I head for the exit, and Owen sidelines me, knocking me into a table, and before I know it, a choir of screams erupts around us. I knew he was gunning for a fight tonight, but in all honesty, I was sort of hoping I’d get one. Owen is strong, most likely bloated out on roids, but my anger, my need for vengeance, lands him on his back and sends my knee in his groin, my fist in his jaw. Another set of arms plucks me off, and I spot Jet helping Owen up. I glance back to find Bryson walking me briskly out the door. Before I can say anything, Jet and Owen tumble out beside me.
“You don’t do that shit in my bar,” Bryson riots at the two of them before looking to me. “Are you okay?”
Something about the way he paused to ask me first makes me feel a touch of solidarity with him. Steph loved him. Not sure if he cares, but it’s true.
“Yeah, I’m all right.” I pat my pockets for my phone and wallet, and they’re both present and accounted for. “I’m taking off. Don’t worry. You won’t have any more problems with me.”
“Grant, wait.” Owen catches up, still nursing his aching balls. “Fuck,” he barks as he tries to shake off the pain. “You’re not done. Go back and talk to her. She’s hurting. This is killing her.”
“I’m hurting!” I roar in his face. “We’re all hurting because of your fucked-up family.” I take off across the street, and Bryson appears by my side.
“What the hell is this about? Did you hurt his sister?”
I stop short and look at this Ken doll lookalike, with his cut features, his deep-set eyes that are shadowed in this dull light. This is what my sister wanted. What she inadvertently died for. A man. A boy at the time. This, right here, is what Aubree Vincent chose to rot in a prison over. But then again, people rarely choose to rot in a cell. Aubree wanted to get away with my sister’s death—falsely mourn her—and have a life with this man in his ridiculous bar.
“Yes, I hurt his sister.” I nod, taking the blame fully, making myself out to sound like some insane maniac. “I didn’t realize who she was at the time. But now that I do, I’ve ended it. Sometimes in life there’s just too much baggage to deal with.” I stalk off into the night to the sounds of Ava questioning Owen, her voice rising hysterically into the sky.
I head to Beta house, lock the door to my room, pull the pillow over my head, and try to forget about life in general.
Left in Tatters
Ava
All my lifeI’ve been living in the shadow of my siblings, only known as Owen or Aubree’s little sister—with Owen as the cute boy, and Aubree as the killer. For once I thought I had escaped those labels, escaped the shadow of their thorny wings, but here, on this night, I have become Owen and Aubree’s little sister once again in the most painful manner possible. It all makes sense why Grant hated the Black Bear. He knew Owen—and Owen practically lives there. Grant knew enough, but he didn’t have the last piece to the Vincent puzzle. He simply didn’t know enough to hate me—at least not prior to this week. However, at the moment, Grant knows plenty, perhaps too much, but most important, he knows enough to never want to see me again.
I push Owen hard in the chest as Piper tries to stop me. “How long have you known about him?”
Owen ticks his head back an inch before shooting a brief glance to his girlfriend. “I met him when school started. It never occurred to me your paths would cross.” He wipes down an eye with the palm of his hand. “Crap, Ava, of all the damn guys at school, you had to find that one.”
“Oh, so this is my fault?” I shout, incredulous.
Piper pulls me back a few steps in the event I feel the need to follow in Grant’s footsteps and ensure my brother never makes me an aunt. “He didn’t mean it like that,” she whispers, still pulling me in the direction of their apartment.
As soon as Jet told my brother that I was bawling my eyes out nonstop, they cut their trip short and hightailed it back to Hollow Brook. I felt like shit at the time, but now, after everything that’s just transpired, I’m pretty glad Owen is back—Piper, too.
“Ava”—Owen staggers toward me and wraps an arm around my shoulders as we walk in the direction of the Briggs Apartment Building—“I’m so sorry. I never thought for a minute the two of you would meet, let alone—”
“Nothing happened.” It’s not entirely true. Everything had technically happened. My life was at its pinnacle in that thimble of a moment Grant and I shared.
Tears come, and I don’t fight them.
My phone buzzes with texts from both Lucky and Harper wanting to know what’s going on. Good news travels fast. It always does.
“Look, I want to head back to my dorm. I don’t think I can handle much more tonight.” I head in the opposite direction, and they follow.
“I’m here for you, Ava.” Owen’s voice pitches as if he might cry himself—hell, maybe he’s already bawling. I don’t have the balls to look. “I know we haven’t been as close as we should, but I love you.” He steps in front of me just as we enter campus and blocks my path. “Don’t shut me out, Ava. Please.” There’s an undeniable ache in his voice. That final plea was embedded in his soul. I could feel it. Owen wraps his arms around me, and I lose it. I sob over my brother’s shoulder, right here on campus for all to see—my brother, who I actively dodged all semester just so I could find myself, and ironically here I am content to be his sister all over again.
“It hurts so bad.” The words tremble from me in jags. My heart has splintered into shards, unable to recover. “Why of all the people on the planet did it have to be him?” I bury a sharp cry in his chest. “Why did she do it? Why did Aubree unleash her wickedness and tear all of our worlds to pieces?”
“She’s sick,” he whispers, dotting a kiss to my cheek.
“She’s selfish!” I counter as I pull back with rage. “Aubree is a selfish little bitch. She always was one, and now Grant’s sister is dead and nothing will ever be right again.”
“Ava.” Piper tries to pull me off my brother, but I flinch out of her grasp.
“What if she’s not sick—she’s just evil? You ever think of that?” I pound my fists against his chest. “What if you and I are evil, too? We’re cut from the same cloth, Owen. You and I are time bombs just waiting to go off!” That may not be the chief reason Grant wants nothing to do with me, but it sure as hell has to have crossed his mind.
“No.” Owen thunders it so loud my eardrums pierce with pain. “Come here.” He wraps his arms around me tight once again. I can hardly breathe, hardly feel the icy air, hardly feel anything anymore, and for once I’m glad about it.
