Ava folds in on herself as Diesel goes rock-solid in the bathroom doorway.
“What the fuck?” I’m across the room with my hand around the guy's throat before he can say anything else.
“Did you actually just say that? Tell me my ears are deceiving me.” Of course, he can’t actually tell me anything because his face is bright red and he isn’t getting enough air to breathe, let alone talk.
I let him go, and he drops to his knees, gasping for breath.
“Get her another doctor now,” I bark at him as he rubs his throat.
“That's not how this works.” He groans but scurries toward the door, almost colliding with Rebel when he swings it open.
“What the fuck?” Rebel questions, but I ignore him and turn back to Ava, who has her arms wrapped around her knees and her legs pulled up tight to her chest.
“Don’t listen to him. I know what he was implying and it had nothing to do with you, beautiful, and everything to do with the cut on my back. He made up his mind about us before he opened his mouth, and nothing you said or did was going to change that.”
She lifts her head and searches my face. I let her look her fill. I’m telling her nothing but the truth.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I reach over and squeeze her knee as Rebel approaches the bed.
“I come bearing gifts. None of us are going to win any fashion awards, but at least we will all be warm and dry,” he tells her with a small smile, which she returns.
“And clean,” Ava adds, making his smile drop.
“And clean,” he agrees.
He places a fast food bag down on the table at the end of the bed and opens up one of the other two bags he’s holding, pulling out jeans and T-shirts for Diesel and me, which we happily accept. I strip off and get changed while Diesel gets dressed, remembering at the last minute that seeing us both in our underwear might freak Ava out. She watches us without showing any kind of outward interest at all.
“Sorry, Ava, I wasn’t thinking.”
She smiles and shakes her head. “I don’t mind. It’s a much nicer view than the vomit-colored walls.” Her eyes widen as if she surprised herself by saying that.
I don’t want her to retreat into herself so I wink before pulling the white T-shirt over my head.
“Well, anytime you want a show, darlin’, you just let me know,” I add, keeping the mood light.
“Well, now that your friendly neighborhood strippergrams are clothed, how about we find something in this bag for you. I had to guess your size, and I wasn’t sure if you had any...injuries you might need to avoid, so I went with these stretch pants Luna raves over, a tank top with a built-in bra, and a hoodie.” Rebel talks animatedly, pulling items from the bag and handing them to her, along with a pair of black panties that he didn't draw attention to, and some thick pink socks.
“This is perfect, thank you. I’ll pay you back when…” Her voice drifts off as she looks around the room.
“What is it?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed as Diesel moves closer.
“I don’t have a job anymore. My old boss probably thought I just quit. I don’t have my wallet, my key to my apartment, or even my ID anymore,” she cries, frustrated.
“Hey, calm down. All of that is stuff we can fix. You don't need to worry about anything right now except getting dressed and eating that burger before I do. I’m starving,” I warn her.
She sighs but nods, sitting up a little straighter as she reaches for the panties.
“Erm…” She chews her lip, looking over to Diesel, but for some reason, I jump in. I want to be the one to help her, and it's important to me that she's comfortable around me.
“Here, let me help. Swing your legs over the side of the bed for me.”
She does as I ask, cringing when she looks down.
I follow her gaze down to her legs and grin before lifting my own leg and pulling up the leg of my jeans.
“It’s just hair. Mine are far worse than yours, and as soon as we have you somewhere safe, you can soak in a bath, shave everything you want to and relax until you look like a prune. Don’t sweat the small stuff, okay?”
Blowing out a breath, she nods, scooting forward on the bed. I bend and hook her feet through the legs of the panties and slowly slide them up.
I’ve undressed my share of women, especially since becoming a fully patched member of Carnage, but I don’t know if anything has ever felt as intimate as slipping these panties on Ava. Maybe it's the level of trust she is offering. God only knows the horror she has endured, and yet for whatever reason, she’s letting the three of us in, even if it is just a little.
Once I have them as far as I can go, I lift her gently to her feet before sliding them the rest of the way up. I don’t linger, even though my dick is hard, making me feel like an asshole. She doesn’t deserve me getting fresh with her, not right now at least, but the sick fuck that I am can’t deny there is something about her vulnerability that draws me in and turns me on in equal measure.
“There we go, all done. Now let's get these on you too.” I grab the soft pants from the bed and wait as she places her hands on my shoulders to steady herself.
She lifts her legs one by one so I can make quick work of getting them on, pulling them up under the towel.
“Arms up," I order, standing up as I snag the tank top.
She bites her lip and slowly raises her arms as I slip the top over her head and pull it down before tugging the damp towel away, then I repeat the process with the warm hoody.
“There, much better.” I smile. The hoody swamps her and makes me wonder what she’ll look like in one of mine.
The caveman in me likes that, but I keep that to myself as I slip my hands under her armpits and lift her back up onto the bed and slide her cold feet into the fuzzy pink socks Rebel grabbed for her.
The sound of the door opening has me spinning around and planting myself in front of Ava, blocking her from whoever is entering.
When I see the nurse from before, I step aside so she can reach the IV.
“I’m going to change your bandages first, then hook up your IV. Psych should be here shortly after that to do your assessment. Would you like these men to leave?” she asks Ava, but Ava is already shaking her head before the nurse has even finished speaking.
“No, I want them to stay,” she replies before moving back on the bed without saying a word and lifts her arms, turning away from us.
Nobody says anything as the nurse pushes Ava’s sleeves up to her elbows and starts to unravel the wet bandages.
I don't know why, but Ava’s reluctance to look at us all of a sudden is bothering me. Does she think we’ll think less of her because she has wounds on her wrists where she likely fought against her restraints?
The thought dies as the bandage falls away, exposing the wound. Rebel sucks in a breath as he comes to the same conclusion I have: these marks aren't because of handcuffs or even ropes.
These wounds are from someone trying to cut their wrists.
Chapter Six
Ava
I can’t look at them, the shame making me avoid the pity in their eyes. Part of me is angry, however misguided it might be because who are others to judge me for my actions when they’ve never been in my shoes?