Nadia Wolf: My Traitor Part 27

Pulling out his newly purchased flashlight, Remy decided to explore. As a child, cemeteries used to scare him, especially at night. But now, they were a peaceful place - not of strangers, but of friends and family.

As he walked around, the only sounds he heard were his own footsteps and breath. The cool night air seeped into his light jacket. He hadn't thought to bring warmer clothes for the northern climate. He hadn't thought about much of anything other than arriving in time to stop French.

While the night was too dark to see anything past his flashlight, Remy could smell the fresh pine that hugged the grounds. It was beautiful here. Restful. He now understood why French picked it, even if he didn't understand anything else.

He skimmed the light over each headstone as he walked through the cemetery, reading the names and dates. Some were old, some were young, but they always had one thing in common. Death. It is what all life has in common.

Remy mentally shook himself. He had to let go. He had to let everything go, including the past.

Ava.

But he didn't want to let her go. He never wanted to let her go. But he had. Out of stupidity and misplaced justice, he thought she was better off without him. But he knew he'd never be whole without her.

He continued walking, his head now filled with Ava instead of French. He barely read the names. They blurred as his mind shuffled through images of Ava. But one name made him stop. He couldn't have read that correctly. He must have been thinking of something else and inserted a name on someone else's grave.

Remy stepped back, flooding the small headstone with light. What he saw knocked the air out of him. It scrambled his mind as he tried to process what he was looking at. It couldn't be right. It wasn't possible. But as he read the etched dates and quickly calculated, he knew it was right.

It shattered him.

Brock Remington . . . Jr.

Chapter 22.

Ava bought a teddy bear and a bunch of flowers to bring to the cemetery. It was her yearly visit. Her dad stayed at the house, having already visited her mom and Junior just two days prior. That was when her mom had died, two days before her baby. To say it was a sad time would've been a drastic understatement. She lost her love, her mom, and her child all within the s.p.a.ce of a few months.

She took a breath as she walked to her loved ones, inhaling the fresh scent. It cleansed her mind, pushing out the past. After today, she would find a job and begin again. It was time to start over. She had hoped it would be with Remy, but he was in a different place, a place she couldn't break into.

Ava placed the flowers at her mother's headstone and then stepped over to Brock's.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Ava jumped at the voice coming from behind her. She whipped around to find Remy standing in the shadow of a pine tree nearly twenty feet away. He slowly walked to her, taking the teddy bear from her hands.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked again.

"You were dead," she said, looking down at the stuffed animal that was tiny in his hands.

"But I'm not. You've had plenty of opportunities to let me know."

"And what would you have done?"

Remy didn't answer and instead set the little bear at Brock's headstone. He straightened and took a breath that was as shaky as hers. "What happened to him?"

Ava chewed on her bottom lip, holding back the stinging tears that pooled. "He came too early. He was so little," she said, remembering how he was barely a handful. His skin so thin it was almost translucent. "But he was a fighter, too. He hung on for nearly a month, but his little body just wasn't developed enough."

Remy reached out, wiping an escaped tear from her cheek that unleashed hundreds more. He hugged her into him, allowing her to drench his shirt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should have been there for you."

"You were dealing with your own problems," she said, remembering the scars that littered his body. He had more demons to fight than she did.

He shook his head. "No, nothing is more important than family."

"I'm not your family."

"Brock was my son."

She nodded, her face rubbing against his moist shirt.

"And I want you to be my family too," he said.

Pulling back, Ava looked up at Remy. He must have seen her confusion because he said, "Just like David, Greyson, and Mya have been my family for these past years . . . it's more than just blood."

Ava nodded in understanding, but it stung to be cla.s.sified as family with the rest of his friends. But maybe that was all she was. And if she was to be Remy's friend, then she'd take that friendship. She'd rather be a part of his life than not.

"But I don't want to live with them," he continued. "I want to live with you."

Ava looked up at him, not knowing if she'd heard correctly.

"Forever," he added.

"What are you saying?"

"That I've only ever loved you. I never stopped loving you, no matter how hard I tried."

More tears flooded. She dashed them away, only to have them joined by more. She wasn't a crier, and yet here she was soaking them both. Remy took her hands. He kissed one palm and then the other.

"I won't ask you to marry someone like me, but I want you around as long as you can tolerate me."

"Someone like you?" she questioned.

"You know all my flaws," Remy said. "And you were right about the attack. It wasn't me. David had seen the shooter. He also told me . . ."

"Told you what?" Ava prodded.

He took a breath. "I was never in enemy prison. It was all in my head. All the scars . . . they're from me. I did this to myself."

"No, you didn't," Ava stated. "It was Boyer. Everything was Boyer. Don't you dare blame yourself!"

He looked as if he was about to argue, but a smile curved his lips instead. "Are you ordering me around already?" he asked, amus.e.m.e.nt tinting his voice. He gazed down at her, brushing her hair from her shoulder, his hand cupping her cheek. "Come home with me. Please."

Yes. She wanted to say yes. "But what if-"

He shook his head. "No what ifs. We are stronger together than apart. And I don't want to be apart anymore. We face everything together from now on."

"But, Brock . . . sorry, . . . Remy," she corrected herself. "I'm really trying to remember, but it slips sometimes."

"You can call me Brock," he said.

"Really?"

"I think it's time I let the government know that they can rip up my death certificate. I'm suddenly feeling quite alive."

"Really?" she asked again.

"Really." A small smile shaped his lips. "I doubt anyone will call me Brock again, but you can."

"Oh, I don't know. I'm rather fond of this new Remy," she said, smiling.

"Is that a yes? You'll come home?"

"I want forever too. A real forever."

His brows lowered. "You want to marry me?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?" he questioned as if she was cracked. "You could wait and decide later."

She was done waiting. "Just shut up and kiss me."

He smiled and gathered her into his arms. "I can do that."

Remy awoke, feeling run down. Was it morning already? It was as if he hadn't slept at all, which, if he thought back, he barely did. And the only person he could blame was lying right next to him, her arm over his chest, her leg draped over his. She was like a human koala bear.

He missed that about sleeping with her. When he first met Ava, it had been tough to get used to. He might be big, but he wasn't a d.a.m.n tree to cling to. But then it became a form of security, knowing she was right next to him, safe. And then, when she wasn't with him, it was as if she ripped the security away.

Now . . .

Ava stirred next to him, her satiny skin brushing against his.

Christ.

Now, he was like a randy goat. He couldn't get enough of her. He couldn't touch her enough. Couldn't kiss her enough. Couldn't love her enough.

His phone rang, eliciting a soft mewling sound from Ava as she cuddled deeper into him.

Reaching over, he grabbed the phone off the nightstand, cursing when he read David's name on the screen.

"What?" Remy growled into the phone.

"Mya wants to know when you're going to bring Ava around. She and Jenna want to surprise you both with a party. Ow!" David yelped. Remy heard Mya's scolding in the background. "Oh, well, not a surprise anymore."

"We don't want a party," Remy said, keeping a shudder at bay.

Ava cracked open her sleepy eyes. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice still husky from sleep.

"Mya and Jenna are scheming to throw us a party."

"What for?" she squeaked in alarm. "You know I hate parties."

"You only hate parties when you're the center of attention," Remy corrected. "But you can't get out of it if Mya is involved."

David mumbled his agreement. "Mya said you've been shacked up long enough. Ow! Okay, she might not have used those words. But it's been nearly two weeks and we haven't heard a word from you."

"Tell Mya to give us another two weeks. We're busy," Remy said, ending the call and tossing the phone. He rolled over, pinning Ava. Her warm, firm body beneath him nearly undid him every time. "Well, I bought us a little time," he said. "What would you like to do?"

She shifted, nails sc.r.a.ping along his back, causing a chain reaction that couldn't be ignored.

"Little savage," he murmured, nipping her shoulder.

"Beast," she retorted, earning a smile as he trailed his tongue along her neck and up to her ear.

"Care to try to pin me again?" he challenged. "You couldn't do it last night."

"I was tired."

Remy tsked. "And why is that?"

"Because a barbarian has kept me up for so many nights I can't even remember what day it is."

"It's Tuesday."

"It is?"

Remy shrugged. "How the h.e.l.l should I know? I lost count as soon as we got home."

Ava laughed. "This is insane. We should get up and at least take a walk around the block."

"I'll make a deal with you," Remy said, loving the way Ava's eyes sparked when Remy challenged her. "If you actually pin me, which I don't think you can," he taunted, "then we'll do whatever you want for the entire day."

"There's a problem with that."

"What?"

"I have a feeling we want to do the same thing."

"Really?"

"Really." She touched a ticklish spot at Remy's side, toppling him. Ava flipped over and straddled him, successfully conquering him. "And I win."