Catching Avery

Chapter 23

Virtue: Because love was a motherfucker.

Avery~

When Chase and Julian had joined us at the bar, that's when I'd realized that Nicholas had left the party, and the knowledge had started killing my buzz. So, that's when I had decided to leave as well. Everyone had been having such a great time, so I had assured them that a cab was fine, and I had promised to text the girls the second that I'd gotten home. However, the cab ride over had been proof enough that my buzz was still very much alive.

I shut and locked the front door behind me, then pulled out my phone to text Q. Since I was firing off the text that I was home, my head was down, so I didn't see the looming male figure coming from my bedroom until it was too late.

Sensing that something was wrong, I looked up, then let out a scream worthy of any horror flick. I whirled around to escape back through the front door, but I was hindered by the fact that I had already engaged the lock. I immediately felt a body slam into my back, and then felt strong arms clasp my shoulders, dragging me farther into the living room.

"Avery, stop!"

My struggling immediately ceased as I recognized the voice, and my fear ebbed enough to allow me to focus on his face.

"Eric?" I gasped, jerking myself out of his grasp. "What in the hell? What are you doing in my apartment, scaring the ever-lovin' shit out of me?"

I took some deep breaths, trying to calm myself down, refusing to let my scared anger get the better of me or make this situation crazier than it already was. However, as Eric remained quiet, it didn't take long before the hairs on the back of my neck started to stand on end. Whatever he was doing here, it wasn't good.

No longer screaming, I asked, "What are you doing in my apartment, Eric?"

"Where is it, Avery?" he asked, and the tone of his voice really had me beginning to worry.

"Where's what?" I asked because I really had no idea what he was talking about.

Now, while I had set my purse down on the couch when I'd walked in, I still had my phone in my hand after sending off that text to Quinn. So, with phone in hand, I was trying to discreetly dial Q's number because I had a feeling this-whatever this was-with Eric wasn't going to go well.

"Don't fucking play with me, Avery," he snapped. "Where's the box?" He was clenching his teeth and flexing his hands open and closed.

I needed to be smart about this. "Eric, I don't know what you're talking about. I swear."

He reached out, then snatched me up by my upper arm. "I'm not fucking around here," he snarled as he shook me to emphasize his point.

My heart started to beat frantically. "I don't know what you're talking about, Eric," I repeated as I started shaking my head. "I don't have-"

I never saw it coming.

The blow to my face was backed by so much force that my upper body was propelled over the back rest of the couch, my phone flying across the room. In shock, before I could get my bearings, I felt Eric twist a chunk of my hair in his hand, then yank me back on my feet. He leaned into my face, and it was clear that his anger had him in a place that reason couldn't reach.

"Now that I've made it clear that I am serious, where is the fucking box?" he spat angrily.

I could feel blood trickling down the corner of my mouth, and the right side of my face was already beginning to throb. "Eric, please," I choked out. "I don't know what box you're talking about."