Keeping Ava

by Elena M. Reyes

  On the way there, I make a quick pit stop inside his kitchen and grab a can of Coke. I haven’t had dinner, and eating something right now isn’t going to happen with my nerves shot, so drinking something with sugar is the next best thing.

  And it’s while I’m in the kitchen that the house phone rings.

  My first thought is that it has to be Elijah, and I rush to grab the cordless device from its place inside his office. The room is dark, and I pause near the entrance. That’s not how I left it.

  Before taking a shower, I made sure that every room had one light on.

  “What the fuck?” I whisper, heart racing as I reach for the small switch on the wall to my left. Finding it isn’t an issue, and within seconds I flip it. Nothing happens, though, and I do it again. Off and on. Off and on. “Lightbulb must’ve gone out.”

  It’s the only plausible explanation, and I step further inside to reach the still-ringing phone. I’m just a few steps away when it stops, only to start again within seconds.

  Grabbing it off the corner of his desk, I hit the talk button. “Hello?”

  “Ava.” Elijah’s voice comes through the line like a soothing balm. At once, my body calms and my breathing begins to settle. Just hearing him—knowing he’s okay—gives me back the calm he took with him when he walked out the door. “You okay, sweetheart?”

  “I’m...I’ve—”

  “Everything is okay.” Christ, how I needed to hear those words. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be back a bit later than anticipated, but it’ll be tonight. Don’t wait for me to eat.”

  “And you promise all is good?” Taking the phone with me, I walk out of the dark room and head straight for the couch in the living room. The early evening sky is gorgeous this time of day and I sit, looking out as we talk. “No reason for me to worry?”

  What I really want to ask is if they have Jason. If my nightmare is over.

  “None. I swear.” There are a few voices coming closer and then a few doors close, like that of a car. My suspicions are confirmed when the engine of a loud car starts and then a siren. “I’ll call you as soon as we get back. Stay inside and wait for me,” he yells out, and I nod as if he could see me. “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes. I’ll stay in…just come back safe.”

  “I’ll always come back.” That’s the last thing he says before the click signaling the end of our call follows.

  His words give me reassurance, and I listen. Truly let them settle into my heart and mind as I grab the remote and turn the TV on, flipping through a few channels until I find one of my favorite shows playing a marathon. Dr. Pol is the bomb and I let his amazingness take me away—distract me with the cuteness of the state fair and the kiddos with their pets.

  I make it through four episodes before my eyes become heavy. Each tick of the clock is a struggle to stay awake, and as the intro to another episode begins, I give in.

  Sleep takes me, but it’s restless. Uncomfortable.

  I’m dreaming, floating through an abyss of nothing as a giant screen in front of me plays out a movie reel of that night. I can hear his laugh. His promise to come back for me.

  No one will save you. You’re mine, Ava. Always have been.

  There’s a sensation over my right arm. I can’t quite make out what it is, but it feels wrong. Makes my stomach turn as the invisible grip tightens. It’s painful and I whimper out, tears running down my cheek as the helplessness settles in. Even in my dreams I can’t escape him.

  Feels so real. Even his breath on my skin is the same—produces the same taste of bile in the back of my throat.

  You’ll pay for your betrayal, pet. Bathing in his blood will be your penance.

  Images flip through my subconscious, each more grotesque than the last, and as one of a dead Elijah takes the forefront, I awake, sweaty, panting, aware that something isn’t right.

  Throwing my legs over the side of the couch, I begin to stand. “It’s just a dream,” I say, my voice low and shaky. My eyes shift over to the sliding glass doors, and I take in just how dark it is already. I must’ve been asleep for a while.

  Still, there is an unsettling feeling that runs down my spine, and I shiver. And it’s in my mild panic that I notice that lights that were on are now off. Nothing except for the television remains on, and I need to remind myself all over again of Elijah’s words.

  “I’m safe here.”

  “Are you?” As the last word slips past his lips, the small lamp beside him flips on, illuminating his rough features. He’s angry. A bit dirty. He’s holding a large blade in his hands that he flips between his fingers without a care, not paying a lick of attention to the blood coating his skin that appears to have a dozen tiny cuts. “Who’s going to protect you, sweetheart? That pussy detective?”

  “How did...?” The words get stuck in my throat. Fear—fight or flight—sits heavy on my chest, and I take a step back. Thinking...begging silently for a way out.

  All I need is a chance.

  “You shouldn’t wander the halls alone, love. Not even to throw away the garbage,” he drawled, eyes hungrily wandering over my exposed skin. “Never know who’s lurking.”

  “That’s a lie. The corridor was—”

  “My naive little Ava...” he tsks, thumbs running across the steel edge of the knife “...so lost in your emotions that you never looked toward the small alcove on your left. Not even a flicker of awareness as you blindly gave yourself an adorable, yet useless pep talk, and then put the garbage inside the chute.”

  “Christ.” Another step back that he mimics with one forward. “You’ve been here this entire time? The lights—”

  “Me. I’ve enjoyed watching you again after all this time.”

  “Again?” I ask, just as his head turns toward the balcony and the night’s sky. Either he doesn’t care or is extremely sure of himself, because he doesn’t so much as move a muscle as I rush toward the room’s entrance.

  “Are you looking to play a game?” That question makes me pause as I place my foot in the hallway, mind working quickly. “Perhaps hide-and-seek?”

  “Answer the question, Jason.” I see my room door is closed and so is the office and curse my idiocy. Head for Elijah’s room. His closet has a gun and emergency phone.

  It’s a somewhat safe room; the door is heavy, thick, and in reinforced steel, as is the surrounding structure. Elijah told me bullets wouldn’t get through, and that if the worst came to be, to make it inside and hide near the far back so I’d be out of the line of fire.

  It should hold him back long enough for me to call for help. All I need to do is make it to the other side before...

  “You first.” Two large hands wrap around my waist, and I freeze. They pull me against a hard body, and there’s no mistaking his hard cock as it presses against my ass. There’s a second or two of shock and disgust and so much sudden adrenaline that I begin to shake uncontrollably.

  My vision becomes hazy, and all I see around me is that woman inside his house. Her body. Her eyes as they lock with mine.

  Blood. Red. It’s everywhere.

  A loud wail rents the air then, and it’s full of this haunting terror that hurts my head.

  “Just like that, Miss Ava. Scream for me.” His breath is hot against my neck, and it’s enough to silence the scream. To silence me. “Awww, baby. Don’t stop. I rather enjoy you like this.”

  “Please.” It’s all I manage to get past the lump in my throat.

  “Please what?” Jason’s taunting me. Rubbing himself against me. “Tell me. Use your words.”

  Swallowing hard, I take a second to focus. To breathe in and out. “Leave, and don’t come back.”

  “When I leave, it’ll be with you.” Lips come down on my cheek, his tongue following the path down to my jaw, licking the few tears that have escaped. There’s a deep groan that comes from the back of his throat a second before his hands tighten—fingers digging into my hips in a painful way. “After I kill the cock-suck
ing pig that thought to touch what’s mine.”

  “What are you—”

  “You really think I didn’t have eyes on you? The way he held you on that pier is—”

  “Stay away from him.”

  “Make me.” Those words awaken something in me. There’s a sudden shift that I can’t even begin to comprehend, and I don’t attempt to. Instead, I let instincts take over and I throw my head back with all my might. Screw the pain; I will fight back. Just the thought—his threatening words against Eli—seem to spark a sense of awareness inside of me that helps me push through the sudden pain of my skull connecting with his jaw. “Fuck!” he yells out, and his hold lessens just enough for me to use the momentum and stomp on his foot.

  Once. Twice.

  Hard. With all my weight. My goal is to break his toe if possible.

  “No, asshole. Fuck you!” I throw my elbow back, landing somewhere between his neck and face. It does the job and I’m pushed away, a natural reaction from him, and I run. Take off toward Elijah’s bedroom at full speed, and I almost make it inside when I’m grabbed once again.

  This time it’s by my hair. Jason pulls hard enough to force a scream from my throat, a sound that makes him laugh.

  Roughly, I’m turned around and shoved against the closed bedroom door. My only escape is so close.

  “Since when do you have a fighting spirit, pet? It’s cute.” His body crowds mine. His face tips down toward me. “Answer the question.” I don’t say a word, just bite down hard on my bottom lip to hold in my whimpers—to not give in and gift him what he wants. My pain. My misery. My fear. “I’ll make you motherfucking talk. Don’t push me this soon.”

  Another warning I ignore. His hold on my hair tightens, and I can taste the blood from how hard I embed my teeth.

  For some reason, his anger toward me turns into a sinister laugh a second later. His hold doesn’t ease, but his eyes close and his body moves back an inch or two. Just enough space. Just enough of an opening for me to bring my knee up.

  This hit is different. Hurts him where all men are sensitive.

  Jason drops before me like dead weight, almost bringing me down with him, and when he doesn’t release my hair, I reach out with my hand and punch him straight between his legs. His scream makes me smile, and it’s also the opening I need.

  Two inhales later and I’m inside Elijah’s room, slamming the door closed and turning the lock. For a few seconds, there’s no noise. No movement. Yet, I don’t wait for the inevitable.

  Eli’s closet is just across the room, and I dart toward it without conscious thought. The door is heavy and it’s hard to push closed, but I manage right before Jason crashes through the bedroom one.

  It splinters and debris flies everywhere, but I’m already safely inside. I walk the short way toward the back where Elijah keeps a burner phone and Glock for me, and have the drawer halfway open when the first hit to the entrance comes.

  It’s loud and I scream, almost dropping the phone in my hand. With shaky fingers I tighten my grip and then hit the power button on the side.

  A low chime comes from the device before Jason delivers another blow. “Open the fucking door, Ava. Don’t force me to hurt you.”

  I don’t reply. My focus is on the device in my hands. On pressing the number 1 and bringing it to my ear.

  It rings. Once. Twice. And then heavy breathing follows...

  “Baby?” A bullet hits the door, then another, and I fight back the scream that wants to break through. My body’s shaking, and I feel as though this is our goodbye. “Ava, what’s happening? I’m on my way back...it was all a—”

  “He’s here’s, Eli. He found me.”

  Chapter 15

  Elijah

  Earlier Today...

  I hate to leave her like this, so soon after making her mine.

  However, it’s not something that can be avoided. Not when I have it right within my reach to end this. Him. Everything.

  Walking out of the building, I catch sight of a patrol car with two officers inside and make my way toward them. They’re rookies; two guys I’ve seen in passing and don’t give two flying fucks about.

  However, the woman upstairs, she’s everything to me. More so than my job. More so than my life.

  The one behind the wheel sees me coming and taps the other on the shoulder. Both sets of eyes are on me. Sizing me up. Fucking idiots. Once I’m close, they roll their windows down. “Is there something we can do for you, Detec—”

  “Anything happens to her, and it’s me you’ll have to worry about.”

  The cop on the passenger side bristles, his body tensing. “Is that a threat?”

  “No.” Both relax and even let out a small chuckle. “It’s a motherfucking promise.”

  The laughter ceases, and it’s the driver, Officer McGrady, that addresses me, his eyes narrowing. “Captain Perez will hear about—”

  “I’ll tell him myself. Word for word,” I snap, slamming my hand on the top of the car. Eyeing the squad car’s numbers, I catalogue them for later tracking. I’m friends with many in my precinct, and having this one monitored won’t be hard. “All that matters is that she’s safe. No one goes in. Understood?”

  “Understood,” Stein says, holding a hand up in a show of peace. “We know how important this is, Ford...that everyone’s on edge with the possibility of catching the son of a bitch.”

  “Then we won’t have any problems.” I give them a nod. “Just keep her safe.”

  We’ve been driving for a little over two and a half hours now, and our destination is close. Adrenaline should be pumping through my system, my body thrumming with energy, and thus far I have nothing.

  No bouncing of my leg.

  No clenching of hands.

  No itch to run out of the car and snap his neck.

  From our report, we’re so close to the asshole, and yet, ever since leaving my building, something’s off. I have doubts. Jason’s in Yuma, Arizona, spotted and identified with a woman who’s physically similar to Karla, but my gut says they’re wrong.

  To go back.

  Yet, if there’s the smallest possibility to catch him and save her, I can’t walk away. To serve and protect was my oath, and she—they both deserve that I see this through. We have to get to her before—

  “Everything all right with Ava?” Perez asks from beside me as he turns our headlights off and pulls into a desolate parking lot. The area has poor lighting and a few abandoned warehouses attached; it once belonged to an old mattress company that manufactured and distributed on site.

  Hell, even the old company trucks are still here.

  “She’s fine.”

  “Why the secrecy?” Instead of answering him this time, I open my door and exit the car as do the officers in the other three squad cars with us: two from Arizona and one from San Diego. They want this scumbag off the streets. He’s been watching me closely since we met up at his office. Gauging my mood. “Ford, if something is wrong—”

  “I just called her to check in.” I don’t look at him as I walk to the back, pop the trunk, and put my bulletproof vest on. After we catch the jerk-off, I’ll tell him and accept whatever disciplinary action the department gives, but not before. I’m not being pulled from this case. “She’s worried, but okay.”

  “That’s all?”

  “That’s all that matters.” From our viewpoint, I see a few windows and an open door near the right side. There’s a light coming from within; it’s bright, and if I pay close enough attention, I can hear music. Old school rap. What the fuck? “Something is off, sir.”

  “We have to make sure.” I can hear the doubt in his tone, but I still agree that we should. The captain looks around at those with us, his face serious. “You all have your orders. Get in and save the girl. Keep her safe, but him, dead or alive makes no difference to me. This ends here.”

  Everyone nods, and the men fall into line behind me while Perez stays outside with another member of our team. Their jo
b is to watch the door and shoot, if necessary, anyone that runs from the building not wearing a blue uniform.

  I give the command to follow as I walk across the lot slowly, watching where we step so as to not alert them of our arrival. The closer we get, the louder the music becomes, and I hear two voices, both male, laughing about something.

  Holding a finger up, I point toward the right and two officers rush to the other side of the building, blocking any exit attempt. Once in place, I take my position and on the count of three, barge in, guns drawn.

  “Police! Down on the ground!” I yell out as the men behind me follow suit. There’s a woman’s scream from somewhere in the back and then the sound of a shots being fired, then another as a body crashes through a door.

  My instincts kick in, and a red haze overtakes my senses. I’m on autopilot as I press the trigger—firing twice into the chest of a man raising his own gun toward me. He falls to the ground with a bullet hole in his neck, choking on his own blood as the life drains from his open eyes.

  He’s unfamiliar to me, but the man just behind him isn’t.

  Anthony Salcedo. Ava’s childhood neighbor. Her best friend’s ex-boyfriend.

  There’s anger in his eyes as they meet mine and he fires a shot, nearly hitting me in the arm. The bullet grazes my skin with no entry wound, and it lodges itself into a wall behind me. There are voices, loud and angry, yelling for him to drop his weapon, but he doesn’t move.

  His attention is solely on me, the barrel of his gun pointed at my chest. “You killed my brother, puto. I’m going to make sure that you never see her again.”

  “Where is he?” That adrenaline I’ve been missing hits me with the full force of a battering ram, and I stretch my neck to the side. I need answers. He won’t walk out of here alive, we both know that, but before he dies, he’ll give me what I want.