HOUSE OF CARDS
Chapter Four
The second Ava stepped foot inside her uncle's house and surveyed the loud music, smoky air, wide assortment of dirty wife beaters, shaved heads, and chilling swastika tattoos, she knew she was completely screwed. She was already feeling a little like a child in the middle of a custody battle, being ushered from one parent's house to the next. Except she was the one who'd lost custody of herself…she felt completely helpless as she was unceremoniously escorted inside the house by one of her uncle's men. She hadn't yet learned any of their names and she planned on keeping it that way. Her wardrobe definitely wasn't helping. Her uncle had basically told her, under no uncertain terms, that she would be gravely sorry if she did not show up to this little get-together "appropriately" dressed.
Apparently, "appropriate dress" meant looking like a hooker. Not wanting to risk the threat she'd read in her uncle's demands, she had decided to oblige him and not cut any corners. So she bit the bullet and pulled out the tightest knit tube dress she could find in her closet…it was the same one she'd worn for Halloween a few years before when she'd went as a French call-girl. She was even wearing the same four-inch red high heels she'd worn to complete the costume too, which, she figured was appropriate now given the circumstances.
She needed the costume tonight too. On some level, it was almost a blessing in disguise to have to be dressed this way. It was easier to block out where she was since she really wasn't going as herself tonight. Now all she needed was a mask and she'd feel much better. The main problem with this particular dress was that the knitting was so tight it constantly started to ball up at her hips, making an already short dress all the more slutty—she subconsciously tugged it down a little bit as she walked deeper into the house, feeling like her ass-cheeks were showing. Of course, this hadn't been an issue the last time she'd worn this dress; it was Halloween and she'd been too drunk to really care. Tonight, however, getting drunk would only magnify her problems. She needed to be completely on her game if she was going to find a way to get herself out of this in one piece.
She'd barely gotten into the middle of the living room when she came face to face with her uncle, who was appraising her wardrobe choices with cold, black eyes. The sick feeling in her stomach just barely edged out the lump in her throat and she found herself gripping her clutch a little bit tighter to relieve the building panic.
"Glad to see you showed up," her uncle sneered as he gripped her elbow. "I'm sure Miles will appreciate that dress—nice work. It's good to see you playing it smart here, Ava. I'd hate to think what would happen if you didn't."
Despite the heaving in her chest, she somehow managed to force a smile at him. She wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he scared the shit out of her.
"Miles is right around the corner," he was saying now. "Keep him happy tonight, alright?"
She nodded slowly, trying desperately to mask her sheer panic as her eyes darted around the room, searching for anyone or anything that could potentially stall her but there was nothing. She had no friends here. But as her eyes wandered the room, she was grateful that, if anything, she was here and not Allie. She knew better than to call her uncle's bluff—the risk was far too great.
When her uncle pushed her roughly towards the kitchen, her heart sank to her stomach. The only thing she could do to stall was walk as slowly as possible and for the first time, she really appreciated those four-inch heels. As she slinked into the kitchen, she purposefully stood on the opposite side in an effort to prolong Eric from realizing she was there.
Someone passed her a beer and she slowly slid her fingers around the cold bottle even though she had no intention of actually drinking it. All she needed to do was keep the show up for long enough to satisfy her uncle then he would forget she was even there. An opening to get the hell out of here would present itself; she just had to patient and do everything in her power not to panic.
Unfortunately, it only took Eric a few beats for her presence to register. He strode over to her with that over-confident, smug swagger that made her want to punch him. As his eyes travelled up and down the length of her body, it made her skin crawl and she subconsciously tugged her dress down a little more. A long, tattooed arm snaked its way around her shoulders before she had time to do anything to stop it. The only thing she could come up with in retaliation was a refusal to make eye contact with him. Maybe, she thought fleetingly, if she just kept ignoring him, he would go away.
"Ava…" he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Look at me."
At this point, stalling was only going to take her so far. A moment later, cold fingers were on her chin and forced her neck to the left until she met him straight-on in the eye.
"I don't know why you're makin' this so hard on me," Eric continued, his eyes momentarily distraught. "I've been nothin' but good to you. I've been tryin' to be patient…all I want to do is talk to you about it."
She couldn't speak she was so floored by words. Was he really that delusional? Did he really think they were in some sort of sick, unconsummated relationship? What the hell had she gotten herself into?
"I…um…" she was grasping at straws here and at the same time, had no idea what he wanted from her.
"Look, Ava, why don't we go out on the patio and talk? We can work this out…"
It was all she could do to keep herself from shaking her head and tearing away from him. There was nothing to talk about. There was no 'we'—but she couldn't say that to him. If her uncle was unpredictable, Eric Miles was just as much a ticking time bomb. She needed to tread lightly here and keep him from setting off—but there was no way she was going out on that patio with him alone.
"I'm fine in here, Eric," she replied quietly.
He frowned slightly and her entire body started to tense under his arm. "It's quieter out there; there's hardly any people…come on, we'll actually be able to talk."
"Yeah but…" she racked her mind for something, anything. "It's cold out there. I think I'd rather stay in here if that's alright with you but yeah…let's talk."
That seemed to appease him. She'd gotten her way but so had he. His eyes seemed to glaze over and a moment later, she felt a hand graze her ass then squeeze so hard it hurt.
"Hey!" She jerked out of his grasp and pushed him roughly in the chest.
His hands automatically shot up and he barked out a cackling, hounding laugh. She swallowed nervously at the sparking glint in his eye and tried to struggle out of his hold as he pulled her back towards him.
"I'm sorry," Eric murmured hotly into her ear. "I'm sorry…too fast, huh? I figured you'd be like that. It's okay, Ava…I'll settle tonight, don't worry."
She saw no need to press him for elaboration. His hands were on her neck now and she could feel his hot breath sticking against her ear. A few more shaky inhales and she knew she would be stumbling into panic mode. She needed to stay in survival mode here…panicking wasn't going to help her now. There had to be a way to get away from him without him questioning or forcing her to stay.
Before she could blink again, a pair of chapped, coarse lips was pressing into hers. There was nothing appealing or romantic in his kiss—she wanted to vomit right into his face. Of course, her mood and her feelings were getting zero attention here and his hard lips kept moving against her even though she hadn't given him the satisfaction of any sort of reaction.
When a hand travelled up the length of her thigh, across her stomach, and closed around her breast, she had had enough. Having no other way to reason with him, she brought a hand gently to cover the offending one, linked his fingers with hers, and smiled shyly up at him as she lifted his hand off her. She could play this game—the shy virginal girlfriend. Even if she couldn't keep it up for long, it would at least work for tonight.
"What?" he asked roughly.
"I need to use the bathroom," she grinned back at him. "I'll be right back, okay?"
She waited patiently for the reaction she needed to send her towards the sanctuary of the bathroom. Her chest was heaving as she walked as slowly as possible down the hallway and quickly closed the bathroom door behind her. Luckily, she'd managed to make it down the hallway without sliding even further into what she already feared was the onset of a debilitating panic attack. No…she couldn't let that happen. She just needed some time to think.
With the door safely locked, she backed away until her hands rested on the sink. A few deep breaths; that was all she needed to figure this out. She had maybe five, ten minutes tops before Eric or her uncle or both would come knocking on this door so she had to think fast. She started tapping on the counter as she stared at herself in the mirror. Come on, she thought to herself, think…there's gotta be something. Maybe she could make a beeline for the front door—the patio was out; there was no way Eric wouldn't see her if she tried.
As she took in her appearance in the mirror, the irony of this situation was not lost on her at all. She certainly looked the part tonight—she easily fit right in with the other girls mingling around the house and she knew she'd fit right in at Samcro's clubhouse too. No one would bat an eye. If she was in the clubhouse and Jax was the one holding her, kissing her, touching her, she wouldn't be hiding in a bathroom right now, even though she had a feeling Jax wouldn't have been quite as aggressive, at least not right out in the open.
But she was here. At a Nord party, with a high-ranking Nord member who was probably going to have sex with her tonight whether she wanted to or not if she didn't get out of this situation. Jax's worried eyes, his trembling hands, and his soft, concerned voice flashed through her mind and she wanted to laugh at how right he'd been. She did need someone she could turn to. She did need someone she could call if she got in trouble but what would happen if she called Jax right now? What could he really do to help her?
She could already see it…Jax riding up on his Harley and parking it right in her uncle's driveway, him bursting into the house and checking every room until he found her—then what? Would he carry her out? Take her back to the clubhouse? It was all so ridiculous she couldn't help but laugh. None of that was going to be happening tonight. The only way she was getting out of this house was if she got herself out.
A wave of panic set in as she realized just how dire this situation really was…if she went back out there, she wouldn't be able to get away so easily again. Eric wasn't going to continue to allow her bathroom breaks like that, at least not long enough so that she could formulate a new plan. Her chest was heaving and tears sprung in her eyes. She was so fucked…no…she couldn't cry. Once she was safely in her own bed in her pajamas, then she could cry about the bullet she'd dodged tonight but not before.
Her head turned for a second and then there was nothing in the room but the window to her left. The room had closed in on her so quickly she hadn't been able to see that what she was looking for was right in front of her. There was no time to waste here and she breathed a silent of prayer of thanks that she was able to get the window open.
The drop didn't seem too bad, maybe six or seven feet. She could do it—she was going to have to because she didn't see any other options. Grabbing her clutch off the counter, she carefully ducked under the frame and swung a leg out, then the other until she tumbled into the landscaping below. Her stupid heel caught in the pebbles, thwarting any attempt at an injury-free landing she could've had and her ankle twisted violently as her knees collided with the grass. Her hand immediately shot out to clutch the throbbing ankle but adrenaline pushed her to her feet and propelled her limping through the neighboring backyard, stopping just long enough to slide those stupid heels off.
Her ankle was killing her but she just had to keep moving. She had no car, thanks to her uncle, but if she just made herself move forward, she'd figure it out—maybe she could call a cab? The limping was only getting worse and each step sent more shooting pain up her leg than the one before it but she pushed herself further down the street behind her uncle's house. She knew that the further she got, the more chance she would have at really getting away tonight. The houses seemed to all blur together and now she was just blindly limping forward from one street to the next until sheer panic began to set in.
She had no idea where she was.
Clutching her heels to her chest, she narrowly avoided the glass on the sidewalk as she stumbled down the end of the street. The street names weren't familiar to her at all and to her horror, she realized that she'd been so focused on moving that she hadn't paid attention to the fact that she was moving in a neighborhood of Charming she didn't know. She didn't even know if she could get back to her uncle's house if she tried and if that was true, there was no way she'd be able to find her own house.
With a shaky breath, she stumbled backwards in a haze of adrenaline, terror, and panic—her chest was beginning to tighten and suddenly, she couldn't get any air into her lungs. Her breath was coming in and out too quickly and the pain in her chest and in her ankle seemed to intensify exponentially by the second.
She was dressed like a hooker in a bad neighborhood she didn't know with a sprained ankle. Fuck my life, she thought bitterly. Fuck it completely. She sank down into the grass and dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders beginning to tremble—she wasn't sure if it was because she was cold or if it was because she was scared. Maybe it was a little bit of both.
Before she could think twice, her freezing fingers were digging inside her purse for her phone. It took her a few moments to find Jax's number and her index finger lingered over the send button as she contemplated the possible outcomes here. He could answer and tell her he was busy. Or he could answer and bring her home. Or he could ignore her call altogether. Shaking her head, she realized the outcome didn't matter anymore. This was the only card she had left to play.
So she hit the send button and waited. And waited. And waited. A generic message played at the end and she quickly ended the call before the beep sounded. That was so stupid. What was she expecting? Of course he wouldn't answer. It was a Friday night and he was busy—probably some place where he couldn't hear his phone even if he wanted to. She was completely screwed now. Alone on an unfamiliar street in an unfamiliar part of town at one in the morning. Dressed like a hooker.
It was then that she finally surrendered and hung her head, her entire body racked with sobs.
"I can't wait to see you kick that guy's ass tomorrow, Jax," Wendy purred into his ear. She had one hand wrapped around his neck and the other rubbing him teasingly on the outside of his jeans. Good thing he knew she wasn't really as much of a cock-tease as she was playing at right now.
"I'm just lookin' forward to getting taken care of by you afterwards, darlin'," he murmured back to her.
She giggled and nuzzled his neck with a flick of her tongue—it was a little annoying and she'd been fucking doing that all night. But, to be fair, he hadn't really given her any signs pointing to his true feelings about her signature move. In the grand scheme of things, it didn't really matter anyways. If he got sick of her and pushed her away, there was always another one waiting in the wings to take her place. There was no shortage of pussy in the clubhouse tonight and if Wendy didn't do it for him, some other croweater would.
"Yo, bro!" Tig called from the other side of the pool table. "You're up."
Jax grinned down at Wendy and untangled his arm from around her shoulders. She was clearly half in the bag and not entirely from alcohol either but that had never really bothered him. What she did on her free time and before she walked into the clubhouse was of little concern to him—just as long as she never brought that shit into the clubhouse or around him. She was looking up at him now with those big pouty lips and he grinned when he thought about the last time he'd been that close to her lips. Ah, Wendy…she never failed him. Always so ready and willing.
"Come on, Jax!" Opie shook his head. "Let's go…some of us don't have all day over here."
Jax held his hands up as he took a drag from his cigarette and pulled himself up from the booth. "Alright, alright…Jesus, Ope."
He grabbed the cue stick from Opie's outstretched hand and ignored the death glare he was currently receiving from his best friend. It wasn't like he was intentionally holding up the game. Besides, it wasn't his fault Opie had promised his wife he'd be home after one more game of pool with the guys. With a sideways grin at the glowering ogre to his left, he decided to take his time lining up the shot. Ope just made it too easy…his phone vibrated in his pocket but he was just having too much fun right now—whoever was trying to call him could wait a few more minutes.
"Any time now, Jax," Opie muttered with a shake of his head.
Jax just shrugged and sprung the cue stick out to connect with the striped three ball, bouncing it easily into the closest pocket. This time, though, he didn't waste any time lining up his second shot and quickly bounced the cue ball off the curb and towards the five ball, just narrowly missing the pocket. With a grimace, he handed the cue stick back to Tig, who was grinning back at him triumphantly.
He'd barely stepped back from the table and Wendy had already positioned herself underneath his arm again. His phone vibrated once in his back pocket as a friendly reminder and he abruptly dug it out, despite Wendy making it difficult for him to maneuver around her grip. Flipping it open, he frowned at the unfamiliar number. Who the hell would be calling him right now at one in the morning anyways? He almost ignored it completely and snapped it shut, getting it about halfway back into his pocket before he thought better of it. This was going to nag at him for the rest of the night if he didn't figure out who had called. One possibility shot through his mind and that was all the convincing he needed.
After immediately unwinding his arm from around Wendy's shoulders, he stepped back until he had a clear shot towards the clubhouse's front door. Wendy was staring up at him with her wide, dilated black pupils and he knew she was too far gone to really be all that confused. She was lucky if she was coherent enough to realize where she was. A quick glance back at the pool table told him his absence would go unnoticed for a few minutes and he took that as his opportunity to back pedal towards the front door.
As soon as the cool air hit his face, he redialed the missed call and took a long drag from the cigarette at his lips while he waited. After a few rings, the phone picked up and he felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sound of the voice on the other end.
"Jax?" Her voice was shaky and breathless, like she'd been either running or crying and he realized with a heavy heart that it was probably both.
"Ava?"
"I'm sorry for calling you…" she sniffled. "I didn't think you'd call back…"
Her voice was so muted, so desperate…he abruptly threw his cigarette to the ground and ran a hand over his mouth.
"Ava, what's wrong? Are you alright?"
"I…" he could tell she was struggling to get a hold of herself but she couldn't mask that she'd started to cry even harder. "I was running away from the house but I don't know where I am…I don't know if I can still walk..."
The more she spoke, the more it seemed like she was losing control and all he heard was her breath coming in and out sharply through the phone.
"What street are you on?"
"Um…Fifth and Sullivan."
"Just sit tight, okay, Ava? I'm comin' to get you—I'll be there in about ten minutes, okay?"
The words just tumbled out of him before he could stop them-it was sheer impulse and completely reactionary. He'd told her she could call him if she needed help and while he hadn't really expected her to actually take him up on his offer, there was no way he could go back inside the clubhouse now and pretend like this phone call had never happened. He lingered outside the clubhouse for a moment as he weighed telling someone he was leaving—and then he realized he was wasting time and that Ava was sitting outside in one of the shittiest neighborhoods in Charming, lost and alone, at one in the morning. If he didn't get his ass over there soon, it wouldn't be long before someone else found her. He could figure out an excuse for leaving later.
As he sped through town, it was difficult not to think about what was potentially waiting for him on the corner of Fifth and Sullivan. He tried to keep his mind focused on the positive here—she was able to make a phone call so that was a good sign, right? If he let himself think about what had sent her running out of Darby's house…he might decide to take a detour instead and that wasn't going to help Ava.
He could see her sitting in the grass in between the curb and the sidewalk, her arms crossed down on her knees in front of her and she was leaning her head down—he could see her shoulders heaving even as he approached. Her head lifted at the sound of his bike and he felt his heart lurch at the sight of the black streaks running down her cheeks. She wiped furiously at her face as he parked his bike right across from her. The second his feet were on the ground he was striding over to her, immediately alarmed when she struggled to get off the grass.
Grasping hold of both her hands, he gently pulled her to her feet and took a quick appraisal of her face, blowing out a sigh of relief. As far as he could tell, there weren't any cuts or bruises on her face which was a good sign. Without thinking, he brought a hand to her face and wiped a stray tear with his thumb. Her chest was still heaving but she looked a little less panicked than she had a few seconds ago.
"You okay?" he asked hoarsely.
She nodded and tried to take a step closer to the curb but her face twisted up in a grimace as she bent down to grab her ankle.
"What happened, Ava?"
"I jumped out the window." She murmured, still bending down with a wince.
A laugh rumbled up in his chest and he shook his head in disbelief. "You jumped out a window?"
Gone was the desperation and helplessness in her eyes—they were dancing now as her lips broke out into a grin.
"Yeah," she laughed. "I did—I fuckin' twisted my ankle in the landing though. I definitely didn't help myself by running as far as I could without knowing where the hell I was going."
"But other than a busted ankle, you're still in one piece though, right?"
She nodded with a deep exhale. "Yeah, I think so."
"Okay," he had both hands on her shoulders now to steady her. "Let's get you home—you know what street you live on or am I gonna be driving around aimlessly all night too?"
She laughed and, in spite of the situation, swatted him playfully in the shoulder—a sure sign that she wasn't too worse for the wear. As he eased her over to his bike, he got his first real eyeful of her outfit and, in any other circumstances, he would normally be extremely turned on by the tight black dress that was so short he could practically see her underwear but instead, he was just confused.
He gently swung her around so he could lift her onto his bike, his hands resting carefully on her hips as she settled into the seat. As he hopped on in front of her, he jumped a little when she wrapped her hands around his waist and leaned into his back. He could feel her chest still heaving against him and after she murmured her address into his ear, he sped off to get her the hell out of there.
Ava was just thankful she'd had the foresight to tell Jax to pull into the street directly behind her house. The entire ride she'd clung to his waist like a lifeline and as she nestled into the cool leather on his back, she completely forgot where she'd been just minutes before and what had almost happened. It was almost like it had never happened at all. The moment his thumb wiped the tears from her cheek, everything instantly calmed. The shaky breath, the heaving chest, the racking sobs…it was all over and she knew it was her body's way of telling her she was safe now. She didn't even care that the wind around her was freezing and just leaned into him more for warmth.
When Jax parked his bike on the street directly behind her house, part of her wished they could just go around the block a few more times. She'd never ridden on a motorcycle before but she knew enough about the MC culture to know that it usually meant something when a club member had a woman on the back of his bike—that position was typically reserved for old ladies and wives. As much as that knocked her off-balance, it didn't take away the thrill of the wind in her hair, the vibration beneath her, and the feel of his hard muscles in front of her. The experience itself was nothing short of intimate and she understood why club members didn't give random rides to just anyone—there was meaning behind it. Given the circumstances, she doubted if she'd ever really get the chance to do this again.
She waited as Jax swung his leg over the side and then held both hands out to help her ease off the bike. Sliding her hand into his calloused left one and clutching her heels with her other, she wobbled a little on her unsteady feet. She had to favor her injured ankle and a few beats later, a hand shot out to her waist to make sure she didn't completely lose her footing.
"Whoa," he murmured lowly. "Careful now, darlin'—I gotta get you in that house in one piece still."
His hands lingered on her waist for a moment as he watched her attempt a step towards her house. When she faltered, he swooped down, gathered her legs in his arms, and started moving onto the grass. She hadn't realized her arms had instinctively wrapped themselves around his neck until he turned his head to grin at her triumphantly—she didn't need him to carry her.
"Jax!" Her voice muffled into the shoulder of his cut as she struggled against him. "Put me down…I can walk, okay?"
"You sure about that, Ava? 'Cause your limping is paintin' a different story," he smirked down at her.
"I just need a little help…not that much help," she whispered loudly. "Besides, I think you're enjoying yourself a little too much and I've already had enough of that tonight if that's alright with you."
She hadn't meant it to come out as testy or ungrateful as it sounded—it wasn't him who'd caused this tonight and she definitely wasn't ungrateful. Remorse, sadness, and a little disappointment crossed his face in a matter of seconds and she immediately regretted both her words and her tone. Shit…all he was trying to do here was help her and this was how she repaid him?
"I'm sorry, Jax," she attempted but he had already set her gently back down on her feet.
"Don't worry about it," he murmured back to her. "Let's just get you inside and then you'll tell me what happened, right?"
She nodded slowly, a little unsure what to make of his cloudy eyes and jumped a little when his hand slid around her waist to steady her. With his arm around her and her leaning against his shoulder, they were able to slowly but surely amble through her neighbor's backyard and up to her back porch. He released her just enough so that she could pry the patio door open and they stepped through together.
"You leave your back door open a lot, Ava?" His concerned and confused voice echoed through the kitchen.
"I thought I might have to make a discreet entry tonight…so I left it open just in case." She replied quietly. The fact that she had planned for this—not necessarily Jax bringing her home—the clean, stealthy getaway and the assumption that her uncle might have a car waiting across her street was a hard dose of reality that she didn't really need right now.
"Maybe it's better if you keep the lights off for awhile then. Where's Allie?" He had ventured a little deeper into her kitchen as he spoke and she was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that he was in her house.
She shrugged as she dropped her clutch on the table in front of her. "She's away from all this shit—she's at a friend's house tonight."
She could see him nodding even in the darkness and frowned when he opened her freezer door. He rifled through it for a few moments and then he ducked around the door as it shut behind him, an ice tray in his hand. He gestured towards the counter, signaling to her that he expected her to hop up there. That might be a little bit of a challenge but her pride wouldn't allow her to rely on him for that kind of support tonight. She had to do something on her own.
By the time she hobbled over to the counter, he had turned back to her with a bag full of ice wrapped in a kitchen towel…how he had managed to find all that in such a short time was beyond her. Summoning up the last remnants of adrenaline she had left, she gritted her teeth and struggled to hoist herself up. In a flash, both of his hands were on her waist and propelling her hips up onto the counter. She had to swallow at the feel of his hands on her…a little over an hour before, she'd been recoiling at Eric's touch but now, she couldn't get enough of Jax's. When his hands slid down her waist and skimmed her bare legs, she couldn't stop herself from shivering. He lifted up her left leg to prop it against his hip and gingerly held the ice against her swollen ankle.
"Can I ask you something, Ava?" His hoarse voice broke her out of her revelry.
She smiled softly at him, their eyes level and she felt her heart tighten in her chest. "Sure."
"What are you wearin'?"
Her head tilted back as she laughed but she still noticed that he was slowly inching closer to coming in between her legs. "A Halloween costume."
His eyebrows shot into his forehead and a low rumble sounded from his chest as he laughed with her. "What?"
"I wore this a couple years ago to a Halloween party," she shrugged. "I was a French call girl; I even had a little beret and a phone in my hand too just for good measure."
"So, basically, you're tellin' me you went to one of Darby's parties dressed in a hooker costume?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
"Well," he leaned back a little just so he could get a better look at her. "You wear it well, darlin'."
"It seemed appropriate for the circumstances."
He shifted the ice around and she winced when he accidentally pressed the bag into her ankle a little too hard. He glanced back up at her apologetically and as she stared back at him, her breath caught in her throat—this hardened outlaw biker, who she had no doubt had killed before, was standing in her kitchen and icing her sprained ankle. That, combined with the way he was looking at her now, was enough to send her reeling.
"So what happened, Ava?" He asked quietly.
She took in a shaky breath but his encouraging eyes gave her the strength she needed and she wanted to tell him—she owed him that much after what he'd done for her tonight.
"Eric was…touching me…" his jaw tightened at her words but she kept going. "He was kissing me and then he grabbed me…I told him I had to go to the bathroom and I think I sat there for at least ten minutes just freaking out. I knew if I went back out there that he wasn't going to stop—my uncle told me I had to keep him happy tonight…then I saw the window."
He was silent for a few moments and she wasn't sure which was worse—the waiting or the somber, agonized look on his face.
"I'm glad you called me," he murmured hoarsely.
"I didn't know what else to do...thank you for coming to get me and, well, for everything."
It didn't accurately portray how she felt but that was the best she could do. The longer he stood in her kitchen, holding her injured foot against his hip with an ice bag, looking back at her with those shimmering blues eyes that seemed to cut right through her, the more she wanted to just melt into him.
He chose not to respond and rotated the ice around her ankle.
"I still have no idea how I ended up in that neighborhood of all places," she felt like she was just talking now to fill the space between them. "I just kept moving…"
She didn't know what else to say now and his silence was becoming increasingly deafening. His fingers brushed against her cooled ankle and started to absentmindedly slide up her calf, inducing a sharp intake of breath. She'd be lying to herself if she said she hadn't secretly thought about what it feel like for him to touch her—she hadn't anticipated his rough, calloused hands but the sensation made her reflexively close her eyes as she savored this moment. Part of her wished he didn't have to leave her tonight.
"Ava?" His hoarse voice echoed through the kitchen and she jumped at the sound. "Can I ask you a question?"
She nodded silently.
He seemed to be struggling for words and the crease in his forehead deepened as his swallowed slowly. "If you knew something was gonna go down tonight—holing out in the bathroom, leaving your back door open…why did you still go?"
She blew out a deep breath and lowered her eyes; for some reason, she just couldn't look him in the eye right then.
"He said I owed it to him after what I told Deputy Hale," the guilt that flashed across his face immediately sent her into damage control mode. "This isn't your fault, Jax. If the bar fight hadn't happened, he would've found some other excuse and I knew what I was signing myself up for when I came back to Charming. But hey, I've gotten away twice already; I can do it again, right?"
"Maybe."
He didn't need to say anymore for her to know what he was thinking: these quick escapes were only going to be possible for so long. What would she do when her luck ran out? It didn't pay for her to dwell on that now; she'd gotten away scot-free tonight, albeit a minor injury, but that was nothing compared to what could have happened.
A moment later, she felt his cool fingers on her face as he gingerly lowered her ankle down and now his other hand rested on her bare thigh. He had subtly edged closer in between her legs and her breath came in a rush when she realized what was happening. He bent down until his lips brushed against hers like he was exploring uncharted territory and when her lips parted, he descended with a hunger that sent her reeling. The hand on her thigh skimmed up to her hip, wrapping itself around her waist as he stepped deeper in between her legs. At this point, her dress had balled so far up her hips that all he would've had to do was just glance down to get an eyeful of everything but she was past the point of caring. Her hand wound around his neck and tangled in his hair when his tongue danced inside her mouth.
His arms tightened around her, pulling her against his chest and her legs wrapped around his waist to draw him in deeper. Then he abruptly pulled his head back—and a wave of loss and confusion struck her as she tried make sense of what he was doing but when he shrugged out of his cut and tossed it next to her, she met him halfway, their lips collided back together. A beat later, her hands skimmed underneath his T-shirt and then pulled it over his head. His bare chest was even more heart-stuttering up close and personal and she couldn't stop herself from trailing a hand lightly down the middle of it.
He closed his eyes as her fingers explored his hard muscles and then he was grinning down at her with a wolfish glint that made her pull him back down to her waiting mouth. As he lifted her off the counter and hoisted her into his arms, she wrapped her legs around him, their lips never breaking away from each other.
"Down the hall on the right," she whispered against his lips and he started shuffling them towards her bedroom.
They had almost made it all the way down the hall and his hands were gloriously gripped on her hips, shoving his fingers around her underwear—when the front door opened five feet in front of them. Allie stood in the doorway gaping at them, her eyes bulging out of her head as Jax hastily dropped Ava back down to her feet. Her long forgotten ankle sprain came back to rear its ugly head when she landed a little too roughly back on her heel and Jax reflexively snuck an arm around her waist to steady her, pulling her against his bare chest.
"Uh…um…" Allie stuttered, still standing in the open doorway. "I, uh, tried to call you but you didn't answer…hey, Jax."
Jax waved sheepishly. "Hey, Allie…I was, uh, just leavin'."
She arched an eyebrow back at them and a sly grin crept across her face. "Sure you were."
He tried to smile back at her but it ended up turning into a grimace more than anything. Ava stood frozen in the hallway as Jax backpedalled down the hallway and into the kitchen. She ran a hand over her face and begrudgingly cast a look at her cousin's shit-eating grin before groaning as she limped back into the kitchen.
Jax already had his T-shirt and cut back on by the time she hobbled over to him and he was blowing out a deep breath as he ran a hand through his tangled hair when he glanced back at her. A slow, lazy grin curved up on his lips as he leaned back against the counter she'd been sitting on minutes before.
"I'm sorry," she gestured back towards the hallway with a weak laugh.
He pushed himself off the counter and closed the distance between them with two quick strides. His fingers brushed against her cheek and then he was leaning down to press a hard kiss into her lips.
"Don't worry about it, darlin'," he murmured in her ear. "It's too bad we had to cut our evening short—I was enjoying every second of it."
She laughed in spite of the heat rushing up into her cheeks and bit her lip when his hand skimmed across her hip as he stepped back towards the patio door.
"Hey, you gonna be at the fight tomorrow?" His eyes were glinting back at her, even in the moonlight radiating from the patio.
"I'm assuming I'm going to be required to make an appearance," she replied quietly with a small smile.
"Good," his lips curved into that sexy lop-sided grin that was quickly becoming her downfall.
"Kick his ass, alright?"
"You got it, darlin'," his grin only seemed to grow wider. "I'll look for ya…hey, lock this door behind me, alright?"
She nodded and waved as he stepped into her moonlit backyard. "Bye, Jax—thanks again…for everything tonight."
"Wouldn't have missed it for the world, Ava," he called out softly to her from the grass. "Bye, darlin'."
She waved shyly again, flipping the lock as he'd requested and fought the urge to just stand there and watch him retreat into her neighbor's yard. When she turned back, she yelped out in surprise as she came face to face with a grinning Allie.
"So…," Allie started slowly. "You met up with Jax, huh? Is that why you kicked me out of your house tonight?"
Ava ran a hand over her face and winced. "Allie—"
"What were you guys planning on doing tonight, huh? Wait, I know—you were just about to give him a tour of your bedroom. I knew there was a reason why his shirt was off…" The shit-eating grin still hadn't wiped off her face and her arms were crossed triumphantly in front of her.
"You can't tell anyone he was here…you know that, right?" It was suddenly imperative that Allie understood the seriousness of this situation—she didn't want to think about what would happen if her uncle should somehow get wind of this.
"Yeah, I know," Allie shrugged. "I'm not stupid, you know. How did all that happen anyways? I thought you didn't even like him…not like that was very believable but…"
Ava sighed and closed her eyes for a brief moment to gather herself. Too much had happened tonight for her to process all this in one sitting. "It's a long story. I needed a ride; he came to get me and brought me back here. One thing led to another and I guess you know the rest."
"Saw it is more like it," her cousin shot back smugly. "I'm so jealous of you right now it's not even funny."
If only Allie knew that night she'd had, she would probably feel differently about that statement. But she supposed, on some level, Allie had a point. She'd just had Jax Teller in her house, shirtless, and carrying her to her bedroom—that was nothing to complain about. There was little doubt in her mind what would've happened had Allie not made her ill-timed entrance into the house and she still needed time to wrap her head around that.
"But seriously, though," Ava stressed. "Please don't tell anyone—it could be really bad for all of us if your dad knew he was even here, let alone that—"
"You almost did the dirty with him?" Allie cut in lightly. "Look—I get it, okay? I know about all that stuff with Samcro and my dad…you sure you wanna be getting in the middle of all that crap? It doesn't really seem like a good idea…but Jax is so hot; I guess I can't really blame you."
"It's complicated, Allie and it was also really stupid."
That was probably the understatement of the year. Even before tonight, she hadn't yet wrapped her head around this dangerous game she was playing with Jax—what had started out as harmless flirtation had quickly morphed into something very different, starting with him giving her his phone number. At least she would have a little time to ruminate before she had to see him again at the fight.
She started limping back down the hallway with a sigh. "I'm exhausted—I'm gonna go to bed. There's pizza in the fridge if you want it."
"Okay," Allie called back to her. "Hey, wait—why are you limping? What happened?"
"Like I said," Ava replied over her shoulder, still heading to the solace of her bedroom. "Long story."
"Oh…alright. Good night."
Finally. All she wanted to do at this point was just crumble into her bed and pass out—and not think about anything that happened tonight. She could deal with this later…she just needed to be in a coma for a little while until she could sift through the mindfuck that was her Friday night.
"'Night, Allie."
"Hey—one more question—" Allie called back as she settled into the couch.
"Yeah?"
"Why are you dressed like a hooker?"
A/N-Thanks to dreamer-girl-reana for being such a fantastic, encouraging beta! And thanks to everyone who reviewed/alerted/favorited the last chapter-your feedback really keeps me going.
Please let me know what you thought of this newest development-it was sooo much fun to write and I'm really excited to see what you guys thought!