I grin harder. ‘Zero, baby,’ I whisper, and she’s off, though not as fast as she would like, her limp evident. And I suddenly wonder what the fuck I’m doing encouraging this. She’ll do herself damage, and all because she wants to prove a point. ‘Ava, stop!’
‘No way, Ward.’ She hobbles off down the stairs, and I mentally kick myself repeatedly for being such a careless fool.
I don’t run after her, I walk, though I walk fast, ready to shut down this game immediately. ‘Ava, I’m not playing.’ I see her round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, the vibrator waving above her head, now buzzing again. She’s laughing. I’m not. I’m not in the least bit amused. ‘Ava, for fuck’s sake, stop running!’
‘Not so you can catch me. I know your game, Ward.’
I speed up, my pace now urgent. ‘Ava!’ I roar, my patience fraying. Has she no fucking self-awareness? ‘I swear to God, if you don’t pack it in, I’ll—’
‘What? Give me the countdown?’ She cackles. ‘That ship’s sailed, Ward.’
I throw myself down the final few steps, now fuming fucking mad, mixed with a ton of panic, too. If she doesn’t kill herself with this recklessness, then I’ll do the fucking job myself. I hear the back door slam. The garden? ‘Ava!’ Flying through the house like a hurricane, I just manage to yank the door open before I throw myself through the glass. I see her running across the lawn towards the trampoline. I’m gaining on her, and she looks back over her shoulder, her smile splitting her face. ‘Stop,’ I warn, running after her.
‘I can’t believe you’d get so worked up over my Weapon of Mass Des—’ Her words scream to a halt, and so does her body, so quickly that I nearly charge her down. I catch her arms, and she looks at me, her face vacant. ‘Destruction,’ she breathes, half-unsure, half-exhausted, her stare stuck to the vibrator in her hand. She drops it like a hot potato, like it could be on fire, and takes her palms to her temples, squeezing her eyes shut.
My heart rate rockets. ‘Ava? Ava, baby, what’s wrong?’
She yells, her body bending forward, like she’s trying to make herself small to protect her from something. What? Pain? Fuck, my heart’s going to fall at her feet any moment. ‘Ava, for fuck’s sake.’ I take the tops of her arms and bend, trying to get her face in my sights. And when I do, I hate what I see.
Her expression is agony, contorted with pain. Oh Jesus, something’s seriously wrong. Instinct steams forward and has me scooping her from her feet and running back to the house, set on calling an ambulance, a doctor, or maybe even racing her to the hospital myself.
‘Jesse, stop!’
Like she could have turned me off, my feet slow, and she wriggles from my arms, taking her hands back to her head and closing her eyes. ‘There’s too many.’ She balls her fists, obviously frustrated.
‘Too many what?’
‘Things. Things happening in my head.’
My heart that was racing only gathers more speed. Memories? Is she talking about memories?
‘Urhhhh!’ she yells, and bashes the side of her head. I move in, seizing her hands and pulling them away.
‘Stop,’ I demand, forcing her arms to her sides. ‘Just stop it!’ She looks up at me, squinting, her forehead wrinkled with the effort it’s taking her to think. ‘Take your time, baby.’ I pull her down to the grass and hold her hands, letting her have a moment to straighten out everything in her head. ‘Just take your time.’ I’m trying so hard not to get carried away. Trying desperately not to let my hope run away with me. ‘Tell me what you see.’
‘I don’t know, it’s all fuzzy.’ Her hands crush mine, her eyes wide and wild. ‘It’s you.’
Oh my God. My head drops back, and I look to the sky, thanking God for this breakthrough. ‘Where am I?’ I drop my sights back onto her, gently encouraging, moving in closer on my knees.
‘I don’t know, but you’re mad. Really mad.’
If it was appropriate, I’d laugh. ‘Ava, there are many times in our history that I’ve been crazy mad. You need to be a bit more specific.’
‘You can’t move.’
My forehead becomes heavy with my frown as I rack my brain for something that’ll clue me in on where she’s at. I have nothing.
‘Thirty.’ Looking up at me, she searches my face for anything to suggest I’m following. I’m not, and I feel awful that I can’t offer any insight. It’s cryptic. ‘Thirty,’ she repeats, now louder, and there’s a bit of excitement building. And then she’s quickly standing up, looking down at me, virtually shaking with exhilaration. I don’t know why. Thirty means nothing. Not being able to move means nothing. Together, they mean nothing. I flinch when she claps her hands, holding them together in front of her delighted face. ‘I’m thirty-fucking-seven!’ she wails. ‘You can’t move because you’re handcuffed to the bed! You’re thirty-fucking-seven!’
Jesus Christ. I breathe out, overcome, feeling like the sky is falling and blanketing me in pure, unrelenting happiness. It’s too overwhelming, and I plummet to my back on the grass, looking up to the heavens in gratitude.
‘I remembered something!’ She dives on top of me, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at her. ‘Not just words, but I saw you there! Going fucking ballistic!’ Her lips land on mine, kissing me hard.
Of all the things she remembers, it’s that. ‘Typical,’ I mutter, feigning sulkiness when I’m actually fucking ecstatic. ‘And watch your mouth, Ava.’ She’s dropped enough f-bombs in the past two minutes to kill me off.
‘I will not.’ Her lips leave mine, and her face appears above me, veiled by her damp locks. The smile on her face is enough to make a grown man weep. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re thirty-fucking-seven!’
I fucking wish. ‘I hate to break it to you, baby, but I haven’t been thirty-fucking-seven for a long time.’
‘I don’t care.’ She blinks, once, twice, and then rapidly, stilling above me, her smile falling. ‘You were mad. And then I’m mad. Why was I mad?’
My lips press together when she casts her eyes back to mine. I know exactly why she was mad. ‘Maybe because you thought John freed me, when it was actually Sarah.’
‘Another woman saw you naked and handcuffed to the . . .’ She fades off, blinking again. ‘Wait, why am I handcuffed to the bed?’
Jesus, she’s suffering a serious bombardment. I reach for her left hand and lift it between us, pointing at her ring. Reminding her. ‘This, maybe?’ I already told her the story of my proposal. She forgot?
‘You can’t propose when I’m handcuffed to the bed!’ she sings, thrilled.
‘Wrong,’ I counter, and she looks at me, all care for the fact Sarah freed me gone. She’s smiling. ‘I could, I would, and I did.’
‘You’re a case, Jesse Ward.’
‘And that’s just one of the reasons why you love me.’ I refrain from saying loved. ‘Tell me more.’ I roll us a little, taking her to the grass so she’s on her side facing me. ‘What else is there? What else do you remember?’ I’m hungry for more, anything more.
I can see the effort it takes her to think, trying to pluck more memories from the black pit that is her mind, and I’m quick to stop her, placing a hand over her hip so she looks at me. I don’t want her straining. ‘Don’t force it. More will come.’
‘I want them now.’ Her whiny voice and slumped body make me smile. I’d love them all now, too, but patience is a virtue and all that bollocks. Which is a joke, coming from me. But, for the sake of Ava and my sanity, I mustn’t push her more than she’s already trying to push herself. If anything, I should take comfort in the fact that she desperately wants to find me in that mixed-up head of hers.
‘Come.’ I get us up and sling an arm around her shoulders, snuggling her close. ‘That’s enough exertion for one day.’ Her mind and her body must be beat.
I walk her back into the house, following the sound of my ringing phone. I can’t disguise my tenseness when I see the number, because I just know who it is.
‘You okay?’ Ava asks, looking up at me with concern.
‘Just a sales number.’ I reject the call and block the number.
Done. I can’t risk Sarah knocking Ava off her high. Too much progress has been made today. Great progress.
I’m feeling hopeful, and dirt from my past isn’t going to tarnish it.