22. Cal

22

CAL

A few days of Ava being home, I'm failing her again. She has succumbed to the terror in her mind that is holding her hostage. The Giovanni brothers, Paige and I thought if she could just exist with no pressure for a few days, that it would help to revive her.

I was wrong. Oh, so very terribly wrong.

Now, I need to rectify the situation. I hate to do it, but it needs to happen. With the decision made, I leave my command center, shaking off the bad news. I have spent months and months hunting for any news on Kiel's whereabouts. I will keep turning over rocks until I find him and eviscerate him. Unfortunately, no one has heard from that bastard. Stomping up the stairs, I hesitate at the door, breathing in deeply. None of this is Ava's fault. I want to have a calm collected aura around her. I don't want to make things worse.

I push the door open, doing my damnedest to box up the shitstorm brewing before I walk through the threshold and come to halt just short of the bed. She hasn't moved. She is in the same position she has been for days: curled into a ball in the center of this nest of blankets and pillows. Her eyes are open. She's staring into space as though she is lost, floating on the broken memories her brain is still trying to process.

Cracking my neck, I turn and head to the bathroom. I start running the water, feeling for the right temperature. I plug the tub, pouring in a bunch of smelling good shit, and prepare myself for what is about to happen.

"Ava," I call gently. "You need to get up. If you don't get up…" I sigh, leaving the empty threat hanging. I'm not going to really do anything, but maybe that would spark her sassiness to jump out. It doesn't. I grumble about my displeasure. "Okay, you leave me no choice."

Dipping down, I rip the covers off her. She snaps up and screams at me. Claws at the ready, she goes straight for the eye, my vicious little thing. I bat her hands away. She is so weak from lack of food that this is child's play. I lean down, carefully and softly snatching her up in my arms. She continues to wiggle and turn as if she were a caterpillar stuck on its back.

Once securely in my arms, the fight all but leaves her. She doesn't have the strength to sustain her actions. Yet another punch to the gut, another visual reminder of how I failed her.

Stalking to the bathroom, I place her on the countertop. Giving her a stern look, I turn back to check the water temp and levels.

"Don't move." The bubbles have tripled, covering the whole tub in light fluffiness. The water is toasty. It should help alleviate any soreness and aches in her muscles.

Ava's hoarse voice sounds muffled against the raging water as the tub continues to fill. "Cal, I don't want this. Take me back."

I shake my head, turning off the water and facing her with my arms crossed. "No, Ava. Not happening. You will get in this tub and get clean." I soften my words. "Then, you can go back to bed." A look of indignation flies over her face, and her shoulders drop, her body submitting before her mouth.

"Fine. B-but …" she hesitates, then straightens those slumped shoulders. Her voice gains a bit of steel. "But, you need to leave. I can bathe myself."

I flinch at her request. Kiel has done so much damage. He's broken something in her that I hope and pray can heal. I won't give up on her, but I need the chance to show that to her. I drop to my knees, reaching for her deliberately with care. I want her to see my hand coming. I want her to make the choice to accept my touch. Ava holds still, watching my hands. There is a flash of emotion in her eyes, but it quickly dies.

"Ava, would you do me the honor of allowing me to care for you?" I wait. "You deserve to be lavished with intentions of pure love and adoration. Let me remind you what it feels like. Allow my humble affection to light the candle that you are protecting deep within your soul." I watch as a single tear falls from her eye, cascades down the hollow of her cheek, ending its journey on my hand.

She stares at me a moment longer before conceding. When she raises her arms, I stand up and approach her as though she is an injured animal with fear lingering in her eyes. I know what I need to do. Helping her remove her dirty clothes, she hops off the counter to drop her panties. I bite back an expletive. She is skin and bones. I worry she is trying to starve herself to death. Keeping my emotions on lockdown, I guide her to the tub and help her get settled.

Grabbing the bottle of shampoo, I squirt a glob into my hands and meticulously lather her wet locks, massaging her scalp. The goal is to soothe her, show her that not all hands are meant for evil. That not all men are the devil reincarnated who only search for their own pleasure. To remind her of the good and to show her through my actions how much I care. She sits quietly and unmoving. I rinse the shampoo and grab the conditioner, going through the same motions of gathering the hair, ensuring that her strands are covered. I rinse it out before carefully twisting her hair up on the top of her head, tying it up into a messy bun.

Standing up, I look at Ava. No longer needing to tilt her head back, she now has her chin resting on her knees. She embodies vulnerability and it crushes me. I squat back down to her level. "Ava, go ahead and wash up. I'm going to go change out your sheets, then I will be back to help you out of the tub." She doesn't even blink. It's as though I am not here. She is so lost in her mind, and I'm determined to help her find her way home.

Walking from the bath, I come to stand next to the bed. I take a minute. Just one minute for myself. I allow the anger, the heartbreak, and anguish to devour me, letting it engulf my heart and soul. This is nothing compared to what she is battling. My need to find Kiel and tear him apart piece by piece is growing stronger every day. I can't wait until we find him.

I make quick work of the bedding. The sheets are stale with the smell of pain, desperation and fear. In the past, fear was a scent I thrived on. It showed me that I was close to the answers I needed and wanted. It was a part of the job. Smelling her fear, it shreds a part of my soul. Maybe, with clean sheets that smell of lavender, it will ease her fear and smother her nightmares. Tossing the dirty sheets aside, I make quick work of making the bed. Finishing with my task, I walk back to the bathroom.

Stepping into the room, I halt. My eyes must be playing tricks on me. I watch quietly as Ava glides the soap loofah up and down her arms. It's a small action, but a huge step. She is not simply sitting staring into the nothingness. She is caring for herself.

Clearing my throat to warn her that she now has company, she doesn't startle. Another victory I'll take.

"Have you finished?" She nods. I hold out the large bath towel for her. "Can you stand up for me?" She nods her agreement, but struggles to stand.

Reaching for her hand, I gently pull her to a stand and wrap the towel around her fragile frame. Lifting her from the now tepid water, I place her to stand on the fluffy bath mat where I dry her off quickly. Handing her the clean nightgown and panties, I wait as she dresses. I guide her back to sit on the bed and dry her hair. Placing the towel aside, I run a comb through her wet locks to ensure there are no knots. Once the task is finished, I pull back the covers and tuck Ava in.

Tossing the towel in the pile with the dirty sheets, I put the comb on the nightstand, crawl into bed and cover up. I lay on my back, just listening to her stuttered breathing. The space between could fit her three brothers. Or at least it feels that way. I don't want to complain. I can at least sleep in the same bed. Her nightmares don't worsen in my presence, but they don't get any better either. I'm grateful we found her, but can she battle her demons without breaking further? I just don't know. The ‘what if' questions continue to pile on top of me as I start to slide into slumber.

Movement wakes me. It takes a moment to realize that it's not an enemy sneaking into my room. The shifting is much closer; the mattress dips again. I freeze, not wanting to scare her. Ava is sliding closer to me. Heart pounding. I dare not breathe as she moves again. She wants to be nearer to me. She is still an arm length away, but she is no longer sleeping on the edge of the bed.

A smile slips across my lips, a foreign sensation fills me.

Hope.