Page 23 of Capturing Ava
It feels like a lifetime has passed and then the little beast does something I don’t expect—she holds that piece of paper to her chest and she smiles. She fucking smiles.
Where was the fear?
Where was the terror that I had been there while she slept?
Where was the torture?
It seemed that on this day, I was the only one that was tortured and the little beast had found peace.
Uncertainty crawls through my body at an alarming rate and something rather unwelcome. Watching her smile at the torturous gift I had left spreads warmth through my body.
“God dammit, little beast, why couldn’t you just fear me.” I grit into the cold morning air.
I’m not going to fall for it again. I’m not going to fall for her again. So, why can’t I peel my eyes from the little vixen?
I shake my head as I finally walk away from her but I can’t help the feeling of loss every time I do this.
Watching Ava was supposed to haunt her but it seemed that the only one haunted here was….me.
8
DREAMINGOFYOU
AVA
I wake up alone. The negligee is still wrapped around my body. Did I dream it up? Was I that hungry for affection that I dreamt my stalker snuck into my room in the middle of the night to please me? A groan falls from my lips. Great, I’m losing the plot. He had done it, drove me to insanity.
A pounding erupts through the house. Or maybe that was inside my head, too. My head is overcome with a floating and painful sensation, as if I’ve just been in a boxing match with Mike Tyson. I had drunk a little but felt like I was suffering the after-effects of a wild night on the town.
Once more the pounding erupted, but then I realised it wasn’t coming from inside of my head. Climbing out of bed, I race down the stairs. It was Audrey. She always had impeccable timing, and she wanted to find out what happened with the dashing bookkeeper who had held my attention enough for me to want to stay out.
Oh shit. Then I remembered the heart in the box. Shit. The fear stops my body at the foot of the stairs. I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t real anymore. I wasn’t sure what was real anymore. I wasn’t sure if I dreamed it all up in my head or if it happened. Please let it be the warped confines of my deluded brain, I beg.
With the door swinging open, my mouth hung open, and I had the urge to close it once more. Oh no, what was he doing here? He just stands there with his deep penetrative gaze burning a hole through my soul. The skeleton mask still covers his face. “Why are you back?” I utter.
“You called me.”
“When? I’ve only just woke up.” I know that I’m standing before him wearing next to nothing and I still haven’t moved. This is worse than the walk of shame, which I would prefer. At least there was pleasure involved there. There was nothing pleasurable about this meeting.
“Are you going to invite me in?” What was he, a bloody vampire? Did he need an invitation to step across the threshold? A small chuckle falls from my lips. “I’m glad I amuse you, Miss Valentina.”
“You don’t.” I scowl while stepping aside and allowing him to walk into my house—where I was alone. Smart, Ava. Very smart.
“I will wait here.” He announced as I closed the door. “I said I will wait here.”
“I heard you. I’m not deaf.” He stands there, not moving. “What are you waiting for?”
“Well, I thought you might be more comfortable with clothes on.” His eyes move up and down my body. “However, I’m not opposed to you staying as you are.”
“I bet,” I smirk. “You don’t have to stand like a statue. Make yourself useful and make some coffee.” I don’t wait for a response as I leave him to mutter to himself.
I’m not one to put much thought into what I wear because the only people who would ever see it are myself, Audrey, and the fanbase I had gained over the years. I didn’t care what the skeleton man thought of me. I had never seen his face. Why would I care what he thought? And yet here I am, staring into my closet like I don’t have rows upon rows of clothes to choose from.
I make my way to the kitchen and he’s sitting at the breakfast bar holding out a cup of coffee like he belongs here—in my house. “Thanks,” I mutter, taking the cup from him.
“You sounded stressed when you called last night.” He pauses and I’m still confused when I had the time to even call him. “Something about a heart in a box.”
“Right, yes.” I almost choked on my coffee at the mention of the heart that had been left as a gift. “I have to be honest. I don’t remember calling you.”
