Chapter 180: Time to finish this

Avery's POV

It was already about an hour since Abigail was found, and Avery was sitting alone, the rain pounding on the window sill. Everything felt too quiet. Too still.

Avery sat in the shower with all her clothes on, the water scalding hot. She couldn't feel anything but the sound of Abigail's breathing — wet, struggling — echoing over and over again in her ears.

The face. The bruises . The card.

You took one of ours. We decided to return the favor.

She hadn't even gotten the courage to go to her friend and speak to her, because she doesn't even know if she'll want to speak to her too. Avery felt like she had dragged Abigail into this mess without her knowledge or approval, now here she was bruised, battered and half dead, her boys left alone.

Her boys. Fuck, she didn't even get to ask if they were okay, and she didn't hear her say anything about them.

What if…. What if they'd hurt them? What if they've taken them?

Avery pressed the heels of her palms over her mouth as a sob tore out. The sob was sharp, mirroring how she was feeling. Broken, silent, aching.

“Why though? Why did it have to be like this?” She muttered to herself. “I had done everything right. I had fought, trained, confronted Matteo, and still someone else had paid the price. Someone that wasn't even aware of anything that was happening.”

Dario waited outside the bathroom door, back against the wall. He didn’t knock. Didn’t speak. Just waited—like a man keeping watch at a storm’s edge, although this time, the storm was in his chest rather than in the ocean.

When the water running in the bathroom stopped, the silence felt like a scream.

Eventually, the door creaked open. Avery stepped out, wrapped in a towel, eyes bloodshot and empty of feeling, face blank.

Dario, noting the expression on her face, got up from the wall he was leaning on, but before he could do anything, she spoke.

“Don't, Dario. Don't tell me I was brave.” Her voice was cracked and raw. “Don't tell me it's not my fault.”

Dario just stood before her and slipped his hands in his pockets.

“I won't.”

That made her freeze in her spot and look at him, shock filling her. “You won't?”

He took a few steps closer, and gently took the edge of her towel, pulling it tighter around her shoulders like it was some sort of protective armor.

“No, because it wasn't your fault. But I know that words won't make you believe that, so I'm not going to lie to you. I'm just going to stay.”

She looked up, the vulnerability and appreciation behind her eyes bleeding out.

“She screamed because of me.” Avery whispered, unable to stomach the thought.

“She lived because of you.” His voice was quiet. Soothing. Firm. “She got out. She's alive. Because you made a choice to be more than just some victim.”

Tears spilled again, but it was quieter this time. Less rage and more grief, and Dario went forward and wrapped her in a comforting, firm hug.

“I thought… I thought it was over. Just for a second. I thought maybe we could breathe.”

At those words, Dario took her hands and guided her to the bed, sitting with her.

“It's not over, my little vesper. Not yet. But we breathe anyway. One breath at a time. Together.”

She leaned her head on his chest, trembling, sobs racking through her. “Have you heard from Abigail? About her boys?”

Dario had noticed all along that something else was pestering her mind, but he had no idea what it was. Now he did.

“Yes. I asked her and she said that they had left the country earlier yesterday's evening with someone Carl sent and that they've called her. They're safe with Carl. She was supposed to go today though, but I've spoken with Carl and he understands that she won't be able to come.”

“Her modeling career.” Avery whispered into the cold air. “Will she be okay? You know, her body and stuff.”

“Yes, she will be okay. She has no cuts on her face, just a busted lip and a bruised jaw. But overall, she doesn't have much cuts and Madame Fiona came in and attended to her by herself. She has only a few broken bones and a bit of internal bleeding, but Madame Fiona says she'll be perfect in at most two weeks.”

Madame Fiona had indeed said that she'll be okay in two weeks, not ‘perfect’. And Dario had told Avery everything the way it was, not omitting anything, but making them smaller than they seem, just to at least get Avery to calm down a bit.

“Oh. Thank God for that.” Avery took a deep breath and laid back on Dario's chest, her eyes vacant and searching as she stared at the ceiling.

Dario had the urge to ask what was going on, but he held back, knowing that she was going to tell him when the time was right and when she felt comfortable doing so, although it ripped at his heart the longer he watched that sad expression worsening on her face.

Finally, after a few minutes, she said. “What if I lose someone else?” Her eyes still with that vacant, searching, sad gaze.

His lips pressed to her temple.

“Then we make sure they never get the chance.”

And in the darkness, as the storm rolled over the city, Avery finally let herself break,because she knew someone was there to help her piece it back together again. Not just anyone, but the one she prayed for.

“I want to go see Abby.” She muttered and as Dario nodded his head, she shrugged off his body and got up, feeling his warmth leave her.

“Alone.” She muttered as she noticed him getting up to move with her. He respectfully nodded and sat back down.

\~~~~~

Avery stepped into the room, heart thudding. Abigail was bandaged and pale, laying on the bed, with a tray of food laying untouched beside her. She wasn’t sure what scared her more—seeing Abigail hurt or seeing the way her own choices had rippled into someone else’s pain.