Ava
The Uber rolls to a stop in front of a barely standing building. The middle-aged driver glances at me through the rearview mirror, his brows pinching together. I ignore the look he gives me and shove a few bills into his hand before stepping out.
The address Aaron sends me leads me to the industrial side of Chicago, where rusting metal fences and abandoned buildings line the quiet streets.
Why the hell did he want to meet up in a place like this?
The moment I shut the door, the Uber peels away, the roar of the engine fading into the distance, leaving me with nothing but a puff of engine smoke and dust.
Coming to an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere simply because my brother preferred it over coffee in a cafe like normal people should certainly count as my top ten biggest mistakes.
My gaze scans the area, and so far, it seems safe and normal.
Slipping away from Benjamin had proven difficult.
I’d asked him to stop at a random art store, claiming I needed to get some art supplies for the studio.
I pretended to browse the aisles, for twenty solid minutes before deciding he was distracted enough for me to slip away.
It honestly wasn’t my best plan, but it was good enough to let me escape, which is the important thing, I guess.
A gust of wind rushes past, rattling the loose chains on the gate while sending a roll of shivers down my spine.
That’s my cue.
My steps are cautious as I approach the rusty metal. There’s a huge padlock holding the chains together, and I reach out to see if it’s unlocked and sure enough… It is.
The gate creaks loudly when I touch it, sending a flock of birds squawking and flying into the sky like I’d just let out a shot from a pistol.
I grimace. So much for quiet.
Obscene sketches mark the wall of the building Aaron told me to meet him at, the next more distasteful than the last.
I tilt my head at the one near the fourth window, the blend of colours momentarily catching my attention before I shake the sight away and trudge on.
Inside the building is no different from the outside. The walls are barely standing having been waned by time. Green moss cling to the cracks in the wall and wooden lumber lay carelessly on different areas of the floor. Sunlight filters in through the grime-covered winder, casting faint shadows from the logs across the broken concrete floor like grasping fingers.
A cold chill rushes through me and I have to physically stop myself from running away when I’m startled by the sound of a rat running away.
Aaron better have a damn good reason for dragging me out here.
“Ava?”
The voice nearly gives me a heart attack. I spin around, instantly feeling the weight release from my shoulders, when I see Aaron standing a few feet away, arms casually crossed across his chest, watching me.
How long has he been standing there?
He looks the same and yet so different. He’s spotting a plain cotton shirt matched with a pair of dark denim trousers. His dark brown hair is longer than I remember, slightly tousled too like he’d run his fingers through the strands shortly before appearing in front of me. A faint layer of stubble shadows his jaw, a stark contrast to his usual clean-shaven look. Dark circles linger beneath his eyes, making him appear tired and worn like he hadn’t slept in days.
And Maybe he hadn’t. I don’t know but what I do know is that he’s here and he’s alive.
His sharp gaze sweeps over me, assessing, searching, as if trying to figure out if I’m real or just a figment of his exhausted mind.
I can’t help it, I run.
Straight into his arms.
He lets out a low grunt when my body collides with his, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
Aaron stiffens for a moment before his arms come around me, holding me gently, yet firmly. We weren’t usually the kind of siblings who showed affection like this, we usually took the traditional route of half-assed jokes and the occasional noogies, but this time was different.
I squeeze my eyes shut, breathing him in. His scent is familiar-laundry detergent and something metallic.
When he pulls away and swipes his thumb over my cheek it’s only then I realize that my eyes are leaking.
I furiously swipe away the teardrops and pull away from his embrace, staring him straight in the eyes as I say. “You scared the crap out of me, you asshole,”
He lets out a chuckle, the sound rough and hollow. Even his laugh sounded different.
What happened while he was away? The question nags at me as we break apart.
“I’ve missed you,” He says when we both settle near one of the battered windows on top of the log with fewer termites than the others.
I scoff, “You have a funny way of showing it”
I don’t mean for it to come out as sharply as it did and when I turn so that I’m fully facing him, I can see the regret plastered all over his face.
“Why aren’t you in London, and Why didn’t you tell me that you were back in Chicago? Why did I have to hear that you’re alive from Cara?”
The questions tumble one after the other, leaving no room for me to catch my breath.
“I thought about calling you.” He says. ” Several times actually. I was worried about you, about how you were doing.”
He drums his fingers against his knee, a habit I’ve seen a hundred times before and one he only does when he’s restless.
“So why didn’t you call?”
He pauses for a moment and then exhales very slowly, “At first, when I came back, I was busy; I barely had enough time to sleep, let alone consider the fact that you might need me. That might be a bit of an asshole thing to say, but it’s the truth, and when I did find the time to call you, I wasn’t sure it was safe enough to let you know I was here”
I frown adjusting myself on the log while ignoring the way the bark digs into my jeans. I’m going to find splinters in this pair for months after today.
What did he mean by he wasn’t sure it was safe enough to contact me and why was he talking about my safety as if he’d done something to put it in danger?
“Aaron, what do you mean by you didn’t know if it was safe to contact me.” I lean in closer and lower my voice even though I know it’s only the two of us present in the building. “Did something happen when you came back?”
He doesn’t deny it.
“Are you in some sort of trouble?” I press.
A beat passes between us. He tips his head forward, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“I screwed up, A,” He says after a while. “I screwed up real bad.”
He sounds like a broken record and I can feel the knot in my stomach grow with each passing second.
“Screwed up, how?”
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he glances away, almost like he’s trying to find the right words-or maybe even the courage to say them.
“If you’re going to make me meet you in an abandoned warehouse when we could’ve caught up in a cafe like normal people the least you can do is tell me how you screwed up?”
A small smile tugs at his lips, and for a moment, it almost feels like I have my brother again.
“Do you remember when we were kids, how we used to play hide and seek in the backyard, and I always picked the worst hiding spots?”
I frown, confused by the sudden change of topic. “Yeah… you sucked at it.”
Aaron huffs out a small laugh. ” I never could stay hidden for long. You always found me.”
He sounds almost whimsical. His gaze darkens for a brief second and he clenches his fingers around his knees.
“What does us playing hide and seek as children have to do with any of this?”
He continues as if my question is irrelevant to the conversation, which, let’s face it, it isn’t.
“I don’t know if you remember but there was this particular day when you couldn’t find me. You and Dad were worried sick.” He lets out another humourless crackle.
“You cried.” He says. “You thought something happened to me since you couldn’t find me and told Dad that you wouldn’t eat until I was found.”
I do remember the day he’s talking about. It was shortly after our mother died and I’d been crying non-stop.
Aaron wanted to cheer me up and decided that a game of hide and seek would be just the thing since it was something I always won.
“How can I forget? You scared the crap out of me. Dad was so worried. And the worst part? You claimed to have lost track of time and didn’t even notice it had gotten late.”
The sound he lets out is between a laugh and a groan, and he flinches slightly before hurriedly disguising it as him shifting on the log.
“Yeah, well, I might not have been entirely honest about what really happened.”
My brows pull together as he lifts his gaze to meet mine. It’s the first time he’s really looked at me since I came. Light flecks of gold dust his iris and I’m momentarily lost in their shine. When we were younger, most people who saw us on the streets with our mother-and later with our nanny-made it their life mission to compliment his eyes. They looked nothing like our mother’s or father’s and When Aaron brought it up to our mother, she simply said he had inherited his eyes from her father.
His eyes search my face like he’s trying to gauge my reaction before speaking.
“I’d hidden in the attic because I knew it was the one place you wouldn’t go since you were terrified of the dark.”
His fingers twitch against his knee, almost like he’s bracing himself.
“While I was up there, I went through some of Mum’s old things.” His voice drops slightly, and he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, gaze flickering away for only a split second before returning to mine.
My stomach does a summersault and as much as I hate to ask the question burns at the tip of my tongue.
“What did you find?”
“I found a picture. Which should’ve been nothing special, just another old photo buried in Mum’s things.”
He exhales slowly like he’s bracing himself for a blow.
“But then I looked closer.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks.
“It wasn’t just any picture. It was a wedding photo, and Mum was in it” His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “She was with some guy I’d never seen before. And, Ava…” He hesitates, his voice dropping even lower.
“She was pregnant.”