Lost Avalon: A Finding Nolan Novel (26 page)

Chapter 22

             
I didn’t much
care anymore how I had wound up there, but at last, I was in Blaise’s arms again. In the midst of recounting the events of the afternoon for the police officer interviewing me, two things had struck me, leaving marks on my heart that would be irreversible.

             
One, Blaise, the man I’d been destined to spend my life searching for, had found
me
. And two, the woman I’d thought had no fight left in her, had crashed her truck into a house to wage war for my life. It was humbling. And receiving that kind of love, filled my heart to the point of overflowing.

It seemed like an eternity, but eventually we were told that we were free to go. Royce had sent a car to come and get us, rescuing us from media hell on top of everything else.

              Sitting in the backseat of the SUV, I curled up to Blaise as close as I could.

“Are you okay?” His warm eyes washed over me with concern.

              “I’m fine. It’s just a lot to take in. All of this. My mom. You. I underestimated you both. I’m sorry.”

             
He shook his head sadly. “Don’t be. We gave you reason to. But I won’t again. Ever. The bar has been raised, Ava. You’ve always brought out the best in me and dealt with the worst. From now on, I’m saving the shit end for everyone else.”

             
I laughed. “Well, as your girlfriend, I appreciate the sentiment. But as your manager, I’m going to have to insist on receiving the shit end myself. It would just be bad for business otherwise.”

             
“You’re nuts.”

             
“You love me.”

             
“I do.” He kissed me tenderly, careful not to put too much pressure on my face because of the swelling. I could barely feel it anymore, but something told me come morning, it would be another story.

             
When we finally drove up at the house, Royce and the other two were already there waiting for us.

             
“Oh my God, Ava!” Royce pulled me in for a hug as soon as I got out of the car while Derek and Angel came to hover around us.

             
“I’m fine. Really. It’s worse than it looks.” I kissed his cheek and slid from his embrace back into Blaise’s.

             
“What about your brother? News said he was taken to the hospital.” Angel was studying Blaise like he knew there was more to the story. A lot more.

             
“Let’s get inside.” Blaise pointed up toward the front door. “There’s some stuff I need to tell you guys.”

             
Derek and Angel exchanged a loaded glance. Then another when they realized Royce didn’t seem to have any of their questions. However, rather than say anything else, they simply followed along as we all made our way up to the house.

             
“Why do I feel like the three of you know some stuff Angel and I don’t?” Derek asked the moment the door closed behind him.

             
“Because. Ava’s always known. And Royce…”

             
“Found out by accident. Trust me. This is not some secret club business I wanted to be a part of.” Royce was headed for the kitchen. “I’m making coffee. I know you want some Ava, anyone else?”

             
There was a set of consecutive grunts around the room, all indicating a yes and Royce disappeared beyond the arched doorway.

             
“Shit. I don’t even know where to start with any of this.” Blaise was sitting on the armrest of his couch, repeatedly running his hands over his face.

             
I went to stand beside him, my hand gently stroking his back. “Thing is, Linus is sick. He did what he did today because he suffers from schizophrenia, or at least, I’m assuming that’s what it is. He hasn’t been diagnosed yet. “

             
Angel looked confused. “Wait. You knew he was sick?”

             
I shook my head. “Not exactly. I mean, I suspected…”

             
Slowly Blaise began to lift his gaze. “My mother had it. It’s not proven to be hereditary, but the risk was there all along that one of us would develop it as well.”

             
“Fuck man, I had no idea.” Derek’s eyes were darting around the room helplessly.

             
The weight of the energy shifted into a more bearable state when Royce popped his head in.

             
“Coffee’s done. But there’s no way I’m running back and forth for the next five minutes bringing you each your mug. So you might as well get your asses up and come into the kitchen.”

             
It was exactly the break in conversation Blaise had needed.  It would be easy to redirect the topic back to the day’s events without having to delve any further into the past.

***

              It was nearly midnight when Derek and Angel left. After two by the time Royce strolled out the door and across the cobblestone path that lead to his own house.

             
“That was some day.” Ava leaned her head on my shoulder as we walked down the dark hallway toward the bedroom.

             
“Fucking nightmare is more like it.” I pushed the door open and flipped on the light.

             
“Think our lives will ever be normal?”

             
I shrugged. “Do you want them to be?”

             
She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. “Nah. We’d probably just get bored.”

             
“Speaking of getting bored, what happens next? Do we go back to life as usual starting tomorrow?” Because that would have been fine by me.

             
Ava sauntered her way to the bed, slipping out of her clothes as she went. She was down to her bare skin by the time she shimmied her way under the covers.

             
“No,” she said simply.

             
“Oh.”

             
“Are you going to just stand there staring at me from across the room or are you going to get your sexy ass into bed with me?”

             
The answer to that was obvious and seconds later I was lying beside her, holding her close.

             
“So, if we’re not going back to how things were, what are we doing?”

             
“We’re doing the right thing.”

             
What the hell did that mean? Were we running out and getting married? I mean, I wasn’t opposed to that, but beneath my asshole exterior I was a sentimental romantic to the very core. It went hand in hand with the troubled artist slash musician thing I had going on, so it worked for me. Point was, if we were getting married – when we got married – there would be a proper proposal. Grand. Unforgettable. Creative. And above all, romantic.

             
“Ava, you’re talking to someone who naturally comes by doing all the wrong things. You’re going to have to spell this shit out for me.”

             
She giggled. It was awesome. Stupidly, simplistically and utterly adorably awesome.

             
“I just mean, we can’t keep winging our relationship. We want to be together. We should structure our lives that way. You know, like, if we’re going to live together as a couple, it can’t just be me staying at your place. It should be our place.”

             
“So, are you saying you want to move?” Not that I wasn’t open to the idea, but I was kind of attached to my place. Although, if I thought about it, I was attached to it because of Ava. She’d been there for all of it. The house hunting, making the offer. Moving in. Shit, she’d basically decorated the entire place. Then there’d been all the other little things. Like last Christmas when she’d insisted on getting a tree and hanging stockings for each of us, and I’d be damned if they hadn’t both been filled come Christmas morning.

Anyway, I guess it stood to reason, I’d get equally attached to any other house provided she was a part of it.

“I don’t want to move. I just don’t want to feel like this is temporary.”

“It’s definitely not temporary.” I frowned just saying the word. I was sick of temporary. Temporary happiness could suck it. I was in it for the long haul this time.

“Relax, dude. I know it’s not. But if I’m going to lay my head down to sleep in here night after night, this room’s gotta lose the single guy vibe.”

I was about to ask her what she was talking about when my eyes caught on the half-naked woman on display across the room. It was art, but whatever. Probably not something a chick would go out of her way to hang on the wall.

“So you need to move in. Like, really move in. Bring your stuff. More than likely you need to get
more
stuff…and you need to figure out what you want to do with your house.”

She nodded. “Oh, I already know. I’m going to keep it. Not for me. I want to move my mother into it. And maybe my sister if things go south between her and her English professor.” She laid her head back on her pillow and stretched out. “I haven’t heard any more about it, but I know my sister. She won’t feel right about breaking the rules just once. She’ll have to push it. See how long she can get away with it.” Ava shook her head and rolled back onto her side to face me. “Anyway, my mom hasn’t wanted to leave the old place any time I’ve asked before, but maybe after what happened there today, she’ll be ready to let it go. I think we all deserve to put the past behind us. It’s been holding us back for long enough.”

I pulled her to me closer. She’d said everything that needed to be said. We’d finally taken the time we both needed to face what was left and heal what we could. There would be no more looking back now. Not when we finally knew what we had to look forward to.

Chapter 23

The next few
weeks literally flew by. The guys finished up the album. I went back to work, which thanks to Francis was a relatively easy transition to make. For the most part everything seemed to be right with the world again. Better even. There were minor setbacks, like district attorneys and judges, both of which I’d had to face to make my statement regarding Linus and the attack.

             
Between his condition and the overwhelming amount of evidence in relation to the murder of his girlfriend and subsequent attempt on my life, the case would never go to trial. It was simply a matter of attorneys coming to a mutual agreement regarding the best way to move forward. There would be no justice. Not for anyone. How could there be in cases like this?

             
Of course the media had enjoyed a long and lustrous ride on the wave of Linus’s undoing. I’d blocked any and all attempts to get an interview directly from Blaise about the situation, but that hadn’t stopped them from jumping to their own conclusions and then printing those theories in black and white for the rest of the world to read as fact when in reality it was predominantly fiction.

             
Blaise didn’t care. For the first time, outside opinions didn’t matter to him. It was amazing. And freeing. For both of us, because I suddenly no longer felt obligated to throw a rug on everything just to keep prying eyes from discovering something they weren’t supposed to. Sure, he had a right to his privacy, but this time it didn’t come at the expense of my honesty.

             
“Did you see these yet?” I handed Blaise the proofs for the new album cover. I’d been wandering through the house in search of him for at least ten minutes. I should have known I’d find him in the bedroom. Even after I’d made a few adjustments to the space, it had remained his favorite room in the house. Probably because it housed his guitar pick collection.

             
“Hey, they didn’t turn out half bad.” He was flipping through the images. Even in the age of everything digital, some things were still better in print. “Let me guess, this one’s your favorite.”

             
I leaned in to see which one he was talking about. “Yeah. Not even close. I like that one.” I tapped the one just behind it.

             
“Hm. Not bad.”

             
“Um, it’s pretty fucking perfect. And it’s the one we’re using.”

             
“Is that even up to you?” He cocked his brow at me skeptically.

             
I mirrored him. “Is it not?”

             
“Well, I don’t mean to burst your bubble babe, but we usually vote on it.”

             
I grinned and rolled my eyes. He was so naïve. “Sure you do.” I took the prints from him and laid them on the dresser. Then I swung my leg over his lap and straddled him. “Or, maybe I pick out your covers. I show Royce, who naturally agrees because he has fantastic taste like I do. Then I show them to Angel because I know he won’t give a shit at which point I come to you just to see where you’re at. If you go with my pick, awesome. If not. It still comes out two against you and Derek. If you both choose different covers I automatically get my way, or better yet, you both agree and it’s a tie and I get called in to break it, in which case I still get what I want. But you’re right. You do usually vote on it.”