“Abram, nice to hear from you so soon.” I hear Vince talking behind me and I turn around with her in my arms. His eyes lock with mine as he speaks. “Yeah, he was just here, looking for the girl.” My heart drops and my blood chills. This is bad. Real fucking bad. He’s quiet a moment. I can’t hear what Abram’s saying on the other end, but judging from the look on Vince’s face, it’s not good. “Kane’s got a good handle on her...Felipe just left. Kane? No, he took off a few minutes after Felipe did.”
I feel the faintest bit of relief. Vince covered for me. He nods at me and then tilts his head to the parking lot. I give him a stern nod in return and start walking in that direction.
I pass Tommy and Anthony on the way out. They both look smug and happy. Probably because their family has me under their thumb now.
I open Ava’s door and gently push on the small of her back for her to get in, but her grip on me tightens. She looks up at me through her lashes like she’s waiting for something.
“You alright?” I ask, and kiss her hair.
She nods her head and asks, “Am I still a good girl?” She’s tense, and waves of anxiety are rolling off of her. It takes me by surprise. I can tell she needs reassurance. She’s worried, and I don’t like that. I'd hoped that Felipe's death at her hands would help her, but the only vibe I’m getting from her is that she’s scared.
“Of course you are. And he’ll never hurt you again.”
She’s still a bit tense but gives me a small smile and says, “Thank you, Kane.” Her fingers twist in her hands and she gets into her seat.
It leaves me with an uneasy feeling in my gut. Something is very wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve just shot him myself. I spear my fingers through my hair and stand outside of my door, looking back over to the docks. A few men are shoveling dirt into a wheelbarrow right where his ass was lying when I shot him. They’re cleaning up my mess.
Maybe it was wrong of me. Maybe I shouldn’t have made her kill him. Fuck. I did that. I made her kill him. I didn’t give her a choice. I made her a murderer. It never occurred to me that she wouldn’t take it like I did. She’s a woman, a sweet girl. She’s not like me. Fuck. I don’t know if I made things better or worse for her.
I finally open the door and sit in the seat. My hands twist on the steering wheel as I look straight ahead and ask, “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes, Kane.” She’s quick to answer and it’s in that tone she used to use. I turn to face her. “Tell me what’s wrong.” I stare into her eyes, willing the truth from her. I don’t want her to wall herself off. I need this to be beneficial for us both.
“Abram’s going to kill you if he finds out.” She chokes on the last word.
“Baby, you don’t have to worry about me.” My lips pull into an asymmetric grin. “He has no idea.”
“He’ll find out. I’ve seen what they do.” She struggles to breathe, and I reach across the console and wrap my arms around her. I pull her into my lap. She pulls up her knees and lays her cheek against my chest. Her eyes are closed and she’s shaking her head. I wrap my arms around her and rock her gently. After a moment, she calms. I keep rubbing her back to soothe her.
“Ava, sweetheart, everything is going to be alright.” I pull back a bit to look at her and brush the hair away from her face. I tilt up her chin and she opens her eyes to look back at me. She’s not crying, but she’s obviously not okay. “I want you to forget about this. I don’t want you to worry, alright?” She nods her head and parts her lips to say something, but I press a finger against them.
The move is more intimate than I intended. A heated spark lights in her eyes, and her lips stay slightly parted. Her chest rises and falls, and the air between us changes. I pull my hand away and resist the urge to kiss her. I search her eyes for a moment, trying to calm my own needs. My dick is hardening in my pants and the urge to fuck her is riding me hard. I push it down.
“Ava, forget about this.” I clear my throat and add, “All of this. I want you to disregard everything that happened today.” She nods her head once and pulls away slightly, the meaning of my words sinking in. My heart falls as she pulls away from me completely, righting herself. I help her move back to her seat and ignore the fact that my dick is digging into my zipper.
I put my hands on the wheel, but before we take off, I have to apologize. “I’m sorry about that, Ava. I shouldn’t have made you do that.”
She slowly shakes her head. “Please, don’t be.”
“I shouldn’t have made you do something you didn’t want to.”
She looks straight at me as she says, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that.” She looks forward and adds, “He’s only one of many.”
Ava
I can’t get over this sick feeling I have, like I’m going to heave up the tiniest bit of water I’m able to swallow. I need to force it down, but it’s hard. The food smells amazing. Chicken carbonara, with fresh Parmesan. I want to devour it. My stomach rumbles for it. But as soon as it touches my lips, I have the urge to throw it up. Kane keeps looking at me. He wants me to eat and I want to eat too, but I’m going to be sick. I’ve felt like this ever since the ride home. Kane was silent; he didn’t even look at me once.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I killed him. And I’m so fucking happy I did. At the same time, I’m scared to death that it’s not real. That it’s fake. I’m convinced it’s a setup, and he’s going to walk in here any minute and punish me. I keep picturing him over and over, clutching his throat and then nothing. Completely gone.
Is it possible? I saw them kill so many people. But I never had this feeling. The feeling it wasn’t real. I’m terrified he’s going to come back.
I also want to do it again. I need to do it again. I’ve never killed before, but he was only the first. I’ll handle this sick feeling every day for the rest of my life in exchange for the rest of them lying in the dirt with bullet holes in their heads. An image of him flashes before my eyes. His face covered in dirt, his hair a mess. Laying lifeless with his eyes open and a neat hole right in the center.
Kane sets the fork down on his plate and the clinking of metal on ceramic makes me jump in my seat.
“I need you to talk to me,” he says from across the table.
I nod my head and swallow the lump growing in my throat. “What would you like to know?” I gently set my own fork down and stare at him with my hands clasped on my lap. I need to be sure I give him my full attention.
He’s angry. I don’t think he’ll hurt me, but with the others, the slightest thing set them off when they were angry.
“I hate it when you do that,” he says, and it makes chills go down my spine. My breath falters, and I struggle to respond. I don’t know what I’ve done. “Fuck!” he says under his breath, as he pushes the chair back, and the legs drag loudly across the floor. He walks over to me with determined strides, and I resist the urge to cower.
I don’t know what I’ve done, but I’ve obviously displeased him.