by Lisa Ladew
Ivy climbed in the truck, wincing at her own blood stains on the seat. She slid over and settled as close to the passenger door as possible.
Brandon, the gun in his left hand, slid the key in the ignition and turned it. Ivy prayed the truck wouldn’t start, but it roared to life in an instant. Of course it did. Ryker loved this truck and took good care of it.
Brandon jerked the gear stick into reverse and steered down the driveway, using the rear view mirror. Hopelessness and helplessness settled heavily on Ivy. She was going to have to do something drastic…
“What the fuck is this shit?” Brandon muttered.
Ivy whipped her head around, trying to see what Brandon was talking about. Behind them, a white Cadillac roared into the driveway, cutting them off completely.
Brandon swore loudly and slammed the gear shift into park. He grabbed Ivy by the hair again and pulled her across the seat and out his door. Ivy’s hands flew to her head and she shrieked in pain. Not sure what was going on, she squeezed her eyes shut. When they’d stopped moving, Ivy opened her eyes again. Ryker stood next to the white Cadillac, his jaw clenched, his hands open in front of him.
Ryker! He’d found her. Ivy wanted to cry in relief. But she knew she wasn’t saved yet.
“Move away from the car, Ryker!” Brandon said, his voice hard.
“No.”
Brandon twisted his finger’s in Ivy’s hair and jabbed the gun against her waist. Ivy bit her lips to keep from crying out. “Do it or I’ll shoot her.”
Ryker took a step forward. “You shoot her, and I’ll tear you apart with my bare hands, I promise you that, Brandon. Let her go, and I’ll let you go. We’re done playing this game.” Ivy heard in Ryker’s voice that he meant every word he said. She looked sideways at Brandon to see if he believed it.
Brandon took a step backwards, edging past the open truck door, pulling Ivy with him. “Stay there, Ryker, I’m warning you.”
Ryker took another step. “Let her go, Brandon. I’m warning you.”
“God dammit!” Brandon swore, then pulled Ivy backwards with him quickly. Once they were behind the house, he pulled her quickly to the side and sprinted up the steps, ripping open the door. Tears shone in Ivy’s eyes from the pain in her head.
Brandon pulled her into the house, then slammed the door shut and locked it. He looked around wildly. Ivy saw panic in his eyes. He knew that this was it. It was him or Ryker. She felt a fierce satisfaction, knowing he was scared. He should be scared.
The doorknob rattled. Brandon swore again and pulled her deeper into the house by her hair. She tripped and hit her face on the door frame leading into the living room, starting her nose bleeding again. She heard him open a door, then move away from it. Her head swam dizzily and stars flashed in front of her eyes from the pain making it hard to discern where he was taking her. Bright lights made her think it was the kitchen but she couldn't be sure. All she could hear was her own blood whooshing in her ears and Brandon’s ragged breathing. He stopped and she held her hands to her face, trying desperately to soothe her eyes and get her vision back. Something heavy moved across the floor. Brandon moved her two more steps, then they were plunged into darkness.
Ivy blinked and opened her eyes, trying to figure out where they were. She couldn't see anything. It was as if she had gone blind.
“Keep your mouth shut or you die,” Brandon whispered to her. His hand released her hair and touched over her face, sending spears of pain through her head again, then he clamped the hand over her mouth. Ivy struggled to breathe through her swollen nose, flaring her nostrils as wide as possible and snuffling blood down her throat. Even while she was fighting for air, she tried to figure out where they were. The door that had opened had sounded like the front door, but they hadn’t gone down any steps, so they hadn’t gone outside. Had he opened the door to try to lure Ryker outside? And where exactly were they? A closet?
Ivy’s ears strained to hear a noise, anything that would indicate that Ryker was still coming for her. Minutes passed. She heard nothing but her own strained breathing. Panic started to set in on her again. What if Ryker were searching the street for her in vain? She couldn’t just sit here and wait. She had to do something, she had to act! Ivy tried to take in a large breath to maybe scream behind the hand holding her mouth, but a feeling flashed through her brain. She remembered how she felt when she threw Brandon’s keys and he went for his gun. She had been almost certain he was going to shoot her. Intense, crushing fear for her life had immobilized her for a moment. Was she really going to do that again?
Yes. She was. Ivy opened her mouth slightly and wriggled behind Brandon's hand. When she had a good angle she caught his fingers in her teeth and bit down as hard as she could, pulling her head back to tear flesh like an animal. Anger flashed through her again, driving out the fear, and lending her strength. Oh the satisfaction she felt as her teeth met bone.
Brandon screamed and lurched forward, his head rapping smartly on the wall in front of them. A crack of light appeared for a moment. The way out! Ivy struggled towards it, knowing this was her only chance.
Suddenly, the crack widened and a door ripped open in front of her. Bright light blinded her. A heavy hand brushed past her. Brandon’s body was wrenched over hers as Ryker pulled him bodily out of the tiny cellar door he had hidden them behind. Ryker grabbed Brandon’s wrist that was holding the gun. A gunshot boomed, deafening in the small space, and Ivy gasped, blinking her eyes madly to try to see if Ryker had been shot.
The gun was pointing harmlessly toward the wall. She scanned Ryker for blood and saw some on his arm, but not much. Ivy could see Brandon’s hand turning purple as Ryker squeezed the wrist with all of his considerable might. With his other hand, Ryker grabbed Brandon by the back of his neck and drove his entire body face-first into a wall. Ivy heard bones crunch and saw Brandon go limp. The gun tumbled out of his hand. Ryker pulled him back, and slammed him into the wall again, a kind of rumble coming out of his throat. Ryker pulled him back once more, preparing for a third face slam into the bloody wall. Ivy stumbled forward and grabbed Ryker’s arm, her face and voice pleading. “Ryker, stop. He’s done.”
Ryker looked down and with a grimace of disgust, dropped Brandon into a heap.
Chapter 18
Careful not to touch Brandon on the floor, Ivy threw her arms around Ryker, her relief so great it threatened to physically knock her over. Still watching Brandon, he hugged her tightly with one arm, squeezing the breath out of her. She buried her face in his chest, able to think of nothing for a few short moments. She reveled in his smell, his touch, the strength and solidness of him. And his goodness. Finally, she pulled away and really looked at him. “You’re bleeding, are you hurt?” she asked.
“I got scratched on a nail or something pulling him out of there.” He gestured behind her. “It’s nothing.”
Ivy turned to look where he had pointed. She saw only the table alcove and a long, white wall-hanging with a rainbow on it on the wall to the right side of the table. She grabbed Ryker’s non-injured arm. “Pulled us out of where?” she asked, breathless.
“Behind that thing,” he said, pointing again to the wall-hanging. “There’s a door behind it.”
“Oh,” Ivy breathed, feeling suddenly weak in the knees. “How did you even know it was there?”
“I didn’t, until he screamed. What happened?” Ivy held tighter onto Ryker’s arm. That’s what she’d thought. It was a perfect hiding place. Thoughts about what could have happened if Ryker hadn’t found them threatened to overwhelm her. She pushed them away and answered him.
“I bit him.”
“Good.” Ryker kicked the gun farther away from Brandon’s limp body, then gripped Ivy’s upper arms and pulled her close, peering into her face. “What did he do to you Ivy? Your nose. Your face.” His voice cracked on the last few words.
“I'm OK. He slammed my face into your truck. I think I blacked out, but not for very long.”
Ivy saw
anger cross Ryker’s handsome features. His throat worked but no words came out. Finally, he spoke. “I should fucking kill him,” Ryker spat out, turning towards Brandon, who still lay motionless on the floor, his face bloody and oddly squashed looking.
Desperation leaped in Ivy’s chest. “No Ryker, don’t touch him. You might already have killed him,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She pulled at Ryker, trying to get him to step back. Finally, he did, anger still written on his face.
“It’s over, Ryker. You stopped him. Now we just need to call him an ambulance. And the police. They’ll sort this out.”
“It’s not over. There’s so much more going on. And my mom. My sister. We still have to find them.”
“Oh!” Ivy jumped. Ryker still didn’t know! “Ryker, Agent Shaw, he said he couldn't get authorization to go to Mexico—” Ryker’s eyes flashed bright with anguish. Ivy spoke as quickly as she could, wanting him to know the rest of it as fast as possible. “— But I called Jen and she put me in touch with two other FBI agents - her brother’s friends - they flew to Mexico last night. I bet they’re back already with your mom and your sister!”
Now Ryker’s eyes flared with hope. Ivy whipped her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll call Jen. Maybe she’s heard some news. You call 911.”
“Yeah, and Hunter. The quicker he gets down here the better. No one else is going to believe me…”
Believe you? Ivy thought. But before she could ask what he meant she saw that she had missed calls and messages on her phone. One from Hawk Kincaid. She called the number back quickly. With one ear she listened to it ring and with the other she tried to hear what Ryker was telling the 911 operator. He never took his eyes off Brandon. Ivy eyed Brandon too, trying to see if he was breathing. She knew she shouldn't feel sorry for him, but she did. If he were still alive, his face would never be the same. Both cheekbones looked broken, his nose was lacerated and sitting almost sideways, and Ivy could see bloody stumps where his front teeth had been. Her pity didn’t extend far enough for her to get down on his level and check his pulse though. No way she was touching him. If he was dead there wasn’t a thing they could do for him anyway.
The phone clicked in her ear. “Kincaid.” a hard masculine voice said.
“Um, Mr.— I mean Agent Kincaid? This is Ivy Oakes. You, ah—”
Agent Kincaid cut her off, his voice suddenly friendly and light-hearted. “Ivy! We’ve been trying to call you. Is Ryker there with you?”
“Yes,” Ivy said, trying to subdue the elation that was building in her chest.
“Put him on, I’ve got someone here that wants to talk to him”
“OK.” Ivy bit her lip. Her eyes prickled hotly with tears of joy she tried to blink back. They’d done it. She pulled on Ryker’s elbow, stopping him in mid-sentence. “Ryker, you have to take this.”
“Hold on,” Ryker said into his phone. He put Ivy’s phone to his ear. “Hello?”
Ivy stood on tip-toes, pulling at Ryker’s arm, trying to hear too. Ryker stooped until she was level with him and she pressed her head right against his. A female voice came on the line, full of emotion. “Ry? You there?”
“Ma.” Ivy couldn't see his face, but she could hear the relief and softening in his voice.
“Ry, you saved us. I knew you would. I told that jerk. I told him he’d be sorry for ever touching us. I told him my son was a cop and he was going to find us.”
“Ma, where are you?”
“We’re at home, baby. The nice FBI team brought us here. They said they’d stay with us until you said it was OK.”
“And Roxy?”
“She’s here. She’s fine. We’re both fine.” Mrs. Well’s voice broke on the last word and she started crying. Ivy could hear her sobs loud and clear. She looked at Ryker. His face contorted in relief and emotion. He blinked his eyes rapidly.
“Don’t cry, Ma. I’ll come see you as soon as I can. Let me talk to the FBI guy.”
Ivy dropped down and let Ryker stand up completely to finish his conversation. She watched Brandon, who hadn’t moved yet, and plucked the phone out of Ryker’s other hand to finish his conversation with the 911 operator.
In the distance, she could hear the rise and fall of sirens.
***
An hour later, Ivy sat on the gurney of the second ambulance to come to the scene. Brandon had been scooped up and hauled away to the hospital with a police escort immediately, apparently still alive. Ivy had originally tried to refuse medical care, but when Assistant Police Chief Hunter Foley showed up to the scene he insisted that she be checked out at the hospital.
A paramedic was taking her blood pressure, leaving her free to watch Dawn’s house out the back door of the ambulance. Even though she was in pain, it was much better than watching from the back seat of a police car. Patrol officers, detectives, and people in plain clothes carrying various testing equipment zipped in and out of the house. Hunter and Ryker were standing just outside the door, huddled in a very intense conversation. Hunter took a notebook out of his pocket and handed it to Ryker. Ryker bent over it, drawing or writing something. Ivy’s eyebrows creased together. What was going on? What was Ryker telling Hunter? She hadn’t been able to talk to him at all after he hung up with Agent Kincaid. The police had arrived right away and separated them, questioning them intently.
The paramedic finished her blood pressure, pulled the back doors closed on the ambulance, and yelled to his partner to roll out. Ivy sat up on the stretcher as high as possible, watching Ryker and Hunter until the ambulance turned a corner. She slumped back onto the stretcher, feeling sad that neither man had even noticed she’d left. A trickle of unease wormed its way between her shoulder blades. Ryker had said it wasn’t over. They must be going to deal with the man with the explosives. Was Ryker still in danger?
Chapter 19
Ivy woke up all at once, her eyes still closed, confusion falling away quickly. She heard beeping, hushed voices, and doors slamming from far away. She was in the hospital. They’d admitted her for observation the night before, and once they’d gotten her in a bed, she’d fallen asleep almost immediately. Her nose was broken and she had a concussion. The doctor would be coming by today to tell her if she needed surgery.
Ivy sat up and swung her feet over the edge of the hospital bed. She felt better. Way better than the day before. Her head was clear and her ability to focus was back. But Ryker hadn’t been in to visit yet, and neither had Jen. No one had come to see her. A twinge of fear for Ryker tried to worm its way into her heart but she gritted her teeth against it. Her phone was dead or she’d try to call him. Maybe someone would let her use their phone. Right now, there was nothing she wanted more than to talk to Ryker.
She grabbed her IV pole and padded her way to the bathroom. When she was done with her morning necessaries she hesitantly approached the mirror. She’d glanced in a mirror the day before and had been horrified at what she’d seen. Her cheekbones and nose had both been horribly swollen and black marks had spread beneath her eyes. Her normally thin face had looked lumpy and inflated. Ivy locked eyes with herself and let out a small sigh. She looked much better today. Under her eyes was still black, but the swelling had gone down quite a bit overnight. She almost looked herself. She smoothed a hand through her black hair trying to get it to lay flat.
A knock on her door and a female voice surprised her. She thought it must be a nurse. “I’ll be right out,” she called. She gathered her IV pole and pulled her gown tight behind her for the walk back to the bed. She pushed the door open and was surprised not to find a nurse, but another patient. Officer Price.
Officer Price smiled at her. Ivy noticed at once how good she looked. Not at all like she had been shot just two days ago. She had on a brilliant-green, silk bathrobe that hung longer than the hospital gowns. Her dark hair was brushed to shining and lay over her shoulder like she were going to a club or perhaps on a date. Her dark, cat-like eyes flashed and Ivy noticed that they shone with what looked like ha
ppiness. She’s in the hospital recovering from a gunshot wound, what’s she so happy about? Ivy wondered.
“Ivy!” Officer Price called. She rushed to Ivy, pulling her own IV pole with one hand and leaning on a wooden cane with the other, then gave her a hug. “I heard you were here, and I just had to come down and see for myself. My doctor didn’t want me walking yet but I told him I’d check out against medical advice if he didn’t let me.” She made imaginary quotation marks in the air at the last two words and winked at Ivy.
Non-plussed, Ivy couldn’t think of a thing to say. Officer Price didn’t seem to mind at all. “Want to go back to your bed? I’ll help you.”
“No, I don’t need help!” Ivy said, rushing to her bed to prove it. Officer Price had to need more help than Ivy did. She’d been shot in the leg! Ivy sat on the edge of her bed and gave Officer Price a small smile. To her, the moment felt horribly awkward. Officer Price was acting like they were friends. Good friends.
Officer Price pulled up a lime-green chair and flipped it around to face Ivy. She hooked her cane over one of the arms, then knelt on the chair with one knee and stuck the other leg stiffly out behind her. Ivy saw a small wince of pain dampen her smile for only a moment.
“Since you’re here, I had to come down and say thank you. You saved my life,” she said simply.
“Oh, well. I guess so.”
“Yes Ivy, you did. I’ve read the report a dozen times. I opened the door to the house and stepped over the threshold expecting to see what I always see at Dawn’s place. Beer cans everywhere, people diving out the windows, and Dawn telling me to get out of her house. But instead I see Dawn pointing a gun at me and you about to tackle her. I never had a chance. The bullet hit me before I could even reach for my gun. She could have put five more bullets into me before Joe got there if you hadn’t hit her over the head.”
Joe? Ivy thought, confused for a second.