Page 236 of Heartache Duet

Without a word, I pass him and go straight to her. I stop when I see her, my hand still on the doorknob. On her bed, she sits in the corner, her back to the wall, knees raised. She looks up, her mouth parting. A lump forms in my throat when I see her expression… as if in a single night, hope lived and died inside her. A tiny hiccup forces movement in her shoulders, and I hate myself. I’m quick to get to her, to wrap her in my arms and shield her from the dangers of the world around her. I want to protect her, to love her. She crawls onto my lap, wordless, and places her ear to my chest, listening. And I pray to God she finds what she’s looking for, what she needs. Her gaze lifts, her head tilted, brow furrowed in confusion as she looks at me, her hands clawing at my jacket to remove it. With unsteady breaths, she goes back again, her hand shaking as her finger taps, taps, taps. “Where is it?” she whispers, and everything inside me stills.

She removes my sweatshirt now, another layer to help her heal, but when her cheek presses to my chest again, it’s still not enough. Lifting my T-shirt until it’s skin-on-skin, I watch the rise and fall of her chest, the way her fingers dig into my flesh. Panic forms in her words when she cries, “Where is it?”

The magic… it’s there. It has to be. “Ava, it’s there…”

“It’s not!” She pulls away, tears welling in her eyes.

“No,” I rush out, my own alarm making me grasp her head, pull her into me again. “I swear to you; it’s there.”

“It’s not there, Connor!” she yells. “It’s not there! It’s not there! It’s not there!”

I bring her closer again, hold her tighter, my heart collapsing in my ribcage. Dad and Trevor are at her door now, watching, waiting. And I recognize the moment Ava falls apart in my arms, the moment the heartache becomes too much, and the cries become so heavy that no sound can accompany them. I rock her gently, whispered hushes floating out with every one of my breaths. Tears blur my vision, and I look up at Dad, fear filling my airways. “I don’t know what to do.”

He steps into the room and squats in front of me, his hand gentle on Ava’s back. “Have you slept, Ava?”

She shakes her head, her face shielded in the crook of my neck.

Dad looks toward Trevor. “Does her mom take any Xanax or anything? Maybe she should have a little? Just a small dose, to help…”

Trevor nods. “I’ll grab it.”

With the help of the sedatives, Ava falls asleep in my arms within minutes. In the living room, I can hear Dad and Trevor talking, and so I make sure her breaths are even, her features calm, before untangling myself from her embrace and joining them. Trevor looks up as soon as I open her door. His eyebrows raised, he asks, “How is she?”

“She’s out.”

Dad says, “She needs to sleep… for her own mental health.” Then he looks to Trevor. “And so do you, Trevor.”

“I know,” he sighs out, gripping his phone as if it’s his lifeline. “I haven’t told Ava yet, but they moved her mom from the jail and admitted her into a psych ward. She kept smashing her head on the…” he trails off.

“Jesus,” I mumble, running a hand down my face as I flop down on the couch next to Dad.

Trevor heaves out a breath, low and slow. “My boss—he has a friend who’s a lawyer, I guess. He’s coming over soon to go through everything. I’m hoping they can settle something out of court. I don’t want Ava going through any of that. Not again.”

I nod, though I don’t really understand what’s happening. “What can I do?”

“You’re doing it,” he assures. “I just need you to take care of Ava so I can take care of everything else.”

“And who takes care of you?” I ask.

His eyes drift shut. “Peter’s on a flight home right now.”

THIRTY-FIVE

connor

For the next two days, Ava refuses to get out of bed. She refuses to eat. And she refuses to talk. Even to me. But that doesn’t mean I leave her side. Not for a second am I ever more than a few feet away. When she sleeps, I try to, too. But I can’t. I worry, and that worry turns to panic, turns to dread. Because what if…

What if they can’t cut Miss D a deal?

What happens to her?

What happens to Ava?

Trevor and Peter are in and out of the house, on and off the phone, and I feel useless. I feel like I should be doing more than having one-way conversations with a girl who can barely look at me. A girl who needs magic and can’t find it in the person who promised it to her.

She sees me.

I know she does.

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