Leave Me Breathless: The Ivy Collection

by KL Donn

  “I loved her mother. Do you remember Marianna? She used to make you cookies and sing to you,” Prez tells him.

  West frowns but nods. “I thought she was a dream?” His words don’t surprise me. His mother is a junkie, a mean fucking bitch. Word is she put holes in Prez’s condoms, thinking she’d become Prez’s ol’ lady. She was a club girl at the time, and when Prez told her he’d own up to his responsibilities but wouldn’t claim her ass, she lost it. She disappeared for a few years when West was three, and when she came back, she was addicted to crack. Prez tried over the years to get her ass straight, but she always finds a way of getting it. Hell, even West gave up trying a few years ago. They allow her around the club out of respect for West. We all fucking tolerate her.

  His hands delve into his pockets. “No, she was real. I loved that woman, only woman I will ever fucking love. She died giving birth, a genetic thing—I don’t fucking know what they called it. “Basically she bled out.” He pauses, after a moment, he collects himself. “You came to see Harla.”.”

  He pulls out an old, crinkled photo from his pocket. It seems worn, like someone has looked at it repeatedly. He hands it to West. “I didn’t know how to raise a fucking girl. Fuck, I just about raised you without fucking it up. So my ma said she’d take her, that she’d raise her. I visited when I could. She isn’t made for this life. She’s too fucking pure, too fucking good, and I thought I was doing the right thing!”

  His words sound strange and full of regret. He slides down the wall, pulling at his hair, a wild look in his eyes that tells anyone with a fucking brain to back the fuck away. I guess I don’t have one because I bend down in front of him, making sure he’s looking me in my eyes and hearing what I’m about to say.

  “She held a gun to us. She wasn’t backing down. She was scared shitless, yes. Shaking like a fucking leaf? Hell yeah. You might not have brought her up, but that’s your blood she’s got running through her, Prez.”

  Prez looks at me, his eyes widening a fraction before he fucking grins. “Fuck, boy, I think that’s the most I’ve ever fucking heard you say.”

  I turn my head away. “I say stupid shit. Learned a long time ago what happens to people who can’t hold that stupid in.”

  Prez’s eyes flash with something. He nods before tapping my shoulder and squeezing it tight. “Get to bed, boys, it’s been a long ass fucking night. We got church early in the morning. We need to find out who went after Harla.”

  West looks at his old man. “I am fucking pissed, and I understand your reason, but I should have known. I could have lost my sister and not even known her, and that falls on your shoulders.” He walks away before slamming his bedroom door.

  I tap Prez’s shoulder before making my way to my room, but I know I won’t sleep. I rarely do, but tonight I won’t for a completely different reason.

  My room is not like most of the brothers’ rooms. Mine is tidy, everything put away. It’s the first home I’ve ever had, and I love it. It’s only big enough for a double bed, chest of drawers, wardrobe and a desk. It’s bigger than most due to my status as the club’s enforcer. I’ve even got my own bathroom. Glancing back at the bedroom door, I see my name on it. That shit feels as close to good as I’ll ever feel.

  After taking a shower, I change into sweatpants and a t-shirt. I grab the bottle of Jack that’s sat on my nightstand only to instantly put it back down. What if Angel needs something and no one hears her? What if someone has followed her here and tries to end what they started? Sweat covers my skin, and I reach for the door, not giving it a second thought. I nod to a few of the brothers as I walk past them, coming to a stop when I reach her room.

  I lift my hand, ready to knock on the door. Shit. What the fuck am I going to say? I don’t say much. I’ve no idea what I’m meant to say. When I opened my mouth earlier, it must have been a fluke. She doesn’t need to know I’m watching her. My back hits the wall and I slide down it, my ass hitting the floor, and I stay here like a fucking guard dog. I’ll leave before she even knows I was here.

  3

  Harla

  His hands reach out for me, but I shrink away. There’s blood dripping down his fingers and onto the floor. A strangled groan escapes me as I try to put some distance between us, but my foot slides through the blood that’s on the floor, and I lose my balance. I fall to the ground, my back hitting something solid. I freeze when I realize I’m lying on Gigi’s body. Lifting my hand, a scream escapes me when I see all the blood—Gigi’s blood. I scramble away from her but it’s no use. He’s following me.

  Within seconds, he’s on top of me, a knife at my throat and a sinister grin on his face as his eyes darken with rage, his jagged scar clear to see. I claw at his hands, which feel like sandpaper against my skin, my nails digging into his arm as the tip of the knife digs harder against my throat, nicking the skin. I heave at the smell of tobacco from him. I feel the trickle of blood drip down my neck. Fear tries to consume me, but I can’t let it. If I do, I’m dead. I can’t let that happen. I must escape. I must get away.

  A loud bang wakes me, my entire body drenched in sweat. I take a shaky hand and lift it to my neck, sweat damp on my palm. I shake my head. Just a dream, only a dream. Lifting my arm, it protests in pain. It’s not as bad as it was, but still sore to move. The graze down my side isn’t affecting me too much.

  I sit up and look around the room. It’s dark, and there’s not much to identify whose room this is. There are no pictures on the walls or on the nightstand. The room isn’t very big, holding a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a nightstand, a chair, and this double bed. Every piece of furniture is a deep mahogany that adds to the darkness.

  My mind immediately goes back to the man who put himself between me and everyone else. The man that made my heart pound faster, and not because of fear but something I couldn’t comprehend. He should have scared me. There’s bad boy written all over him. From the sullen looks to the pissed off vibes, he should have made me want to run just like all the other men had made me want to, but I didn’t. I wanted to be closer to him. He protected me, and for that I’m so grateful. When I wrapped my arms around him, for that split second, I felt so safe, like nothing would ever harm me.

  I can’t believe this is where my dad is. He’s been so close for so long, and I never even knew. I haven’t told him about Gigi. I know I need to, but I’m not even sure how to begin. How do I tell him that I’ve left her there, that she’s dead and alone? I hate that I left her there.

  Shaking my head, I rid the thoughts, not wanting to cry anymore. God, it took me ages to go to sleep. As soon as Dad left the room and the doctor went, I cried myself to sleep. I’m tired, but there’s no way I can go back to sleep now, with the remnants of my dream still hanging over me. I need to get some air, or at least get out of this room.

  Getting out of bed, I walk over to the door. My hand tentatively reaches for the handle. I have no idea what the time is; are all the men going to be outside? I’m not sure if I’ll be able to deal with them right now.

  Opening the door, I’m shocked to find the man that kept me safe outside. He must have been sitting on the floor because he jumps to his feet within seconds of the door opening.

  “Hi,” I whisper, unsure of what to say.

  “You okay?” His deep voice makes me shiver.

  I nod. “I just need some air.”

  His brown eyes deepen, so much so that they’re almost black. “Come on.” His voice is weird, and I’m wondering if I cried out whilst I was dreaming.

  I stand against the door, feeling a little awkward. I have no idea what his name is. “I’d like a glass of water, please.” My mouth is so dry, my tongue darts out and swipes my bottom lip.

  His gaze follows my tongue, and he narrows his eyes before quickly straightening. He nods for me to follow him downstairs, and I do, not sure where we’re going.

  “West, come back to bed.” The purr of a woman’s voice gets my attention. I peer past my protector and see a woman w
earing a tight dress, her blonde hair straight and falling down her back. She’s gorgeous.

  “Shut up, Callie,” a gruff voice calls out, and I see it’s one of the men that surrounded me when I crashed. He has a scruffy beard. His head turns to us and his eyes narrow. He was mad when Dad and I hugged. I don’t know why, but I think he doesn’t like me. I quickly move so that I’m hidden behind my protector’s back.

  “West,” my protector grunts.

  “Fucking too early for this shit, Saint.”

  My cheeks flame. I definitely shouted out while I was dreaming. I feel bad for waking them up.

  Saint… that’s his name? I hear a low growl coming from him.

  The woman laughs and it’s as though bells are ringing. “He’s been like this all night.”

  Saint shakes his head. “Brother?”

  “Why is she hiding behind you?” The confusion is clear to hear, as is the anger.

  “You’re growling at the poor girl,” Callie tells him. She moves so that she’s in my line of sight. “I’m Callie.” She smiles at me, and it looks genuine.

  I walk toward her, holding out my hand. “Harla. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Her eyes light up. “Oh, sugar, the pleasure is all mine. Did you get introduced to the men yet?”

  I shake my head as I glance at Saint and West, their eyes on me.

  She throws her arms around my shoulders, pulling me into her body. “Well, Harla, this here is Saint. He doesn't talk much, growls like a lion and hangs in the shadows most of the time, so don’t take it personal. ” She points at the man that protected me.

  She carries on, “This asshole is West. He’s the vice president, though he can be charming when he wants.”

  “Um, hey,” I say, not knowing what he’s the vice president of, but whatever it is, he must be important.

  “So, you’re the president's daughter?”

  “Callie, shut it,” West growls. “Enough,” he reiterates, his eyes narrowed at her.

  I watch as she visibly bites back whatever she was going to say. Shaking her head, she turns to me. “Told you—asshole. Are you staying here? We should hang out.”

  I bite my lip, unsure of what to say. “I actually have no idea what’s going on.”

  She pulls me closer to her. “You’re going to be okay.”

  “She’s right, Harla, you are safe,” West tells me. He seems to have softened to me, which I’m grateful for. He’s got kind eyes. They’re olive, like Gigi’s.

  “Do you know if my dad’s awake? I need to talk to him.” I need to tell him about Gigi.

  “I’m going to get you some clothes,” Callie tells me. “You can’t walk around in those bloody ones. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She flashes me a quick smile before turning to look at West. She gives him a weird look, one that has him rolling his eyes, before walking away.

  “Talk to us?” Saint asks, walking over to the fridge.

  I glance around the kitchen. It’s an off-whitish color, with a fridge, a freezer, a stove, and a huge table and chairs, along with an island and a few stools. The walls are bare, no pictures hung up, making the room look very unhomely.

  “I just need to speak to Dad.” I try and keep my voice even, not wanting to cry nor seem ungrateful. He’s been so nice to me.

  He opens the fridge and hands me a bottle of water. He remembered I wanted a drink.

  “I’m here, baby girl,” Dad says, walking into the room. He looks the same as he always does, his beard grey like his hair. He has frown lines on his head and smile lines around his mouth.

  I shake my head. “You have to go and get Gigi. I left her there, Daddy.” Tears threaten to fall, and I will them back. Now isn’t the time to break again. I need to tell Dad what happened.

  Dad’s eyes flash with anger. He comes to stand beside West. Looking at them, I see so many similarities: the olive eyes, so much like Gigi’s; the way they stand, their jawlines. Everything about them is identical.

  “You’re my brother,” I whisper in disbelief.

  West shakes his head as he glares at Dad. “At least I wasn’t the only one not to know.”

  The smile I have is tight. “This is so freaking cool.” I always wanted a sibling, but not like this. I’m angry, but it’s not West’s fault. He had no idea either. Why would Dad have kept us separate?

  West smiles. He reminds me so much of Dad. “You’re such a girl.”

  I stare at him in horror. Automatically, my hands go to my hips and I glare at him. “I am not!” I’m outraged. How dare he?

  Dad lets out a full belly laugh. “You two haven’t changed.”

  West’s face changes; gone is the happiness, instead, he’s full of rage. “You wanted to tell us something?”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “I left Gigi, and she told me I had to come here. I left her there.”

  “What happened?” Dad questions, taking a seat at the table, West and Saint following suit. West pulls out another chair and nods for me to sit down.

  I take a seat and place the water bottle on the table. “Gigi and I were in the kitchen when we heard the rumble of bikes. Gigi’s face changed. She gave me a gun and told me to hide.” I swallow back the fear and guilt as I look away from the men staring at me.

  “Two men came in, and she fired at them.” I smile. “She hit them both, but one got her.” I shake my head. “She was bleeding so much,” I whisper. “She told me I had to leave, that I had to come here.”

  “Harla.” Dad’s voice is hard, unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. “Baby girl, look at me,” he demands, and I do as he says. “This isn’t your fault. You did exactly as she asked. You know damn well that both Gigi and I would have been pissed had you ignored her.”

  I nod. “I know that, but I left her there. She’s dead on the kitchen floor.” I can’t contain the tears anymore, and they fall silently.

  “Harla, how did you get shot?” Dad asks, ignoring what I’ve just said.

  “When I was leaving, the man that Gigi shot was outside. He was still alive. He heard the car and started shooting.”

  Dad shakes his head. “Is he still alive?”

  I look away, unable to see his face when I tell him, “No, I don’t think so. I ran him over as I drove away.”

  “Atta girl,” I hear West murmur, and I turn to glare at him, but he just smirks at me.

  “Do you know who they were?” Dad asks.

  “I don’t. I never saw them before. The guy I ran over had a phoenix tattoo on his neck.”

  “Fuck!” Dad roars, his hand thumping down onto the table, making it vibrate under the force. “We ride,” he tells them, and both West and Saint are on their feet. “Tell the brothers we leave in ten.”

  I gape at them. What? “Dad?” I’m so confused. Does he know who they were? Where are they riding to?

  “Harla, I’m going to get Gigi.”

  I get to my feet. “I’m coming too.”

  His eyes slice to me. “No, you’re staying here. You’re going back to bed to rest.”

  “Da—”

  “No. I heard you, baby girl. You fucking screamed as if someone was killing you. You’re staying here.” His eyes soften as they glance down at the wound on my shoulder.

  My resolve wains. “Fine. Can you bring me some of my things?”

  He walks over to me and pulls me into his arms, his lips going to my forehead. “Yeah. I’m glad you’re safe, Harla.”

  My hands tighten around his waist. “Love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you too, baby girl.”

  He pulls away, and I instantly feel the loss. As Dad leaves the kitchen, Callie returns, her arms filled with clothes.

  “You okay, Harla?” she asks with a furrow in her brow.

  “Yeah.” I give her my best fake smile.

  She sees straight through it. “No, you’re not, but you will be.”

  “Harla.” I hear my name being called and look up, seeing both West and Saint standing in the doorway. �
�You’ll be safe here. I promise.”

  I nod, knowing I will be. Gigi and Dad wouldn’t have wanted me to come here if I wasn’t. I’m just scared. I’ve never been here before, nor been around this many men before.

  “Callie.” West’s voice is deep as he nods for her to follow him.

  “Stick with Callie,” Saint says gruffly, coming to stand in front of me. “The bitches here are just that… Fucking bitches. You’re too pure for them, Angel. They’ve got claws.”

  I nod. “I’ll stay with Callie.”

  Relief flashes in his eyes, but as quick as it comes it vanishes again. His fingers reach out for my face. I should pull away, but I don’t. Instead, I lean into his touch.

  “Fuck.” It’s a guttural sound.

  “Saint,” I whisper, and his eyes shutter closed as if he’s in pain.

  “I’m not a good man, Angel. You deserve better than a bastard like me. Fuck, you deserve everything.”

  Is he warning me off him?

  My tongue darts out and wets my lips. “What if I want you?” I have no idea where the hell that came from. I’ve never been so brazen, but this man has me wanting things I’ve never wanted before.

  “You’re playing with fire, Angel. You’ll only get burned.” His thumb swipes my bottom lip before he turns and walks away. His touch stays on my skin. I feel him even though he’s gone.

  “Damn, sugar, that was hot!” Callie hoots, coming back into the kitchen. “I’ve never seen that man so—”

  “Callie!” West shouts. She smirks as she brings her finger to her mouth.

  Shaking his head, he turns to me. “See you in a while.” He glares at Callie before leaving.

  “Come on, let’s get you out of those clothes and into the shower,” Callie says, linking her arm through mine and leading me out of the kitchen.

  My gaze is on Saint as we walk past him and the other men, each one of them wearing leather. They’re different shapes and sizes, some older, some younger. One thing they all have in common is that they have an air of danger around them. They look as though they’d kill you with one look.