“There she is,” one of them barks.
“Thought you could run off on Mr. Cooper? Think again.” He glances at me and cracks his knuckles. “Who the fuck are you?”
Oh, if only he knew who he was messing with. I could drop this guy and his pal and not even break a sweat. But I told Ava I wouldn’t, so as hard as it is, I turn away and head for the door.
It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, going back out to my truck and driving home. All I can think about is her and whether she’s safe.
Who is this Mr. Cooper bastard pretending to be her husband?
I’m flooded with jealousy, even though I know she doesn’t love him, I still can’t get the idea out of my head that he might try and have his way with her.
It is their wedding night, after all…
“Stop it!” I shout, slamming my fist against the dash, shattering one of the blowers.
The drive home is like torture, and when I finally get back to my house, all I can do is pace around like a maniac. Clearing my mind is impossible. I’m plagued with terrible thoughts.
Finally, after two hours, I manage to calm down enough that I can lie down on the couch and stare up at the ceiling.
Where are you, sweetheart? Are you okay? Don’t let him touch you…
My phone buzzeson my chest, and my eyes snap open. I glance at the clock and realize I’ve fallen asleep. It’s nearly two in the morning.
Quickly, I check the alert and see a text from an unknown number, and my heart skips a beat.
I open it. There’s no name, but that doesn’t matter. I know instantly who it’s from.
So, about that kidnapping thing…
4
AVA
“Does this look like a penis?”my aunt Sylvia asks me, pointing to the design in the foam of her latte. I stifle a laugh.
“I think it’s supposed to be a mushroom.”
“No, that’s a penis,” she insists. “I know a penis when I see one.”
I point up to the sign: Happy Shrooms Coffee. A little smiling mushroom man holding up a mug. “See? I think it’s in reference to that.”
She looks over, grimaces, then shrugs. “I still think it’s a penis.”
I smile and take a sip, nearly burning my tongue on my coffee. Still too hot.
I love these little meetups with my aunt. She’s the one true friend I have, and the only family member who I can say without a doubt actually cares about me.
She may be my mom’s sister, but you’d never know by looking. Mom’s living her dream—spending Dad’s money and ignoring her only child. While Sylvia runs her own small farm and has three kids of her own that she adores.
“So how’smarriedlife?” she asks, giving me the eye.
I groan. “Oh, you mean with my wonderful husband who loves and cares for me?”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she says, taking my hand. “Do you want me to kill him for you? I have a nice new pickaxe—”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, if you ever went to jail, I don’t know what I’d do.”
And that’s the truth. Sylvia is the only person I’ve ever had to rely on. To Dad, I’m just a negotiation tool. And to Mom, I don’t even exist. Just nine months of misery, that’s how she described being pregnant with me.
