Page 100 of Ink & Desire

The radio crackles again. “Visitor name?”

Thank fuck. Relieved, I settle back into my seat. Avery will verify me. Even if she’s pissed, she won’t let me go to jail. I know it.

“What’s your name?” the security guard asks.

“Corbin James,” I say.

He repeats my name into the radio and we both wait for the woman on the other end to come back with a response. If Avery isn’t home yet, I’m screwed. I don’t think her mom knows anything about me. It takes another five minutes before the radio crackles to life again.

“2103, this is dispatch. Over.”

“Dispatch this is 2103.”

“The Bradshaws have asked that you release the jackass into their custody. That’s a direct quote.”

I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. Leave it to Avery to call me a jackass, even if indirectly.

“10-4, Dispatch. Releasing the jackass.” He turns to glare at me as he drops the radio onto the seat.

“Sorry for the trouble,” I say, trying for a conciliatory tone.

He just grunts in a noncommittal way as he climbs from the car. Then he opens the back door and gestures at me to get out of the car. I don’t ask him for a ride down the long driveway. I feel like it might be pushing my luck. Instead, I give him a smile and a salute before straightening my jacket lapels and turning to walk down the driveway toward Avery’s house.

The house is massive with a wide porch stretching across the front. Is this where Avery grew up? It's so different from everything I knew as a kid. I'm once again reminded of all the ways her life differs from mine. But then I remember how it feels to hold her and the differences don't feel so big. I only hope she feels the same way.

I expect to see Avery waiting on the porch, but I’m met instead by an older version of her. Meredith Bradshaw Scott stands there, glaring at me, arms folded over her chest. She’s still dressed in her formal gown. She looks regal and absolutely furious.

“Mrs. Scott,” I say. “My name is Corbin James.”

She raises a brow at me and I feel myself shrink just a little. How can a woman who’s barely over 5 feet tall make me feel so small?

“Are you the man who made my daughter cry?”

If I thought I felt small before, it’s nothing compared to now. I hurt Avery. I made her cry. I don’t have any excuse, so I just nod.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say.

She eyes me for a long moment. "You're the artist, right?"

I blink, unsure how much Avery told her mom about me.

“I—”

She holds up a hand to halt my words. I immediately close my mouth.

“I just need to know one thing,” she says.

I nod.

“Are you going to fix this?”

“If it can be fixed,” I say. “I’m here to try.”

She exhales on a sigh. “I suppose that’s all I can expect. Come inside.”

Relief wars with my nerves as she turns toward the house, and I follow behind her. Avery’s mom is a little scary. She leads me inside and through an archway into a large room filled with comfortable-looking furniture.

“Wait in here,” she says. “I’ll see if she wants to talk to you. It’s late.”