Tragic Beauty (Beauty & The Darkness #1)(26)

Shayne steps to the door and his angry voice barrels through the room. “Let’s go, Ava.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Gavin says.

“You two numb-nuts don’t seem to understand,” Ben lets out. “My double barreled friend here says she makes up her own mind.”

“Ava!” Shayne bellows, shaking his head and glaring at me. “We had a deal. So help me, God, if you don’t—”

The rack of the shotgun cuts him off. Gavin stands there, watching it all, watching me, confused.

I want nothing more than to let Ben and Gavin drive him off, but I know what will happen, where he’ll go. He’ll use my ‘weakness,’ and I know he’ll follow through, one way or another.

So I step to Ben and place my hand on his arm, lowering the gun. “It’s alright.”

“No, it ain’t.”

“It is. Really. This day was always coming.” I swallow hard. “Will you lock up?”

Ben gives a tight lipped nod.

I reach up and hug him. The only other time I’ve hugged him is when Helen passed. He looks away and my throat gets tight when I see the glassiness in his eyes.

With a deep breath, I turn and walk to Gavin. He stares at me, hurt, anger, and confusion set hard into his eyes. I reach up and press my palm to his cheek. “I’m sorry, Gavin. This was set in motion a long time ago.”

“Don’t. Don’t go. I won’t let you.”

“No room for anything else, remember?”

“I’ll make room.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”

His lips part, as though I’ve delivered a blow to his gut.

I stand on my tiptoes and whisper, “Thank you,” then place a soft kiss on his cheek.

It’s all I can do to avoid his eyes and walk to the front door. Calmly, I reach for my bag and my purse, slip on my black flats, and catch one more glimpse of the rose that lays in the middle of the floor…broken.

Moments later, I’m in the dually, looking through a tinted window at Gavin, standing in the doorway of my house, shoulders slumped, expression blank. I have to look away while tears drip into my lap, settling around my knotted hands. Next to me, Shayne’s jagged breathing reminds me of the trouble I’m in. It isn’t until we’re out of the driveway and down the road a ways that he pulls the truck over and lets it idle, just staring out the front windshield.

I sit there quietly, with no sounds but the rumble of the engine and my occasional sniffle.

When Shayne finally turns to me, his eyes are deadly, so I turn away.

A moment later, his hard voice breaks the silence. “It’s me. Custom Black Dodge Challenger. Plate number 3XFJ875. He assaulted me. I’m pressing charges. I want him arrested, right the fuck now. He’s at Ava’s place.”

I turn to him in a panic, watching him on his cell.

“Yeah,” he goes on. “I have a witness too.” He looks at me, glaring.

When he hangs up, I’m about to say something when his hand snakes out and grips my neck, choking me.

“Not a word,” he snarls. “Not. One. Fucking. Word.”

He lets me go and I gasp for air as he opens the door and steps out. He puts the phone to his ear again and begins pacing back and forth in front of the truck. I can’t make out what he’s saying. Then he makes another call. A few minutes later he’s back in the driver’s seat and pulling on to the road. I huddle against the door while my gaze drifts out the window, watching the world pass by in a dreary haze. It isn’t until we’re pulling into a familiar gravel lot that I realize where we are.

“Get out of the truck,” Shayne orders.

But I can’t move. I just stare at the little stone chapel and see Father Watkins walk out, a confused expression on his gentle face.

I’m still in the truck when Shayne yanks the door open and jerks me out by the wrist. I shake my head. “This—this wasn’t the deal.”

He comes in close, eyes blazing. “I know what the deal was. And you did, too. But it’s changed now, hasn’t it?”

I work hard to keep my breathing steady, my mind clear. “But—I don’t love you.”

He stares at me for a long hard moment. “You don’t have to.”

I shake my head again, like somehow I can change the outcome from sheer will of force, but Shayne’s hand snakes up and grips my jaw. “I didn’t get to be the first, Ava, but I sure as hell am going to be the last. Now either you do this, or I will fucking destroy everything you care about, and that includes him. I’ll kill him, I swear to God.”

By the way the beast stares me down, I know he’s not bluffing. When he lets my jaw go, I turn to see a silver car pull in and park. Kyle Morris steps out, plump with thick glasses and shy, brown eyes that avoid us completely. He was a few grades ahead of Shayne in school. Now he’s the local clerk and notary.

Kyle begins laying out paperwork on the hood of his Honda, looking pale. Shayne grabs my purse from the truck, tightens his grip around my wrist and drags me to the car. I stand there, numb, while he pulls my wallet from the purse and hands my license over to Kyle, then does the same with his. Moments later, Shayne’s shoving a pen into my hand and hovering over me while I sign. Then Shayne signs.

I stare off to the side, trying to reason it out. Maybe he’ll get bored with me. Maybe I’ll pay my debt and he’ll be ready to move on. We can divorce. I’m not signing my life away. I’m not. I can’t be.