Page 91 of Triggered By Love
The temperature in the room chilled a few degrees, and Avery’s shoulders slumped as she tucked the sheets back between the mattresses.
“Hey, I’m so sorry.” Jason dropped the thong and put a comforting hand on Avery’s back. “He would have done anything to make you happy.”
“Yes, he would.” Avery sighed and blinked, looking away from Jason. “He wanted to make that evening memorable and special. Unforgettable. I would have been the happiest woman alive, instead of the most pathetic.”
“Your show was a success up to that point.” He wanted so much to soothe the pain she was obviously immersed in. “Alida said the energy and vibe were exactly how she’d planned.”
“Alida is a publicity expert. Of course, she’d spin it that way.”
“Don’t forget, I was there.” Jason drew Avery closer, and she rested against him, still tense and on the verge of tears. “I felt the excitement and energy. It was like an electrical storm. Had my hair standing on edge.”
“More like the gunman had you amped up.” Avery’s voice was dry. “But thanks for the pep talk.”
“No pep talk. Everything was perfect. The colors. The sharp lines, and the contrasting dissonance of textures and angles—hard against soft, smooth and rough, light and dark.”
“Now you’re talking like the fanboy fashion press.” Avery snorted. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”
“Brando had an aura of real power and strength.”
“Yes, he did. But did you know he’s a big softy inside?”
Jason smiled and kissed the top of Avery’s head. “Anyone would be mush in your arms.”
“Now you’re flattering me, Detective. What is it you want?” She lifted her gaze to his, and those large Madonna eyes were moist.
“I’m not telling. I’d rather surprise you. Keep you guessing.”
“You’re ornery.” She poked him with her fingertip. “You know Brando was going to surprise me?”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “If you knew, how would it be a surprise?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Avery huffed. “He truly thought I didn’t know, and it was all so sweet how he planned it to the last detail.”
“Has it occurred to you he wanted you to know and act surprised?”
“Only you would cast aspersions on him.” Even though her words were accusatory, she sounded amused. “I’ll have you know he had a ring in that pocket. He was going to propose. It would have been everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”
Jason knew about the ring. It was part of the items catalogued from Brando’s body. His stomach dropped at the reliving of the stab in her heart where her dreams had bled out. Instinctively, he knew he could never make up for it, nor could he ever hope to give her the happiest moment of her life—without sharing a sense of dread and fear of impending disaster.
She would never be so trusting again—of any man or of fate itself.
“Did Ivanna accessorize Brando’s outfit?” he asked out of the blue.
“No, I did. Brando wasn’t a model. He was just my man.” Avery’s voice was wistful. “He died being my man.”
A tear trailed from the corner of her eye, and she didn’t touch it.
“He’ll always be yours,” Jason agreed.
“Always made me happy until he couldn’t.” She sniffed and placed her hands on his chest. “So now you understand why I can never be happy again.”
He nodded, because he knew that pain, and more than that, the vow to never be happy. It was disloyal to believe he could enjoy life when his mother couldn’t live to sip coffee and gossip with a neighbor on a porch swing, walk on the beach with her grandchild picking up seashells, or ring in the New Year with her loved ones without the threat of physical violence at every turn.
“I don’t believe we were meant to be happy.” He put his arms around Avery’s shoulders. “But we are meant to fight. To soldier on and to correct injustice.”
“You’re right. Ivanna was hurt, and the reason we’re here is to find her assailant before he hurts someone else.”
“Or finishes her off.” Jason gave Avery one last squeeze, heartened that she hugged him back before pushing off.
