Page 98 of Ricochet
I had to protect my family, and if that meant destroying somebody else’s, so be it. I wasn’t ashamed of who I was, not anymore. If I had to kill, maim and torture to get what I wanted and to ensure the safety of those I loved, I didn’t mind. People did worse for lesser things, and family was important.
Even if I wanted to slice my own father at least five days out of seven, he was still my father. Even if I wanted to strangle my junkie mother, she was still my mother. Theo could probably die for all that I cared, but if Papa asked me to save him or to avenge him, I would.
“Don’t worry about them, Ava. Men are like puppies. You show them some treats, and they come running.”
“Those are not puppies, Phee. Those men are pit bulls, and they wouldn’t mind ripping us apart.”
“Okay, first,” I lifted my thumb, “pit bulls are actually just big babies—”
“Aha, and I am chihuahua,” she interrupted.
“Second of all,” I lifted my index finger, laughing at her comparison, “don’t worry about it.” I stood up, walking to the dresser and looking at the picture there. It was two of us, fresh out of Primary School. We looked so cute together, and who would’ve thought we would be here. I never even dreamed about this.
“If you say so, but they looked terrifying.”
“Did they hurt you when I left with Storm?” I turned around, trying to gauge her feelings.
“Well, no.” She seemed to think about it. “They were actually quite nice, if I’m being honest. They even offered to take me for lunch while you two were doing God knows what.”
“We were just talking.” I laughed. “Besides, they’ll be helping us.”
“What do you mean?” A wary expression passed over her face, her eyes narrowing on me. “You don’t mean—”
“Oh yes. I told you I need to get you out of here, and what better way than to do it with the help of somebody that powerful.”
“Phee,” she approached me, “I’m not sure if I like this very much.”
“It’s been decided, Ava. Storm will help to get us to the West Coast, and from there, you guys can decide to either stay with the club or live somewhere else.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
She kept quiet for a second, before the widest fucking smile I’ve ever seen, spread across her face.
“I would tackle you on the floor right now if I knew you wouldn’t bite my head off because I dared to hug you.”
She was brimming with happiness and I felt the same. In some fucked up way, even being the way I was, I was happy when my people were happy. I loved seeing her like this—carefree, without that permanent scowl she wore for the last couple of years.
Things were finally looking good, and I knew it would only go better in the future. I just knew it.
“Okay.” I eyed her. “You can hug me, but just for—”
I couldn’t even finish the sentence before she threw herself at me, squeezing the life out of me. I could already see the headlines,Ophelia Aster, Killed by a Hug.
But if it was by Ava, I would allow it.
“Can you imagine our futures, Phee?” I could, almost. “My kids growing up far away from this cursed place, from this family. You having kids.”
Okay, hold up, hold up. I never agreed to having kids.
“Uh—”
“Them playing together, us yelling after them.”
Next thing, she would be telling me we lived next to each other, in those houses with white picket fences and our husbands as best friends.
“I can already see it, Phee. Two girls and two boys from each of us.”
