Shameless (The Therapist #2), стр. 21

“No, please. You don't have to do that,” I plead, although I know the manager is exactly right. If I were in her position, I would call the police, too. Since I’m Ava’s companion, however, I feel the need to try to defuse the situation. “We’re going to leave. It’s okay, we’re leaving.”

Luckily, my words seem to give the manager pause, as she stops at the door she came out of and waits. She looks at me before glaring at Ava, who’s standing at the counter glaring at both of them like she’s really ready to set something ablaze. If she had matches with her, the fire department would be on its way right now.

“Fuck that, I’m not going anywhere,” Ava blurts. “Fuck both of you. He is mine!”

“Goddamnit, Ava, nobody cares. This isn't even about that. Let’s just go before you get arrested over this stupid shit.”

I reach out to grab Ava’s hand, but she snatches it away. I try it a second time, and I’m able to grip her wrist and pull her gently towards the door. Reluctantly, and while maintaining her intimidating gaze at the workers, Ava lets me guide her out of the theater.

We walk quickly through the food court, avoiding the staring, judgmental gaze of everybody who was able to hear Ava’s outburst, and push through the exit. It was only a few minutes, but the whole ordeal felt like it lasted an hour before I was able to pull her away. Once we’re outside, I stop and turn to her.

“What the hell was that?” I bark, while still trying to keep my voice down. “That kid was a teenager, and she wasn't doing anything wrong. She was just taking my order, Ava.”

“Maybe you didn't see it, Malcolm, but she wanted you. I saw it in her eyes,” Ava says, and I can tell she really believes it. There was no evidence to support this claim, but in Ava’s mind, the concession worker’s eyes were enough to cause the whole scene, and there isn't a single bone in her body that regrets it.

“Well, nobody else saw it, Ava. All they saw was you, a grown woman, harassing a teenager. You can't do shit like that. It’s unnecessary and embarrassing.”

“I wasn't trying to embarrass you, Malcolm. I would never do that,” Ava says. She steps closer to me, and I feel an urge in my stomach to take a step back, but I don't. “I only did it because I felt the need to defend you. I felt threatened, and you know I’ve dealt with bullshit in the past. I just wanted to make sure she knew that you're mine. You're mine, and I’m yours. That’s it. I don't care how crazy I look to people who don't know anything about us. We belong to each other. Right?”

Ava looks me in the eyes, and I know she needs me to agree with her. Knowing her history the way I do, if I say the wrong thing here, it might have catastrophic effects. With that thought, though, I realize just how volatile this situation is. Ava is the embodiment of kinky perfection in bed and the Black House, but is all of that worth it outside the bedroom?

I swallow hard as Ava takes another step forward and grabs both of my hands. She holds them there, looking up at me, awaiting my response. I don't know what to say, because I'm conflicted. I know what she wants to hear, but I also know how I feel right now.

“We need to go,” I say, after too long of a pause. “We need to get out of here before the cops actually show up. I don't want to stand here watching you get hauled off to jail.”

Ava doesn't look happy, but she nods her head.

“Yes, sir,” she says, before unveiling a seductive smile.

I know what she’s trying to do, and it takes everything in me to ignore it and guide us to my truck. As we exit the parking lot, we drive right past a cop car with its lights on, and I watch in my rearview mirror as the car drives up to the doors we just exited.