Page 240 of Heartache Duet

He opens the door for me, and I release his hand, take Trevor’s instead. We stand side by side on the porch, watching as Leo opens the back door, his touch gentle as he helps my mother out of the back seat. I bounce on my toes, nerves and anticipation flowing through my veins. I can’t hold back when she begins to approach, her head down. I run to her, just like all the times she returned from war. I call for her, my tears making it impossible to see. “Mama!” She feels like home, like her embrace is made of magic… the type of magic that destroys all childhood fears and replaces them with faith and security and love. I weep on her shoulder, holding her tight, never wanting to let go.

I feel Trevor’s presence before I see him. “Trevor,” Mom whispers.

“Don’t you dare do that again,” he tells her, his voice gruff.

Mom releases me, her hand going to her side as she glares at my brother.

Trevor adds, “Don’t go fighting my battles for me. Especially when it comes to my race and other people’s ignorance.”

Mom lifts her chin, her eyes on his as she squares her shoulders. “You are my son, Trevor. I would start a fucking war for you.”

For the first time ever, I watch my brother break. Shatter. Witness my mother’s strength as she holds him through his cries, through his destruction. And it’s only now I realize the real effects of my choices. I thought I needed time. If I could just wait, then everything would fall into place. But every second of waiting, our heartache only increases, ruining the people who matter the most to me.

I look over at Connor standing on the porch, watch his chest rising and falling with every one of his breaths.

And then I look at Peter standing beside him.

I can take care of you, Ava…

My eyes drift shut.

Vincit qui se vincit: He conquers who conquers himself.

I flick Mom’s ring around my thumb.

I am the conqueror.

I am.

I am.

THIRTY-SEVEN

ava

“Too many people,” Mom murmurs.

“I know, Mama,” I reply, leading her from her bedroom to the living room. “But they’re here for Trevor. They worry about him, and he needs the support.” God, does he need it.

When she came home earlier today, she bypassed greeting Connor, Peter, and Amy, and went straight to her room. The only thing she wanted to do was sleep, though I don’t think she actually did. She just wanted to be alone, and I feel that.

I want the same.

Now, the day has turned to night, and everyone is still here, plus Leo and Tom Preston. Leo’s finished his shift and is here to check on her. Tom is here to check on Trevor. I’ve never known this amount of kindness from strangers, and I wish I could portray that to Mom in a way that won’t upset her.

“Hey, Miss D,” Connor greets, kissing the scars that mar her beauty. He offers her a smile, gentle and warm, and I wish it meant something to me, but it doesn’t.

Everyone else joins us in the living room while Mom adjusts the hood of her robe to hide her face. Even around Peter and Amy, she gets like this, but around strangers, I fear her reaction.

“How are you feeling, ma’am?” Leo asks her, standing opposite us.

Mom settles on the couch between Connor and me. “Much better,” my mom answers, her tone flat. “Sleep—” Glass breaks behind me, and Mom screams. So do I. Another round, and then many more. Shot after shot after goddamn shot flies through the window, shards of glass soaring past me and on me, and then I’m blanketed in warmth, thrown on the floor. Mom doesn’t stop screaming, and around me, it’s chaos. Feet stomp across the carpet, doors open, and curses fly through the air. Heated breaths land on my neck, and then, after what feels like an eternity, silence descends. Darkness fills my heart, my mind, and my heart is racing, sinking.

“What the hell was that?” Amy shouts, and I finally open my eyes. She’s on the floor, too, shielded by Trevor’s entire body.

He says, picking something up off the floor. “BB gun pellets.”

Next to me, Mom sits with her knees raised, her arms covering her head. Connor’s behind her, his back to the window, protecting her. Confused, I look down at the arms pinning mine to my chest. “Are you okay?” Peter asks, his mouth to my cheek.