Make Me Stay: A Second Chance Romance

by Amarie Avant

  Biting his lip, Donavan leaned against the doorframe as Carly sneered at him while walking out.

  “You ruined my friendship with AC, too. Now, I’m going to sleep.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing heavily, before taking a few steps into the room. His father was propped up in the middle of the bed. Jimmy Kimmel was muted on the television. There was no pain on his father’s face, though paled by lack of sun. Greg was skinnier than he’d been when Donavan was a child, but tonight he wasn’t frail or distraught. He had a twinkle in his eyes, the same one he had when the social worker arrived with Donavan.

  “Hey, Dad,” Donavan looked him over with almost a smile on his face. He was happy to see his dad doing well.

  “Donnie, my son, we have to get the plans together. Your mom would make her German chocolate cake, but she’s not here, so I need you to help me.”

  “Dad, it’s past midnight.” Donavan held up a steady hand. Wait, did he just mention Mom without crying, cussing, or sounding like a country sob song? “We can talk about this tomorrow. I’ll come bring you lunch.”

  “No, son. Not tomorrow because you have to get the ingredients, come home, cook the cake. Then tomorrow at noon, we pick up Avery and little Donavan and go to—Oh!” Greg stopped ranting. “I was thinking the park on Egerton Street,” he mentioned the upgraded park inside of their community. “No, we have to go all out for Donnie’s first time at the park. We’ll take him to the one,” he snapped his fingers, “the one with the ducks. Ohhhhh, go find my fishing pole, son.”

  A flood of tears burned Donavan’s eyes. With stiff legs, he grabbed the accent chair with light pink paisleys on it, turned it around and sat backward. Rubbing his hand over his mouth, Donavan thought about the right words to say. Greg had just mentioned his wife without a shred of depression. Now, it appeared he wanted Donavan to go shopping for something as unnecessary as cake ingredients.

  How do I say that my son didn’t survive birth? Never had a chance!

  Pressing the away button on the side of his iPhone that was vibrating in his pocket, Donavan listened to his father drone on about the perfect picnic and how Mom was looking down on them from heaven.

  “Son,” Greg’s tone went from excitement to concern. “What’s wrong with you? You never cry. Even the one time the social worker threatened to move you for acting out here. You never cried.”

  “Dad,” Donavan said, meeting his gaze. He rubbed the tears from his eyes. “My . . . son. . . is . . . dead.”

  Greg huffed. “No, no, no. Hush yourself with that foolishness! Little Donnie isn’t dead. He’s alive! Jesus woke me up about an hour ago and told me that we’d all go for a picnic and . . . and that your mother is happy, smiling down from heaven making sure we’re all safe. Jesus said to tell you to go straight to Avery when you leave tonight.”

  “Alright, Dad,” Donavan rose from his chair. He knew exactly what he had to do. Well, after finishing the assignment for Palmer. He’d take his father to his son’s final resting place. Donavan had no desire to go after Avery told him the story, but for his dad’s sake, he would.

  “Go home to Avery, son. I was told that if you don’t go check on Avery . . .”

  Contemplating seeing his son in a mausoleum, Donavan tuned out his father. He reached over his dad, patted his shoulder and kissed the old guy on the forehead.

  As he headed out of the room, Carly leaned against the wall next to her bedroom. She gulped, voice constricted, and finally murmured, “Alzheimer?”

  “I reckon that’s what it is.” Donavan nodded slowly. He pulled his cell phone out. “I need to check on AC.”

  “Alright, well, I’m so used to getting up in the middle of the night. It’s cold in this house. Dad argued about leaving the heater on because it made Josh have nosebleeds, though the coolness makes Dad cough something awful . . .” She stopped speaking. “Donavan, what’s wrong?”

  “AC. She just left me a voicemail. Her fucking ex-boyfriend—he hit her, sounded like he hit her. I’m gonna kill that bastard.”

  “What?” She called after him, but he was already taking the stairs two at a time and jumped over the second landing. “Who?”

  “Salvador Esparza, Carly, I’m gonna kill that motherfucker.” Donavan wasn’t gonna let him get away with this—the man had touched Avery.

  “Salvador!” Carly screeched, moving down the stairs as fast as she could.

  At the door, Donavan stopped. There was a fear in her shouting that forced him to slow down. “You know him?”

  “Yes! My coworker, Gina. She’s been out of work sick for a while. She just came back with wires in her jaw, said she called the cops on her ex, but nobody believed her. Donavan, I’m calling the—”

  “No, don’t call. Because I don’t need no fucking cops getting there before I do!”

  ~~~

  On the drive over, Donavan reconsidered his statement. He’d heard Salvador slapping Avery during her voicemail, begging him to come home.

  Salvador wouldn’t kill her, would he? And if he did, Donavan didn’t need the cops stopping him from murdering Salvador himself. Vigilante justice would end with Salvador dead.

  He dialed her parent’s house phone. “Hello,” Verdrena answered with a sleepy mumble.

  “Verdie, it’s Donavan. Put your husband on the phone.”

  “Donnie? Honey, what’s going on?”

  “Salvador hit Avery.”

  “Salvador hit my baby!”

  There was background interference and then, “Hello,” Alexander’s powerful voice boomed. “What’s this about Esparza touching my daughter?”

  “I received a message from Avery. I don’t have time to waste, Mr. Castle. Check the guesthouse. I’m going to Baudelaire. Something tells me she might’ve gone there,” he bit his lip then added, “send the cops to Salvador’s; she might be there.”

  “I’m on it.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Avery

  “It was you, wasn’t it? With the tea?” Her body trembled as Salvador planted himself on top of her. It felt like she was trapped under a marble slab. He held his weight against her, crushing her. With her arms pressed down at her sides, there was no means for self-defense. No escape would come. And unlike the last time she called Donavan while falling through the ceiling—he wouldn’t come. Maybe her father and Salvador were working together. But that didn’t make sense. Her dad would never like any man she loved; she knew that now.

  “Yup, mi amor. It was cinnamon. You are a bit paranoid, don’t you think?”

  “Salvador,” she moaned, attempting to play nice for some sort of leverage. “You love me, don’t you?”

  “Yes. In fact, Avery, I love you more than that hijo de puta.” In anger, his words sprayed her with spit. “And I need you to remember what we have.” His hand roamed over her hip, gripping wildly at her left breast.

  “We . . . had . . . have a good thing, don’t we?” She gulped down bile while grinning and bearing it.

  His mouth descended on hers. As his tongue danced around hers, Avery’s eyes shut tightly. A dam of tears was ready to break through. Salvador came up for air, and she panted along with him. Her legs started to feel desensitized due to his weight.

  “You mended my broken heart,” Avery said. She didn’t know how convincing she sounded, especially crying rivers. She needed to get her arms free, to give herself half a fighting chance. “Can I touch you, Salvador. Remember when I’d caress your cheek?”

  He licked the tears off her face. “I love it when you cry, Avery. It’s a beautiful sight.”

  “Because you wipe the tears away when I cry. You make me feel better.’ She began to sob.

  Salvador didn’t seem to notice as he nodded in agreement. The bastard was a sociopath. So as long as she mentioned how he helped her, Avery had more time.

  But time to do what?

  She was no match for Salvador.

  He was taller and stronger.

  His line of work offered anoth
er setback for her because he had to stay on the defense each day at work. Her background made her good with her fingers, but she’d need a piano to outdo him in any challenge.

  When his hand began to trail back down from her breast and to her nether regions, Avery struck without so much as thinking first. She slammed her forehead against his nose.

  “Mierda—Shit!” Salvador rolled off her, gripping his nose as a long stream of blood gushed from between his fingers.

  Avery rolled to the opposite side of her cot and scrambled to her hands and knees. As she started to rise, Salvador reached over and yanked at her ankle. She fell awkwardly. Her chin slammed down onto the hardwood floor. Her teeth snapped shut onto the tip of her tongue. She whimpered in pain as Salvador clamored back on to her body. This time, he tore the shoulders of her bodysuit, pulling at her bra, until her breasts were exposed. His hand pawed wildly at her body. He reached down, sucking her nipple into his mouth, grating the tiny bulb past the tip of his teeth.

  “Ahhhh!” The pain hurt so bad that she could hardly say a word.

  “You think that we are over because some piece of shit comes crashing into your life!”

  “Stop, stop,” She whimpered as he pressed his knees between her thighs, pushing her legs open. He tore the material of her wrap pantsuit all the way down to her hips. “Please, Salvador. I’m s-saying no.” Her tone trembled at the notion of being raped by him.

  “Your body is saying yes, Avery.” He kissed her mouth again. “When I fuck you, you’ll remember just what we have, mi amor.”

  “No! I’m Avery Castle, Salvador, Avery Castle.” She declared each word, needing to summon a shred of humanity. There was a theory about saying your name to a rapist, but did that qualify for someone who wasn’t a stranger? She cried the words. “I’m Avery . . .”

  He leaned up and started to unbuckle his belt. Avery’s arm spun around, and she shoved her elbow into his neck, hitting him as hard as she could.

  The back of his hand tore like fire across her cheek.

  His eyes darkened demonically, and he shouted, “You keep at it, and I’ll screw you dead!”

  At this point, Avery knew she was going to die. But she refused to leave this earth without taking as much of his DNA on her as possible. Her fingers tore into Salvador’s cheek, and her other hand snatched at his hair. His hands engulfed her entire neck, squeezing it until the world no longer mattered. He squeezed so hard; she became blind.

  Why fight?

  My son is dead.

  I couldn’t convince Donavan to stay. I couldn’t make him stay!

  She was beginning to see the light, and a peace she hadn’t seen in years beckoned her to leave this world.

  Avery was seven years old again. It was three days after the boy had pushed her down and went running from school, when her second-grade teacher, Ms. Poppins stood at the front of the class with him at her side. He was beautiful. His golden color was probably from all the ditching and sitting in the sun. Whatever it was he did when not in school, the sun must’ve loved following him. His hazel eyes were the same color of his perfectly tanned skin. His curly sandy-blond waves made Avery sigh.

  Ms. Poppins, dressed in a red-and-white polka-dot tea-length dress, placed her hand on his shoulder, saying, “Friends, we have a new student today.”

  The teacher reminded Avery of Miss. Frizzle on The Magic School Bus. She felt herself getting jealous as Ms. Poppins smiled down at Donavan. “We expected you at the beginning of the week, Donavan, but we’re more than grateful to have you now. Please tell the class a little about yourself.”

  “I don’t want to be here.” His thick beautiful lips barely moved.

  Ms. Poppins clapped her hands together with a wide grin. “Well, we will just have to figure out a few ways to make you stay, won’t we? Perhaps you are a fan of numbers? Or everyone loves when we all dress like characters from a Dr. Seuss—”

  “Who?” He gazed at her listlessly, before walking down the row of seats.

  Then he stopped right in front of Avery’s table. And when he stared at her, his eyes warmed over, offering an apology for what he had done. At that moment, she felt that maybe she could be the reason he stayed.

  Her abdominals tightened as Avery shot up into a seated position, sucking in air. She wanted to cry and return to the past.

  She had to have died. Next, she had expected that she’d run into the arms of her son, but what she saw shook her to the core.

  Donavan.

  His gaze burned with anger as Salvador now fell to her side. Like a football player scrambling with the ball, she hastened out of the way as Donavan took to one knee, grabbing Salvador by the throat with one hand. His other was as stiff as a brick as it pounded away at the man’s face.

  “Stop!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, holding the top of her pantsuit in front of her chest.

  Salvador thrust out his leg, kneeing Donavan in the gut. The love of her life’s veins constricted in his throat as he coughed up blood. This gave Salvador time to scurry to his feet.

  As she begged them to stop, the men went back and forth throwing punches. The way they were getting down, Avery couldn’t see the fight finishing until someone gave up the ghost. They traded punches back and forth until Donavan’s powerful leg kicked out, slamming into Salvador’s chest.

  The detective fell backward. Donavan went in for the takedown. Now, Donavan’s forearm slammed down at Salvador’s neck. Salvador’s face began to redden, and his cheeks puffed out. He attempted to catch a breath.

  “Stop, Donnie.” Avery placed her hand on his shoulder. “You can’t kill him. He’s a cop.”

  Donavan held steady. His powerful biceps were like hundred-pound weights as he strained. Donavan continued to choke Salvador. Gazing up, Donavan’s eyes met Avery’s. “You’re bleeding. He hurt you.”

  “No. It’s his blood.” She pushed her hair from her face, endeavoring desperately to show him that she wasn’t really hurt. Truthfully, she had a bad headache and it felt like a few chunks of her hair was missing. “Donavan, if you kill him, you’ll go to jail. No matter how much I want you here by my side, you’ll go to jail.” She squeezed at his arm, yanking as hard as she could. Donavan didn’t let go.

  “I thought you left me” she murmured.

  With a huff, Donavan let Salvador’s chest go. “Why? I’d never.”

  “I got a text from you. You said we were better off apart.”

  He sunk down and signed. “Damn. I thought I was making the text for your old cell phone number. I wasn’t gonna send it. I guess you didn’t get my text about staying with your parents.”

  She shook her head no. Donavan rubbed his hand over the blood on his face. He had a gash over his eyebrow that kept leaking. Avery held out a hand; he took it though he didn’t need help up.

  “Girl, I told you I’d never leave.” Donavan’s hand went to the back of her neck, and he pulled her into a hug. Though she couldn’t see him speaking, he breathed into her neck, declaring “You’d have to fight to push me away, and I still won’t leave.”

  Donavan was about to kiss her when Salvador started to sit up. He spat out blood and growled, “I’ll kill the bitch before I let her—”

  Donavan’s foot slammed into his mouth. The thrust sent Salvador’s neck cracking sideways. There was no coming back from that.

  Avery cried into his arms. “Oh my god, Donnie.”

  CHAPTER 39

  Donavan

  Don’t get angry. Avery had to know that he’d tried his best. When Donavan arrived at the Baudelaire estate, Salvador was yanking his pants down ready to do things that sent Donavan’s veins on fire with rage.

  Now, she was in his arms, sobbing. His chest was wet from them. He fisted a handful of her hair and kissed her forehead. The scent of Salvador on her skin made him want to reach over and slam his boot into the man’s head again, but his neck was twisted just so.

  “Let’s just go,” she said. “You and me. We can go somewhere.�
�

  He tipped her chin. “AC, you have a promise to keep to Franny.”

  She was frantic, saying, “You made the same promise, Donnie. So, we have to—”

  “And you’ll keep it for the both of us. Avery this entire time, you kept the promise when I wasn’t doing shit for anyone or myself.”

  She burrowed her face into his chest again refusing to continue the conversation. If she didn’t see his lips or watch him sign, then she could commandeer the discussion. Her mouth was muffled by his chest, but she commanded, “We’ll go, we will go . . . Mexico. Canada. I don’t care. If you aren’t with me, I’ll die.”

  He pulled her to arm’s length and placed a finger to his mouth. “Shhh.”

  “Someone’s here?” Avery whispered. She started to crouch down and grab Salvador’s feet. “Help me.” She mouthed.

  “Avery, it’s no use. I told your father to send the cops to Salvador’s house. With the police aware of him touching you, that would automatically lead back to me. We can’t get rid of the body. If anything,” he glanced over, “it’s self-defense.”

  She scoffed. “You don’t believe that.”

  He signed. “No. I might’ve done a little more than necessary. But hey, we just need the judge to believe—”

  “That you killed a man in self-defense?” She laughed, ready to do anything to have Donavan there at her side.

  They both looked over. Alexander stood at the door, glaring at the entire scene. Salvador’s crooked neck. Donavan’s tousled hair and bruised face. His daughter . . . His eye twitched.

  Donavan took the white tee shirt from his back and handed it to Avery. She quickly shoved it over her head while saying, “Dad, I apologize about earlier, but we need your help now.”

  He entered the room and gave her a stiff hug.

  “Dad, we need you.”

  “I can’t help you. Not even my best associates would believe this mess was self-defense, Avery—”

  She started to speak; her father held up a hand.