
Ava's heart stopped.
The moment her gaze met the man behind the counter, her blood ran cold. The room blurred. The laughter of other customers, the hum of the refrigerator, even Charles' low voice beside her, all faded into a distant echo.
Her breath hitched. It can't be... it can't be him.
The man's cruel smirk confirmed her worst nightmare.
Without a word, she stumbled back, her eyes glassy with panic. Then she turned and bolted, her shoes slapping against the tiled floor as she pushed past Charles, the tears already burning down her cheeks.
"Aw, look at her run," the man's raspy voice called after her. "Pathetic, just like your mother."
Laughter erupted from him and his two cronies.
That was all it took.
Charles froze for a heartbeat, then his expression darkened, his jaw clenched so tightly a vein pulsed on his temple. Slowly, he turned toward the man, his voice dangerously calm. "What the hell did you just say?"
Andrew blinked, confused, watching tension coil in the air. "Charles, don't. Whatever it is, don't do it."
But Charles didn't hear him. He crossed the room in three long strides, grabbed the man by his collar, and slammed him hard against the wall, the shelves behind them rattling.
"Watch your mouth," he growled through gritted teeth. "You've lived on this earth longer than I have, but you clearly haven't learned when to shut the fuck up."
The man sneered, his lip bleeding slightly. "What? Gonna teach me some manners? You think you're a hero now, defending that filthy little--"
Charles' fist connected with his jaw before he could finish the word.
The sound was brutal. The man stumbled, then retaliated, grabbing a nearby metal bar and swinging it toward Charles' ribs. Charles dodged, rage burning through every muscle, and threw another punch, this time hitting his gut. The man doubled over with a groan, and Charles caught him by the shirt again, slamming him against the door so hard the bell above it jingled violently.
"I told you to watch your fucking mouth!" Charles hissed, his eyes blazing. "You ever mention her again, or even breathe in her direction, I swear, I'll bury you myself."
The man spat blood onto Charles' shirt and laughed weakly. "You think you scare me?"
Charles didn't hesitate, he shoved him outside, the door banging open as he threw him like trash onto the pavement. "Get the fuck out of my sight. And if I ever see your face again, I won't hold back next time."
The man's two lackeys scrambled after him, helping him up. One turned back to spit on the floor of the shop. "Fuck you. You're going to regret this." Then they disappeared into the night.
Inside, the air was thick with tension. Andrew just stood there, speechless, his eyes darting between the blood smear on the wall and Charles' heaving chest.
Charles ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. "Shit." Then he turned sharply toward Andrew. "Man, help me find her."
Without waiting for an answer, he dashed outside, scanning the street. "Ava!"
Andrew sighed, grabbing his jacket. "What the hell just happened..." he mumbled, stepping out the back door.
There, just behind the shop, sitting on the cold pavement, was Ava. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her knees, her shoulders trembling as she cried quietly, hidden in the shadows of the alleyway.
Andrew hesitated, his expression softening. He didn't know her story, but the pain written on her face was enough to silence any question.
"Hey, Charles!" he called. "She's here!"
Ava flinched at his voice and looked up, her tear-streaked face pale and exhausted. She quickly averted her gaze again.
Andrew crouched beside her, unsure of what to say. "Those men are gone. Charles took care of it." He paused. "Do you... know them?"
Before she could answer, Charles appeared, panting slightly. His eyes softened the moment he saw her. Without a word, he crouched in front of her, reaching out to gently tilt her chin upward.
"Look at me, Ava."
Slowly, she obeyed, her eyes glimmering with tears.
"They won't lay a finger on you again," he said firmly, voice low but steady. "I promise."
Ava's lips trembled as she gave a small nod, then looked away again, clutching her knees tighter.
Andrew folded his arms, exhaling sharply. "Okay," he said finally, his voice cutting through the silence. "Who's going to tell me what the fuck just happened?"
Charles exhaled slowly, glancing up at Andrew before looking back down at Ava, who was still trembling slightly, her face hidden in her palms.
"Let's get her seated first," he said quietly. "Somewhere more comfortable."
He gently took Ava's hand, helping her to her feet. She wobbled a little, and he instinctively steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.
"If I'd known what was going on," he muttered, his voice rough, "I would've told you sooner."
Andrew nodded, still shaken. "Come on," he said softly. "Let's go to the staff room."
He led them down a narrow corridor to a small, quiet room at the back of the shop. The space smelled faintly of coffee and cleaning detergent, with mismatched chairs and a humming vending machine in the corner. Andrew gestured for Ava to sit. She did, folding her hands in her lap, her eyes downcast.
Charles and Andrew stood side by side, their eyes fixed on her.
Charles spoke first, his tone careful but firm. "Ava, who were those men? Why were they mentioning your mother?"
Ava stiffened, her hands tightening around the fabric of her skirt. Her gaze flicked toward Andrew nervously. Can I really trust him?
Charles seemed to notice her hesitation. He softened his tone. "You can talk, Ava. Andrew's not just some coworker, he's my brother in all but blood. If I trust him, you can too."
Andrew gave a faint, reassuring smile. "Yeah," he added. "And between the two of us, I'm the better listener anyway."
Charles shot him a warning glare, but it eased the tension just enough for Ava to breathe again.
She took a deep, shaky breath. Okay... if Mr. Charles trusts him, maybe I can too.
When she finally spoke, her voice trembled like glass.
"I let that man... do It to me... for seven thousand dollars."
Her voice cracked, and her eyes glistened as she swallowed hard. "I didn't want to, I swear. I just... I needed the money. Rent was due, and I still had school fees to pay. I didn't have anyone else to ask for help." Her fingers trembled as she tried to wipe her tears, but they kept falling. "If I hadn't taken that money, I'd have been kicked out of school by now. Maybe even on the streets."
The room went still.
Charles' eyes widened in disbelief. His stomach twisted as her words sank in. That man... It was him. I didn't see his face properly that night, but God, it was him. A hot wave of guilt and anger coursed through him. He clenched his fists. I could've killed him sooner.
Andrew's jaw dropped. "Wait... what did you just say?" His voice was hoarse. "You let him do that to you... for seven thousand dollars?" He ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps away before turning back to her. "Jesus Christ, Ava... How old are you?"
"Nineteen," she murmured, staring down at her hands.
Andrew just stood there, speechless. His face was a mixture of shock and pity, and for once, the joking tone he always carried was gone.
Charles crouched in front of Ava again and tilted her chin up gently. His voice was low. "Why did you do that, Ava? You could've gone to a cheaper school... found another way."
Ava's lip trembled as she pulled her face from his hand. "Because my parents died trying to get me into that school, okay?!" Her voice cracked as tears spilled freely now. "Not everyone is born with money or a safety net, Mr. Charles."
She took a deep breath, her voice trembling but steady enough to continue. "My parents worked for that man... Jacob. They cleaned his house, washed his clothes, did everything he asked, no matter how cruel. He treated them like slaves. We barely had food most nights, but my parents never complained... they just kept saying, 'Endure it for Ava's future.'"
Charles turned away, biting his tongue, his fists tight at his sides. Jacob... that bastard.
Ava's voice dropped to a whisper. "But one day, he got angry. I don't even remember why. He was drunk, yelling at my father... and then..." Her words broke. "He shot them. Both of them. Right in front of me."
Andrew's breath caught in his throat. His hand instinctively went to his mouth, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Jesus... Ava..."
Ava's whole body trembled as she continued, her voice no longer steady. "I was six. After that, I was sent to an adoption center, but nobody wanted me. I stopped talking after I saw them die. I... I couldn't speak for years."
Charles turned around slowly, his face pale. He ran a hand over his mouth, unable to look her in the eye. Her story... it's worse than I ever imagined.
Andrew crouched down beside her, hesitating before gently rubbing her shoulder. "Hey... you don't have to say more," he murmured. His usual lighthearted tone was gone, replaced by genuine concern.
Ava wiped her tears with the back of her hand, trying to steady her breathing. "I thought if I just worked hard enough... if I stayed in school, it would all be worth it. That's why I took the deal. I didn't care what happened to me."
Charles' voice was low, almost trembling. "You don't ever have to do that again, Ava. Not while I'm around."
Ava nodded faintly, eyes red.
Then, she looked at him with a strange mix of fear and warning. "You're not safe anymore, Charles..."
Her voice cracked as she met his gaze. "Those men..."
The rest of her words faded into silence, leaving both men frozen, caught between confusion and dread.
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''... they'll come back...''
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TO BE CONTINUED...