It takes me a moment to push through the sharp reality stabbing inside my chest. “Owen won’t give him my blood sample, right?”
Ellis nods with zero hesitation. “He’s one hundred percent trustworthy.”
I wish I could believe him, but unlike Ellis, I’m not so sure I believe anyone is one-hundred percent trustworthy.
Call me jaded, or tainted by too much darkness, but I believe almost everyone has a point where they will break trust.
But maybe that’s all I know.
I guess I don’t have a choice, though, but to put one hundred percent of my trust in Ellis. Perhaps he can be the person to prove my theory wrong —that not everyone is a liar.
That not everyone has a monster living inside them.
18
AVA
Jason’s truck is still in the parking lot when Ellis and I leave the doctor’s office. I’m glad since that means he didn’t get the chance to notice Ellis’s SUV was still there, and that we snuck inside. It’s nearing the time when I’m supposed to be meeting the person at the bar, so we drive over there. Ellis wants me to record the conversation with a recording device. I agree but still worry I might get caught. He also wants me to have a phone call with him while I’m inside the bar. The plan is that I’ll leave my phone on mute, so he can remain in the SUV but will still know what’s going on inside. I actually prefer it this way. I was already concerned Ellis might be spotted if he went inside.
“And if you feel threatened or unsafe at all, just leave. Don’t worry about not getting answers. Your safety is the top priority, okay?” Ellis says as he hands me the recording device.
Nodding, I drop the device into my bag. “Okay.”
“Ava, I’m serious,” he stresses with his arm resting on the steering wheel. “I don’t want to offend you, and this isn’t meant to be mean, but I feel like you sometimes have a hard time putting your own needs first.”
At first, I start to protest, but then stifle the urge, knowing he’s right. “I know, but I’m working on that.”
“Good.” He faces forward in the seat, staring at the back entrance to the bar. “Are you going to be okay around alcohol?”
He knows me too well.
“It won’t be easy, but I know I need a clear head, so I won’t drink.” I reach for the door handle to get out.
He gently places a hand on my arm. “Please be careful.”
The worry in his eyes causes me to swallow down a shaky gulp.
“I will.” I get out, close the door, but don’t start toward the bar.
The rain has eased up, but the sky remains a bleak shade of grey. I wish the sun were out. I wish it were clearer. But maybe this is how it has to be. Perhaps I have to remain in the shadows for a while until I find my way to the sunlight.
The gravel crunches against the soles of my shoes as I cross the parking area. When I enter the bar, music touches my ears, and the scent of booze stings my nostrils. The place is relatively empty—a few people sitting at a table, and two others are at the bar. I skim the dark space before taking a seat at the corner table where it’s lowkey. I place my bag on my lap, like a security blanket. Then I check the time.
They should be here by now.
I start to fidget with a saltshaker that’s on the table. More time ticks by. Was someone just messing with me about this? Camilla maybe? She’s been fairly aggressive toward me. Not that I blame her?—
I startle as a person steps up beside the table. I peer up and find the bartender standing there.
“Are you Ava?” he asks with annoyance.
I nod, confusion webbing through me. “Yeah.”
“Someone called and left a message for you.” He hands me a piece of paper. “For future reference, this isn’t a damn messageservice. Tell the person who called that too.” He reels around and storms off toward the bar.
With trembling fingers, I unfold the note.
There’s a red car parked out front. Take the front entrance and climb into the passenger side.
