Look After You (19 page)

I bite on my bottom lip so hard, I can feel the metallic twang of blood on my tongue, but as the anger continues to soar through me, hatred for my so called
brother
, I don’t feel a thing, I just feel numb.

“Aren
’t you even going to ask how your mother is doing after the loss of her daughter? Her second daughter, in fact.”

“Can you cut to the chase?” I ask impatiently as tears continue to
spill silently down my cheeks.

“O
h yes, Fran, my gorgeous Fran.”

I have to brace myself against the armrest as my body con
tinues to shake uncontrollably. “Please tell me you didn’t…please tell you left her the hell alone?” I almost beg, but I don’t even need an answer from him, to know the answer. It’s history repeating itself.

“Would it m
ake you jealous if I said I did touch her?”

I feel the utmost urge t
o heave and vomit at his words. “I swear to God if you if you even…I’ll-”

“You’ll what, Ava? What will you do?” I can’t even form a single word, but I wouldn’t even think twice about putting a bullet into tha
t sick and twisted head of his.

“I thought so,” he answers to the silence, obviously mistaking it fo
r weakness. I am far from weak. “You won’t do anything. And do you know why? Because I still own you, just like I owned your sister, until her very last breath.”

I shake my head angrily, at the mere thought of that evil man laying a hand on her. I don’t even want to comprehend the thought of him hurting her, but I can’t stop the flashes of him forcing himself upon her, hearing her begging cries urging him to stop. I can see the internal pain on her face, wishing death to cover her. I
’ve been there. Death always seems like the easier way out.

A new pain cripples me. I led him to her. I left to get away from him, without fully comprehending wha
t I was leaving behind for her.

“Why couldn’t you have just left Fran alone?” I demand as the tears co
ntinue to cascade down my face.

“It
’s pretty simple really, you were gone, she was there. You do the math.”

“You sick bastard!” I practically shriek down the phone, my blood hitting boiling point, with my hand clutched against the armrest in a death grip.

He continues to taunt me. “Well if you hadn’t have left in the first place, then none of this would have happened.”

“Don’t you dare put the fucking blame on me, you sick, twisted bastard!” I screech down the phone, my anger causing my insides to shudder from the impact of my own words. Then his sadistic laughter sounds through my phone, the very sound causing me to crush it within the palm of my hand. I don’t want to continue this
conversation with him anymore. I try to make myself calm down enough to ask the next question, even if it makes me want to hurl.

“When
’s her funeral?” I say through gritted teeth, hatred pouring out of every single word. Once he has given me the details, I end the call and throw the phone at full speed against the wall. I don’t even flinch when the plastic device smashes open against the wall and falls to pieces onto my wooden floor.

“Ava, who was that?” Ashton
asks with worry.

Unable to answer Ashton, my entire body is trembling with terror as I take in the severity of that phone call. Suddenly, I jump into gear and hurriedly shove my pumps on my feet and grab my purse from the cushioned sofa
. “I’ve got to go.”

I can hear Ashton calling for me, but I ignore him and rush out of my apartment, no doubt leaving a confused and highly concerned Ashton, but right now I need my best friend.

Chapter 15

I barrel my way into Caleb’s workplace, startling the receptionist as I make a sudden stop in front of her, my bag making a loud clanging sound against the wood of her desk. “Caleb Summers, please,” I pant, trying to catch my breath.

“He is in a meeting for the rest of the afternoon. Would you like to a schedule an appointment?”

I grasp hold of the desk, my hands turning white with the intensity of my grip. “No, I need to see him now,” I say urgently, my chin trembling, tears threatening to spill.

“I am sorry
, Miss, but that isn’t possible. I suggest that you schedule an appointment, the earliest you can see him is on Monday morning.”

I roll my eyes, becoming frustrated with the receptionist, my patience beginning to wear thin very quickly. “I need to see Caleb right this fucking minute. If you can tell him Ava Jacobson is here I would appreciate that, greatly,” I growl the last word, staring down at her with a scowl. I know it isn’t her fault that my life is a continuous fucking earthquake, but I need to see Caleb and she is stopping me from doing so. As I turn around, I see a security guy approaching the reception area, eyeing me in particular. I turn to face her, shaking my head at her au
dacity. “Are you kidding me?”

She doesn’t say anything, she just shrugs her shoulders and continues with her mundane task of typing, ignoring me as if I don’t even exist. I let out an angry exhalation, and I take a quick look towards the corridor where I know Caleb
’s office is, before flicking my eyes back to where the security man continues in my direction

“God, why can’t my life ever be simple,” I mumble to myself breathlessly, then I make a run for it. I only make it half way, befor
e I am being hauled to a stop.

“
Miss, you can’t be back here.”

“I just need to see Caleb Summers. I’m Ava Jacobson. I need to see him, it’s urgent.” I look up at the bald chubby man, his face impassive as he stares down a
t me.

“I don’t care who you are, or who you
’ve come to see. If you don’t have a visitors pass then you can’t be back here.”

Becoming even more exasperated with the situation by the second, I try to force his tight grip from my arm, but when he doesn
’t budge, I am reduced to screaming Caleb’s name at the top of my lungs. My behavior has me utterly mortified, but considering nobody will help me, I don’t have any other choice. This angers the security guy some more and before he can permanently remove me from the premises, Caleb comes rushing out of his office, with a look of alarm and confusion flitting across his face.

“Ava? What’s going on?” he asks, concerned. The security loosens his grip, then removes his hand from my arm when he notices the stern glare coming from Caleb. Seeing his beautiful face sets me off, and the tears begin to run down my face. I rush into his arms, sinking my f
ace into the crook of his neck.

“Jesus Christ, what’s wrong?” he says into my hair, his arms holding me close to his body as I continue to cry. When I don’t answer,
obvious panic begins to set in. “Shit, is it Sebastian, Lily-Mai?”

I shake my head into his neck, and then manage to breathe out a shuddered, “No
,” through my continuous cries. I feel him visibly relax, his hands stroking gentle patterns up and down my spine. “Then what is it? You’re starting to freak me out.”

I pull away slowly from his neck, taking an extra breath of oxygen through a silent sob, my throat feeling like hot razor blades when I take a gulp, preparing for the words of pure devastation, words I never thought in a million years would pass my lips.
“Fran, my sister, she’s dead.” As I say the words out loud for the first time, I gasp at the very realization of it, and this sets off a new set of sobs. Dead. My baby sister is dead. I throw myself back into the comforting arms of my best friend, returning to the safe cocoon of his neck. I feel a movement as Caleb lifts me into his arms and carries me, then sits me down on what feels like a couch. He kneels at my level, unraveling himself from my tight hold, pushing the hair that is welded to my cheek by my wet tears. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

I can only answer with a silent nod as he exits the room, and shuts the door securely behind him. Trying to control my breathing from my convulsing cries I take a quick look around at my new surroundings, noticing I must be in the company’s lounge area. In front of me sits a large plasma screen mounted in the center wall, three brown leather sofas face the center attraction in a square layout. To the right corner is a small state-of-the-art kitchenette with sleek black cupboards and a chrome finished sink, refrigerator and microwave and scattered among the kitchen sits three glass tables with four black
plastic chairs each.

Moments later
, Caleb comes back in, with a glass of water. He sits beside me, holding out the water for me. “Here you go sweetheart, drink that.”

I accept the glass of water with shaky hands and take a few small sips, then ke
ep the glass locked in my grip. “Your receptionist is a bitch, by the way,” I say through a hiccupping sob, glancing up at the concerned expression of Caleb.

“I’ll deal with her later,” he says in a stern ‘I’ll-take-no-shit’ attitude. “I just want to focus
on you. What happened?”

I bite against my already cut lip, forcing the tears back, but as I continue to bite against my bloody wound, it doesn’t stop the t
ears from falling down my face. “She killed herself. She killed herself to get away from my brother.”

I try to shake my head free
of the horrific images that continue to build in my mind, all of the painful images inflicted by the monster himself. Caleb is shocked into silence, opening his mouth, only to close it again, his face paling on the impact of my words.

“Caleb, he’s found me.”

Then the shock suddenly turns into anger. “That motherfucker,” he growls, his eyes turning to a deadly black. Through my falling tears, I continue. “He called the apartment; he-he’s the reason why she’s dead.” I take another soothing sip of the water, before cupping my fingers in a tight grip around the glass.

“Please tell me he didn’t? He hasn’t?”

I press my lips together on a trembling twitch as I look into his eyes, the feel of a powerful cry building up from inside my chest. “Yes,” I say through a shrieking cry, my shoulders rising up and down with my sobs.

“Oh, Ava,” he soothes. He quickly takes my glass away, and he surrounds my body within the warm embrace of his arms, rocking me back and forth,
comforting me through my howling cries.

“It’s all my fault,” I mumble into Caleb’s chest, Avery’s words c
ircling my brain. The prominent words of,
“well if you hadn’t have left in the first place, none of this would have
happened,”
going over and over in my head.

“It’s not your fault, baby. You’re not the molesting bastard. He needs fucking castrating,” he hisses as he holds against me tightly
, kissing the hair on my head.

“No, but I ran away from him, without thinking about the possibility of him turning to my sister, of hurting her, and he did. He fucking did. The bastard did,” I say hysterically into Caleb’s chest, anger and gu
ilt swimming through my veins. “I would have never left if I would have known. But I should have known. I should have fucking known!” I scream, teetering on the edge of sanity, but it doesn’t stop me. “She was fucking twelve-years-old when I left! Twelve! Shit!” I feel Caleb’s soothing hands at the nape of my neck, cradling me in his lap, continuing to rock me back and forth, his lips gently planted at the top of my head.

“I could have stopped it. I could have told somebody, I could have protected her. I could have saved her! It
’s all my fault!” My own screaming silences me and my raw throat feels as if a million shards of glass have sliced it wide open.

“Hush baby, it’s okay. It’s all okay, just cry it out.” Caleb says, but it isn’t okay at all. My baby sister is dead because I was too scared to tell somebody. If I did, my sister would still be alive. I was supposed to protect her from him but instead I ran. And now she
’s dead.

“I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!” I repeat over and over again, my voice cracking at the in
tensity of my screaming cries.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I feel myself stirring from a heavy sleep, and my eyelids flutter with disorientation as a comforting sensation of fingertips caressing my hair overwhelms me. I open my eyes to an upside down Caleb. I squint through my confusion until I come to realize I have my head laid in his lap.

“Hey, streaky,
” he says with a frown, which is actually just an upside down smile, and continues to stroke my hair. Streaky? I rack my brains for a moment until I come to realize he’s referring to the pink paint streaks covering my face from the earlier paint fight. I must look a fright. If I weren’t so distraught, I might actually give a crap.

“Hi,” I attempt but with the closing up of my throat,
I can barely manage a whisper.

“Water?” he questions, and I stupidly reply with a wispy,
“yes,” then realize again how I can barely speak. I sit up from his lap as he retrieves the glass of water and passes it to me. I give an attentive groan as the water glides down my throat painfully, but after a few more gulps, it slowly begins to ease.

“Thank you,” I whisper, once I have f
inished my last drop of water. “Did I fall asleep?”

Caleb nods, reaching for me, pulling me into his chest. I accept easily, crawling into his lap. “Yes, you were asleep for a good h
our. You tired yourself out.”

After a few minutes of silence, it’s Cale
b who is the first to speak up. “When’s the funeral?”

“It
’s on Sunday,” I respond quietly, still having a hard time processing the news.

“Are you going to go?”

I shrug my shoulders. I hadn’t given it much thought until right now. “I don’t know,” I sigh. Then an image of my beautiful girl flashes before me, taking the decision away from me immediately. I can’t leave her. “No. I can’t. I can’t leave Lily.”

“I think you might regret not going though,” he
says with a sympathetic tone.

“But what other choice do I have? There is no way I can leave my daughter, to fly to Florida. I wish I could be in two places at once, but I can’t,” I say sadly. “Plus, the thought of having to face him, I…I just can’t.” It’s one thing to speak to him on the phone but to be in his presence for one moment is just too much for me to stomach. I feel nause
ous just at the thought of it.

“Yes you can. You shouldn’t have to dictate your life around that low life scumbag. If you want to go and say goodbye to your sister, then you should. I know that if you don’t, you will regret it for the rest of your life. I know you.” He touches my nose with his forefinger, making my nose scrunch up. I know he’s r
ight. I will regret it but what am I supposed to do? My daughter is still in the hospital. I can’t just leave her.

“But what about Lily? I can’t just leave her for a coupl
e of days. I need to be here.”

“You have been by her bedside for nine weeks, day in, day out, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. A couple of days away from her will not replace that, you
’re a brilliant mom, but you need this, you need to say goodbye to your sister,” he says firmly.

I want to go, I want to say goodbye to my sister one last time, but a hundred different things continue to stop me.
 “But what if something happens and I’m not here, I just…I-” He places his index finger against my mouth, stopping me in mid speech. “Stop it with the insecurities. She will be fine. I promise.”

“But? I-” I continue, the insecurities still battling through my body. He places his firm finger across my lips again, abruptly stopping me
from speaking out another word. “But nothing,” he says, gently pushing a piece of hair away from my face. “Lily is doing amazingly well, she is healthy and strong. You have nothing to worry about. And on Monday, she will still be healthy and strong, even more so. It’s just two days. Two days, so you can say goodbye to the other little girl who holds a piece of your heart. She might not be here anymore, but she still needs her big sister. Go, say goodbye. I will be with you. You won’t be alone in this. You have me.”

The sound of jingling keys wakes me up from my solemn haze, quickly coming to realize we are outside my apartment. I sigh sadly, not even remembering how we got home. I don’t dwell on that, I just shuffle my way through my front door, dragging my almost lifeless body through the small foyer. I hear the door close behind me, and the feel of Caleb’s hands stroking against the top of my arms.

“I’ll go and run you a bath.” He kisses my cheek from behind, then continues through the living room but stops dead in his tracks as Ashton stands up from the sofa,
an anxious look on his face.

“Ava,” he breathes, a sigh of relief rolling from his lips. I see Caleb’s scrutinizing look between the both of us, confusion etched across his forehead. Ashton walks toward my limp body, ignoring the baffled glare he is receiving from Caleb, his eyes only focused on me. I want to smile at
his beautiful face but all I manage is a feeble frown as the devastation continues to bubble through me, making me feel paralyzed from the inside out.