Chapter 13 - THE LAST TIME HE TOUCHED ME
“Andrew.”
Ethan’s voice cut through the room.
Calm.
Steady.
Terrifying.
Andrew tightened his grip around me.
“Stay back.”
Police raised their weapons.
My father cried behind us.
I felt the knife against my skin.
Ethan stepped forward.
“Look at me.”
Andrew laughed.
“You think you’re the hero now?”
“No.”
“Then stop walking.”
Ethan stopped.
“Take me instead.”
My heart stopped.
Andrew smiled.
“There it is.”
“Ethan, no.”
“Shut up, Ava,” Andrew snapped.
My body reacted before my mind did.
Months of fear.
Months of apologies.
Months of shrinking myself.
Something finally ended.
“No.”
Andrew went still.
“What?”
“I said no.”
His grip tightened.
I forced the words out.
“You don’t get to tell me to shut up anymore.”
“Ava.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to wear.”
His breathing changed.
“You don’t get to decide who I talk to.”
“Stop.”
“You don’t get to hit me.”
“Stop!”
“You don’t get to make me afraid.”
He jerked me backward.
The knife moved.
Pain burned my neck.
Then my father kicked the chair beneath Andrew’s knee.
Andrew stumbled.
I dropped.
A gunshot exploded.
Andrew screamed.
The knife hit the floor.
Police tackled him.
I crawled backward.
Then Ethan was there.
His hands hovered over me without touching.
“Ava.”
“I’m okay.”
Blood ran down my neck.
His face went pale.
“You’re bleeding.”
“It’s small.”
Paramedics rushed in.
Behind them, Andrew screamed as officers handcuffed him.
“This isn’t over!”
I looked at him.
For once, I saw what everyone else had refused to see.
Not a brilliant surgeon.
Not a miracle doctor.
Not a charming fiancé.
A frightened, violent man.
“It is for me,” I said.
Police pulled him away.
My father was untied.
He tried to approach.
“Ava.”
I looked at him.
I wasn’t ready.
Maybe I never would be.
“I need space.”
He stopped.
Ethan stayed near me while a paramedic covered the cut.
“I heard what he said about your mother,” Ethan whispered.
I closed my eyes.
The pain arrived then.
Not from my neck.
Not from my ribs.
From years of believing the wrong story.
I started crying.
Ethan didn’t tell me to stop.
He didn’t promise to fix it.
He simply sat beside me on the dirty floor.
And when I reached for his hand, he held mine.
Then Marcus walked toward us.
His expression was grim.
“It’s not finished.”
Ethan looked up.
“What now?”
“Mercer is gone.”
I wiped my face.
Marcus continued.
“And he transferred twelve million dollars overseas two hours ago.”
May you like
Andrew had fallen.
But the man who protected him was running.
