Little Fury: Book 1 of The deadly Little Thing Trilogy
Little Fury: Chapter 35

I’m off my spot and running to the woman to see what is happening. She is holding a baby of about six months and pointing out to the water. I see what she is screaming about. There is a little boy out there, way too far out and going under the water. “Fuck.” I look at the teenagers standing and staring as this kid drowns. “Hey!” I grab the girl closest to me. She looks at me. “You see that house there? The white one with blue trim?”

“Si.”

“Run there and tell Jake to come fast.” She doesn’t move, so I scream at her, “Run!” She and her friends snap out of it and take off toward my house. I run into the water, seeing the little boy, and he’s gone again. I dive into the water and swim out to where I saw him go under. I can’t see him, so I dive deeper searching for him. I can’t replace him and have to come up for air.

I submerge again, this time going deeper. I keep swimming down not replaceing anything until I see a mop of brown hair. The saltwater is hurting my eyes, but I keep them open. I swim down more, and more, my lungs burning. Just when I think my lungs will explode, I can reach him. I grab him by the arm and start our ascent. I feel like my lungs are going to explode. I break the surface, sucking in a massive lungful of air and getting my arm around the little boy to keep his head above the water. He isn’t breathing; I know he isn’t.

I swim as fast as I can with one arm towards the beach. I can still hear his mother screaming. Then I hear Caden. He is swimming out to meet me. “Caden,” I call out to him. He takes the boy from me and starts swimming to shore with him. He’s so much faster than me.

Caden makes it to shore with the boy, and I see him lay him down as Declan arrives and performs CPR. I roll onto my back, needing to catch my breath. I have a horrible cramp in my side. I’m floating for a few minutes before there are splashes as someone swims out to me. “How’s it going here, Boss?” Matt asks as he treads water beside me.

“Well, Matt, I definitely didn’t have the relaxing afternoon at the beach I had planned on.”

“I see that. Ah, Ava, Is there a reason you’re out here floating?”

“Oh, yeah. I have a cramp, and I’m trying to catch my breath.”

“Ah. Well, you feel up to going into shore now?”

“I guess.”

“Good, ’cause the doc is starting to look a little panicked.”

We make our way to shore slowly. The cramp in my side is not any better. Breathing hurts. Matt helps me out of the water just as the mother places her son into a car pulled onto the beach. I give Caden a look. “They’re taking him to the hospital just to get him checked over, and this is faster than calling an ambulance.”

“He’s ok?” I look to Declan, meeting his eyes.

“He’s going to be fine. He was completely responsive, and his breath sounds were clear on both sides.”

“That’s good. Thank you for coming. I don’t know if he would have made it without you.”

I step away from Matt to grab my stuff, but that pain in my side will not let go. It takes my breath away, and I stumble; Matt catches me by grabbing my side, and I think I might have hit him in reflex to the pain he caused me. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Declan is beside me before I can protest. He lifts my left arm and touches my ribs. “Fuck!” I yell, “Don’t, that hurts.”

“Shut up, Ava, and let me look. I’ve fucked you with fresh bullet wounds, so I know you can withstand a fair amount of pain for a moment.”

Matt and Caden laugh at that, not even trying to pretend they didn’t hear it. “Asshole,” I mutter under my breath. But I do as he asks and stay quiet as he checks my side out. “Okay, so good news, it’s nothing serious, just a dislocated rib, and it’s an easy fix.”

“That’s good. So, what’s the bad news?”

I miss the look he gives Matt, but suddenly, Matt holds me firm, and Declan puts his hands on my ribs and pushes in and up, and I scream. I’ve been shot, and this hurt more. I think I pass out for a second, or at least see stars, grateful that Matt has me. “That’s the bad news. Ava. Hey, look at me.”

I look up at him, blinking my eyes rapidly. “Fuck, Jake, that hurt. Why didn’t you warn me?”

“It’s worse if you know it’s coming, Ava; trust me.” Matt says. “Are you good now?”

“Yeah, I’m ok. You can let me go. Thank you.”

“All right then. Caden and I will grab your things, and you and the doc can make your way back nice and slow.’

“Why can’t you walk me back?” I plead with my friend to save me.

“Because, Ava, the man helped us build a pergola and saved that kid’s life after you saved his life. And as much as I want to throat punch him for hurting you, I can’t help but like the Irish bastard,” he says and then leaves quickly with Caden as I stare after them.

“Go with them, Declan. I’m fine.”

“Someone should walk back with you.”

I glare at him for a moment before relenting. “Fuck, fine.”

We walk back slowly; neither of us says anything. We reach the house, and I go to the outdoor shower to rinse off, but pause when I remember I’m not alone. Showering in my room seems like the safer option. I look at him and give him a small smile. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for. I should go, the restaurant at the hotel; it gets busy at night. Goodnight, Ava.”

Fuck, fuck.

“You could join us for dinner. Marguerite is an amazing cook, and she made tamales for us. She makes them with shredded pork and this red sauce we all fight over.” I smile, thinking about the last time we had that sauce. “The last time we had the sauce, Ben stabbed Caden in the hand with his fork when Caden tried to claim the last bit. It’s that good.”

“Sure, I think I would like that. As long as you don’t stab me.” That fucking accent is an unfair advantage.

“I can’t promise no stabbing, but I will try to be on my best behavior. I’m going to go up and shower. You can use the outside shower if you like. There are towels in the box on the side of it,” I tell him as I head upstairs.

Once clean, I open my closet, throw on a pair of underwear, grab a racerback tank maxi dress, and put it on. Looking in the mirror, I try to decide if I love how much side boob it shows.

I do, yes.

I grab a couple of things out of my closet and head downstairs. I bunch up some of the skirt material to about mid-thigh on one leg, letting it lay longer on the other. I left my pin upstairs, so instead, I tuck it up under the leg of my underwear.

I step into the kitchen, and I see Jake–Declan–standing outside with a towel around his waist, looking at the ocean. “Hey,” I say as I step up beside him. “Enjoying my view?”

“Yeah.”

“It is pretty spectacular,” I say.

“It is.” He says no longer looking at the water.

A slight blush creeps up my neck, under his gaze. “Oh, here, I stole these from the last guy I slept with, but they should fit you,” I say, shoving some clothes in his arms. He glares at me.

“Relax, they’re yours, you jackass. I thought you might want them instead of putting your shorts back on. I know they were pretty wet after the beach.”

“Bloody Hell, woman! I have been looking for these fucking sweats for months!” Declan roars at me.

“Sorry?” I say with a cheeky grin as I go into the house.

“I’m not sure you understand how exactly an apology works.”

“Ha! I’m going to text the guys for food. I’m starving.”

“Matt and Caden decided to go into town and meet Ben for a couple of beers and some food,” he informs me.

I shake my head. “Of course they did. Fucking traitors.”

I turn on music because, God knows, I need the distraction. “Optimist” by Zoe Keating fills the space.

I grab dishes and things, as well as a bottle of wine. I lay everything out, pull the tamales from the oven, and throw a salad together quickly. Declan returns to the kitchen as I put the last fixings into the salad bowl. I look up at him as he enters. The man is trying to kill me. He’s only wearing the grey sweats. “Fuck my life,” I mutter. “I can grab you a shirt from Matt’s room. Give me one minute.” I start to leave the kitchen.

“I don’t need a shirt Ava, sit.”

“Don’t use that tone with me, Declan.”

“What tone is that?”

“You know exactly what tone.”

“Hmm, not sure I do,” he says, well aware of the tone. It’s his ‘doctor dominant’ tone.

“Do you want wine?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I’d love some wine, thank you.” He says, chuckling at my discomfort. This man knows me too well.

You’re so fucking fucked, Ava.

I hand him his wine and food, make my plate, and we dig in. “Holy shit, that is good.”

“I told you.” I laugh at him.

“You did. What does she put in this stuff?”

“I have no idea why she won’t share the recipe with me; we’ve all tried, but she just says no.”

We finish eating and start to clear away our dishes. “Nothing Matters” By The Last Dinner Party plays. The chorus hits, and I can’t help but look at Declan, waiting for his reaction. He looks at me questioningly.

“Yeah, it’s a little aggressive, but I love this song. It reminds me of Abba but with an unhinged twist.”

“That is a pretty accurate description, actually,” he laughs.

We look at each other across the island. I close my eyes, feeling the need to center myself. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what, Ava?”

“Like you haven’t eaten in weeks.” I say as I open my eyes.

“I haven’t.” He says low. I can’t help the noise that statement elicits from me. He takes a step towards my side of the island. I take a step in the other direction. He takes another step towards me, and I take another away from him. “Ava.” The threat in his voice is unmistakable. “I would stop moving if I were you.” His voice is still low but with a rasp now to it.

He takes a couple slow, deliberate steps towards me, trying to not engage my fight or flight response. I stay still, letting him get closer, unsure if I’m going to let him catch me or not. If I’m going to let him have me or if I’ll run. He takes two more steps. He’s close enough now to be able to touch me.

My feet are moving before I even realize I made a choice. I bolt from him, getting past him and running for the stairs. “This’ll be fun,” I hear him say, and then he’s after me.

I make it halfway up the stairs before he hits the first step. His legs are longer than mine, and he gains on me fast. Adrenaline is coursing through me, spurring me on.

I reach my bedroom door, but he’s there before I can open it. He slams against me, his arms on either side of me, elbows bent, forearms trapping me in. “I told you not to move, Ava,” he says in my ear, his teeth grabbing my earlobe.

A shiver runs through me. I can hear how weak his control on himself is and I revel in it. I push back against him, grinding my ass into him. I feel his cock against me, already so fucking hard. “But you ran from me,” he drags his nose up my neck, scenting me. “I caught you though, didn’t I?” When I don’t answer him, he pushes himself into me harder, smashing my breasts against the door. “I asked you a question,” his mouth against my ear, his teeth grazing over it.

Jesus, fuck, what did he ask me? “Yes, you caught me.” His right-hand leaves the door, running over my thigh, over my ass and up my ribs until he replaces the skin along my side that my dress leaves exposed. I hear a low growl from him before his hand snakes into my dress and cups my breast, squeezing it to that beautiful point of almost too much. Another sound escapes me, this one is needy.

“I think you missed my hands on you. Didn’t you, lass.” That voice with that Irish lilt sends a wave of heat through me, making me clench my thighs so tightly. A low chuckle sounds in my ear. “Instead of clenching your thighs, you should spread them wide, let me between them, and you can fuck yourself on my hand until you come.”

“Please,” I beg him.

“Please what, Ava?”

I push my ass back into him, making him suck in a breath. “Please what, Ava,” he demands and squeezes my breast again to emphasize his request that I answer him.

“I don’t know,” I answer him honestly, squirming.

“Stop moving, woman. My cock is so fucking hard. If you keep squirming against me, I’m going to come in my sweats like a fucking teenager.” He turns me, so I’m facing him.

I look up and meet his eyes. He wants to unleash himself on me, but he’s holding back, trying to take it slow. He doesn’t fully trust me to not shut him down before he even gets started. He drops his forehead to mine, his breaths are ragged, his eyes are darker than I have ever seen them. He stays like that for a moment, closing his eyes for a breath, his heart rate calming. He lets out another breath, it sounds like a surrender almost, “Mianach,” he grits out and claims my mouth.

Months of want and frustration, pain and uncertainty, anger and hope. All of what he felt over the last few months is in this kiss. He me to know I’m in trouble for leaving him, his mouth is punishing me. His tongue and teeth brand me as his. I grab his waistband, pulling him into me, needing to take his punishment just as much as he needs to inflict it upon me.

He crushes himself against me as he rocks his hips into me. Everything I feel from him is that of a starving man, a man who has been denied the only thing that can save his life. I part my lips, gasping at the ferocity of his possession of it. Needing air but not getting any but the air he gives me. My head is spinning; the sensations running over me from having his mouth on mine again are almost too much. He swallows that gasp from me, claiming it as his own. I have nothing to anchor myself to. His possession of me is rough and reckless, nothing soft and gentle. It’s all savage and punishing.

His lips leave mine, kissing my neck, going to that spot he knows will undo me. His teeth sink into that spot, and I moan. My hand replaces his hair, grasping it. I pull his mouth back to mine, a hunger of my own unleashed. I rock my hips against him, and his hands replace my ass, lifting me. My legs wrap around his waist, tightening around him and pulling him in as close as possible.

Our tongues tease and sweep against each other. I bite his bottom lip, and he groans into my mouth and drives his hips forward, dragging his cock against my wet centre. My dress is around my waist; my panties are soaked. “Oh God,” I whisper as he rocks into me again. His cock dragging against my core, the fabric of my underwear slick against me.

He reaches between us, pulling my underwear to the side as he drags a finger through me. I feel my slickness rub against his skin. I shiver, sending another rush of wetness to my pussy. He slides a finger inside me, and I lean into the door, angling my hips harder toward him. His finger plunges into me, his thumb circling my clit. I gasp as he pulls me closer, his mouth on mine again.

His need for me is a living thing between us and it invades every inch of space. It leaves very little of me in its wake

He works his pants down, freeing himself, lining up with my entrance and drives into me in one hard thrust. Both of us moan out a filthy sound of pleasure when he’s fully seated in me. He starts to move inside me, his hands roaming over my body. He’s touching me everywhere, everywhere I thought his hand would never touch again. Even when I dreamt about him, I knew in my dreams he was lost to me.

“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock, Ava. I missed you so much.” His voice is heavy with lust.

His hands on my body are familiar, they haven’t forgotten an inch of me. My skin remembers him as well. It sings back to his touch as they slide down to my side, grazing over the scar there, and he runs them absently along it as he drives into me.

Memories of the day I got that scar take over my thoughts, almost like they’re sitting on top of this moment. I feel him moving inside me, and I know it’s Jake, I can feel his fingers on my side, running over the scar that’s still so fresh. I feel it, that first slip, but I don’t recognize it for what it is.

Fighting to focus back on him, on this moment here, not one from the past. I concentrate on his skin, his scent, his breath, the feel of him inside me, his fingers caressing that smooth patch of skin on my side. The memory of that day crashes in, until it’s the only thing I can see, or feel—the day my entire world crumbled.

“Stop,” I whisper so quietly I don’t know how he hears me. I barely heard me. But he stops instantly, his eyes replaceing my face. Concern washing over him.

“Ava? “

“I need… please… please let me down.” I hear the same pain in my voice as he does. He slides out of me, placing my feet gently onto the wood floor. He steps back from me, putting himself back in his pants. He steps forward to touch me, but I flinch. Seeing the flinch he takes another step back from me. “Ava? Please, baby, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Don’t call me baby,” I whisper. Staring at the ground, mentally trying to shake off whatever is happening in my head.

“I’m not your baby. I’m not your anything. I left you. We broke up.” I don’t understand what is happening. How is he here? It doesn’t make sense to me. My brain can’t focus. I can’t reconcile this Declan here with Jake from that day. “Why the fuck are you here?” I feel fear building in me. I hear my voice get louder, but I can’t stop it. “Why are you here? What did you come here for?” I yell at him. I feel the break nearing the surface. “Why, Jake? Declan, whoever the fuck you are.”

“Ava, please let me help you, baby.”

“Stop fucking calling me that! I’m not your baby! Fuck, we didn’t even really know each other. We were both lies!”

“Ava,” he says again. There’s a plea in his voice for me to hear him, but I don’t.

“Except you knew who I was; you knew everything about me! You fucking played me, Jake! Fuck–Declan! Why? Why? Why did you do it? Why? Why not tell me who you were? What did you want from me?” He says nothing. He can see me unravelling in front of him. He understands I don’t want his answers. I need to get this pain out of me, and he is the one in the vicinity of the explosion.

A thought runs through me, and I turn cold, my body going preternaturally still. “Are you here to kill me?” The understanding of him being a Campbell finally hits me. I ask him, my voice quiet, “Are you here for that? It’s okay; I won’t fight you so long as you don’t hurt the guys. They did nothing but place their loyalty in me. You can have me; just don’t hurt them.”

“Fuck. Ava, no. I’m not here to hurt you or them. I love you; I am so in love with you. I was so lost when you left. I worked and came home. That was it.”

I charge at him and push him with all my strength. “NO! NO! You don’t get to say that to me. You don’t know me! I don’t know you!” I keep pushing him until I have him against the far wall.

I don’t see him anymore. My rage and pain have taken my sight.

I can’t separate that day’s memories from today’s reality. It’s all too much. It all blurs. I lash out at anything. I know my fist hits something. So, I keep hitting. The feeling of something solid, a small anchor point for me in the haze of my mind. Minutes or days could have passed in that haze. The days all one big jumble in my mind.

I’m being lifted off my feet then, my arms trapped against my body. I fight like a wild animal, as I was trained to do. I fight like my life depends on it. I hear voices; someone yells for a bag, and I hear my name being said repeatedly. But it all seems so distant. “Let me go!” I keep fighting whoever is holding me, but they have me so tight. I feel a sharp sting in my arm. Then everything starts to go fuzzy. My body starts to feel heavy. I hear Matts voice break through the static in my ears, but my eyes keep closing, and I can’t replace him. “Why, Matt? When did he stop loving me and start hating me?” I hear someone sobbing, but I can’t keep my eyes open to replace them. “Why did he want me dead? He broke us, Matt.”

My pain from that day and the destruction of my life shatters over me again and again. A blackness is quickly taking over and I welcome it. I feel my body get heavier. I can hear Matt, but he sounds so far away. I can hear that woman sobbing again, but I don’t have it in me to reach out and help her. I can hear the breaking of her soul, and it crushes me. It crushes me and drags me into oblivion.