“Your da says you’ve been fighting.” I put my dukes up, smile menacingly.
“For cash,” he mutters.
“Aye? I’d say let’s take this outside, and you can show me a thing or two. But thisisthatkinda place.” I remove several crisp hundred-dollar bills, slapping them on top of the jukebox.
The pretty boy lifts a brow—oblivious numpty. Kiera takes my hand. “C’mon, it’s only a matter of time before Uncle Ewan’s other personality shows, and he’s complaining—”
“Nah, Ewan’s relaxed.”
The gears in Kiera’s brain churn faster. “Well, food’s on the table.”
Turning all my attention to my sister, I growl, “Go eat then.”
“Thanks for dinner, Kier. I’m gonna go . . .” Brennan backs away.
“Please,” Kiera grits out, tugging my arm. “You said I could be normal. Ava would—”
Fury burns through me. “Ava’s not . . .”
I catch the eye of a woman riding a mechanical bull.
“Go, Kiera,” I growl, still staring at the woman. “Don’t disrespect your clan,wean.”
As Kiera dashes out of my sight, I watch the Latina freely. She has glossy black hair, silky like Ava’s when straightened. The Latina’s face lights up with laughter.Feck, that’s the genuine happiness I sought for my little bird. A million images of us flurry through my mind. One blares out.
How wemet.
I’ve followed my crazy Uncle Ewan’s orders. He said it was my right totake. I never gave Ava a chance. The fire in my eyes fades. I hang my head and usher out a deep breath. Alright, maybe I won’t find her and return her to her rightful place—a birdcage—where I own the key. Maybe I’ll just confirm the lassie’s safe and not say a single thing to her. Which still begs the question, Where’smylittle bird?
44
Ava
Los Angeles, Ca
“If You Think You’re Lonely Now” plays on a loop in my brain. Tullah had a thing for Bobby Womack. My old teacher and temporary guardian angel dissolved into a swaying, eyes half-mast, reminiscent mess while singing. I thought I knew what lonely was while living in a parking structure and then under Adnan’s thumb. And let’s not forget how lonely I felt the nights Kieran forwentpunishing me with his silk bindings.
I had no idea of loneliness then. Not like this. For ninety days, I’ve awoken in existential loneliness. Between vengeance and a shit job as a maid, I’m balancing the line of mental fatigue and not having a care in the world.
An oscillating fan blows air at me in intervals. I flex my fingers around the aluminum armrest of the crappy chair I’m seated in and watch my attorney’s lips flap. Connie’s a light-skinned woman who favors humanity over expensive business suits. Although attempting to impart wisdom, she’s reminding me of the first cartoon I ever viewed in the US—Charlie Brown—with thewhamp, whamp, whamp.Her lips move like one would while reprimanding a loved one.
With a sudden twist in her lips, I tune in as she exaggerates, “Are you listening?”
“Yes,” I hiss, then measure out a sigh. “Connie, I appreciate how you gave me a place to stay since I returned to town.”
Overwhelmed, she forks back blunt bangs, which now stand on end. “Wherever you ran off to, I honestly wish you’d have stayed gone a while longer, sweetie.”
“It’s like that?” My sorry attempt at a smile wobbles from my lips.
“Girl, it couldn’t have been a tropical island,” she jerks a shoulder, “but you appeared well-rested, happy.”
Oye, Ireland was a million times better than a tropical island.
“Sam and I’ve worked ourselves ragged, building a case against Adnan,” Connie says of her uncle Samuel Billingslea, who was once a reputable DA in Los Angeles. As luck would have it, he retired only to pursue family law. Over a year ago, I came in for secret divorce advice. I’d overheard another student in college discussing the family law firm when her husband divorced her. After Connie heard my story and how I only desired freedom for myself and Arika, she enlisted her uncle’s help.
“I shouldn’t have taken Adnan’s files.” I levee the flood of tears with a silent growl.
“Ava,” Connie makes a tiny, distraught fist, “you tried to leverage your life. You gave Adnan everything.”