I snatch the check from her and shove off the table. Standing in front of her, I pull out my lighter and torch one corner of the check, then use it to light another cigarette.
“I don’t need anyone’s fuckin’ charity,” I mumble, the cig wagging between my lips. The check burns all the way down to the corner I’m holding, and then I flick it to the ground.
A patronizing smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “Well, any rational person would see that as a business transaction, but you do you,Vincent.”
Ava turns in the chair, going back to whatever the hell she’s working on, typing quickly and efficiently, and my veins are now burning even hotter than the cherry in my friggin’ cigarette. I pace furiously behind her, chain-smoking and repeatedly kicking the concrete because I just want to fucking hit something right now. She continues to type nonchalantly, legs crossed under the table while she lightly taps the base with the toe of one of her little, white sneakers. The shorts she’s wearing make her slender legs look even longer than they did in the gold, beaded dress, and now all I can think of is her standing in the darkened doorway, grabbing Patrick’s hand to slide it up under her skirt.
I toss the cigarette onto the concrete, grind it out with my heel, and then plant one hand on the table next to her laptop as I lean close to her face. “I’m kinda shocked that you actually got the lady balls to mouth off at me now. I guess all you needed was some dick to make you less uptight and insecure.”
“I guess so,” she retorts without missing a beat. “It was some really gooddick. After all…” She pauses and turns to me, and our mouths are separated by only a breath of distance. “You did say you heard me screaming.” She smirks and looks back at her screen, sighing contentedly. “Yeah, I don’t even remember the last time I had dickthat was thatgood. Maybe I’ll go sneak into Patrick’s room tonight for round two.”
I slap the lid of her laptop shut, nearly slamming it on her fingers, but she jerks them out of the way at the last second. “Maybe I’llthrow you out on the street and let that virus land your ass in the ICU, you loose cunt.”
Ava shoves back the chair with a jarring scrape of metal on concrete and shoots up to stand toe-to-toe in front of me. She opens her mouth and sucks in a breath like she’s about to snap another retort at me, but she says nothing. The midmorning light spears a sunbeam across her face, causing her hazel eyes to glow like luminescent pools of gold flecked with emerald green. It also causes the welled-up rims of her eyes to glitter, and her slender throat pulses with a swallow.
“You got something to say to me, Ava?” I challenge her, angling my face over hers. “Maybe you’re gonna smack me for calling you what you are? Go ahead. I dare you. See what I’ll fuckin’ do back.”
Her lips part again, and her brows knit together, but she simply drops her head and steps back. She turns to the table and starts gathering her stuff, shoving it back into the red tote bag. Once the table’s cleared, she opens the bag, sticking her hand inside as though checking for something, then closes it and heaves the straps onto her shoulder.
She marches inside, and I wouldn’t put it past her to go straight to wherever Patrick is so she can do exactly what she said she was going to. And nobody, notnobodyin this house is going to lay a finger or any other body part on her if Ican’t. So I march after her, my shoes pounding the pavement and echoing across the stone walls of the courtyard.
Ava throws one of the doors open and stomps inside, and I’m right on her heels. She speed-walks through the house, but when she reaches the formal living room, she doesn’t hook a left toward the staircase, rather she makes a beeline for the front door.
There’s no way she’s doing that.
Her hand grips the doorknob, twisting it, and she pulls the door open.
Andthen, she steps outside and slams the door behind her.
Holy fuck.
The red-hot rage that’s been simmering in my veins all day as a result of all the fucking shitthat’s going on suddenly runs ice-cold with fear.
She couldn’t possibly have thought I was seriousabout throwing her out with that virus running rampant. Surely, she knows that I’m all bark and no bite. I’ve just got a temper. I never did shit to Gia after she stabbed me in the back and nearly got me killed, so why the fuck would I do anything to actuallyhurt Ava?
But then again, Ava doesn’t know anyof that.
I sprint to the front door and throw it open. Poking my head outside, I clutch the collar of my shirt to cover my nose and mouth, just in case this fucking virus is airborne and it’s just hanging out in the atmosphere waiting to infect everyone’s lungs.
“Ava!” She’s already way the hell up the street. Some random dude is on the same sidewalk, heading right for her with nothing covering his nose and mouth. “Ava!”
She stops and stands still for a minute before turning around. She’s holding the collar of her tank top over her nose and mouth, causing the hem to lift and expose her tight, nipped-in waist. The pale pink fabric has some damp, black streaks on it like she wiped her mascara-saturated tears with it.
“Fuck,” I huff. “Come back inside.”
She just stands there, staring at me with her spilling hazel eyes, while her hitched breathing causes her shirt to repeatedly flatten and release against her nose and mouth.
“Jesus Christ.” I glance around to see if anyone else is in the vicinity. Even if there wasn’t a virus, the streets of New Orleans aren’t exactly safe for a young woman to be out strolling around by herself. “Ava. I wasn’t fucking serious. Come back.”
She stares at me for a few more seconds, then glances around, and finally begins slowly plodding back toward me.
She stops at about half an arm’s length in front of me.
I push the door wide and hold it open for her with my back. “Come on. This is ridiculous.”
She doesn’t move yet. “You know what’s really ridiculous?”
I hitch a shoulder. “You running outside like this.”
