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Chapter Thirty-One

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Evan

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The sun danced off Avery’s freckled body. I lay in bed and looked at her as she rested on her stomach, her back completely bare and exposed. The sun accentuated every part of her. She appeared so vulnerable, completely unaware that I looked at her so intently. Her guard was down, and I brushed her red hair out of her face to focus on her freckles. Her face held a small smile, and she looked peaceful, calm and happy.

The clock flashed noon, and I silently eased out of bed. I checked my phone and flipped through some messages from Torres. He was at the station working on some leads. I didn’t want to wake Avery, so I headed out to the living room and put in the tape from the Down Under Pub, silently thanking the Extended Stay for the outdated VCR and DVD combo. I made myself some coffee, sat down on the couch and watched as drunk people staggered across the screen. It was the same thing for what seemed like forever, but I glanced down at my phone and saw only twenty minutes had passed. Sighing, I stood from the couch and headed to the bathroom.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I jumped, practically zipping my manhood in my pants at the sound of Avery’s voice.

“Motherfucker.” Avery’s voice grew louder and there was no longer just a hint of the frustration I’d caught before. It was full-blown anger. I ran out of the bathroom and saw Avery standing in front of the TV with the screen paused.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I slipped my arms around Avery’s waist. She spun around, her eyes blazing and anger burning me to my very core.

“You knew.” She punched me square in the face and I fell onto the couch.

“Knew about what?” I held my face in my hands, adjusting my jaw as I stood. Fuck me, Avery could punch. I watched her quickly shake out her hand as she paced.

“About Marshall and Garcia being taken.” Avery clenched her fists at her sides, and I closed my eyes quickly, bracing myself for another punch. When it didn’t come, I opened my eyes and pushed myself back into the couch a little more. I felt around on the couch for my phone. Where the hell was it? I’d left it right there. And then, it all clicked.

“You have my phone,” I stated.

“Yes, I do.” She held it out to me, and I grabbed it. “Torres texted while you were in the bathroom, and I checked it. I thought it was something important about the case. He was wondering if you found the proof that Marshall and Garcia were taken.” Avery pressed play on the remote control.

“What do you see, Evan?” Her voice was calm and even. She didn’t raise it and that was scarier than if she’d screamed bloody murder. Actually, I would have preferred that. I had seen some shit in my day, been in some precarious situations, but I had met my match.

I tried to calm my frazzled nerves as I tore my eyes away from the woman who, just a half hour ago, had been sleeping peacefully next to me. I stared at the TV screen and what I saw, made my heart rate quicken. I began to sweat and I knew that I had blown it.

“I thought it would be better to wait to tell you when I knew for a fact.” I took a breath as I watched the scene unfold in front of me.

Lorelei was sneaking behind Marshall and Garcia. Everything seemed fine, but then, like a whirlwind, Garcia fell to the ground and Marshall joined her not too soon after. I looked at Avery’s face, her eyes glistening with tears watching her friends fall to the ground. I fucked up. I fucked up badly. I should have listened to Scott and Torres when they said this was a bad idea. But I had only wanted to protect her, to shield her from the worry until I was certain.

“Avery.” I went to stand and head toward her, pushing aside the tug of doubt that I shouldn’t even try. I had to do something. I had to say something. She shoved me again, her red hair flowing like fire around her reddened face.

“No, Evan. You can’t kiss your way out of this one.” She cursed under her breath and yanked her cell phone from the table. Every movement she made was fueled with hate, but when she looked at me, her eyes were hooded and filled with something beyond hate. Something much more meaningful and gut-wrenching: disappointment. “If I hadn’t been so wrapped up with you and your fucking gorgeous body and fantastic accent, my friends might still be alive.” I cringed at the words. “I should have known it would end like this. It would end before it even started. Just when I convinced myself that maybe I should give my feelings some consideration, you go and prove me right. That relationships are just messes.” She took a deep breath. “So fuck this shit and fuck you for thinking you know what would be best for me.”

“I’m sorry. I just....” I had my tail between my legs, scrambling to fix the mess I had created.

“I don’t want to hear your apologies.” She held up her hand to halt me from continuing. “I’m getting dressed and heading to the precinct. I suggest you do the same if you care anything about my friends and seeing they make it home safely.” Avery slammed her bedroom door, the vibration shaking the generic stock pictures that hung on the wall.

“I’m an idiot,” I admitted. “A goddamn idiot.” I gathered my things and headed to the bathroom. I shifted my mind to focusing on the case, bringing Marshall and Garcia home safely. Because that was my only hope for forgiveness.