Age of Ava (Vested Interest - ABC Corp 4)

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Hunter

I sat up slowly, trying not to groan. My room was dark, and a breeze coming in the window felt good on my skin. Cash raised his head, looking at me, then with a huff, lay back down. I wondered what day it was. Time had ceased having much meaning. It felt as if it had been months since I’d left the hospital, even though I knew it had only been a matter of a couple of weeks. I rolled my shoulder, still feeling the tweak of pain from the healing injury. I tested my ankle, grateful to be out of the boot, even though the limb continued to protest when I walked. I still relied on the crutch a great deal of time. The cuts and bruises were healing thanks to whatever stuff Ava insisted on rubbing on them daily. The worst part was the ribs. They would be the slowest thing to heal and caused me the most pain. Any sudden movement, any unexpected cough or sneeze, caused a vortex of pain I had never experienced before. The doctor told me I was lucky that a rib hadn’t pierced my lungs or done further injury. That I should be grateful I hadn’t done permanent damage to my spine. He had lectured me about being on the roof and cautioned me about wearing safety equipment. Ava seemed pleased at my dressing-down, but it was nothing compared to her lecture once she took me back to her house and got me settled. I knew it was brewing in the car on the way to her place and braced myself for when she blew.

It started off calmly enough.

“So, while we’re on the subject, why did you choose to go on the roof on such a rainy day?”

I lifted my eyebrows. I hadn’t been aware we were on that subject. Or any subject, really, since she hadn’t spoken to me since we left the hospital.

“I needed a distraction.”

Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “And you thought the best distraction was to climb a ladder during the rain and nail down tarps on a slippery roof?”

“It wasn’t raining when I went up. It was a fast job—or at least it was supposed to be. I didn’t want the water seeping into the house again.”

“And God forbid you ask for help. Call my brothers, who offered. Because asking for help makes people think you need them, and you can’t have that—right, Hunter?”

There was no mistaking the anger in her voice. I chose to ignore the last part of her sentence.

“I really didn’t think I needed any help. Fifteen minutes, job done. I didn’t expect to fall. I’ve done things a lot more dangerous than that.”

That was the wrong thing to say. She slammed her hands on her hips and didn’t stop talking for ten minutes. I let her talk, knowing she needed to get it out. I listened to her lecture about safety on the jobsite. Never working on projects alone. The precautions her company insisted on taking with every crew member. She knew what she was talking about. I agreed with her on all points—which only seemed to make her angrier.

“I agree with you. It was stupid. But I didn’t plan on falling.”

“I didn’t plan on finding you covered in blood and unconscious either,” she snapped.

I held out my hand. “Come here, Little Dragon.”

“No,” she refused.

“Please.”

“I’m not finished.”

I crooked my fingers. “Please.”

When she was close enough, I took her hands and pulled her down beside me on the bed. She sat gingerly, always concerned about causing me pain by jostling me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you, and I know I did. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I shouldn’t have been on the roof. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. Trust me, I’m paying for it. But you can’t keep being mad.”

She sniffled a little. “I want to kick your ass so bad.”

I slipped my fingers under her chin. “When I’m healed, I’ll let you. Until then, what can I do to make it up?”

She looked away, then stood. “If I can’t be mad, you can’t be mad either.”

“Why would I be mad?”

She took a deep breath. “I picked up your permit and sent a crew to your house to do the work.”

I gaped at her. “What?”

“You can’t do it. Not now, not in a few weeks. You were going to hire an outside company to do some work. I hired us on your behalf. Van is overseeing it.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, waiting for the fight.

I waited for my explosion of anger. For the words to fly from my mouth that would hurt her. To deny her the assistance we both knew I required.

But nothing came. There was a strange relief in knowing I wouldn’t have to face the roof before I was ready. To climb a ladder before my leg was strong and my ribs healed. An odd sensation flooded my chest. I felt cared for. Seen. It was as if Ava somehow knew my worries and simply took care of them.