by Jess Dee
Jared’s stomach cramped at the memory. “But…” he held up a finger, “…you found it. You diagnosed her and referred her on, and they got it all. You saved her.”
“Still felt pretty damn impotent at the time.”
“Okay, so that sense of powerlessness? That’s where I’m at now. Incapable of helping and too damn late to make a difference.” The knowledge ate him alive.
Greg stared at him for a very long time, his gaze somber. “Is Ava sick?”
“No. It’s not like that.”
Greg kept his intense gaze pinned on his brother. “Then what is it like?”
“I was right,” Jared said.
Greg grinned at his twin. “Now there’s something I don’t hear very often.”
“This is one time I wish I didn’t deserve the credit.”
Greg frowned. “Right about what?”
Christ, this was hard. It must have killed Ava to spill her heart. He stared back at his brother, knowing his pain and helplessness were reflected on his face.
“Fuck.” Greg’s cup hit the coffee table with a thud. Black liquid spilled over the edge. “He hurt her?”
Jared’s jaw clenched.
“Son of a bitch.”
“We suspected.” Jared wiped a tired hand over his eyes. “But hearing it from her mouth…”
“It’s always easier to speculate than to know for sure.” Greg leaned forward, his jaw set in a hard line. “Did he do it more than once?”
Again Jared gave his brother a bleak look.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“He broke her rib, just before one of the Dinner Clubs.”
Greg’s face turned white. “No wonder she almost never joined us.”
“That night she did.”
Greg gaped at him. “She came out with a broken rib? After he beat her?”
Jared nodded.
“Jesus.” If possible his face turned even paler. “Fuck.” Greg jumped up and stalked across the room. When he reached the wall, he froze, staring straight ahead. Then he slapped his hand across his mouth and dry heaved.
Jared lay where he was, knowing Greg needed time to digest the truth. Fuck knew, he’d needed time too. Still needed time. He hated believing anything so fucked-up could have happened. But as Ava had pointed out, it was her inability to believe the truth that had led her to stay with the psychopathic motherfucker for four months. Better to believe than to let your ideals tint your world a rosy red.
“She never said a word,” Greg told the wall, his voice hoarse, his shoulders rigid. “How could we help her if she never told us?”
Jared knew exactly why Greg asked. He was struggling with his guilt. He’d sat beside an abused woman and not known. And because he hadn’t known, he hadn’t protected her. Jared grappled with the same guilt, and it left him crazed.
He’d been a million miles away and let Ava down when she’d needed him the most.
Greg stared at his hands. “I’m a doctor, Jazza. A fucking radiologist. I look at broken bones every day, and I couldn’t tell she was injured.”
“She hid it.”
“Intentionally?”
Jared nodded. “Never wanted anyone to know the truth.”
“Jesus. No wonder you look like shit.”
“You’re not looking so hot yourself, bro.”
Greg pinned his gaze on Jared. “Fix her.”
“Huh?”
“Fix her, Jazz. You’re the only one who can.”
The sense of impotence struck again, a relentless pounding at his temples. “How?”
“How what?”
“How do I fix her?”
“Fucked if I know.”
Jared surged to his feet. “Jesus, Greg, you can’t just go issuing orders. Give me something solid to work with.”
“Talk to her,” Greg snapped. “Christ knows, you’re the only one she ever listened to.”
“And say what?”
Greg’s face hardened with determination. “That we’ll protect her. If that fuck comes anywhere near her, we’ll take him out. You tell her she’s safe.”
“I can’t.” Jared struck his forehead with the heel of his palm. “She doesn’t want to see me.”
Greg scrunched up his nose in disbelief. “Pardon?”
Despair crashed over him. “She wants time. Space. Away from me.”
“Bullshit.”
He gave a tired nod. “Truth.”
“Ava never wants time away from you. She said it herself. She wanted to be with you forever.”
Jared stilled. “When did she say that?”
“In school. You asked the other night, remember?”
Disappointment settled on his shoulders. “That was twelve years ago.” Real life had interfered since then. Real life, marriage and wife battery.
“You’re her best friend.”
“And I let her down when she needed me the most.”
Greg held his palm up, stopping Jared. “You weren’t here, bro. You didn’t know.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing. I wasn’t here. She needed me, and I wasn’t here for her.” No wonder Ava wanted space. The one time she’d needed his protection and his help, he’d failed her.
How could she ever rely on him again?
Something wedged in his chest. A solid lump that made breathing a challenge. Even swallowing hurt.
What if Ava believed she couldn’t rely on him in the future? What if his failure to save her from Anthony led to her never trusting him again? What if he’d been wrong, and the happy ending he’d insisted they could find together was no more than a fictional fucking fairytale?
Jared collapsed back onto the couch. He put his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. The breath whooshed from his lungs as though he’d been sucker-punched.
“Bro.” Greg sat down beside him. “We were here, and we didn’t do anything. We can’t change that.” He put his hand on Jared’s shoulder. “But we can change what happens from today.”
Jared shook his head, not negating Greg’s words, just not sure what to do with them.
“She loves you. Maybe not the same way you love her, but she loves you. If anyone can make a difference to how she handles her future and comes to terms with her past, it’s you.”
“It’s not that simple.” Nothing had been simple since Ava met Anthony.
“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying if you keep on being there for her, whenever she needs you, you’ll find a way to fix her. I have faith.”
Jared heaved in a breath. Lucky Greg had faith. Jared’s was hanging by a thread. This morning, he and Ava had made love. Now she didn’t want to see him.
It was pretty hard to imagine that thread not snapping from the slightest rattle.
Chapter Twelve
Ava wiped her palms on her jeans. Her heart pounded, loud enough she was sure it echoed through the empty waiting room.
Seeing Jared had never made her feel like this before, like she’d jump out of her skin if she didn’t lay eyes on him in the next three seconds. But then she’d never slept with her best friend before. Or sat on his face while he’d licked her all the way to heaven—with his arms tied behind his back.
Tremors still pulsed through her every time she thought about their physical intimacy. How was it possible their entire relationship had changed in less than a week? One minute, he was living in America, dating a woman named Angela. The next, he was back in Sydney, declaring his love.
And she was…responding. Craving every kiss he fed her. Aching for his touch. And utterly terrified every time he came close.
It didn’t make sense.
Ten days had passed since they’d made love. Ten days without seeing him. It had taken four days before she’d sent him a SMS. Since then, they’d texted a fair bit, but that was all. She’d needed the time apart to get her head screwed on right. Not that the week and a half alone had helped. She still had no idea how she felt or what she wanted from him. Or from herself, fo
r that matter.
Ava had spent the better part of a year adjusting to her new life. She’d reached a point where she was almost comfortable in her own skin. She could protect herself in a dangerous situation and talk to strange men without fear flaring. Her friends were relaxing around her, finally stopping their millions of questions about what had gone wrong with her marriage. Her shop was thriving, and Ava had begun to find wisps of joy in every day.
No, she hadn’t been happy or content or the Ava she once was. Anthony had destroyed any chance of her ever being the old Ava again. But she’d survived, and she’d been doing okay.
And then Jared returned and pretty much blew her world wide open.
Suddenly surviving and doing okay weren’t enough. Suddenly she wanted more, and the more that she wanted was…her best friend.
How had that happened? How had she fallen in lust with her bestie, when sex and physical contact of any kind scared the bejeepers out of her?
Ava had spent every night apart from Jared prowling her flat, too on edge to sleep. Restlessness had crept through her body, making it difficult to relax or to let her thoughts coalesce into any useful kind of musings.
She felt as though she were standing on the edge of a precipice. Something in her life had to change. Something would change, soon, but she wasn’t sure what.
The receptionist smiled at her, a quizzical look in her eyes. Jared had found a two-month locum position at a veterinary practice in Randwick. He’d started work the day before.
“Hi. I’m here to see Dr. Thurston.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No. I’m a friend. He’s not expecting me.”
It was time to say hello. She’d hidden for long enough. What she’d say after hello was beyond her, but she had a desperate, uncontrollable need to see him.
The receptionist looked relieved. “We’re about to close for the day, so I’m glad you don’t have a pet with you. Take a seat, and I’ll let Dr. Thurston know you’re here. Your name?”
“Ava.” She took a deep breath. There was no turning back now.
The receptionist disappeared into the back and returned quickly.
“He’s just with a patient, but said to send you through to his office. He’ll meet you there when he’s done. Second door on the left. You can’t miss it.”
Ava smiled her thanks, wiped her palms again and headed through the doors with her heart sitting in her throat. She wanted to race to his office almost as much as she wanted to race back out the front door. She’d missed Jared with a savage ferocity. Being away from him had hurt like a physical ache.
She stopped outside the first door on the left, Jared’s voice catching her attention. He stood inside with his back to her, his white doctor’s coat falling down to his jean-covered thighs. He murmured softly, “Easy, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Chills broke out over her skin.
“You’re okay. It’s all good. It’s just me and you, and that’s all.”
Dear God. How often had he used that soothing tone on her since he’d returned home?
“You’re safe,” he said softly. “Completely safe.”
She swallowed hard around a lump that formed in her throat and let her gaze wander past Jared. Standing on the treatment table, shivering, was the most bedraggled mutt she’d ever laid eyes on. He balanced on three legs. The fourth hung uselessly from one shoulder. He stared at Jared with enormous brown eyes, fear and distrust emanating off of him.
“It’s hard, isn’t it? Living on the streets, never knowing who you can trust.” Jared held out his hand, keeping it just beneath the dog’s snout. “Never knowing where your next meal’s coming from.”
The dog sniffed at his fingers but didn’t move. He looked up at Ava and shook harder.
“Go on, baby. Take it. It’s all yours.”
The dog sniffed again and shot Ava a wary glance before staring longingly at Jared’s hand.
“It’s a liver treat. That’s all. Tastes real good,” Jared assured him.
Apart from the crazy shivering, the dog remained still.
“You’re safe,” Jared murmured. “Even with the pretty lady standing there, nothing’s going to happen.”
Ava blinked. He knew she was there?
“That’s Ava. She’s harmless and lovable. I promise. She’s going to take a slow step back and out of the doorway, so you won’t see her anymore. She’ll head into the office and then it’ll just be you and me again.” Jared’s tone didn’t change. He spoke directly to the dog, soothing and calming.
As slowly as she could, Ava eased back a step and then another, until she was clear of the doorway and the dog’s sight.
“See? She’s gone. You can trust me. I won’t hurt you. Not ever.”
The mutt was in good hands. The best. Jared, who’d always been a sucker for a homeless animal, would help him, treat him and find him a better life.
Hearing Jared reassure the dog left Ava weak-kneed. She leaned against the wall, her chest heaving. He treated his patient exactly the same as he treated her when she’d freaked out.
Was that how he saw her? A wounded animal, too scared to trust the very people who could always be relied upon? Like the dog, did she need coaxing to believe in Jared? Had Anthony damaged her beyond repair?
“Oh, good boy,” Jared crooned. “Good dog. Yep, you can have more. As much as you want.”
As Ava listened, her friend spoke his way into the dog’s heart. In his winning voice, he outlined everything he was doing, reassuring his patient the entire time. Exactly like he’d done with her. Over and over.
The unavoidable truth echoed through her ears. She and the dog were one and the same. Damaged, miserable and incapable of trust.
Her stomach coiled. Nausea built in her throat.
This was not the life she’d imagined leading. She was not the person she’d wanted to be. And that was unacceptable. Anthony may have damaged her, but damn it, she refused to let him destroy her. He’d already taken away a good two years of her life. She wasn’t giving him another day.
Ava bolted.
One second she was leaning against the wall, her legs too weak to walk, the next she was tearing through the waiting room and out the door. She was pretty sure she made it home long before Jared had finished treating the dog.
She charged through the flat, casting only a quick glance around. Liv wasn’t home. She marched into her room and turned on the light. Under its harsh glow, Ava stood before the full-length mirror and studied her reflection.
A stranger stared back at her. Someone with pale, makeup-free skin, haunted eyes and a nose she didn’t recognize. Shapeless clothes hung from her shoulders. The nicest thing she wore was a pair of silver ballet-type flats.
Ava whimpered, appalled.
The reflection bore no resemblance to her, yet the truth was undeniable. She was the washed-out rag in the mirror.
And in that that second, something shifted inside her. Something changed.
Ava was tired of being the victim. She was tired of hiding behind a façade she thought could protect her from all the monsters in the world. She’d had enough of cowering in the corner, hoping life wouldn’t notice her. It was time to be Ava again—the woman she’d once been, not the shell Anthony had turned her into.
It was time to be free.
She tugged at the elastic in her hair, tossing it aside and letting her hair tumble down her back.
No. Not good enough. Grabbing a brush, she stroked it through her hair, over and over, until it shone. Then she rummaged through the drawer of her dressing table, found the bag she sought and opened it.
First came the mascara, which she applied twice to each eye. As she waited for it to dry, she added the tiniest hint of blush. Foundation had never been her thing, and she didn’t waste time with it now. The blush gave her cheeks ample color. She no longer looked as though she might faint from lack of blood.
Eye shadow followed. Not a lot, just enough that
the inconspicuous shine made her eyes look enormous and greener than ever. Then came the lipstick. A shade she hadn’t worn since…since…well, damn it, since her honeymoon. It lit up her skin and made her teeth look whiter.
Satisfied with her face—even though the nose still looked foreign, Ava scowled at the long, baggy shirt in the mirror.
It had to go. Forever. She gripped the blouse on both sides and ripped. Buttons flew across the room and buried themselves in the plush carpet. The shirt landed in the bin, leaving only her skirt and singlet.
The singlet was a low-cut, body-hugging white cotton that showed off her breasts. While it wasn’t overtly revealing, it was a big step away from her recent style, and with nothing covering it, Ava felt…exposed.
She threw back her shoulders and stood up straight, enjoying the cool breeze playing over her bare arms. She was a long way off from being exposed, and if she was honest with herself, the singlet was darn cute. It displayed the girls beautifully.
Now she had to worry about the shapeless bag she’d called a skirt. It landed in a heap above the shirt in the bin. Ava turned to her cupboard, searching for a different skirt.
Top shelf, right at the back. With the help of a dining room chair, she reached it, and miracle of miracles, it still fit. If anything, the stretchy fabric that ended a good few inches above the knee was a little loose, thanks to the MMA.
With her new—or old—clothes on, Ava once again turned to the mirror. And this time, it wasn’t a stranger who looked back at her. This time, she sighed in relief. She recognized the woman.
She was the same person she’d once been, and yet she was different. The nose and the toned muscles were new, the rest looked pretty much like she remembered.
One thing she knew for sure, was now that she’d rediscovered Ava, she’d discovered her freedom. She would never allow herself to become trapped in a stranger’s clothes or mind again. She would never again give anyone enough control to trap her.
From this moment on, the only opportunity Jared would have to use that tone of voice would be with his patients. Not her.
She would never give him reason to ease her fears again.