Watching Mine
Page 5
“Fuck, woman,” Tegan mutters, rubbing his elbow that he knocked into the table behind him.
The news of Abby being pregnant doesn’t surprise me, but it does make me very happy for her. If anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s her.
“Congratulations.” I hold my hand out to Colt. He looks at it for a second, before reaching out and clasping it with a tight grip.
“Thanks.”
We both look over to Abby and Willow as they squeal like two high school girls. A smile touches my lips at how happy Abby looks. It’s all Colt’s doing. I may act like I don’t care for the guy, but I’m glad Abby has him.
After several moments, the girls quiet down and Willow goes back to her side of the table—this time to Tegan’s lap. From where I’m sitting, I’ve got a partial view of under the table. My eyes track the movement of Tegan’s hand high up on Willow’s thigh under her skirt.
“Has anyone talked to Ava lately?” Tegan asks, drawing my attention away from his wandering hand.
“She called me a few days ago to say she was going out of town,” Abby answers. “But I haven’t spoken to her since. I tried calling her a couple times yesterday, but she didn’t answer, or call me back. Just a vague text message saying she was busy.”
“I’m worried about her,” he states with a frown. “It’s not like her to just disappear like that.”
Out of the four of us, Ava and Tegan were always the closest to each other, while Abby was the closest with me.
“Have you tried her mom?” Willow suggests.
Tegan and I share a dark look, while Abby lets out a dry laugh. “Ava obviously hasn’t told you about her mom or you wouldn’t have asked that.”
She shakes her head. “She’s only said they don’t get along very well.”
That’s the fucking understatement of the year. Ava left home when she was sixteen because she couldn’t handle her mom or the men she brought around anymore. She was a drug addict whore who had a new man every other week. At ten, Ava was already sleeping with a padlock on the inside of her bedroom door to keep men out. I’ve never wanted to hit a woman in my life, but every time I hear mention of Ava’s mom, I seriously think about making an exception.
Tegan and Abby don’t know the full extent of what Ava went through growing up. She’s only told them bits and pieces. The neglect and physical abuse, not the sexual abuse from her mom’s men. It only happened a couple times before ten-year-old Abby stole a lock from the store and installed it herself. One of the two men who raped her as a child was a man she trusted. She said he had been around a lot longer than most of the other men and was really nice to her. She thought of him as her daddy. Until one night he snuck into her room, just like all the others. When she told her mom the next day, she accused Ava of trying to steal her boyfriend. At fucking ten years old. That was when she’d had enough and stole the lock.
The only reason I know is because I stopped by her house one day to pick something up for Abby and found a shit-faced Ava with bloody knuckles and a couple of holes in her wall. I made her sit down and tell me what happened. Apparently, her mom came to visit and Ava went ballistic when she left. I can’t really blame her for the anger that courses through her body when she has to think about that woman, let alone see her.
I think that’s why Ava prefers role playing. She likes to hide her true self as a means of protection. If men can’t see the real her, they can’t hurt her. It’s also why Ava is as tough as nails and will rip off the balls of any man who tries to fuck her over.
“What about that guy she was here with last week?” Abby asks. “What was his name?”
“Dylan,” I supply.
Abby snaps her fingers and points at me. “That’s right. Dylan. Do we know how to get in touch with him? Maybe he’s heard something.”
A waitress walks by, and Tegan, Colt, and I order a beer.
“Let’s give her a couple of days, and if we don’t hear from her, then we’ll worry,” I tell them.
Abby bites her lip, but nods. Tegan nods too, but I can tell he doesn’t like the idea of waiting. It’s not that I don’t care about Ava, but she’s a grown woman and is capable of taking care of herself. She’s allowed to disappear for a while if she wants, as long as she makes a reappearance soon.
A few minutes later, the waitress drops off our drinks, and I grab my beer.
“Hey, Nathan,” Tegan calls. I look over and find him looking behind me. “Isn’t that—” He stops midsentence, leans forward, causing Willow to lean with him, and squints. A big grin spreads across his face a second later, and his eyes flicker to me. “9B,” he finishes, then leans back in his chair.
My back straightens, and I whip my head around. My eyes tighten into slits as I look through the darkness of the room.
The place is packed with bodies. Some at tables, some standing around talking to others, some out on the dance floor. I look from one person to the next, seeking out the only person of interest to me.
It doesn’t take long before I find her. She’s out on the dance floor, facing me, with some guy standing behind her. His hands are on her hips as she slowly sways to the music. Her blonde hair is swept up high on her head. With her eyes closed, she’s resting her head back against the guy’s chest with her arms lifted and her hands tangled in his hair.
There’s about thirty feet separating us and it’s dark in the room, but I can still see the look of pleasure on her face. My dick, already at attention, grows thicker.