Intaglio Dragons All The Way Down

chapter 11: First Volley



Ava waited in her truck, glancing at her watch. Frank and Cole were seventeen minutes late. That had never happened before. She watched the door, a wrinkle of concern etched between her eyebrows.

‘C’mon guys...’ her mind repeated. ‘Get out of there...’

Something bad must had happened. Ava was sure of it.

With a bang, the door of the office building swung open, the glass panels shuddering from the impact. Frank Thomas stormed onto the sidewalk. His face was purple with rage, hands balled at his side, stance wide and angry as he stomped toward his vehicle. Ava considered calling out to him; one look at his scowl changed her mind.

Ava waited until he climbed into his SUV, driving away with a screech of tires before she stepped out of her own truck. She headed through the door of the therapist’s office, pausing for a moment on the nameplate: Dr. M. Langden, LCSW. A grey-haired secretary sat inside at a desk, typing away at a computer keyboard. There was no one else in the waiting room, but she could hear shouting at a distance.

Ava felt a nervous twinge. The sound bothered her.

‘Cole...?’

Stepping to the desk, Ava waited until the woman stopped typing, her grandmotherly face breaking into a patient smile.

“Hullo, dear. What can I do for you?” the woman asked cheerily.

“Uh... hi. I’m Cole Thomas’s girlfriend,” she answered apprehensively. “Has he left yet?”

Ava glanced at the clock on the wall. Cole was now twenty minutes late. The woman smiled benignly, motioning Ava to take a seat.

“I’m sure he’ll be along shortly,” the woman replied. “He’s still in his session, far’s I know.”

Ava shifted from foot to foot.

“But he’s supposed to be done already,” she said. “Like twenty minutes ago.”

The woman paused her typing for a moment and looked back up at Ava.

“Yes,” she said patiently. “Tha’s right.”

“But he’s not.”

“No, dear. Not today.”

Somewhere, Ava heard another shout. This time she was sure it was Cole. ‘Shit!’ Peeking into the hallway, Ava took half a step forward. The elderly secretary rose to her feet.

“Oh I don’t think so,” the woman said. She was calm but there was steel under the velvet.

“Look,” Ava argued. “I really just need—”

“You will sit yourself down, dearie, and WAIT!” the woman ordered, pointing again to the chairs.

Shaking her head, Ava headed back to her truck, swearing under her breath.

: : : : : : : : : :

Cole didn’t come out for another twenty-three minutes, by which time Ava had chewed her thumbnail down to the quick. Her heart was in her throat as the door of the building opened and Cole stumbled out. He was pale and sweaty, hair dishevelled, his coat unbuttoned. Ava blanched; he looked years older than when he’d gone in. The change shocked her. She watched him wend his way to her truck, face haggard. He wrenched open the door, slumping as he sat.

“Oh my god,” she said, “are you okay?”

Cole shook his head.

“No,” he choked.

She put her hand against his arm.

“I’m so sorry, Cole.”

Cole laughed sadly, his hand coming up to lay overtop hers.

“It’s okay,” he muttered, eyes closing. “Just give me a sec.”

Ava nodded, watching him struggle for control.

“Cole, I came into the office when your Dad left,” Ava said quietly. “I, uh... I heard you.”

He released a whistling breath, fingers tightening around hers.

“Yeah.” His lips twisted in disgust. “Today Marta wanted me to, um… not just answer questions, but… participate with Dad. Insisted I tell him when I didn’t agree with what he’d said.”

Ava swallowed with a dry throat.

“He didn’t take that well?”

Cole laughed, angry and bitter.

“Let’s just say that his version of events didn’t match mine in the least. He, uh… got right down to business today. Told me I was dead wrong,” Cole sneered. “That didn’t go over well.”

Ava slid across the bench seat, her hand staying atop his, unwilling to break the contact. She put her face against his cheek.

“Want to talk about it?”

There was a pause before he answered.

“Yeah, sometime, Ava.” He took a slow breath. “I do... and I will... but not yet, okay?” When he turned to look at her, he was smiling, but it was hard-won, his eyes dark and stormy. “I just... I can’t right now.”

She nodded, letting go so that she could wrap her arms around his chest tightly, the bits and pieces of Cole’s story starting to pick away at her own self-control. For a moment she flashed to Frank’s expression as he left the office, face mottled. Ava’s heart pounded furiously, temper rising.

Cole deserved to be treated better than that.

: : : : : : : : : :

When they reached the driveway, Cole stepped out of the truck, pulling up the zipper of his coat and heading away from the house.

“Cole…?” Ava called.

He hadn’t spoken on the drive back and that worried her. He hadn’t pulled away like this in weeks; tonight he was somewhere else entirely. She shoved her keys into her pocket, slamming the door and following him.

“I’ve got to blow off some steam,” he muttered, heading out into the wind. “I’m just going down to the beach to walk for a bit.”

Ava jogged to his side, hand going to his arm.

“Can I come?”

He shook his head, his lips grim. His eyes were on the horizon as if watching for a storm.

“Please, just let me go, Ava.”

His tone was sharp and angry, and she stepped back, giving him space.

“Oh… okay.”

He gave her a weak smile, raising his hand.

“I’ll be back soon, alright? Wait up for me.” He took a single step, then turned around. “I will come back,” he repeated. “Promise.”

Ava nodded silently, watching him walk down to the beach, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Her jaw clenched as she headed into the house. Frank Thomas was going to get a piece of her mind.

: : : : : : : : : :

He was in the den, a glass of whiskey in hand, static coming from the television. Ava paused in the doorway, her father’s voice warning her to let herself calm down before she went in. But she didn’t care anymore.

‘Cole’s trying...’ a voice inside her roared, ‘it’s Frank who’s being an a*shole about this...’

She stormed in without knocking, throwing herself down into the chair opposite him, waiting until he looked at her. He was no longer angry; his face was despondent and distant. Ava didn’t care. She was pissed, and he was going to know it.

“You hear it?” he asked, lifting the tumbler to his lips. His eyes were half-closed, alcohol mixing with melancholy.

“No, I don’t,” she snarled, words cold.

His expression changed at her answer. She, of course, knew exactly what he was listening for. Those children were long gone... both of them... and his grown son had been forgotten in return.

Frank sat up, frowning.

“What’re you doing here, Ava?” he grumbled.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He scowled, gesturing to the television.

“You know what I’m doing...” he muttered, his lips a hard line. “Listening.”

Ava shook her head angrily.

“No,” she snapped, “you’re not. You’re sitting here, hidden in this…” she nodded to the room, “…this goddamn tomb while your son is outside, hurting!” She glared at him, aiming her words to cut. “Cole’s alive, Frank. He deserves your time, not her!”

There were a few seconds of silence before he pointed to the door.

“Get out!”

It was the sound of a man used to giving orders and being obeyed. Ava crossed her arms, leaning forward.

“No!” she snapped. Across from her, Frank’s eyebrows rose in shock. “You really have no idea what it’s like for him, do you?” she continued.

He recoiled as if he’d been slapped.

“Don’t you talk to me about my son!” he growled, banging the glass down on the table, amber liquid sloshing over the edge. “You know NOTHING about this family!”

Ava laughed bitterly, voice rising to match his.

“I know a hell of a lot more than you give me credit for.”

“Out!” he ordered again, but Ava just laid into him, her words fast and furious.

“You really have no idea what it was like to grow up with Hanna as a perfect f*cking ideal that Cole could never, EVER live up to!”

“Don’t you DARE!” Frank bellowed, rising from the chair like a shark from the depths, enraged and ready to attack. Ava stood at the same time. He loomed over her, but she wouldn’t step back.

“I will dare,” she hissed. “Cole is doing this because he wants to fix things with you. He WANTS to get to know you. Can you honestly say you want the same thing?!”

She could see him breathing hard, fighting to control himself.

“So tell me, Frank,” she said, voice lowering slightly, “what are you bringing to the table other than your grief?”

Cole’s father said nothing, just stared at her. After a moment, he spun on his heel and walked out, leaving Ava alone with the sound of pouring rain and the ghostly echoes of children.