The Silence Between Names

Chapter Nineteen: Last Resort Romances

I wrapped my sweatshirt sleeves around my knuckles and pulled my knees into my chest. My tears dribbled down my face. Anxiety filled, I couldn't move. It had been three weeks since Shawn's funeral. Walker and I didn't say a word to each other. He and I hadn't spoken since that day in in his driveway. From what I'd heard, he'd moved back to the city to his apartment, trying to move forward after his brother's passing. Since the funeral, I'd dedicated the time to rot alone in my home. My parents were never notified of the passing of my best friend. And if they had been, they never reached out about it. I had never felt more alone than in this moment. On top of that, everywhere I went I had to look over my shoulder for the man who'd been stalking me. In the past few weeks it had leveled up from silly hostile texts to notes on cars, and flat tires. I had no protection in my home, and was a sitting duck to him. My question for him was, why not take me now? Surely he knew I was alone. Surely he knew I had no family. I swallowed my tears and headed down the cold stairs into the kitchen. Looking out the big glass windows, I stared into the forest, wondering when it was my turn. I got a call on my phone.

"Ava Carter?"

"Yeah."

"Hi. Reporter-" I hung up. 

Press had been camped out of my house for weeks. What did they have to ask me? How do you feel that your friends have been murdered and you cheated on your boyfriend with the victim's older brother? Great. I feel great. I lifted myself from the kitchen chair and slipped into bed. The feeling of outdoors had grown foreign to me. I didn't know it. I had no desire to leave the house or go to school. There was one person I knew would help me.

_______

I pulled into the gravel driveway of the farmhouse. My headlights were the only form of light for miles. Hopping out of the car, I swallowed and headed up to the front door steps. I knocked. No answer. Knock. No answer. Then, the door slowly creaked open.

"Ava? Come inside." Peter motioned for me to come into the house.

The home was just as beautiful as I remembered. The colors and gold decorated the walls, and the paintings filled the home. Peter turned to the microwave and heated up a mug of water. He filled it with some tea, and slid across the counter to my side. I slowly sipped it, trying to warm my body up. Peter put his elbows down on the counter, his dark eyes staring into mine. 

"Ava, I'm sorry about how I acted in your bedroom. I wasn't sure what to do." His hand tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. Peter's shoulders nestled down, and I put my chin down on my elbows, trying to muster up the strength to even speak.

"I'm just a kid, Peter." I replied softly.

He sighed, and stared down. He looked embarrassed. I felt pity for him.

"I know. I'm sorry. Why did you want to come here? I mean, I'm not complaining."

"I have no one left. No where to go."

Peter moved from his side of the counter to mine. He put a hand on my bear shoulder.

"You have me." 

I kissed his hand lightly, and he gave me a wide grin. Moving to the sink, he began to dry the dishes. I kept drinking the tea. The silence out here was overwhelming. It was interrupted by the buzzing of a phone call. I picked up my phone. It was a number I didn't recognize.

"Hello? Is this Ava Carter?"

My voice was dry. "Yes."

"This is Agent Powell with the FBI, I'm going to need you to come down for us to investigate. I'm sorry we've come on such tragic terms."

I swallowed, confused. Clearly there was a misunderstanding.

"I'm sorry, I think you're confused. Agent Peter Knox has been here for months."

No response. Of course, a prank call. Then, a voice. 

"Ava, are you with Agent Knox right now?" The voice was thick with warning.

"Yeah?"

Peter was scrubbing dishes in front of me, his eyes glued to the glass plates.

"Ava, we don't have an Agent Knox. You need to get out of that house to a safe spot. Now."

"I don't understand."

"Agent Peter Knox is the man who has been stalking you. He is also the man who murdered your friends. Get. Out."

Crash!

I jumped. Peter had dropped the glass plate and it shattered all over the tile floor. I dropped my phone out of fear, and it shattered into a million shards onto the floor. I slowly moved up from the chair, and realized Peter had heard the phone call. He knew exactly what was going on.

"You know you can't leave, Ava." his voice was tense.

I didn't want to die. I felt hot tears run down my face.

"No please. Please don't." I put my hands up in fear.

Peter slowly moved towards me, a shard of the plate in his hand. He had such a tight grip on it that blood trickled from his palms. He shook his head, slowly moving closer to me.

"I know sweetheart, I'm sorry. Your friends miss you. Jack especially misses you."

I fell to my knees.

"Where is he?!" I screamed at Peter.

Turning, I ran the other direction, and sprinted towards the door. I was too slow. Peter lunged and grabbed my ankle, sending my chin straight into the tile ground. I felt everything go cold and dark, and I fought to stay awake. I fought the dark spots that filled my eyes. But, I failed. My eyes got heavy, and the darkness began to consume my eyes and brain. 

_______

My eyes fluttered open, and I felt a sharp pain seep into my head. I winced, and started to look around to find where I was. I felt the sharp ends of hay digging into my skin, and realized I was in a barn. My wrists were tied, and a thick layer of blood coated my clothing. I looked around the room and gasped at what I saw. Jack was tied up on the other side of the room. His eyes were barely open, and blood seeped through his shirt, staining his white tee a velvety red color.

"Jack." I whispered helplessly.

Jack's eyes opened a bit more, they were practically swollen shut. He was in bad shape. 

"Ava." He groaned.

I tried to inch closer to him.

"I am so sorry." I cried. 

His head drooped down. He was so weak. I felt sick to my stomach thinking about these last few moments of my life. I had so much I needed to say. So much to do. Yet, it was all about to be over. In all of this turmoil, my mind went back to one thing that made me want to fight; Walker Davidson.