My THUG LOVER

chapter 21 : ROOM 719

MY THUG LOVER

Chapter 21: Room 719

Ava's POV

The number on the door stared back at me.

719.

For a moment, I couldn't move. My fingers tightened around the small piece of paper in my hand, and my heart pounded so loudly that I could barely hear the sounds coming from the other side of the door.

Jace stood beside me, unusually quiet.

"Are you sure this is the room?" I whispered.

He looked at the paper, then at the door.

"Yes."

"Then why do you look like you're about to kill somebody?"

His jaw tightened. "Because I know what might be waiting for us inside."

I swallowed hard.

"Jace, what exactly are you hiding from me?"

He turned toward me. His eyes softened, but there was something dark behind them—something he had been trying to bury for far too long.

"Ava, whatever happens when that door opens, I need you to understand one thing."

"What?"

"Don't believe everything you hear."

I stared at him.

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"No." He took my hand. "It's supposed to keep you from making a mistake you'll regret."

I pulled my hand away.

"I'm tired of your secrets, Jace. I'm tired of walking into dangerous situations without knowing why I'm there. If this has something to do with my father, you better tell me now."

His expression changed.

And that was when I knew.

My father was connected to Room 719.

Before I could question him further, a sound came from inside the room.

A chair scraped against the floor.

Then a man's voice spoke.

"You're late, Williams."

My blood ran cold.

Jace closed his eyes briefly, as though he had been expecting this moment for years.

"Stay behind me," he murmured.

"Don't tell me what to do."

Despite everything, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Still stubborn."

"And you're still annoying."

For one ridiculous second, I almost smiled.

Then the door opened.

A man in a dark suit stood before us. He was tall, with a thin scar running from his left temple toward his cheek. His eyes moved from Jace to me, and a strange smile spread across his face.

"Well," he said. "You actually brought her."

Jace stepped forward.

"Where is he?"

The man's smile disappeared.

"Straight to business. You haven't changed."

"Where is he, Marcus?"

Marcus glanced at me again.

"Does she know?"

"Know what?" I demanded.

Neither man answered.

I pushed past Marcus before Jace could stop me.

The room was dimly lit. Heavy curtains covered the windows, and a bottle of untouched whiskey sat on a table beside two glasses. A leather chair faced the window.

Someone was sitting in it.

His back was turned toward us.

I took one step forward.

Then another.

Something about the man's shoulders, the way he held his head, felt painfully familiar.

"Hello, Ava."

The glass slipped from my hand and shattered against the floor.

I knew that voice.

I had heard it in childhood memories, in nightmares, and in the recordings that had turned my entire world upside down.

"No," I whispered.

The man slowly turned his chair.

His face was older than I remembered. There were lines around his eyes, and his hair had more gray in it. But those eyes were unmistakable.

My knees nearly gave way.

"Dad?"

My father looked at me with an expression I couldn't understand.

Sadness.

Regret.

Fear.

All three were there.

"Ava, sweetheart."

I shook my head violently.

"No. No, this isn't happening."

I stumbled backward, and Jace caught me before I fell.

I pushed against his chest.

"Don't touch me!"

He immediately released me.

My eyes never left my father.

"You disappeared. We searched for you. Mom cried every night. I thought you were dead!"

My voice broke on the last word.

My father lowered his head.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" I laughed, but the sound came out broken. "You think sorry is enough?"

"No."

"Then why are you here? Why did you let us believe you were gone?"

He looked toward Jace.

And suddenly, the room felt ten degrees colder.

"Because I had to protect you."

I followed his gaze.

Jace stood motionless, his face unreadable.

I looked between them.

"What does Jace have to do with your disappearance?"

My father opened his mouth, but Marcus interrupted.

"Perhaps Mr. Williams should explain his part first."

Jace's eyes flashed.

"Shut your mouth, Marcus."

Marcus chuckled.

"Still playing the hero? That's amusing, considering what you did to this family."

I turned toward Jace.

"What is he talking about?"

Jace didn't answer.

My heart began to sink.

"Jace."

He looked at me, and for the first time since I'd known him, he appeared genuinely afraid.

Not afraid of Marcus.

Not afraid of my father.

Afraid of what I might discover.

"Ava, I was young," he said quietly. "I made a mistake."

"What mistake?"

He swallowed.

"I gave Damien Cole information about your father."

The words struck me harder than any slap could have.

I stared at him.

"You what?"

"I didn't know what Damien intended to do with it."

"But you gave him information about my father?"

"Yes."

I stepped away from him.

Every memory came rushing back—the way Jace had appeared in my life, the way he always seemed to know when I was in danger, the way he became furious whenever I asked about my father's disappearance.

Had any of it been real?

"Did you approach me because of him?" I whispered.

"No."

"Look me in the eyes and say it."

He did.

"I approached you for reasons I regret. But falling in love with you was never part of anybody's plan."

Tears blurred my vision.

"Don't."

"Ava—"

"Don't you dare tell me you love me right now!"

My father rose from his chair.

"Jace has been trying to make things right."

I turned on him.

"And you knew?"

He hesitated.

That hesitation destroyed something inside me.

"You knew what he did, and you still let me trust him?"

"I had my reasons."

"Everybody has reasons!" I screamed. "Everybody has an excuse! But nobody ever thinks about what it does to me!"

Silence swallowed the room.

For once, no one had an answer.

I wiped my cheeks angrily and straightened my shoulders.

I was done being the girl everyone protected with lies.

"Tell me everything," I demanded. "From the beginning. No more secrets."

My father looked at Jace.

Jace looked at Marcus.

And Marcus smiled.

"Careful what you ask for, sweetheart."

I glared at him.

"I wasn't talking to you."

His smile widened.

"Then perhaps you should know that your father isn't the only person in this room with a secret."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a photograph.

He placed it on the table.

I approached slowly.

The picture showed my father standing outside a building beside Damien Cole. A younger Jace stood a few feet away, his face turned toward the camera.

But it wasn't Jace that made my breath catch.

It was the woman standing between them.

My mother.

On the back of the photograph, someone had written a date.

The date my father disappeared.

I picked it up with trembling fingers.

"Why was my mother there?"

Nobody spoke.

I looked at my father.

"Dad?"

His eyes filled with tears.

Then he said the words that changed everything.

"Because your mother was the one who arranged the meeting."

My world tilted.

"No."

"I'm sorry, Ava."

"No!" I threw the photograph onto the table. "You're lying!"

"I wish I were."

I backed away, shaking my head.

My mother had spent years telling me that Damien Cole destroyed our family. She had cried over my father's disappearance. She had held me through nightmares and promised me that one day we would know the truth.

Had she been lying to me all along?

Jace moved toward me, but I raised my hand.

"Don't come near me."

He stopped.

His eyes were full of pain.

I wanted to hate him. I wanted to hate every person in that room.

But the worst part was that somewhere beneath my anger, I still wanted Jace to hold me and tell me everything would be okay.

And I hated myself for it.

Suddenly, Marcus's phone vibrated.

He checked the screen, and the smile vanished from his face.

"What is it?" my father asked.

Marcus looked directly at me.

"We have a problem."

Jace immediately moved toward the door.

"What's happening?"

Marcus turned the phone around.

A photograph filled the screen.

My mother was standing outside the hotel.

Beside her was a man I had never seen before.

Below the photograph was a message.

SHE KNOWS ABOUT ROOM 719. GET AVA OUT NOW.

Before anyone could react, the lights went out.

A loud crash came from the hallway.

Someone shouted.

Jace grabbed my hand in the darkness.

"Ava, run!"

A gunshot exploded.

I screamed.

Jace pulled me to the floor, covering me with his body as glass shattered somewhere behind us.

"Jace!"

"I'm here." His voice was close to my ear. "Stay down!"

More footsteps thundered outside the room.

Then I heard my father's voice.

"Ava! Get away from the door!"

A second gunshot rang out.

When the emergency lights flickered on, I turned toward my father.

He was standing near the window, one hand pressed against his side.

Blood seeped between his fingers.

"Dad!"

I scrambled toward him, but Jace caught my waist.

"Wait! We don't know if the hallway is clear."

"That's my father!"

"And I won't let them take you too!"

I fought against him.

"Let me go!"

He held me tighter, his voice breaking.

"Please, Ava. I can't lose you."

I froze.

For one second, I saw the terrified boy he must have been when he made the mistake that changed our lives.

Then my father collapsed.

Everything else disappeared.

I ran to him.

"Dad! Stay with me!"

His fingers closed around my wrist.

"Ava," he whispered. "Listen to me carefully."

"I'm here. I'm here, Dad."

He struggled to breathe.

"Your mother… she didn't arrange that meeting to destroy our family."

I leaned closer.

"Then why did she do it?"

His eyes shifted toward Jace.

"Because she was trying to save you."

Before I could ask what he meant, my father pressed something cold into my palm.

A small silver key.

"Find the locker," he whispered. "The number is—"

The door burst open.

A figure dressed in black stepped into the room.

Jace rose, placing himself between us.

The stranger lifted a gun.

"Step away from her, Williams."

Jace didn't move.

The stranger tilted his head.

"Last chance."

I clutched the key so tightly that its edges dug into my skin.

Then the stranger spoke again.

And I recognized his voice.

It was the same voice I had heard in the recording that started this nightmare.

The voice that had warned my father not to trust Jace Williams.

"I'm sorry, Ava," the stranger said. "But your father should have stayed dead."

The gun turned toward me.

And Jace stepped in front of the barrel.