Page 8 of Little Fury

“Eyes on me, Ava; I want to see you when you come. I want it burned into my very fucking soul as you come on my cock.”I whimper at his words.

He moves, changing the angle so he can get deeper. His hand moving between us, his fingers finding and stroking that bundle of nerves there.

When my orgasm hits, I clench him tight. His head drops into the crook of my neck as he buries himself in me and releases a guttural noise when he cums. He lays on me for a moment, panting into my neck, kissing it, dragging his teeth gently against my skin.

He lifts his head, meeting my eyes, and I can’t stop the flood of emotion that floods me. A pain like nothing I have ever felt before crushes my chest, more than my heart breaking, the knowing this is the last time my body will feel his weight on it, the last time my fingers will run over his skin, the last time his lips will meet mine, the last time his fingers will gently stroke my hair.Knowing this a crack forms in my soul.

His eyes meet mine and I can see in them the same words I wish I could say, the same things I feel but can’t say.

It shatters me.

The tears come spilling from my eyes, unstoppable. He kisses me, giving me every part of himself in that kiss. Thekiss we know is goodbye. I kiss him back, hoping he feels me in it. Feels my heart and knows that if it had been different, I would have given him my very soul.

He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to mine. My eyes are closed as I breathe him in and out. The emotions and trauma of the day have claimed my strength, and I’m asleep before he even slides out of me.

Four hours later, just as the sun starts turning the sky that beautiful morning pink, I woke up and knew I've lingered as long as possible. Jake is asleep next to me. I can hear his ever-so-quiet snore, the one he only gets when he falls into bed after 48 hours on call at the hospital. I know he won’t wake up for hours, no matter what. I could blast an air horn, and he would sleep through it.

I’m thankful for that. I untangle myself from him, another sign that he’s out for the count. Jake and I are both non-cuddle types of sleepers. Sure, we snuggle in post-coital bliss, but both of us want to sleep, so we roll apart. A leg or hand or foot touching, yes. But not this tangled mess of limbs. I get out of bed and stifle a gasp at the blood on the bed from where the stitches in my shoulder opened. My side somehow held, but my shoulder was not so fortunate.

“Fuck.”I mutter to myself. I head into his walk-in, find leggings, underwear, sports bra, socks, and sneakers that I had here, as well as one of Jake’s black t-shirts and an oversized black zip up and get dressed in the relative darkness of the closet. Dressed, I make my way out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me, not allowing myself to look back at him.

I get to the kitchen, find Jake’s medical bag and search for what I hope it contains. Finding the glue, I quickly added some to where the stitches tore. I grab a bunch of bandages, antibiotics, and painkillers that are suspiciously sitting near the bag.

He knows me well, knew I would sneak away.

Out of the fridge, I grab water, a couple of sports drinks, and what I’m pretty sure is Jake’s lunch for tomorrow. I open the front closet, grab a bag, and begin loading it with my stolen goodies.

With my bag packed, I head to the garage. I go through the cupboards and grab cleaner and paper towels. I make quick work of cleaning up my driver's seat.

This is why you get leather seats. Spills and blood clean up easily.

Going back into the house, I grab my bag of stolen goodies, go into Jake's office, and sit at his desk. I pick up a pen and paper.

Jake,

If things had been different in my life, if my parents had made one different choice, this day may have ended differently.

Do you remember that Sunday a few weeks back when we were eating in your bed, both of us reading? And you took that stupid selfie of us doing such a mundane thing? I never told you this, but that moment made me feel warm and safe. It made me feel like I used to when I was home with my parents. I knew that day that I wanted you. I wanted you for myself. I wanted the life I could see for myself with you.Realistically or not, I wanted that life with you so badly.

When I met you, I thought you would be nothing but another moment in my life—a new moment to go with all the others I've shared with someone just passing through. But that Sunday, I realized for the first time in 17 years that I wanted something for myself. Something that was mine and not tarnished by this venomous little life I lead. And for a single moment, I fooled myself into thinking it was possible. At that moment, I forgot who and what I am.

Had it been possible, I would have chosen you for myself. Forgive me, Jake, for the lies and the hurt. Forgive it of me, please, because if it had been in my power to give to you, I would have given myself to you heart, body, and soul.

-Ava

I leave the letter on Jake’s desk. And make my way back to the kitchen. As I walk past the fridge, a photo catches my eye. It's that stupid selfie from that Sunday. Jake had it printed and on his fridge. My heart clenches painfully. I grab the photo, pick up my bag and head into the garage.

Backing out of Jake's garage onto the street, pausing for a breath, my hands gripping the steering wheel hard. A tear slides down my cheek more threatening to come. I wipe it away, exhale the breath I'm holding, place the car in drive and ignore the urge to look back as Ileave behind a second chance, I knew I didn't deserve but still wanted.

On the road I'm out of the city within 40 minutes, grateful that even LA is quiet this time of day. Opening my navigation, I put in the address ofa storage unitin Kettleman City. Grabbing adrink and a protein bar out of my stolen goodies, I turn on a more upbeat playlist than I typically listen to.“I Wanna Dance with Somebody"by Whitney Houston starts, and I make my way 3 hours to my first destination.

The storage facility comes into view, and I’m happy to be able to get out and stretch my legs. Pulling up to the gate, I punch in the code and wait for it to open. I drive through the lot to unit 18246. After punching in my code the automaticdoor opens.

I sigh, feeling like I have been run over by a fucking cement truck.Of course, you do you, idiot; you’ve been betrayed by someone you thought of as family, shot twice, fucked within an inch of your life and broke your own heart, so yeah, cement truck sounds accurate. I stop for a moment and cock my head to the side, wondering if maybe I talk to myself too much? But I quickly shake off the thought because who else could I talk to that would make me laugh this much.

I need to get my ass in gear. I want to be gone from here as quickly as I can. I pack up some bags with all the necessities any young woman needs to start a new chapter in her life.

Clothes??

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