My blood runs cold and rushes to my feet. For a moment, I can’t breathe or move or speak.
Ava is naked in front of the bed, lying on her side with her arms around her head and her knees pulled up to her chest. She’s lying in an awkward, unnatural position, and her hair is a matted mess. Even in the candlelight, I can see the bruises forming on her hips and backside.
“Ava…” I whisper her name with what little breath I can find, terrified that I will receive no response at all.
Ava takes a sudden, audible breath and grabs for the robe lying next to her. She pulls it up against her body, covering her face with the edge of it as she rolls to her side again. I manage to inhale and force myself to move to her side. When she peers out from around her arm, I can see her blackened eye and red-marked face.
“Ava, what the hell?” I reach out and touch her arm.
“Get away from me!” she shrieks and tries to shove me away.
“It’s just me.” I wrap my fingers around her wrist to keep her from hitting me and try to calm her down.
She stops struggling and looks me in the eye for a moment before bursting into tears. She wraps her arms around my neck as I pick her up and place her gently on the bed. I look her over, determining that she doesn’t have any serious wounds, but she’s still badly hurt. It takes several minutes for her to calm down enough to speak.
“What happened?” I try to reposition her robe to wrap her up in it as Ava tells me about the man from across the river—the one she told me about before—and what he’d done to her.
“He was always rough,” she says softly, “but never like this before. He just started hitting me over and over again. He wouldn’t stop.”
“Big guy?” I ask. “Dark hair, stupid moustache?”
She nods.
A small, hot knot forms in my stomach and then starts to move up. I can taste bile in the back of my throat, and my hands start to shake. All my muscles tense as I push myself off the bed.
“I’ll kill him.” The words come out like a snarl as I reach down and touch the handles of my knives.
“No!” Ava claws at my arm, linking her fingers in mine. “Talen, no!” Her tone changes abruptly from demanding to pleading. “Don’t leave me! Please!”
The look in her eyes isn’t quite right. She’s frightened, yes, but not because she thinks he’s going to come back here and hurt her again. I get the idea she doesn’t want me going after him. She pulls on my arm, and I drop back down to my knees beside her.
“All right,” I say softly. “I’m staying. It’s okay.”
I lie down beside her and cradle her in my arms as she cries. I’m tense—trying to keep my arms from shaking with the rage inside of me. I grip my hands into fists, crossing my wrists and holding Ava close to my chest.
When I close my eyes, I see the man outside the tent, the grin on his face, and I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid. He was right there in front of me, and I had no idea what he’d just done. He walked away from me with a smile.
I try to recall everything she told me about him yesterday, but all I really know is that he lives and works across the river. In the past, he has come to her on Fridays, when the plastic workers are paid, but he came a day early. He probably didn’t even have any money to pay her.
Tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow he will have coin, and he’ll be looking to spend it somewhere. It’s unlikely that he’d be brazen enough to come back here, but there are predictable places on the other side of the river where a man like him would go on a Friday night.
I will find him, and I will remove that smile forever.
After some time, Ava quiets her cries and asks me to make her some of her special tea. I find a small clay teapot and a cup, both made from volcanic ash. The dishes are smooth and properly fired, and I wonder where she found them, but I don’t ask. She sips the tea slowly, probably not even registering the taste. She stares at the floor for a while before she finally speaks.
“Why are you back so soon, anyway?” She glances up at me and then back to the floor.
“I’d rather not say.” I shake my head. “It’s all rather embarrassing.”
“Must be a good story, then.” Ava sniffs and clears her throat. “Tell it to me. I need something else to think about.”
I don’t really want to talk about my evening, but Ava looks at me pleadingly. I consider making up some tall tale just to amuse her but ultimately decide to give in and tell her the truth.
“Well, I was out looking for things,” I say, “and I found someone else doing the same thing.”
“Another thief?”
“Hush, you,” I say with a wink. “I’m the head of lost and found.”