love. That. Bastard.
Seconds passed without Avery offering an answer.
“Si! I love you so much that I’ve been learning how to sign. Every lunch break, every time I have a moment, I listen to a recording or watch a video on YouTube, Avery. Because I fucking love you, you’re mi amor. Now, all I need to know is, do you still love that bastard?”
Her head tilted down, and she began to nod slowly. “I still love him.”
The admission hit him with full force. Avery licked her lips apprehensively. She murmured, “But as far as being in love with him, that was years ago, Sal. We mean nothing to each other anymore. Today, he saved me. That’s all, baby, that’s the truth.”