Look After You (25 page)

“Shit,” he hisses, as I tend to his wound.

“Sorry,” I whimper apologetically. I have to fight against the urge to heave as I look down at the blood. As I wipe away at the heavy layer of blood, the scrapes and cuts don’t look as bad as I first thought. Then suddenly, I feel infuriated with him.

“What were you thinking? You’re a doctor for Christ’s sake.”

He closes his eyes for a brief moment as if contemplating his own idiocy.
“I wasn’t.”

I sigh sadly as I reach for another alcohol wipe and clean his other hand and with the guilt still sinking heavily inside me, this makes it feel ten times heavier. It’s my fault that he isn’t thinking properly, why he rushed out of the hotel room full of anger and turmoil looking for my brother, punching goddamn walls.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, keeping my eyes trained on his hand as I continue to wipe the blood away.

“Why?”

Still avoiding his eyes, I answer. “Because it’s my fault you’re so angry, why you felt the need to punch a fucking wall. I shouldn’t have told you,” I take a quick glance at the ruffled bed sheets, the reminder of what we did, “and
that
shouldn’t have happened.” Feeling satisfied that his bloody wounds are completely clean; I rummage through the first aid kit in search of a tub of alcohol cream. A shiver erupts along my body when he places his hand over mine, stopping me in my tracks.

“Look at me,” he says, softly. I take a heavy gulp, and then glance up to him, but I still don’t meet his eyes.
“First of all, I’m glad you told me and secondly, was what we did so bad or is that just the guilt talking?” I bite the inside of my lip as I allow the question to linger for a moment and for the first time since it happened, I allow the memories in. Pleasant memories. I desperately want to say that it was horrible, that it was the worst sex I have ever had, that it doesn’t give me tingles at the very thought, but it would be a lie. It was incredible.

“So it is just the guilt then?” he answers for me, and of course he is absolutely right, but it still doesn’t mean it wasn’t wrong, even though it felt so right.

Feeling extremely uncomfortable with where this conversation is going, I ignore his question and gently pull his hand away from mine. I feel the heat of his eyes bore into me as I resume my search for some alcohol cream. Eventually I come across a miniature tub and I unscrew it, still ignoring his glare. I dab some cream against my forefinger and gently apply it against his cuts. Once I have thoroughly applied it to both knuckles, I screw the top back on and place it back into the first aid bag. “Band aid?” I ask, still avoiding the question at hand.

Instead of answering with a yes or no, he changes the subject all together.
“You feel it don’t you? What I feel for you, you feel it too? Don’t you?” My heart halts as he tilts my chin up with his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look at him. I am trembling under his intense gaze, and I have to slam my eyes shut to stop the tears from spilling.

“Ava, look at me
, baby, please, look at me?” I shake my head, clenching my eyes tighter. I can’t look at him. If I do, I won’t be able to look away. “Please look at me, so I can tell you that I love you.”

My eyes blink open, shock coursing through my veins as I let his words register. My heart races and I find it next to impossible to catch my breath.
“W-w-w-what?” I stammer as the words echo through my mind.

Ashton moves closer to me and carefully palms my hands into his own. “I love you.” His voice cracks with the emotional strain as he repeats those three words and with one look into his eyes I know without a doubt his words hold truth.

“When?”

He smiles at my obvious flustered state as I can’t even string a sentence together. Luckily he understands. “I don’t know, maybe since the first time I saw you in the NICU, in your wheelchair, looking at Lily. It may sound cheesy or
cliché, but the moment I laid eyes on you, I couldn’t breathe. You just blew me away, you still do,” he says, with a gentle caress of his thumb against my cheek.

“You love me?’ I question with disbelief, still trying to come to terms with his words. Of course, I kind of figured his feelings out for myself earlier, but I still find it hard to understand. “But why?”

He smiles. “You don’t even realize how beautiful you are, do you?” he says, while his thumb traces gently over my lips. “Yes, I love you; I’m so in love with you.”

I shake my head furiously. “No, but you can’t, you can’t love me. Sebastian, we’re getting married, we’re engaged,” I whimper desperately to myself, reaching for the necklace around my neck with my engagement ring but my heart drops when I come up empty. I suddenly remember taking it off on Friday before decorating, and with the sudden change of events, I must have forgotten to put it back on.

Ashton grips hold of my hand that is lay against my chest, holding me with his intense stare. “Where is he, Ava? If he loves you, where is he?” I want to speak up, defend Sebastian, defend his love for me but for some reason I remain silent. “If he really loves you like he says he does, then he wouldn’t have left you to go to war, he wouldn’t have left you, alone and pregnant, leaving you to deal with Lily’s early arrival. He doesn’t deserve you and Lily. He should be here, but he isn’t.”

“But he has a contract, he couldn’t-”

“If I were Sebastian I would have done everything in my power to be with you, nothing would have gotten in my way; nothing else would have mattered except for my beautiful girl and daughter. He has everything I have ever wanted, but instead of cherishing his life, and the people in it, he chooses to gamble it away. You deserve better and deep down you know it.” I am stunned to silence as the power of his words slice through me.

“You’re amazing, so fucking beautiful. I would marry you in a heartbeat, I love you, and yes I might have only known you for nine weeks, but it feels as though I
’ve known you my whole life. I’m here. He isn’t. You’ve opened up to me, in a way you haven’t ever opened up to him. How can he love you, when he doesn’t even know the real you, not like I do. I love you Ava, and I know you love me too.” I stare at him in awe, unable to respond. My mind is spinning, and my pulse is racing as I allow his words to sink in.

“You feel guilty because it isn’t in your nature to be cruel. I said I wouldn’t kiss you, that I wouldn’t break up your family, that I couldn’t be that guy, but I’ve changed my mind. I will be that guy since your guy is doing a shit-ass job of protecting you, of loving you. I want you, and I’m not letting you go. I will cherish you. I promise you.” I forget the mechanics of breathing as soon as he presses his lips to mine, leaving me breathless and overwhelmed. He pulls away slightly for one moment, his eyes urging me to take the next step. My mind is in a spin, battling between my fiancé and the man I’m falling in love with, knowing I need to pick one and let the other go.

After a moment of emotional deliberation, I go with what my heart is telling me and press my lips to his, unable to deny myself from Ashton any longer.

Chapter 19

Ashton

The moment my body hits it’s ecstasy as I slam deep inside of Ava, I can’t stop the groan that escapes as I fall into a million pieces on top of her, coming the hardest I have ever come in my entire life. I press gentle kisses at the side of her cheek, gingerly nibbling down her neck, worshiping her skin with my lips.

I can hear her sigh with satisfaction, the feel of her arms mauling against my back is almost making me rock hard again. As I kiss along her collarbone, I stroke against her breast, brushing over her nipple. I chuckle against her skin as I swirl my tongue against the dip in-between her collarbone.

I suddenly feel her clam up from under me, her entire body tenses around me. “Oh, God,” she says with panic in her voice.

Immediately, I crane my neck up to look her. “Ava, what is it?” I ask cautiously. I see tears are pooling within her eyes,
 a clear indication she is freaking out.

“Oh, God. Oh, God.” My heart drops to my stomach as she desperately scrambles from under me, covering herself up with her robe, becoming hysterical as she crawls to the other side of the bed, away from me. My heart drops further when I realize it’s because sh
e regrets it.  She regrets what’s happened between us.

“Ava?” My voice trembles as tears fall down her face. It breaks my heart to see her in such physical turmoil.
 Then my heart cracks straight down the middle with her next words.

“That should not have happened. I love Sebastian. I love him,” she shrieks as she rushes towards the bathroom, away from me. I slam my eyes shut with a grimace as I drop my head down in defeat, grasping against the bed sheets in devastation. When I hear the bathroom door slam and her hysterical cries from the other side of the door, I decide that staying in this hotel room is not an option, so I rip the condom off my dick, throw it in the trash can, then change into my crumbled clothes, and rush out. Each distraught cry is too hard to bear. I never thought I would be the person who would cause her to make that sound, ever, and I hate myself for it.

Why couldn’t I have left her alone?

She just told me her brother fucking raped her, and before I even realize what
was happening, I was kissing her and throwing her onto the bed, with me between her legs, practically attacking her with my mouth. Yeah, way to fucking go, Ash.

In a haze, I rush down the six flights of stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator, into the lobby and out into the cool Miami air.
 The fresh air does nothing to ease the anger that continues to soar through my body. Every muscle tenses two fold and I desperately look for something to take my anger out on.

I can see his goddamn face, and I can see it, the image of him touching her with those dirty, incestuous hands of his. It’s enough to send me over the edge. Without any hesitation, I get my phone out from my slack pockets, and pull up a web page. I search his name in the white pages within the Miami Beach area. It comes up with four people with the same name, but looking closer there is only one who fits the age criteria of the Avery Jacobson I am looking for. I save the address to my
 phone and I hail for a taxicab and tell the driver where I am headed. It takes a good twenty minutes in the cab to get to my destination and when we finally come to a stop, I almost swallow my own tongue as I look up at the big-ass white beach house that we have just pulled up in front of. So this is how the other half live, huh?

“Um, are you sure this is the right address?” Surely this isn’t right? He can
’t live here, can he?

“Yep, sure is son, 4236 Bay road, Miami beach.” I grit my teeth with rage as I realize this is the house he lives in. It doesn’t seem right that he gets to live in luxury, while Ava has had to live in hell, on the other side of the damn country, where she had to run just to get away from the motherfucker. I hand the driver a fifty-dollar bill and step out of the vehicle, shutting the door behind me.

As I walk towards the front of the house, I realize there is an electronic security gate, and for me to be able to get through the gate, I’m going to have to speak to someone through the intercom. I press the intercom and considering it’s pretty late, I’m surprised when I get an answer almost immediately. Hoping they haven’t gotten a security camera looking down on me, I decide to go with the ‘my car has broken down’ excuse, because it will be highly unlikely he will let me within an inch of his home if he knows it’s me. When I hear his voice, I have to use every ounce of strength I have inside of me to control my anger.

“
Hi, I’m sorry to disturb you. It seems my car has broken down, and as luck would have it my phone battery has died. Would it be possible to come in and use your phone to call vehicle recovery?”

“
Sure, head on in.”

The security gates begin to open up for me and just stepping foot on the driveway causes every muscle in my body to tense up with anger. The rage I am currently feeling is something I have never felt before, but as I stomp my way through the graveled driveway, past the ridiculously expensive 4x4 Land Rover,
 it takes everything I have not to scratch the side of it with my fucking keys. But I’m not here for that. I’m here to break his face.

When I walk up the steps to the front door, my entire body is trembling so much
 with pure anger that I accidentally end up pressing the doorbell more than once. The moment the door swings open and he emerges, I fucking lose it. I launch for him, wrapping my hand around his neck, fist tight and throw him a good ten feet through the lobby. I almost shock myself at my own strength. I glare at him as I stride over to him, watching as he tries to gather his bearings in confusion.

When he looks up, and realization crosses his face, he suddenly turns angry.
 “What the fuck, man?” He tries to stand up, but I grip him by the collar of his shirt and pull him up and slam him against a wall.

“
You sick motherfucker!” I practically spit in his face, aggressively slamming my forearm against his chest, causing him to hiss in pain. He fights against my hold, but I force my arm deep into his chest, while my other hand wraps around the base of his throat. All I see is red. I hear a female panicked voice shouting from behind, but I ignore it.

“
You’re a fucking disgrace, do you hear me? I should have you fucking castrated after what you’ve done. Or even better chop your dirty little dick up into tiny little pieces. You like raping fifteen-year-old girls? Is that what turns you on, what you get your kicks from? Or do you only have a preference for siblings?” As I spit out the word ‘siblings’ I squeeze my hand tighter around his neck, causing him to choke with restricted breathing. He coughs and splutters for a moment, his fists trying to swipe at me. I ease my hold on his neck for a moment to hear the bastard’s response, glaring at him with full anger. My entire body is shaking with adrenaline as the fury pumps through my veins.

“
Get off me! What the fuck are you talking about? What has she told you?” Just for pulling the playing ‘dumb’ card on me, I force my fist into his stomach, causing him to double over with a curse. And just for good measure, I do it again.

“
You know exactly what I am talking about or do you need me to spit it out for you?” He doesn’t answer, so I am inclined to punch him again, this time with more force. I let go of him forcing him to drop heavily to his knees, with his arms wrapped around his torso as he topples over in pain. I grip him forcefully by the hair, forcing him to look up at me. He grunts in pain, and it gives me great joy.

“
I’m talking about you raping your own sister, at fifteen-years-old until she turned eighteen, but that’s only because she ran the hell away from you. Does that ring any bells?” I clench tighter at the strands of hair that are embedded within my fist, and I pull more vehemently, to the point his eyes begin to water. “Or how you raped your other sister, to the point where she had to kill herself just to get away from you?” I glare at him, hoping to see some recollection or some kind of response, regret, anything, but there is nothing.

“
She’s lying.”

“
She’s lying?” I question, and I can feel my anger becoming more futile by the second. “Oh, okay then.” I palm my left hand into a fist, and I drive it into his nose with such a speed that blood gushes down his face.

“
Do you know how sick you are? You should be locked up for what you’ve done.” I punch him straight in the jaw, almost laughing out loud when I hear a crack. Good that’s a broken nose and jaw. What next?

The guy suddenly gets a backbone and grabs my legs from under me, causing me to lose balance, and I fall heavily onto my back, against the marble floor. I grunt painfully as I feel a dull shooting pain from my coccyx all the way up my spine. Motherfucker.
 He straddles me and lifts his fist to my face, but with the pain only fueling my anger even more, I am too quick for him as I duck to my right, causing him to miss my face and punch the marble floor instead. Crack. This gives me an open opportunity, and I take a quick swipe of my fist against the right side of his face. As he loses sudden momentum, I twist my legs around his waist and slam him onto his back, crushing his chest with my knees, and I punch him over and over again. I ignore the burning in my knuckles as my fists continue to drive into his face. All I can think of is destroying this asshole. The normal, rational Ashton is nowhere to be seen; instead he has been replaced with a raving lunatic.

“
You sick scum bag!” I scream as my fists propel against his bloody face. “You motherfucker! You dirty motherfucking asshole!”

I hear a panicked scream from behind,
“Let go of him, you’re hurting him. Stop it.” When I don’t stop, she becomes more hysterical, to the point where she starts striking me against my back, screaming for me to get off him. Realizing her futile attempt of rescuing her husband from the mad man isn’t working, she stops lashing out at me but then starts threatening me with the cops.

F
inding the hidden strength to my pull myself away from his half unconscious body before I get myself thrown behind bars for attempted murder, I stand and hover over him. Then I spit on him. I don’t usually play at this level of filth, but it was either spit on him or set him on fire.

“
Leave now, or I will call the cops!” she screams as she pushes me out of the way and tends to her piss poor man of a husband.

“
Good, call them. Then I can tell them what a sick and twisted bastard your husband is! Tell them how he raped his sisters, over and over again!” She gapes at me in shock, and this only makes me smirk. “I take it you didn’t know that tiny bit of information when you married him, huh?” She doesn’t answer at first; she just looks at me in pure disgust.

“
Why are you saying all of this? We have just buried his sister! Have you no respect?” She whimpers as she strokes gently against his hair.

“
I’m saying it because it’s true. Your husband is a monster.”

She shakes her head as a bloody Av
ery begins to stir in her arms. “No, no, he wouldn’t, he loves his sisters; he would never have done anything to hurt them.”

“
If that were true, then would I be here right now? It’s the very same reason why today is the first time you got to meet Ava and the very reason you had to attend Fran’s funeral.” Her entire face pales as she looks down at her husband in doubt. I kneel beside her and smile sadly, taking a quick glance down to her bump. I feel terrible for her. She doesn’t deserve this. “If I were you, I would get as far away from him as possible because if he can do that to his own sisters, he probably wouldn’t think twice about doing the same to his own daughter.” She gasps at the very thought, cowering away from him, clutching desperately to her bump. I inwardly smile because it reminds me of Ava and how protective she is of her daughter. Then when I look at the morphed version of her brother, I am swiftly reminded of why I am here. I lean over him, yanking him by the hair and force him to look me in the eye. I can see his eyes flicker open through the small slits of his newly swollen lids.

“
If you so much as look at Ava, be within a mile of her or lay a fucking hand on her ever again, I will track you down and I will kill you. Do you understand me? I will not hesitate, motherfucker.” He just nods pathetically as I shove his face away with a growl. “And just to avoid any misunderstandings, that was a threat.”

Then I walk away.

Oh, and I key the fuckers car.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I get back to the hotel, I head straight to the bar for a much-needed beer. I take a seat at the bar, and I can see how the young bartender looks down at my blood-covered fists as he places a bottle of beer on top of a coaster in front of me, a look of suspicion crossing his face. I give him a twenty for a four-dollar beer as I give him my best ‘don’t ask and we’ll get along just fine’ glare when I tell him to keep the change. He doesn’t inquire any further; instead he walks away with his generous eighty percent tip. Good boy, I think to myself, while I down the entire bottle in one, gasping on a satisfying breath. I slam the empty bottle down on top of the bar, indicating to the bartender for another.