Dear Ava

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

“Steel yourself,” I whisper. “Beyond these doors lie hellhounds and vampires.” I smirk. If only they really were. I’d pull out a stake and end them like Buffy. Sadly, they are only human, and I cannot stab them.

They may look almost identical, but they’re like night and day. Knox is the cold one, never smiling, that scar slicing through his cheek and into his upper lip, disrupting the curve of his mouth and the perfection of his face. I swallow. Screw him.

“Don't worry about me touching anything. I don’t like ugly.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. I meant his superior attitude, not his face, but I see the moment when he freezes and takes it the wrong way.

What happened was not my fault. Even though the drug test said I didn’t have any drugs in my system (only alcohol), I refuse to believe it. Or maybe it was just the alcohol. I don’t know, and it drives me insane.

Drunkenness does not equal acquiescence.

What I really mean is…you look at me and I feel something REAL. And that never happens.

I watch her park and get out of her car. I bite my lower lip, my body tightening. With what? Tension? Fear? Lust? Yeah, I’m a regular split personality. Part of me never wants to see her face again, but the other side of me…well, that’s the one I have to worry about.

There she is. It’s been months since she graced the hallowed halls of Camden with her long, lean legs and big aquamarine eyes. A suffocating feeling grows in my chest. She. Is. Here.

Come on, little Ava. Come closer to me, fierce girl. One more step. Let me touch you. On the arm. Your hand. Anything. Please.

Emotion, something unnamed, rare and beautiful, brushes down my spine. I tense. Rein it in.

“I kind of like Cold and Evil. Fits me. Truthfully, I’d prefer Hot as Fuck, but you do you.”

“All I had that was mine—my body—was taken without my consent, by you or one of your precious teammates. There’s nothing else you can do to me, Cold and Evil. Go tell your little brat pack that today. Something’s going to trigger my memory and when it does, I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.” “I’ll kill him with my bare hands.” His eyes flash. My heart drops and I rear back, confusion making me suck in a breath. What?

“I can’t imagine being alone with you.” He doesn’t answer, and I turn to look at him. He’s toying with his laptop, rubbing his fingers absently across the silver keyboard, looking at nothing. Suddenly, he frowns. “Because you’re afraid of me? It wasn’t me.” An odd look fills his eyes.

Sometimes the loneliest place on earth is in the midst of a crowd. But that’s okay. I’m here and that means something.

The silence and tension builds between us, and I…I find that it’s more than just disliking him. It’s electric, thrumming through my veins.

I try really hard to not notice how gorgeous he is.

With one step, he’s closer to me. Reaching out, he fingers a piece of hair that was in my eyes and puts it behind my ear. First I freeze.

I would have done whatever it took to keep her away from me.” “Fierce little thing.” I snap my teeth at him and his lips twitch.

I’m talking about Mom and what she went through, but they don’t know what broke her in the end, and their eyes bounce back and forth between us, watching Dane pale.

I lean over to him, keeping my voice low. “I mean it. Say her name again and I’ll fucking hurt you.” Anger colors his face and he sneers but can’t hold my gaze. That’s right, asshole. Be scared.

I wrench out of his grasp and reach out to his face. He thinks he’s ugly? Never.

I just… His scarred face. His deep, stormy eyes. Something twisted and dark that resides in me yearns for him.

I wonder what mysteries made him like this, what or who gave him this fragmented heart, the fractured sense of how he sees himself with that slash on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, and I guess I’m sorry for not being strong enough to say those words out loud. “Nothing’s happened between us, Ava. Get that sad look off your face.” He misunderstands. I’m not sad for what I just did. I’m sad because he’s out of my reach.

“Knox?” He puts his hand on the doorknob. “What?” “You’re not ugly. You’re beautiful.” He pauses but opens the door and slams it shut.

He grunts. “Really? No one wanted them to be together. None of the gods approved. Who’d love the king of the underworld?” “The right person.” He inhales.

But you can’t take a beautiful, soft flower and crush it under your cleats, not when she’s halfway to broken already.

“Knox hired a private investigator to look into that night. Nobody knows but me and our dad, but he followed up with him for three months, trying to get to the bottom of what happened, and I don’t even know why he cares except that he…” He trails off and I turn around.

“Knox?” He waves me off and plops down on the piano seat. “I blamed myself for not staying at the party and making sure nothing happened to you.”

When he speaks, the words come reluctantly. “You’ve always fascinated me, okay? Since day one, since the moment you waltzed through those doors with your long blonde hair and eyes full of all that hope. Everyone else comes here and they already have everything, but you had nothing—nothing except your power. You barely looked at any of us, especially me, and I knew then you were untouchable, knew you deserved better than any guy at Camden.” He pauses. “Then Chance…you gave him a shot.” He thinks I have power? I’m untouchable?

“You walked in Monday with all your hair cut off and a different color and, fuck, I was sad.” My heart thuds. “Really?” “Mmmm. When I sat behind you in class, I used to touch it with my pencil, and you never even noticed. You smell like vanilla, do you know that?” I’m afraid to say anything, to stop him. “Every day I’d get a little braver and barely touch my pencil to your shoulder, your arm. I was afraid to want you, then hurt you⁠—”

“What’s between us?” My voice shakes. “Since last year, there’s been this connection and I can’t explain it.” His eyes close briefly. “I know how it feels to walk into a room and feel as if no one really knows you. So do you.”

“Do you want this fucked-up mouth on you, Tulip?” “Yes,” I whisper, heat firing through my body at the frankness of him. At this moment, I want his fucked-up mouth all over me.

“Tulip,” he groans when we stop to breathe. “Don’t stop, please.” It feels too good. Kissing him is like I’ve spent a day in the sunshine, and when night comes, the stars will only shine for me.

“You’re shaking,” I say, recalling how he trembled outside Vandy. “I’m scared.”

“You…drive…me…insane,” he gasps out in between kisses.

“I’m not trying to make up for what happened to her,” I say tightly. “Nothing can do that.” But… I want her to be happy. And being with me won’t do that. The fact that she even wanted to kiss me blows my mind.

My body clenches at the mere sound of his voice. I want him so much, yet it’s so much more than simple lust or desire; it’s deeper and stronger and crazy and how have I let him scale my fortress? He wants me, and he fights it.

“Babe, as much as I like seeing you in booty shorts, you need to change.

“How did you get your scar?” I just need him to tell me, to open up when I know he hasn’t to anyone else except probably Dane. He sways on his feet. “God, Ava…” I cup his face. “Scars serve as medals of honor, and the strongest hearts have the most. I like your scars. Share them with me.” He takes a breath and his words slay me. “My mother sliced my face open.”

“She told me I was ugly after it happened, but she didn’t know what she was saying, so please don’t think badly of her. I don’t. I’ll love her always…she was my mom.” I bite my lip at the pain in his voice. “She killed herself a month later.”

His chest rises and he rakes a hand through his hair. “Shit. Truth?” “Why did you come tonight?” He lets out a frustrated growl, all male. Hot eyes drift over me. “I want you so bad I can’t think straight.” Oh, sweet Jesus. There it is. Somebody give the man a gold star.

“What makes me so special?” He cocks an eyebrow. “Does that even need a response? Don’t you see how incredible you are? How fucking hot and sweet and strong? And what happened to you at the party—figuring that out doesn’t stop, you feel me? It’s not over for me. I will find him, and when I do, I’m going to make him wish he’d never been born⁠—”

“Were you like this with Chance?” “And by like this, what do you mean?” My hand reaches out and brushes the hair from his face, and he grabs it, pressing a hot kiss to my palm. I like that feral gleam in his eye. Jealousy. “Badass. Mouthy. Sexy as fuck.” His hands cup my cheeks and he leans in, hovering over my lips.

“Are you sure, Tulip? Are you? Because I want you, but I don’t want to scare you or make you feel like you have to be physical with me. We can cuddle. We can crawl up in your bed and watch those goofy Star Wars movies while I play with your hair.” “I am,” I rush out,

And I know he’s a Shark and I’m not, but he’s kind, and I trust him, I do. He’s proven himself to me in so many ways.

Part of me feels vulnerable and nervous. I’ve never done this, never, and it’s with him and that means something special⁠—

“No. I’m going to fuck you till you see stars, Tulip.” “Always wanted to see the universe up close.” He huffs out a laugh.

want you kissing me, just me. God. His words. I’m falling so hard, dancing near the edge of the vastness that’s him. And I know there’s barely any trust left in me for guys, but for him… I want this. Whatever it is.

“I remember…what happened to Ava.” I flinch, revulsion crawling over my skin. “Are you saying it was you? Because no way⁠—” “Might as well have been,” he says bitterly. “It was Liam. And I knew it this whole time.”