Having Avion spend the rest of the night obviously disappointed after Lorie left made having to uproot her the next day that much worse.
Not long after the attempted raid, Lorie started to have a full-blown panic attack and had to leave before it got any worse. Though neither Avion nor Tamryn would tell me exactly what conversation had transpired, it didn’t take a genius to guess that Lorie may have alluded to having a problem with Avion staying with me. We hadn’t defined our relationship--hadn’t even made any attempts to do so--but it was just sort of unspoken between everyone around that we were… a package deal. This was the first time that Avion’s life was being negatively affected by that assumption and it made me sad.
What else would she have to give up if she chose to stay near me? Would losing her best friend be too hefty a price to pay?
Along with the slurry of new feelings that Avion gave me, was the constant fear of her leaving. I knew that I had a responsibility to tell her she wasn’t a prisoner anymore and to do whatever it took to make her feel more comfortable with me. I even considered asking her about her apartment. I contacted her landlord and paid her outstanding rent, along with several months in advance to protect her things.
“What if we just gave up the lease? We could move your stuff to the new house?”
Could I honestly ask her something like that at this point? If I did, would she agree?
Not only did the raid-gone-wrong resurface a bunch of emotions about our moving target of a relationship, but it also showed me that the hospital wasn’t a safe place for her anymore. Merrick had a couple of hospitals under his employ that were much safer and secure, but Avion was pretty much just healing at this point. Whatever she still needed from a doctor could easily be handled by the live-in doctor I’d already hired to look after her during her recovery. So we decided it was best to just make the move to the new house now.
It was in everyone’s best interest.
“Okay sweetie,” Tamryn said, holding Avion up as she curled out of bed. “You good?”
Avion nodded. “I think I got it. It’s just a trip to the bathroom so far.”
I snickered. “That’s true, but you’ve gotta make it all the way out front to the car. Are you sure you don’t want us to grab a wheelchair.”
“I have to be able to walk,” she replied, but winced as she put her weight on her legs. “See? I’ve got it.”
“That’sobviouslya look of confidence and joy,” Tamryn joked. “I’m about to pull rank and get the wheelchair.”
“No, no, no.” Avion pulled herself free of Tamryn’s support and wiggled her body around, bounced between her two legs, and even did a slow turn. “See? I’ve got it. I’m okay.” She turned and looked at me, and must have been able to read the look of concern on my face. “Really. I’m okay.”
“Okay, well.” I grabbed her arm. “Remember that other thing I suggested? We’ll do that too, okay? As soon as we get there.”
She nodded with a smile. “Okay. I’m looking forward to it.”
Knowing that I had to spring a sudden move on top of everything else Avion was going through at the moment, I wanted to make sure she was very aware of the fact that there was a space at the new home I’d acquired that would be all her own. It wasn’t just a bedroom, it was a wing. She’d have her own kitchen, bathroom, dining area, living space, and bedroom. Once she’d had a chance to see the space, she’d be able to order anything she wanted to make it feel like home. I told her no amount of money was too much. For how upset she was about Lorie, the idea of getting to appoint her own space did seem to make Avion happier.
Which was officially my goal.
If Avion was happy--if I could show her I could make her happy--then maybe when the time came for me to present her with the choice to stay or go, she would choose to stay.
Avion was right. Once she was on her feet and moving on her own, she quickly found her footing and could walk without issue. Her gunshot wound was in her right side, and the bullet had pierced deep into her muscle, although doctors were fortunately able to remove it. In spite of the fact that she’d only been shot in her torso, she was experiencing pain in places we weren’t expecting, specifically her head and back. The weakness in her legs was likely due to how long she’d been off her feet, but she was rapidly developing the ability to move without issue.
Maybe the rest would ease itself out too?
The new home that I secured was way out at the far end of Long Island, built half-suspended over the water. It had two full acres of land in front of it before even reaching the house, and the road in was surrounded by trees on both sides, along with fences armed with scanning technology. There was no other way to reach the house apart from that road unless you came by boat, over the ocean, and I had the area surrounding the home in the water laced with electromagnetic waves that would immediately shut down any speedboat, and any rowboat would be spotted by the guards I had posted in towers overlooking the water. Between those precautions and those on the only road leading in or out of the house, my security center would be able to track every single person visiting our new home, and if it was someone who wasn’t on my list of those allowed, the instructions were to shoot first and ask questions later.
Due to the fact that I had no way of knowing who in my former staff might have been tainted, I hired an entirely new staff, all of whom had been moved in from out of state. The Narzand Brothers were definitely smart enough to plant a few employees amongst the pool in New York, so to be extra safe I only hired people who lived in other states and were willing to locate, and I had a proxy search for staff on my behalf. All the staff were being paid handsomely to live on-site in staff quarters and were being told that, at least for the immediate future, they could not come and go. Anything they needed would be ordered and brought to them. All their phones would be linked to my network so that I could record calls, texts, emails, and any other form of outgoing communication.
I used to think my father was insane for being as paranoid as he was, but I understood it now.
Of the ten bedrooms in the home, one was designated for me, and four were combined and restructured for Avion’s wing. Two of the enclosed entertainment rooms that could also be used as bedrooms were converted into bunk-style staff quarters, with an attached den containing all the luxuries to keep a person happy and comfortable. I wanted my new staff at peak satisfaction so that none of them had any reason to try and leave our employ. Unfortunately for them, there was an unspoken caveat to their employment--no one could quit. I couldn’t trust what anyone could do with any staff who left and the Narzand brothers could get to them easily. If someone tried to quit, as much as I hated it, they’d be silenced.
I didn’t like killing innocents, but necessary was necessary -- I had to keep my family and my business safe.
Avion and I’s living quarters were the only things on the top floor. At my last home, the top floor had been used exclusively for killing, but that was now in the basement. My office and a studio for Avion were on the third floor, so there was really no reason for anyone to be beyond the third floor but us two. That was by design as well. I wanted total control over who was in every inch of my home, at least while this threat was most imminent. I didn’t consider myself an easy scare, but the Narzand brothers’ threat freaked me out. Even I could admit that.
“So no one will be up here but us?” Avion asked as we got off the elevator on the top floor.
“Occasionally house staff to clean the rooms or bring food, but two specific staff have been assigned to this floor, one for cleaning and one for cooking. There’s no reason for anyone outside the two of us or the two of them to be up here, and we’ll have control over their schedule to make sure no one is here unexpectedly.”
“Okay. Perfect,” she said.
