Read Ava Comes Home Online

Authors: Lesley Crewe

Tags: #ebook, #book

Ava Comes Home (32 page)

But he felt a slight change in the air and he didn't want the mellow mood to go away. “I have a big mouth.”

She met him halfway. He guessed she didn't want to ruin the evening either. “You have a perfect mouth.” She looked at his and waited for him to lean down and kiss hers and when he did, it was heaven. They parted and she looked back at the shimmering water while she snuggled against him. “I could sit like this forever.”

“Me too.”

“I wish I didn't have to go.”

“Then stay. Stay with me.”

“It's not that simple. I have a life. You have a life. We pretend it would be easy, but it might be harder than you think.”

“You're always putting up roadblocks,” he sighed.

She reached up and stroked his cheek. “I don't mean to. I really don't.”

“Then prove it.”

She took back her hand. “What do you mean?”

He got off the couch and knelt in front of her, putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out a small velvet box. He opened it and showed her the diamond ring inside. He reached for her hand.

“Elizabeth Ruby MacKinnon, I love you. I want to marry you. Please say you will. Please say you'll stay with me here for the rest of your life. You and Jack and Sarah and me. You'd make me the happiest man in the world.”

The look on her face told him he made the biggest mistake of his life.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“What's wrong?”

She couldn't meet his eye as she rose from the couch. “I have to go.”

He couldn't believe it. “Are you serious?”

She slipped on her high heels and glanced around as if she'd forgotten something. She looked panicked and he didn't know what to do. He got off his knee and snapped the box shut. He threw it on the couch and stood in front of her.

“Libby, you can't do this to me.”

She shook her hands as if they were on fire. “I can't.”

He grabbed her shoulders. “You can't what?”

“Stay.”

He shook her. “Why? Tell me why you can't

srhstay.”

She bit her lip and looked away. He kept a tight grip on her. “You're doing my head in. Is this a game? Some sort of weird fantasy you've dreamed up to keep me on a leash? You pull me in and then push me away, over and over and over again.”

Still she wouldn't look at him.

“Thousands of men propose to women every day. It's not unheard of. From what I understand, most of the women jump in their arms and say yes. But not you. Not you, Libby.”

He pushed her away. “I deserve an explanation and you're not leaving this house until you give me one.”

She ran to the door and he yelled, “Stop!” She put her hands on the door but didn't turn around. “You walk out that door on me, and so help me I'll follow you. I'll follow you into town and into your house and into your bedroom until you give me an answer. Because this stops tonight—this crazy bullshit of letting me kiss you and hold you and then pushing me away.”

She was crying now. He didn't care. He paced the living room. “I'm trying to think. Trying to think of why you would do this to me.”

She leaned on the door with her fist against her mouth. She peeked at him with tears streaming down her face.

And then the light went on. Seamus stopped and pointed at her. “What am I talking about? You've done this before. The night of the prom you let me do everything to you and then at the last minute you stopped me. You wouldn't do it.” He shook his head in disbelief. “It never occurred to me. This is your game. This is what you do best.” He walked up, stood right beside her and then whispered in her ear. “But you know what, Libby? I want to know why you fucked everyone else in town but me.”

He'd done it then. He could tell. He'd sent her over the edge. She leaned against the door with her open palms and slammed her hands against it. “You stupid boy. You stupid, stupid boy.”

Then she turned on him and started to hit him. “It's your fault,” she cried. “You left me. You should never have left me. I begged you to stay and you didn't. I begged you.”

He was finally able to grab hold of her wrists. “Stop. Stop it.”

“Let go of me. You're hurting me.”

Seamus didn't let go. He shook her again. “Tell me. You have to tell me.”

“I can't.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No. NO.”

“It was that teacher, wasn't it? That drama teacher. Did he do something to you, Libby? If he did something to you, you have to tell me.” She fell on her knees and would have slipped to the floor if he hadn't been holding her wrists. Her head sagged in front of him. She whispered something.

“What? What did you say?”

She threw her head up and screamed at him, “He raped me. He raped me for hours. He nearly killed me. Is that what you want to know? Does that satisfy your curiosity? Do you feel better now?”

He got down on the floor in front of her and let go of her wrists, reaching out to take her in his arms. She grabbed him around the neck and buried her face against his shirt before she cried and cried and finally, when there was nothing left, she whimpered like a beaten dog.

He never let her go. He kept hold of her because if he didn't, he'd go out of his mind. He didn't want to think; he needed to quiet her breathing, needed her to stop shaking and needed to stop her heart from hammering like a wild bird in a cage.

They held onto one another for a long time before he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He lay her down and kissed her hands and told her he'd be right back, returning with a damp facecloth and towel. He sat beside her on the bed where she lay like a broken thing. Seamus wiped her sweet face. Her hair was wet from her tears and sweat, so he pushed back her bangs and held the cloth against her forehead, then dabbed her neck and picked up one arm then the other, wiping her fingers. He kissed her palms as he lay them back down. Drying her with a soft towel, he made hushing sounds, soothing, quiet sounds so she wouldn't be frightened.

Her eyes were closed, as if they were too heavy to open. When her breathing finally became even, he knelt by the side of the bed and kissed her brow, brushing his thumb against it softly.

“You're going to be all right, Libby. I'm going to keep you safe.”

He barely heard her breathe, “Yes.”

He pulled the quilt over her. They stayed like that for a long time, and then when he thought it might be okay, he went around to the other side of the bed and lay beside her. He gently put his arm around her and turned her towards him. They lay close together, side by side. He didn't dare move. This was enough.

Finally she spoke, so quietly he had to strain to hear her. “I didn't know what to do. I thought I'd done something wrong, that I somehow deserved it. I must have led him on. I didn't know how it could happen otherwise. He told me not to tell you.”

“Oh god.”

“He said if I did, he'd tell you that I wanted it and I loved it.”

Seamus thought he was going to be sick, but he didn't dare move. He may never get her to talk about it again, so he swallowed hard and listened.

“I couldn't tell anyone. There was no one to tell. I was afraid no one would believe me. Then you went away and I didn't know what to do. I had nightmares and couldn't sleep. One night I went to a friend's house and there were some other people there drinking rum. They wanted me to try some, so I did. And it felt good after a while, like I could forget about what happened. So I started to go out every night and went to places where I could get liquor. Boys would buy me drinks because I didn't have a lot of money. And at first it was a kiss they wanted for a drink, but soon they were asking me to do other things. I needed that liquor to sleep. It wasn't so bad because I never remembered what I'd done the night before. I felt like a slut anyway. I was a slut. He told me I was, over and over. So I played the role. It was make-believe and if it was a role, I could disappear inside it.”

She stopped talking for a minute. Seamus stayed quiet.

“And then one day a boy held out a glass of rum and told me I could have it if…you know the rest. I was very popular with the boys that summer.”

He squeezed her. “It wasn't your fault.”

“And somewhere inside I knew you were coming back and I didn't know what to do. How was I ever going to tell you that I'd been with—” “It wouldn't have mattered.”

“But it would have, Seamus. Two months after he raped me, I found out I was pregnant.”

He stopped breathing for a moment. “Oh my girl. My sweet girl.”

She started to cry then. “I couldn't face you. I couldn't think any more. I couldn't bear the thought of going to my mother to tell her I was having a baby. She'd be heartbroken. None of my sisters had babies before they were married. I would have shamed them.”

“No.”

“I didn't want it, Seamus. I didn't want it growing inside me. I had to get rid of it. So two days before you got back, I took money from my mother's secret stash and took a bus to Halifax to get an abortion.”

“Oh god.”

“A girl I knew let me stay with her after it was done. I was with her for a couple of months and then she and a friend decided they wanted to drive to California to become actresses. I tagged along so I could get as far away as possible from the memories of that summer. I went to my friend's audition and they asked me to read instead of her. I did and they gave me a job. That was the start of my career. It was perfect for me. I could be anyone else in the world but Elizabeth Ruby MacKinnon.”

He held her head and rocked her. “I don't know what I can say to you that will ever make this hurt go away, other than I love you and none of this matters in the least. You don't have to hide from me anymore, Libby. I know everything now. Let me help you.”

She finally rose up on the bed and held her hair back with her hands. “I'm tired.”

“Stay here tonight.”

She looked at him quickly. He grabbed her hands. “Just to sleep, sweetheart. You need to sleep and I'll be here to hold you if you get frightened.”

“But what do I tell Aunt Vi?”

“Why don't you call her and tell her you're staying with Rose tonight? She'll never check. And that way you can go home in the morning after you've had a shower and something in your stomach and you can face Aunt Vi without looking…”

“As I look now.”

He nodded.

“Okay. I don't think I have the energy to do anything else.” He reached across the bed and grabbed the phone, handing it to her. She dialed the number and, proving she was a great little actress, told Aunt Vi she'd see her in the morning, that she and Rose were having a good old-fashioned chin wag. She nodded and said she loved her too and then bid her aunt goodnight. She dropped the phone on the mattress. Seamus got out of bed. “I'm going to run you a bath. I think you need a hot soak. Then you can throw on one of my t-shirts and crawl into bed. You can sleep as long as you want. I won't wake you.”

She nodded. He ran to the bathroom and filled the tub, grabbing a clean towel and the t-shirt for her. He left them by the bathroom sink, turned off the tap and helped her to the bathroom door. “I'm okay. Thank you.” She closed the door. He sat on the edge of the bed and heard her step into the water, then scoop it up and splash it over and over again. He had to concentrate on these noises because he wasn't allowed to think. Not yet. He must take care of her first.

Finally, he heard her get out and let the water run out of the tub. She emerged shortly afterward with her damp hair combed back, wearing his shirt, which came down to her knees. He helped her into bed and tucked her in.

“I'll be here beside you all night. I'm not going anywhere. You're safe here.”

She raised her hand and stroked his cheek with her finger. “Thank you, Seamus. You're so kind. You always were.” She closed her eyes and pulled up the blankets around her.

He held his hand on her head for a moment and whispered, “My Libby.”

He stayed in his clothes on top of the blankets on the other side of the bed, close to her, with his hand on her back so she'd know he hadn't gone anywhere. Eventually, he heard her breathing become heavier and even. She was asleep.

Seamus lay awake all night.

At five thirty, he got out of bed very carefully and shut the door behind him. He had a shower—he felt dirty somehow. He scrubbed his skin raw so the words she'd whispered to him last night would leave him. When he stepped out of the shower, he saw her dress, panties, and bra hanging on the back of the door. He wrapped his towel around his waist and reached over to take the dress off the hook. It was small and light, just a piece of gauze that wrapped around her perfect body. He held it to his face and smelled her perfume. Then he rubbed it against his cheek. So little, so defenseless. He thought his heart would break.

Back to the bedroom he tiptoed to put her things where she could find them when she woke up. Once dressed, he made some coffee and went out to the deck to watch the pink sky turn gradually white and then light blue.

He was numb. This revelation made a lot of things make sense; he couldn't understand why he never thought of it before. The worst part was knowing that he let her slip out of his life without bothering to make sure she was all right. Leaving town without a word should have warned him. That wasn't like her, and he blamed himself for not realizing it before this. He was so wrapped up in his own hurt, his own disbelief that she could vanish like that; he never gave any other explanation a thought. His family was anxious for him to move forward and forget the past; he allowed them to distract him. They talked of him starting over and said perhaps he should go away for a while, that it might be the tonic he needed.

So when the idea of the police academy came up, it sounded good to him. Anything had to be better than wandering around town and having people look at him with pity. And it proved to be the best thing he could have done. Seamus loved the discipline, the physical training, and the idea that there was right and wrong and people should obey rules. Rules gave him comfort.

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