Crime (h.s. au)

Chapter Twenty One

Ava

"I'm okay. I promise," I tell Michael, his scoff making me roll my eyes.

"You fucking took the day off. Clearly you are not okay," he states, tossing his feet up onto the table. I push them off immediately, scolding him.

"You gonna tell me why you called me over here or am I going to have to guess?" he asks, my hand grabbing my wine glass. I take a sip that was more than likely larger than I should have, and he parts his lips.

"Oh fuck, Ava, you didn't?" he asks, my eyes looking away from him. He is the only one who can read me like an open book. There are only a few instances I've done this, and only one was when it was a boy. And that time, happens to be right now.

"I fucked up," I say, his eyes widening. "Big time."

"You need to spill. Now," he nearly demands, and I put my glass down. I should probably hold onto it, but with the case that had opened up yesterday, who knows when I'll be called to the station.

"Harry came over last night and I made dinner for us. The only reason I did was because he invited me over to his place and we just talked for a bit then. But last night, we were talking and there were a few things that got me thinking and I'm so, so, so far in deep," I say, running my fingers through my hair.

The thought of Harry floods my mind and I feel my cheeks flush, recalling every minute of the time he spent here. I had never done something so spontaneous before and I don't regret it, but I fear any sort of repercussions that may occur if anyone found out.

"What did you do?" he asks, my lower lip pulled between my teeth.

"Michael," I start, nervous to bring the past back up. I hate it each and every time I do so, but I have to for this sake.

"Ava," he mocks, and I take a deep breath.

"Harry was the one...at the warehouse," I admit, his eyes blinking. He takes a moment to realize what I said and then he sits back up.

"Wait, you mean," he starts, then drags his finger along his cheek. I nod slowly and he gasps, my hand pressing to my forehead.

"Holy fuck, Ava," he breathes out, my head nodding.

"I know. And I freaked out and locked myself in the bathroom for a minute to calm myself down. I hadn't thought about that night in years and I didn't put two and two together when he explained how he got the scar. We were at Lou's when he did," I start and his eyes are attentive on me.

"Then, he started telling me that he was working at a warehouse when it happened. The person stole something extremely valuable. And then, he told me the story again about how he got kicked in the gut and a knife slashed his cheek," I finish, his hand covering his mouth.

It's a story that would leave most speechless, even if they had already known what occurred. Case in point, Michael. I've struggled to think about what would happen if anyone found out about my troubled past, and now I'm extremely worried if Harry got too close, my secret would be out.

"Is that why you took off?" he asks, and I nod my head.

"I needed time to collect myself, get over what I was feeling. When I finally pushed everything about that night out of my head, Harry came back into my mind," I sigh, pressing my lips together.

"I mean, he is really fucking hot," he remarks, and I roll my eyes.

He's not wrong, however, because I had so many emotions flowing through me that I did the unthinkable.

"Michael, I did what I had wanted to do since the two of us had our first real conversation outside of work. I paced my room, thinking about him, and I just said fuck it. I drove to the station, apologized to the Chief for calling in, but I told him I needed Harry's help with something," I tell him, and he give me a devilish smile. I slap his arm.