Intaglio: Dragons All The Way Down (10 page)

Ava scowled as
Cole slid his hand up her calves, inching toward her thighs.  She crossed her
arms, holding in the urge to sigh.

“Hmmph,” she
grumbled.  “Do I know her?”

Cole chuckled as
his fingers reached the silken edge of her panties and began teasing back and
forth, sliding along the seam toward her crotch. 

“I don’t think
so...”  He tapped his pen on the book, watching her, his voice a low purr.
“Jealous, are you, Ava?” 

He worked her
panties off with one hand and they joined her pants at her ankles.  She kicked
them violently away, abruptly annoyed.  Cole stopped touching her altogether,
going back to writing, his face distracted. 

A full minute
passed, filled only by the scratching of his pen.

“I’m
not
jealous,” Ava said petulantly. 

At her words,
Cole stopped writing.  He straightened the book against his knees, his face
full of mischievous good-humour.

“Cole?”

He glanced up
again; this time he winked.

“Hmmm?”

Ava twisted so
she could sit up, putting them face to face. 

“Seriously now,”
she said, hoping she didn’t sound as anxious as she felt.  “Who’s Marta?” 

She realized
that at some point her hands had rolled into fists.  That part of her reaction
concerned her.

Cole’s face lost
the smirk and became softer.  He dropped the book onto her lap and set the pen
on the table.  Ava waited, chewing the inside of her lip as her heart
pounded.   This conversation left her feeling more naked than all of the
moments she'd been undressed in front of Cole in the last months combined.

“Marta Langden
is the therapist that Dad and I are seeing,” Cole said gently; his fingers
dropped to her waist, stroking lightly down the naked curve of her hip.  His
fingers were persuasive, laying a path of feather-light touches on her skin.

 “Oh.”

Ava knew they
were seeing a counsellor.  She also knew that Cole was going for an hour before
each session, too.  She frowned for a moment, trying to remember if the
therapist had ever been mentioned by her first name.  Ava didn’t think so. 

All the while,
Cole’s hand moved lower, dropping overtop her curls, teasing lightly.  She
shivered.  He leaned forward so that his face was close to hers.  (He could
have kissed her, but he hadn’t yet.)  Both hands slid under her top, fingers
moving against her skin.

“You can look at
what I wrote, you know,” he said quietly. 

He leaned in to
drop his lips against her mouth.  His thumbs reached the underside of her
breasts, fondling her through the lace of her bra.

“What are…?” Ava
gasped, her eyes closed against the tender caresses, “What are you writing?”

Cole’s hands
moved higher.  He found the edge of the bra and pulled it down so that his
roughened fingertips could reach her nipples.  She shivered, the pink peaks
hardening.

“It’s homework,”
Cole admitted, his face a hands-breadth away from hers.  “Things I remember
from when I was a kid…” his tongue flicked out to the shell of her ear, “things
about my family and my emotions.  Stuff like that.”

“Oh...” Ava said
weakly.  “Well, that’s good then.”

His teeth grazed
her ear lobe, nibbling gently, and she shuddered, but Cole wasn’t done. 

“Yes, it is
good...” he murmured, tasting the hollow under her ear.

Cole’s mouth was
nipping and licking her neck.  Ava couldn’t think any further.   His hands had
grown impatient in their wanderings,.  With a groan, Cole pulled his mouth away
from her, hands dropping from her breasts to her waist.  He pulled her to
straddle his lap where he sat against the headboard of the bed.  Her lashes
fluttered open.  He was watching her, face grave.

“I was teasing,
you know,” he said.  “There’s no reason to be jealous, Ava.  I wouldn’t do that
to you… 
Ever.”

She smiled at
his words, the way he hadn’t made light of her feelings.

“Thanks,” she
said, cheeks warming under his unwavering gaze.

He pulled her
closer, grinding her down against his hips.  The look in his eyes was shifting
again,  seriousness and intensity drawn into something needier.

“The writing’s a
good thing,” he added, voice husky with desire.  His hands eased the tank top
over her head.  “It’s not fun, exactly, but good to do.”

Ava nodded,
twisting her arm backward to undo her bra.  Cole pulled it slowly down her
shoulders, his eyes half-lidded as he talked.

“Although Dad
and I aren’t really talking to each other yet...”

The curves of
her breasts were exposed and she shrugged the bra off.  Cole’s mouth moved in
hungrily to capture one of her nipples in his mouth, Ava’s hands tightening in
his hair. He paused, lifting his face to look at her, fingers taking the place
of his mouth.

 “It’s still
progress...” Cole said, “even if we’re just answering questions in the same
room.”

Ava made a soft
mewling sound and he laughed quietly.

“But it’s still
a start...” she panted.

Then Cole leaned
toward her, his mouth slanting hard against her lips, the book of stories forgotten
on the bed.

Ava waited in
her truck, glancing at her watch.  Frank and Cole were seventeen minutes late. 
That had never happened before.  She watched the door, a wrinkle of concern
etched between her eyebrows.

‘C’mon guys...’
 her mind
repeated. 
‘Get out of there...’

Something bad
must had happened.  Ava was sure of it.

With a bang, the
door of the office building swung open, the glass panels shuddering from the
impact.  Frank Thomas stormed onto the sidewalk.  His face was purple with
rage, hands balled at his side, stance wide and angry as he stomped toward his
vehicle.  Ava considered calling out to him; one look at his scowl changed her
mind.

Ava waited until
he climbed into his SUV, driving away with a screech of tires before she
stepped out of her own truck.  She headed through the door of the therapist’s
office, pausing for a moment on the nameplate:
Dr. M. Langden, LCSW
.  A
grey-haired secretary sat inside at a desk,  typing away at a computer
keyboard.  There was no one else in the waiting room, but she could hear
shouting at a distance. 

Ava felt a
nervous twinge.  The sound bothered her. 

‘Cole...?’

Stepping to the
desk, Ava waited until the woman stopped typing, her grandmotherly face
breaking into a patient smile.

“Hullo, dear. 
What can I do for you?” the woman asked cheerily.

“Uh... hi.  I’m
Cole Thomas’s girlfriend,” she answered apprehensively. “Has he left yet?” 

Ava glanced at
the clock on the wall.  Cole was now twenty minutes late.  The woman smiled
benignly, motioning Ava to take a seat.

“I’m sure he’ll
be along shortly,” the woman replied.  “He’s still in his session, far’s I
know.”

Ava shifted from
foot to foot.

“But he’s
supposed to be done already,” she said.  “Like twenty minutes ago.”

The woman paused
her typing for a moment and looked back up at Ava.

“Yes,” she said
patiently.  “Tha’s right.”

“But he’s not.”

“No, dear.  Not
today.”

Somewhere, Ava
heard another shout.  This time she was sure it was Cole.  ‘Shit!’  Peeking
into the hallway, Ava took half a step forward. The elderly secretary rose to
her feet.

“Oh I don’t
think so,” the woman said.  She was calm but there was steel under the velvet. 

“Look,” Ava
argued.  “I really just need—”

“You will sit
yourself down, dearie, and WAIT!” the woman ordered, pointing again to the
chairs.

Shaking her
head, Ava headed back to her truck, swearing under her breath.

: : : : : : : :
: :

Cole didn’t come
out for another twenty-three minutes, by which time Ava had chewed her
thumbnail down to the quick.  Her heart was in her throat as the door of the
building opened and Cole stumbled out.  He was pale and sweaty, hair
dishevelled, his coat unbuttoned.  Ava blanched; he looked years older than
when he’d gone in.  The change shocked her.  She watched him wend his way to
her truck, face haggard.  He wrenched open the door, slumping as he sat.

“Oh my god,” she
said, “are you okay?”

Cole shook his
head.

“No,” he choked.

She put her hand
against his arm.

“I’m so sorry,
Cole.”

Cole laughed
sadly, his hand coming up to lay overtop hers.

“It’s okay,” he
muttered, eyes closing.  “Just give me a sec.”

Ava nodded,
watching him struggle for control. 

“Cole, I came
into the office when your Dad left,” Ava said quietly.  “I, uh... I heard you.”

He released a whistling
breath, fingers tightening around hers.

“Yeah.”  His
lips twisted in disgust.  “Today Marta wanted me to, um… not just answer
questions, but… participate with Dad.  Insisted I tell him when I didn’t agree
with what he’d said.” 

Ava swallowed
with a dry throat.

“He didn’t take
that well?”

Cole laughed,
angry and bitter.

“Let’s just say
that his version of events didn’t match mine in the least.  He, uh… got right
down to business today.  Told me I was dead wrong,”  Cole sneered.  “That
didn’t go over well.”

Ava slid across
the bench seat, her hand staying atop his, unwilling to break the contact.  She
put her face against his cheek.

“Want to talk
about it?”

There was a
pause before he answered.

“Yeah, sometime,
Ava.”  He took a slow breath.  “I do... and I will... but not yet, okay?”  When
he turned to look at her, he was smiling, but it was hard-won, his eyes dark
and stormy.   “I just... I can’t right now.”

She nodded,
letting go so that she could wrap her arms around his chest tightly,  the bits and
pieces of Cole’s story starting to pick away at her own self-control.  For a
moment she flashed to Frank’s expression as he left the office, face mottled. 
Ava’s heart pounded furiously, temper rising.

Cole deserved to
be treated better than that.

: : : : : : : :
: :

When they
reached the driveway, Cole stepped out of the truck, pulling up the zipper of
his coat and heading away from the house.

“Cole…?”  Ava
called. 

He hadn’t spoken
on the drive back and that worried her.  He hadn’t pulled away like this in
weeks; tonight he was somewhere else entirely.  She shoved her keys into her
pocket, slamming the door and following him.

“I’ve got to
blow off some steam,” he muttered, heading out into the wind.  “I’m just going
down to the beach to walk for a bit.”

Ava jogged to
his side, hand going to his arm.

“Can I come?”

He shook his
head, his lips grim.  His eyes were on the horizon as if watching for a storm.

“Please, just
let me go, Ava.” 

His tone was
sharp and angry, and she stepped back, giving him space. 

“Oh… okay.”

He gave her a
weak smile, raising his hand. 

“I’ll be back
soon, alright?  Wait up for me.”  He took a single step, then turned around. 
“I will come back,” he repeated. “Promise.”

Ava nodded
silently, watching him walk down to the beach, his hands shoved deep in his
pockets.  Her jaw clenched as she headed into the house.  Frank Thomas was
going to get a piece of her mind.

: : : : : : : :
: :

He was in the
den, a glass of whiskey in hand, static coming from the television.  Ava paused
in the doorway, her father’s voice warning her to let herself calm down before
she went in.  But she didn’t care anymore. 

‘Cole’s
trying...’
a voice inside her roared,
‘it’s Frank who’s being an asshole about this...’

She stormed in
without knocking, throwing herself down into the chair opposite him, waiting
until he looked at her.  He was no longer angry; his face was despondent and
distant.  Ava didn’t care.  She was pissed, and he was going to know it.

“You hear it?”
he asked, lifting the tumbler to his lips.  His eyes were half-closed, alcohol
mixing with melancholy.

“No, I don’t,”
she snarled, words cold.

His expression
changed at her answer.  She, of course, knew exactly what he was listening
for.  Those children were long gone... both of them... and his grown son had
been forgotten in return.

Frank sat up,
frowning.