Tragic Beauty (Beauty & The Darkness #1)(80)

It’s early morning now, and quiet, so far removed from the bedlam of just a couple hours ago. Even so, I still feel wired. Still feel wound up so tight that my ears are ringing and my body’s pumping, feeling that need to be on guard.

I open my tired eyes and look around, the surroundings so different from the white sterile room of the last few days. The sun is starting to make its way between red velvet drapes that match the bedspread, casting light and shadows across dark antiques, Persian rugs, and gold patterned wallpaper. Of the eight bedrooms I’d had to choose from, I picked this one for the view it has out the two windows, and because of the big Renaissance style oil painting that hangs above the bed, of horses hanging out under a tree.

The sun shifts, casting its rays across Ava now, who looks like a tragic Sleeping Beauty in the big four-poster bed that’s centuries old. Her blonde hair lays like a halo around her head, her long lashes rest peacefully against her face. Her face. Her poor beautiful face. Even that wasn’t spared. She has bruising along her cheekbones and her lips are cut, from where I know she’s been struck. And she’s so pale, and those circles under her eyes so dark. I look at the bandage on her shoulder, peeking out from under the white hospital gown, and at the brace on her left hand, and know that’s not even the half of it.

The dam I put in place to keep myself together these past few days starts to crack, and I feel the burn of unshed tears. I stare down at her fingers, so frail and so small inside of mine, when that image appears. That image I can’t shake. The image of her in that room, strung up, limp, beaten and bloody…and branded. Then there was that…thing…that monster, lying off to the side, covered in spikes and her blood. An ungodly rage swells in me every time I see that scene, that demon inside me thrashing in his cage like a madman, but I’ve been keeping it locked up good and tight for now, because I need to be here for Ava. But my hands haven’t stopped shaking since I found her. And my heart hasn’t stopped breaking since I walked into that cell, knowing most, if not all of what she went through, was because of me.

Who do you think’s been paying for what you did to him?

My throat goes tight and a tear slips through the dam and makes its way down my cheek. I try to find some comfort in the fact that she’s not with him anymore. She’s with me now. But then those words echo in my head. Those words that have been haunting me ever since I carried her out of there.

You’re a monster, just like me.

Another tear falls, when the door opens. I look down, knowing it’s Lucas, but not able to face him. He comes in quietly and by the aroma that fills the room, I know he’s brought in a tray of food. He places it on the table next to me, but doesn’t say anything about how I should try to eat, because he knows it won’t do any good. Instead, he places a strong hand on my shoulder.

The gesture has me weakening and the tears start streaming quietly down my face.

By the time Lucas leaves the room and closes the door behind him, the dam bursts and I’m keeled over the bed, sobbing.





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO




Ava




There’s a fog around me, thick and heavy. I can’t see anything, but gloom and haze, but I hear a voice. A soft voice, almost like a whisper. It sounds familiar, offering a ripple of a memory. I hear the rumble again and a name comes to mind. Gavin. I take a tentative step forward, arms outstretched like a blind person, and want to call out, but I can’t. I’m supposed to stay quiet.

A whisper sounds again, this time closer. I squint my eyes, trying to find something, anything through the fog, but it just seems to grow thicker. I look up and still see fog, then I look down and gasp. Beneath me is a pool of something dark, something red, growing around me like an open wound. I take a step forward, feeling like I’m wading in a pool—a pool I realize is blood. But who’s blood? It can’t be mine, can it? There’s just so much. I look down at myself, wearing a white, V neck t-shirt, then slowly, red stains appear like magic, growing and spreading until every inch of me is red. I whimper and move my feet faster and faster, but the pool of blood just keeps growing, slowing my steps. Off to my right, horses appear. Three horses I know and love. Slowly, they turn red. Then a man is there. A beautiful man with bright, green eyes, but even those eyes turn red, too. I start crying and turn away, only to see an old man cursing up a storm at the blood stains growing on his shirt. The blood’s so high now, it feels like I’ll drown. I try to swim, but I don’t know how, and the blood is so thick, so much thicker than water. Then there’s another man—an angry man with black eyes. I try to run from him, but no matter where I run, I seem to move closer to him. A red stain appears on his shirt, too, spreading from his heart. “You did this,” he sneers, pointing a finger at his chest. I stand in front of him now, but the man is gone, replaced by a boy with dark eyes, watching the stain creep over his body. He points at me and shouts, “You did this!” I shake my head, crying.

“Ava!”

Someone’s calling to me now. I turn around, but there’s nothing but fog again.

“Ava!”

There’s something on my face, something warm and soothing, causing the fog to lift. My eyes flutter open, and a light appears, bright like the sun.

“Ava,” the voice says again.

I blink, over and over, but everything feels slack. A gentle touch along my jaw turns my head. Then slowly, green eyes come into focus.