the smartest thing for me to be handling her like this, though. The thought makes me grind my teeth and I turn to look out of the window. I don’t want her to sense my anger at all. She’s mine, and I want her relaxed and to be able to blend in. Not some trembling slave, chained away and devoid of life.
I know I can get her there. I will get her there.
So long as everyone stays out of my fucking way.
They better not fucking hurt her. I got a call from Vince this morning with the address for the meet-up. I’ve never liked the docks. That’s where we dumped the bodies. I’ve seen plenty of men led to the docks, only to be shot on-site and discarded. But that’s where the shipping containers are, so it makes sense that we’d meet there.
I take another look at Ava. She’s nervous still, but at least she’s looking around a little. A small smile plays at my lips. I wonder if she knows she’s not staring straight ahead, looking at nothing. I fucking hate that, so if I’ve broken that habit I’ll be happy with that little bit of progress.
“You ever hear of the Valettis?” I ask her, as I follow the directions from the GPS and turn into a gravel driveway right off the bay and drive to the far end. There’s a large building and then a smaller one that looks like it’s obviously comprised of offices. Undoubtedly that's where Vince told me to meet him. My eyes travel to Ava and I question bringing her along. It’s an impossible situation, leaving her alone versus bringing her with me.
“I haven’t.” She shakes her head and her large blue eyes shine with sincerity. “My father didn’t talk much about business.” Her eyes stay on me, waiting for an answer.
“I’m sorry about your father.” She visibly flinches from my words and it makes me feel like an asshole. I put the car in park and turn in my seat to look at her. “I really am, Ava. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”
“Thank you, Kane.” The way she says the words seems different than before. The words are softer and have more meaning. I reach into the backseat and grab the bag with her collar and leash. I imagine I need her collared when everyone’s around, just like I need her to call me sir. I want the collar on her neck, too. I want to cover the bandage over her cut. It’s a large fucking cut, too. The fact that they didn’t do shit to help it heal pisses me off. I lean over and push the edges of the Band-Aid down.
“This’ll cover that up.” I have to lean across the console to put the thin leather band around her neck. It looks good on her. It’s an off-white color and makes her skin look brighter around it. The leather should feel good compared to the metal. There’s a loop at the front, for a tag or a leash.
I adjust the collar so it fits nicely and covers the bandage. Most of it, anyway; a small bit peeks out. It makes me scowl. I don’t like seeing it. I hate the evidence of what those fuckers did to her. My eyes involuntarily travel to the large, silvery scar on her shoulder. The indentation of each tooth from the bite is visible. I have to force myself to look away and calm my breathing.
“That feel alright?” She nods her head at my question and I shove the bag into the backseat. I’m not putting a fucking leash on her. I won’t need it.
“You’ll stay to my right. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Kane.”
“If anything happens, you stand behind me.” She hesitates as her eyes widen slightly; it’s the first time she’s ever waited even a second to answer. I raise my eyebrows, waiting for her to acknowledge what I said. If guns come up, we’re probably fucked. But I still want her behind me. I need to know she’s alright.
“Yes, Kane,” she replies as she nods her head, keeping those beautiful blue eyes on mine.
“Kane?” she asks.
“Yeah, Ava?” I meet her kind gaze and it takes me by surprise. Her eyes have such life in them.
“I’m sorry for your loss as well.” I’m shocked to hear that from her. My eyes search her face. If her father didn’t talk about business, then Abram and whoever else had her must’ve been