I Told You, You're Mine

By: Heather C. Adams


What I really wanted to do was to fly straight up to Avery tomorrow morning. I had pretty much made my mind up on the flight home. I was getting damn tired of chasing her around with the private investigator. I was ready to march straight up there and make her face me and quit all this running shit once and for all.

But what if I slept with Liza?

First, I had to get to the bottom of this shit.

Fuck! This is the last thing I need!

I flip my phone over, open Liza’s text and begin to type.

Liza, what happened the other night?

Her reply comes back almost immediately.

How could you forget that little slice of heaven dear?

Have you come to your senses yet?

Are you ready to take me back yet or are you still preoccupied with your sister?

My hand slams onto the table folded over my lap, “Goddammit!”

Me: We need to talk. My house, tonight. 6 pm.

I sigh clenching my jaw, as the plane comes to a stop and the door opens. I fear these stairs are leading me straight into a path of destruction and everything in me wants to close the door and go right back to that tiny apartment with Avery, where there was nothing but her and me.

I traipse down the steps one by one, replaying everything from the night of the charity, as the world moves in slow motion around me.

“Mr. McIntosh,” my driver nods as I reach the concrete and I slide in the open door of the limo.

The ride home is painstakingly long, and by the end of it, I gather my senses and my nerves and am ready to face the music.

I texted Archer on the way home and asked him to come over before Liza. I was going to lay it all out there and get his advice. I fucking needed it. No more hiding shit. Whatever I had been trying to do alone to handle his sister was not working.

I walk in, throwing my keys on the table, and am greeted by Miss Abigail’s warm smile.

“Blade, you look down son. What’s the matter?

My head hangs low and a heavy sigh flows out of my chest. I can’t hide anything from Miss Abigail. She knows me too well.

I pause before finally letting it all out, “I was trying to repair things with-“ I stop myself before I let out mine and Avery’s secret, “I’ve just messed some things up for Avery is all,” I sigh again.

Her smile washes away and her hand drops, extending to me, “come on…come talk to me.” She leads us to the kitchen where she lays her purse and lunch bag on the island. She used to stay here during the week but she’s been going home more now. I told her to do whatever she needed and I’d still pay her the same. This house wouldn’t operate without Miss Abigail anyway.

“Alright cough it up,” she holds her hands up motioning for me to bring on the information.

“I’ve just-, I thought we-,” I lean onto the stool plopping down frustrated.

Her aged hand, scattered with lines and sunspots slides over one of mine, “Blade, sweetheart, I know.”

My eyes lift to meet hers shocked, “know what?”

About me and Avery?

“Follow me,” she leads us to the other side of the house, down the hall, and into dad’s office. She unlocks the door and meets the massive bookshelf that was built into one of the walls. She looks around on a middle shelf at the dated book collection and slides her finger on top of a small red one, pulling it out. She turns, pushing it to her chest, and meets me at dad’s desk where I am now perched.

“First, I want to say…” one of her hands drop to reach mine and I extend my hand, embracing hers while my face wrinkles in confusion.

“Your father knew his health was declining for some time now son,” a sheen on her eyes grows, and my stomach knots.

“What do you mean?”

I thought this was going to be about Avery…

“Your dad had been going to the doctor for some time about his heart issues.”

Heat grew in my chest and spread like lightning.

How could he have such a pressing issue and not even tell me?

Miss Abigail reads my mind and answers before I can ask, “He didn’t want to worry you son. He had just started some medicine and was hoping to make some changes so it didn’t progress to surgery.”

I gulp down the bile that rises in my throat.

Dammit, dad!

She releases my hand and opens the book pulling out a small folded piece of paper, handing it to me.

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