Lost Avalon: A Finding Nolan Novel

by Thomas, K. S.

  “Champagne?” We had barely walked into the room when the first server approached us.

  “No, thank you.” I quickly tugged at Blaise’s hand to move him along.

  “What? You don’t think I could have turned him down myself?”

  I could tell he wasn’t super impressed with being treated like a two year old.

  “Sorry. Just habit I guess. But you’re right. You’ve been doing amazingly well. I should trust you to decline your own drink offers.”

  His expression softened again. “It’s fine. I know I’ve acted like an imbecile often enough to make you feel that way.”

  I fought back a nod of agreement, but it made its way through anyway. Blaise just grinned and led the way further inside to join the others who had already found our table for the evening.

  Considering the size of our party, there were only four others seated with us for the night. Two couples. One was a husband and wife team of musicians who had established an outstanding reputation in recent years for their talent in producing beautiful soundtracks for animated children’s films. The second pair consisted of a former composer and her husband, a cellist. Both had retired from the limelight some time ago, but still enjoyed coming out for occasions such as these.

  I tried not to be obvious about the fact that I spent all night watching Blaise like a hawk, my heart coming to a complete standstill any time one of the shot wielding cocktail waitresses came perusing the table. I wasn’t sure what I dreaded more. Him taking a shot or grabbing the waitress by the hand and running off to go and screw her in a bathroom stall.

  Neither image was pleasant to view yet they continued to flip back and forth within my mind, torturing me endlessly, while Blaise sat beside me completely innocent.

  I wasn’t the only one whose eyes seemed to dart back and forth between Blaise and the walking booze. Royce was doing a pretty solid impression of someone entirely too engulfed in a ping pong match over on his side of the table.

  One sideways glance at Blaise and I could tell by his expression that he had taken note of both of us and our overbearing observations. The only thing keeping him from snapping at either one of us was that no one else was ever supposed to find out what our trip to Bora Bora had really been about. As far as everyone knew, we had enjoyed a romantic getaway. Which, had turned out to be a lot truer than I had planned it to be.

  As a side effect of my anxiety I had found myself nervously speed drinking my water just for something to do, and damn the water guy if he hadn’t come around every time the water level in my glass dropped below the halfway point.

  Two hours into the party and I had to pee so fucking bad I thought I might wet myself just by standing up and giving gravity a straight shot at my bladder. Of course this was right around the same time Royce had decided to go and chat up a hot new up and coming actor sitting several feet over which meant I had no one to back me up in my absence. But I couldn’t take it. I had to leave Blaise unattended.

  I practically ran all the way to the ladies room. In part because I wanted to get back to Blaise as soon as possible, but mostly because I was wearing a light lavender gown and no one would be able to overlook it if parts of it suddenly turned a deep shade of purple.

  When I came back to the table a few minutes later, Blaise was missing.

  “Hey, any of you see where my date went?” I joked, but the tension probably already showed on my face. At least, that’s what I concluded from Sammy’s expression.

  “I think he went up to the bar.” She pointed through the crowd of minglers toward the back of the room.

  I swallowed hard. “Thanks.”

  Then, trying to be more subtle than I’d been on my way to the ladies room, I did my best to saunter off in his direction at high speed. I was barely within full view of the bar top when I spotted Blaise chatting up a leggy red head, fully equipped with her own tray of liquids in short glasses. Fucking red heads. What is his deal?

  “There you are.” I had intended for it to sound casual and light, but with my teeth clenched together tightly it had turned it into more of a hiss. Nothing pleasant about that. “I got back to the table and couldn’t find you.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was supposed to check in with you before walking across the room. Next time I’ll leave a note.”

  The red head broke into a giggle. Naturally, it was so physically overwhelming she needed to steady herself by placing her free hand on Blaise’s chest.

  I wanted to fucking strangle her.

  “A note. A trail of breadcrumbs. What the fuck ever. Just something to make my job of tracking your ass down a little bit easier.”

  I could see Blaise’s jaw move back and forth. If he had been a wind-up toy, that would have been him winding. He was about to blow any second.

  “Your job? You’re my manager, not my motherfucking keeper.”

  “Funny. Tonight I thought I was your girlfriend.”

  I could tell from the look on Red’s face that Blaise had yet to mention he had one of those.

  “I thought so, too. So why the hell are you acting like my goddamn babysitter?”

  I leaned in closer to keep myself from shouting. “You know damn well why.”

  Except it was too late. We’d already garnered ourselves a healthy dose of attention.

  “Guys, what’s going on?” Derek got to us first and immediately tried to diffuse the situation. “Miss, this is kind of personal, do you mind?” Red made a face and traipsed off.

  “Apparently Ava is having a little episode with insecurity tonight.” Blaise’s snide tone hit me before I even registered his words.

  Before I could hit him with a few choice comments of my own, Sammy came up beside me and hooked her arm into mine. “Come on, hun. You know better than anyone that it’s just part of the gig.”

  “What?” Were they freaking kidding me with this?

  “Yeah, Ava. If this is going to work between us, you can’t have a fucking meltdown every time I talk to another woman. Especially at events like this.” He shook his head at me in disgust and walked away into the crowd. I could hardly believe it. Except of course that I had known all along this could happen.

  “Don’t let it get to you. Just give him some time…and maybe a couple of shots.” Sammy laughed not knowing the danger in her implications.

  “Yeah.” The mounting anger had already started to morph into hot lava, burning my insides and damn near bringing me to tears right there out in the open in front of everyone. Worst part was, I could see Red making her way back over with an empty tray.

  “I think I’m going to go ahead and call it an early night, Sam.”

  She looked surprised. “Oh no. You can’t leave. Come on, let’s go dance and just forget about the boys for a while.”

  “Sorry, I just don’t think I can.” I untangled my arm from her grasp and hurried off, purposely choosing a route opposite of the one Blaise had traveled during his exit.

  No longer caring if my actions garnered any unwanted attention, I climbed into the car we had waiting outside for us and instructed the driver to head home. If Blaise wanted to stay and party he could do so all night for all I cared. He certainly wouldn’t have a need for the car until later anyway.

  I spent the next four hours sitting on the sofa and staring at the clock above the fireplace in complete silence. My phone had been blowing up since I left the event, but I hadn’t even bothered to check who it was. There was no need to. Of course it was Blaise. I had no intention of telling him anything by phone. No. It would all be in person.

  Finally, at one a.m. I heard some commotion at the front door. I still didn’t get up. If he was struggling to get it open without me, well, now would be a good time to start getting used to that.

  “Son of a bitch.” Blaise would have fallen through the doorway if Royce hadn’t been there to steady him.

  “Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Royce said as he led Blaise over to the other sofa and all but dropped him on it.
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  “Almost wasn’t.”

  “Wouldn’t have blamed you. Shit night.” He turned to leave. “Oh, just a heads up. Some dude named Joey Bartolotto was out front at the gate when we pulled up.” Blaise’s dealer. “Told him to fuck off, but I doubt he did. Plus, mega-douche over here was gesturing for him to wait.”

  “Blaise. Why would Joey be here?”

  He shrugged.

  “Don’t know? Okay. Well, why don’t you tell Royce who he is?” Just in case the blacked out windows on his dropped down Escalade and the tacky fucking blinged out rims didn’t give it away.

  “I don’t think Royce gives a shit, but Joey’s my gardener.”

  “I’m sure he is.” Royce looked at me one last time. “Door will be open.”

  I nodded. I was doing the right thing. If Royce knew what I was going to do without me telling him then it had to be so right that it was obvious. I was doing the right thing.

  The door closed behind Royce and we were alone.

  “You lied.”

  “About what?” Like he didn’t know.

  “About Joey. You lied to Royce. Just like you lied to Derek about that fucking waitress tonight. That’s twice in one night Blaise. Twice you made me stand there and keep another fucking secret for you. Twice you broke your promise.”

  I watched Blaise’s expression change from annoyed to pissed and then to worried before he landed back on annoyed again. Not that I cared much about how he’d take the news I had to share with him, but it was good to know he wasn’t so far gone he wouldn’t comprehend it and more importantly, remember it come morning.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” he grunted as he kicked off his shoes and put his feet up on the coffee table.

  “I’m talking about the promise you made me in Bora Bora. You promised me that there would be no more secrets. There were two tonight.”

  He shook his head. “You can’t count those, Ava. They’re old secrets.”

  “Fuck that. They were old secrets forty-seven days ago. Today they’re brand new.” I got to my feet. “You have two choices. Either you walk into the studio tomorrow morning and come clean to the guys about what really happened here tonight. Or…”

  “Or what?”

  I took a deep breath. “Or we’re done.”

  Finally he got to his feet. “Ava, come on. I know you’re pissed at me. I fucked up. That shit happens.”

  “You’re not hearing me, Blaise. I’m not walking out because you fell off the wagon. I’m walking out because you’re asking me to lie for you. You’re asking me to cover and I can’t. You want to keep secrets, attempt to hide your addictions? Knock yourself the fuck out. I’m done playing. You can’t keep setting me up for fucking failure. And that’s all I can do here. I tell the truth, I fail you. I break my loyalty, lose your trust, maybe your love…” I paused. “But, if I don’t speak up, I fail myself. I fail myself by standing by and helping you destroy the one person who means more to me than anyone else on earth.”

  He was staring at me dumbfounded, like he didn’t get it.

  “You, asshole.” I poked him hard in the chest. “You’ve been my entire world for as long as I can remember. But that wasn’t enough for you. You had to have my fucking heart, too. Well, you got it, Blaise! Now what the fuck are you going to do with it?” I was yelling. Loudly.

  “I told you I was sorry. What do you want from me?” He was shouting right back.

  I took a deep breath. “I want you to tell the truth. I want you to admit that you have a problem. Not to the whole world, but at least to the band. It’s the only way you’re ever going to stay sober. Without their support, you’ll keep getting offered things you don’t have the fucking willpower to turn down. And don’t tell me you can handle it. Tonight proved that you can’t.”

  Blaise was shaking his head before I even finished talking. “Not happening, Ava. You know damn well I can’t take a risk like that. No one can know. That was the deal.”

  “That was the deal. Before you went out and got shitfaced and blamed my attempt at intervention on my supposed insecurities. So, now that deal is out. This new deal is in. Tell the truth, or you and I are done.”

  Blaise’s face was contorting in all sorts of ugly ways and I wasn’t sure if the bulk of his aggravation stemmed from dealing with me or not having had a full fix yet tonight. Well, Joey Bartolotto could take care of that for him as soon as I was gone.

  “Say something, Blaise.” I was getting impatient. Like taking a stand against him wasn’t already hard enough. Like I didn’t know where this was leading since before I started the conversation. I didn’t need to drag it out any longer than necessary. All I wanted was to rip that fucking band aid off and get it over with. Only Blaise was making that impossible.

  “Ava, don’t do this.” He was switching gears. To step it up a notch, he came closer and began rubbing the outside of my arms, trying to get me to uncross them and relax. It wasn’t happening this time.

  “No. You don’t do this.”

  “You know you can’t really leave me, Avalon. I love you. And I know that you love me, even if you’re mad at me right now.” His voice had softened and he was almost crooning in my ear.

  His blatant attempt to manipulate me set me off like a bowling ball rolling in for a strike. That anger slowly traveled down into the pit of my stomach and then, BAM.

  “You cocky son of a bitch.” I threw my arms up, breaking away from his touch. For the first time, his hands on me had actually made my skin crawl.

  “Oh, now I’m cocky, too?” He smirked. It was patronizing and beyond insulting considering the state he was in. Which actually made it pretty fucking pathetic.

  “Yeah, you’re cocky. One cocky motherfucker. Don’t go taking that shit as a compliment either.”

  Blaise shrugged. “I don’t know. Kind of sounds like you’re implying I have a big dick. Hard to take offense to that.” He was still mocking me.

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Only the joke’s on you, asshole. A cock, as in the original, cock and hen, doesn’t even have a penis. So, you tell me if being cocky is still a fucking compliment.”

  I spun around on my heel and marched straight for the coat closet where I had stashed my packed bags before he came home. Loading two straps over my shoulder and grabbing a hold of the suitcase on wheels, I started my march for the front door.

  Around that time, reality set in.

  “What the hell, Ava? You already had your fucking bags packed?” He stormed up beside me. “You knew you were leaving before you even talked to me!”

  My shoulders slumped and I shook my head sadly. “That’s because I already knew exactly what you were going to say.”

  Then, without another word, I walked out.

  ***

  Fuck me. FUCK ME. What was wrong with me? Was I really just going to let Ava walk out? Considering I couldn’t even see her in the driveway anymore, the answer was apparently, yes.

  I slammed the door shut and just stood there. A million different sounds and images flooded my mind. Ava. That night. The waitress. Joey Bartolotto. The first shot Derek bought me. The second shot. Ava. Ava crying the night her father left. Ava with bloodshot eyes and pale skin every morning after until we graduated high school. Watching the next nine years of her life go by spending night after night tending to her drunk of a mother and day after day taking care of her four younger siblings.

  I thought I’d been a good friend to her back then. Well. At least until my mother died. Then everything turned to shit and before I knew it, I was just as dependent on Ava as her mother was. More so maybe.

  I was such a piece of shit. How many times had I seen her teetering on the edge of her own undoing all because of what her mother was putting her through? How had I not seen that what I was doing, what I had been doing, was so much fucking worse?

  I screamed. I screamed from the core of my being. Furious with myself. Furious with the world. My mother for leaving the way she did. My
father for never allowing us to live the truth. He’d made a liar out of me. It was his fault. But if I didn’t change, if I didn’t find a way to be honest with myself and those closest to me, I would lose Ava for good. And that would be on me, no one else.

  Chapter 14

  I didn’t even knock, I just let myself in and dropped everything in Royce’s foyer, letting the noise announce my arrival. Within seconds, he was there, holding me tight while I cried on his shoulder. Seemed I was doing that a lot lately. Crying. I’d thought it was a good thing a few weeks back. Thought I was sort of cleansing my soul, purging the crap from the past and moving forward. I’d been fooling myself. I knew that now.

  “Come on. I’ve got coffee and Nutella in the kitchen.”

  We left all my stuff where it was as Royce led the way forth from the rubble and to safer ground.

  He gestured for me to take a seat at the kitchen table and I immediately curled back into the soft cushions and pulled up my feet. Royce’s idea of appropriate seating in the breakfast nook consisted of cushy club chairs. Not at all conducive to eating at a table, but very cool to look at and even better to sit in. Plus, the only thing anyone ever consumed at this table was coffee and the occasional bag of Doritos. Who needed a stiff, straight back chair for that?

  Royce handed me a hot mug the size of a cereal bowl and I felt a flood of tears rush in all over again. Blaise was supposed to be my best friend, but these days it seemed like Royce was the one actually acting like it. Even after I’d been lying to him, and then made him lie to the others on top of it. What kind of a person had I become?

  “I suck, Royce. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be stupid. Drink your coffee. Here.” He slid a jar of Nutella with a spoon in it onto the table along with a container of brownie bites which looked like they were fresh from the bakery.

  “Were you expecting me?”

  “Yeah.” He looked sullen as he went to take a seat across from me. “Not that I was hoping for it, but…I don’t know. That night Blaise went missing after you walked out. It was a serious eye opener, you know? I mean, so many things I’d been ignoring suddenly made a ton of sense. Made it kind of hard to ignore his pattern. He fucks up, you fix it. He fucks up again…”