Divinely Living (Surviving Series) (25 page)

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he breathed against my cheek. “I’m going to book flights for tomorrow.”

“What about the company?”

“Fuck it, Ava. Fuck the lot of them.” He bit out. “Baby, nothing is worth the hell this is putting you through. We’ll be on the first available flight to London I promise you.”

“You were amazing today,” I sighed and touched my head to his. “They just saw me as a damn joke. The thing is they’re right. I am a joke, this whole situation is one fucked up joke. Funny thing is I’m the only one not laughing.”

“Nothing about today was funny and you are no joke. You showed so much courage going there today and in my eyes, Miss Matthews you are the amazing one. And my opinion is the only one that counts.”

“You’re just biased because you love me.” I shuddered as his tongue traced my outer ear.

“I could have been a member of the board sat in that room today, with no knowledge of you at all, and you would still have been the most captivating creature I’d ever seen.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you, Jonah Jacobson?” My breath caught, as his hand slid to my upper thigh and grazed the skin of my groin.

“Those three little words are quickly becoming my favourite words in the English vocabulary. I’ll never tire of hearing you say you love me.”

Stretching my legs and arms outwards, my depleted body screamed for sleep. Yawning loudly, I sank further into the heat of the water and nestled closer to Jonah’s hard body, which made a perfect pillow.

“I think we need to put you to bed,” Jonah chuckled as I yawned again.

“You make the best mattress,” I mumbled sleepily. “So hard but silky soft too.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughed, before sliding his hand underneath a pump bottle and lathering his hands. “Wash, pyjamas then bed for you, my wife to be. Let me take care of you Ava, it’s my privilege to do so.” He placed a kiss against my cheek while running his hands across every inch of my body, thoroughly cleaning every part of me. Resting my head against his shoulders, I fought slumber, doing as he asked by allowing him to take care of me. I yawned for a third time and rested my head against his shoulder, convinced I would be more than happy to stay exactly where I was to sleep. “There may be more of me to take care of in a few months time,” I muttered, my lids heavy and body too relaxed to move.

He stopped cleansing my skin and tensed beneath me. Too tired to comment, I just lay against him. His hand lowered to my stomach and rested against my navel, his fingers splayed across the skin there. “If that’s the case, I’ll love every extra inch of you and take care of you twice as much,” he whispered in my ear.

Nothing more was said. After drying my body every bit as thoroughly as he cleaned it, he tugged me into a pair of pink pyjama bottoms and a matching sleep vest, helped me into bed and with the words, “Sleep, baby. I love you so much too” ringing in my ears, I closed my eyes and this time allowed myself to fall sound asleep.

A gentle hand brushed loose strands of hair from my face and soft lips grazed my forehead.

“Wake up, baby, we have company,” came Jonah’s voice through my sleepy haze. Prying my eyes open, a dim light from the bedside lamp, cast amber shadows out into the dark room and bathed his face in subtle rays. Stretching beneath the warmth of the quilt covering me, I sighed deeply before focusing on Jonah. His upper torso was bare and wore only dark sweatpants that hung low on his hips, the sexy V etched into his lower stomach prominent as he crouched over me. For the first time in a day, I was instantly aroused. The heat simmering within Jonah’s eyes made my heart stutter and pulse race. Linking my fingers at his nape, I pulled his head down for a long, lip melting kiss that left me writhing with need when he pulled away.

Blowing a harsh breath over my face, his short, quick breaths, as he held his head just above mine, showed his need most definitely matched my own.

“I want nothing more than to crawl on top of you and make love to you for hours but Mason is next door and he needs to speak to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone,” I groaned and turned onto my side.

“Mason was the only one who supported you today Ava. I think five minutes of your time before we leave tomorrow would be only fair.”

“Okay,” I grumbled, seriously pissed at having to leave the warmth of my slumber pit. “But as soon as he leaves, your fine ass has some serious loving to shower me with.”

His throaty chuckle made me smile. “You’re so hot when you’re tired and demanding.”

“Too right I am,” I yawned. Kicking the quilt back, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and slipped on Jonah’s grey hoodie that was thrown on a side chair. “I don’t only have hell as a middle name; high maintenance is in there too.”

Holding out his hand, Jonah tugged me to my feet. “And I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He rubbed his nose against mine, clasped my hand and led me into the living room.

As we entered, an agitated Mason paced the carpeted floor. His earlier suit was replaced by a brown v neck sweater and faded denims, his midnight coloured hair was ruffled. Two chocolate brown eyes fell warm on my face and tension left his body the moment I walked towards him. Enough was enough, I told myself. It was time for Mason to spill and tell me exactly where I knew him from and why he felt so familiar whenever I was in his presence. Seems he was not about to make me wait too long for an answer.

“You look so much like your mother,” he breathed as I closed the space between us.

“That’s how you know me? You knew my mother?” I held my breath and waited for his reply.

“I more than knew your mother, Savannah.” He closed his eyes as if remembering times passed and stood silently. Seconds passed before he opened them and looked straight at me. “I loved your mother. I still do. I’ve loved her for twenty four years and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

“But that would mean you knew her before she even came to Chicago. Even before she became pregnant with me.” Unease slid down my spine and I braced myself for what I knew was going to be a difficult, if not life changing, answer to hear.

“Gina became pregnant because of me.” Masons voice was low, almost choked as he spoke. My heart thudded painfully in my chest and adrenaline coursed through my veins at lightning speed.

“What are you saying?” I asked quietly.

Running a hand through his hair, his chest rose and dropped with harsh breaths before he composed himself and spoke directly to me. “What I’m saying, Savannah is that I made Gina pregnant. I’m the one who you belong to. You are my baby girl. The baby girl I have waited so long for.”

“No,” I cried as the enormity of what he was saying began to seep into my skull. “You can’t be.”

“Yes I am,” he nodded sadly. “Savannah, I’m your father.”

***

Every bit of strength I possessed left my body and my legs caved beneath me. I fell against a rock hard barrier; two strong arms, the only thing that stopped me from crumbling to the floor. Mason stepped forward, his hands reaching out to me. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” warned Jonah. “I’ve got her.”

Lifting me to my feet, he gently eased me onto the nearest sofa and held me against his bare chest. Shock turned to anger, furious anger that boiled in my stomach and unleashed from my mouth.

“Who sent you to do this?” My voice was raised. “Is this Alex’s final laugh? Is this his sick idea of finishing me off for good?”

Shaking his head, Mason’s hands made white knuckled fists at his side. “I hated that bastard with a passion. I would never, ever do his bidding. The only person who sent me to do this is me, Savannah.”

“I don’t believe you.” I raised my chin in defiance, batting my eyelids furiously to hold back the tears threatening behind my eyes. “My mother told me about my father. You’re definitely not him.”

“Gina lied to protect you Savannah. She lied to protect me. I am your father and I have this to prove it.”

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled an old faded photograph from his pocket and handed it to me. My hands shook relentlessly as I tentatively took the photograph from him and stared down at it. A gasp caught in my throat and there was no holding back the tears as they fell in torrents. Looking up at me was my mother, my young, beautiful, smiling mother cradling a baby with wisps of bright red hair on the top of her head. I must have only been a month or two old judging by the white blanket I was wrapped in and the way Gina was holding me in her arms as if I was precious cargo. Her vivid green eyes were bright, her face radiant with happiness. Long auburn curls framed her smiling face and hung over her shoulders. My heart fragmented into thousands of pieces as it broke while I continued to stare.

“Where did you get this?” I sniffed my voice heavy with tears and suffocating emotions.

“She gave it to me just before she left. Turn it over Savannah.”

I didn’t want to turn it over. I wanted to sit and stare at the scene of serenity and love captured on the photographic paper I was grasping tightly in my hand. This was the only link to my childhood, the only living memory of my mother and me together. And with the happiness and warmth exuding from Gina, a stark difference to the only Gina I could remember, I needed to hold the photograph in my hand and gaze down at us both together forever.

“Turn it over, baby,” soothed Jonah. His fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed before I slowly flipped it over. Neat, feminine writing was scrawled diagonally across the back. I slapped my palm across my mouth as I read my mothers words and my already shattered heart broke a little more.

My Darling Mason

This photograph is our way of being with you always

You are my one, my only and my forever

Your girls

Gina and Savannah Mae

“I’m prepared to take any DNA testing you ask for. But they will only tell you the same thing I am. You are my daughter, Savannah. You are my baby girl.”

Rubbing my fingertips across the poignant words, I knew in my gut he was telling the truth. Distressed sobs stuttered my chest and formed in my throat. I lifted my head. Mason’s eyes were drowning in his tears, utter desperation ingrained in his facial features and his shoulders hunched. A broken, empty man gazed at me longingly through crying eyes and I knew, I just knew. This was my father, the man whose genes I shared and who undoubtedly still loved my mother.

“You left us. How could you do that to me? How could you do that to her when she needed you?” I stuttered. Jonah’s arm rested on my shoulder, his hand cupped my cheek and tilted my head.

“You’re shaking, sweetheart. Can I get you anything? I have a feeling this is going to be a long night.”

I could barely nod my head in reply. Freaking out was a tame description of how I was feeling. My eyes were fixated on Mason. So many unanswered questions and blank spaces of time ran through my mind and Mason, my father, was the only one to filling in the missing voids my life had been plagued with for so long. Prepared to spend as long as it took to gain the answers I deserved to have, but already flagging in the attention span department, there was only one cup of necessity that would get me through the night.

“I really need caffeine,” I sighed wearily.

“Coffee is on its way.” Jonah stood and shot a glance at Mason, who hadn’t moved an inch since he last spoke. “Mason?”

His black hair swayed from side to side as he shook his head. “I’m good. Just take care of Savannah.”

Leaving the room, I heard the faint sound of the caffeine monster I had especially requested firing up, and Jonah’s quiet curse as pieces of crockery crashed together. A sure sign, he was riding the emotional roller coaster along with me.

“Ava,” I said while curling my legs beneath me on the sofa. “My name is Ava.”

Mason’s head swung my way, startled by my voice. “I’ve known you as Savannah for twenty two years. It’s difficult to call you anything else.”

“Try,” I replied. “I’m only Savannah when people are pissed at me or want something from me. To the people who matter I’m Ava.”

"Ava it is then.”

“And please, sit down.”

An almost inaudible, humourless chuckle escaped his lips as he perched his large frame in lounge chair. “You even sound like your mother.”

“Do I?” I questioned, “Because I have very little memory of Gina. You probably know a hell of a lot more about her than I do.”

I couldn’t help the hint of bitterness in my words but they were the truth. I had practically zero memory of her other than her thirst for money and love of high flying men. Small things such as her favourite food, favourite music or even the sound of her laughter held no memory for me.

“You’re the vision of her,” he answered without hesitation.

Tipping my head into the back of the sofa, I stared up at the ceiling. “Everyone keeps saying that. I just honestly don’t remember anything we shared in common.”

Sitting forward with his elbows resting on his thighs, he gazed intently at me. “You were so young when she died, Ava. You only remember the Gina that life changed. The Gina I remember and hold in my heart was warm, loving and strong and she could be seriously outspoken when she needed to be. Seeing you in that meeting room today, facing those jerks with such dignity and pride,” his gaze dropped to his hands. “It was like seeing Gina stood there, as if she was very much alive and standing right in front of me.”