A small, triumphant smile spread across Bridget’s face. Between her and Jules, “annoying as hell” must be a requirement for Ava’s friends.
“Forget I said anything. You obviously don’t care,” she said.
“Just tell me,” I gritted out.
“Not unless you admit it.”
My blood pressure skyrocketed to alarming levels. I was this close to drop-kicking a princess, bodyguard be damned. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“For a supposed genius, you are dense.” Bridget somehow managed to look down her nose at me even though I was taller than her. “You didn’t hire someone to follow Ava all these months to protect her for no reason. To be clear, I despise you for what you did, and I don’t want her to forgive you. But I love her more than I hate you, and she hasn’t been the same since Philly.” A troubled expression crossed her face. “I didn’t say anything at first because I thought you didn’t care, but now that I know you do—don’t insult me by denying it again,” she said when I opened my mouth. “I may not have a MENSA-level IQ, but I’m not an idiot. I hate to admit it, but you’re the only person with any hope of getting through to her. I’ve tried, Jules and Stella have tried, Josh has tried hard as he can…but it’s not working.”
I suppressed a flinch at the mention of Josh’s name. “Ava’s fine. She’s healthy and thriving in school. She’s even swimming on her own now.”
There was no use pretending anymore. Bridget saw right through my bullshit.
“On the outside, Ava is fine,” she said. “Not on the inside. She’s…I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like she’s missing the spark that makes her her.”
I knew exactly what she meant, because I’d seen that spark die in front of my eyes.
I exhaled a ragged breath and tried to gather my swirling thoughts. They were usually crystal clear, each arranging themselves in the perfect pattern for me to analyze and strategize, but I’d barely slept over the past few months, and I hadn’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours. I was a mess.
I’d been a mess since I let Ava go.
“I don’t know if she’ll forgive you for what you did,” Bridget said. “Or if I want her to forgive you. But it’s not about me. It’s about her. Imagine how she must feel, finding out both her ‘father’ and her ‘boyfriend’ lied to her for so long—and finding these things out at practically the same time. She says she’s over it, but you don’t just ‘get over’ something like that.” She glared at me. “At least tell her your true feelings. She doesn’t trust herself right now, much less in love or other people. And an Ava who doesn’t trust or believe in love…well, that’s not really Ava, is it?”
My heart twisted into a knot that blocked the air from my lungs. “I can’t.”
“Why not? You care about her. Perhaps…” She paused, her face contemplative as she examined my tight jaw and rigid frame. “You even love her.”
“Get out.”
“You’re being a coward. I thought you weren’t afraid of anything, yet you’re afraid to tell her how you really feel—”
“Because she’s better off without me, okay?” I exploded, months of pent-up emotion bursting forth in one giant, scalding wave.
Rhys stepped forward, but Bridget waved him back, those blue eyes trained on me with fascination. I didn’t blame her. I’d never blown up like that in front of another person. Ever.
It was strangely cathartic.
“I couldn’t protect her. She was hurt because of me. My uncle kidnapped her because of me. And I couldn’t stop him.” I pressed my lips together, trying to calm my rampaging pulse.
Five months later, I still woke in the middle of the night, terrified something had happened to Ava. Envisioning all the things that could’ve happened to her had things gone sideways in my uncle’s office. That was why I’d hired the private investigator-slash-bodyguard—I couldn’t look after her myself without putting her in more danger, but I’d be damned if I left her defenseless and alone out there.
Of course, I needed to fire the guy for not keeping his mouth shut, but this was D.C. There were ex-military and ex-Secret Service types everywhere.
Bridget’s expression softened. “You saved her life.”
“I was the one who put her in that situation in the first place,” I said bitterly. “People around me always get hurt, and for all I have”—I swept my arm around my sprawling office—“I can’t guarantee their safety.” I raked a frustrated hand through my hair, glad my office was soundproof and surrounded by tinted glass. The last thing I needed was for my staff to see me lose my shit.
“Nothing in life is guaranteed, but you’re Alex Volkov. Your uncle caught you off guard because he was your uncle, but now that he’s out of the picture, do you really think anyone else can get the jump on you?” Bridget shook her head. “If you do, then maybe it is best you stay away from Ava. Like I said, I despise what you did to her, but I also believe you love her—even if you’re too stubborn or stupid to see it—”
“I have an IQ of 160,” I said, insulted.
“Intellectual intelligence doesn’t equal emotional intelligence,” she retorted. “And do not interrupt a princess. It’s terrible etiquette. As I was saying, you’re too stubborn or stupid to see it, and now it’s too late.”
I paused, letting her words sink in. Dread uncoiled at the pit of my stomach. “Explain.”
Bridget and Rhys exchanged glances before she responded in a wary tone. “Ava’s moving to London. She switched her fellowship location. Her plane leaves in”—she checked the clock—“an hour.”
London. Another city, another country, another continent. She would be thousands of miles away from me.
Fuck. That.
The dread turned into full-blown panic. “Flight info,” I snarled.
“I don’t know.”
I wanted to strangle her. I didn’t care that Rhys was packing heat and looked ready to tackle me if I so much as twitched the wrong way.
“I swear to God, Bridget—”