“I deleted the messages this morning,” Brian added. “I made Jack listen to them and then I erased the evidence.”
“You’re a good man,” Max said, clapping Brian on the shoulder. “As a good man, I expect you to make sure my sister isn’t crying when you leave.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Brian and Ivy watched Max leave, raising their hands to wave before returning to their conversation.
“I’m honestly okay, Brian,” Ivy said. “You don’t have to watch me. I’m an adult. I knew what I was getting into when I let my guard down with Jack. I won’t be making that mistake again. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Brian’s heart rolled. Ivy was one of the prettiest girls in town, but she closed herself off because people judged her because of her Bohemian lifestyle. Jack was the first man to pique her interest in years. If she shut down now … . “Ivy, I’m not telling you what to do, but you might not want to write Jack off just yet,” Brian said. “He still might pull himself together. Sure, it’s not going to happen right away because of what we found out, but … I still think it’s going to happen.”
“Well, I hope it works out for him and anyone he finds down the road,” Ivy said stubbornly. “I … wait, what did you find out?”
Brian explained about the ballistics report, going into minute detail so Ivy understood the ramifications. When he was done, she was flabbergasted.
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand either,” Brian said. “Whoever is doing this has a grudge against Jack. He’s the common denominator right now. It’s not you. I … he’s crushed because you were shot instead of him.”
“Oh, well, great,” Ivy said, hopping to her feet and kicking one of the paver bricks that sectioned off her garden from encroaching weeds. “He dumps me in the dirt and still manages to be the wounded party.”
Brian clucked sympathetically. “He is wounded. You are, too. Just … give it some time before you completely cut ties with him. He’s going to be a bear for the next twenty-four hours. Then I think he’s going to fall apart due to losing you.”
“It’s too late.”
Brian recognized the obstinate tilt of her chin, and yet he still had his doubts. “I don’t think it’s too late. You’re entitled to your anger, though. Just be careful. If someone is going after Jack, you’re going to look like an attractive way to hurt him.”
“That’s not true. If that were the case he’d be here to protect me. I don’t see him. I don’t think I’m going to be seeing him anytime soon. Thank you for telling me, though. I’ll be extra careful until this is settled.”
“You do that.”
TWO HOURS later Ivy’s frustration was still mounting and she had no idea why. She’d decided to push all thoughts of Jack out of her mind – just like he’d pushed all thoughts of her out of his head when he walked out of her life – and yet all she could do was dwell on what Brian told her.
This had to be killing Jack. She wasn’t going to kid herself into believing any of his pain was because of her, but the rest of it had to be plaguing his soul.
Ivy lifted her head when she felt … something. She couldn’t put a name to it, but if she didn’t know better she would swear someone was watching her. She shifted, studying the tree line in three directions, and found nothing.
She shook her head and tried to return to her work, but after a few minutes she realized it was impossible. She couldn’t get Jack out of her head and she was done gardening for the day.
Instead of going back inside, Ivy dropped her gardening gloves on the front porch and moved around her tiny cottage. It was her childhood home, her parents selling it to her so she could be close to the nursery when she opened it, and it was her favorite place on earth. She would find no solace in there today, though. No, if she wanted mental respite she had to find it someplace else.
Ivy headed into the woods behind her home, pointing herself in the opposite direction of the nursery and trudging into the heavy foliage. Normally she would go to her fairy ring when she was upset. That was the first place anyone would look for her, though. Today she was going someplace else. Today she was going to wallow in a place where she knew she wouldn’t be interrupted. Today she was going to find peace if it killed her.
Now she just had to figure out how to do it.
Eight
Ivy picked her way through the dense underbrush, being careful to stop and listen to the woods around her a few times to make sure no one was following her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was out there – although she didn’t feel like she was in danger.
She’d been visiting Duskin Lake for as long as she could remember. In truth, the body of water was barely a lake. It was more of a glorified pond than anything else. Still, Ivy didn’t want to be bothered. She wanted a place where she could feel sorry for herself that was away from prying eyes – and more importantly, pity.
In truth, Max would be able to find Ivy at the lake when he checked her fairy ring and found it empty. Ivy wasn’t worried about upsetting anyone else. She needed space from her well-meaning family. She needed time alone to … cry.
Ivy hated admitting it to herself, but that was what she really wanted to do. She felt like the world’s biggest pathetic mess when she started sobbing the previous evening – and again this morning – and while she knew Max didn’t hold either crying jag against her, she couldn’t help feeling ashamed for falling apart.
She was Ivy Morgan, after all. She built a reputation on being strong and needing no one. So why did Jack’s abandonment – something she told herself he was going to do from the beginning – hurt so much?
Ivy was so lost in thought she didn’t initially notice the quiet figure sitting on a fallen log next to the lake. When he shifted, the familiar muscular frame tensing at the sight of her, Ivy’s heart fell.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Jack frowned. “What are you doing here?” He pushed himself to his feet, running a hand through his dark hair as he regarded her with red-rimmed eyes. “You should be in bed.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”
Jack’s expression softened, although he was wary. “I’m sorry for leaving the hospital the way I did yesterday. I … .”
“It doesn’t matter.” Ivy cut him off. She didn’t want to hear lame excuses about how he had a job to do and that came first. She didn’t want to hear how he’d changed his mind. “I knew it would happen. It’s … exactly what I expected.”
“Don’t say that,” Jack said, his voice soft. “Please don’t say that.”
“What do you want me to say, Jack?” Ivy rested her hands on her hips and fixed her icy blue eyes on him. Jack already missed the hint of warmth and flirtatious energy he usually found there. “You kissed me on the forehead and said you were going to get some air. That was the last time I saw you. You walked out of the hospital and out of my life. I get it. Just … whatever.”
Ivy’s eyes filled with tears and she hated herself for it. She loathed showing weakness, and that was exactly what she was doing.
“Ivy … .” Jack was miserable.
“What are you even doing out here?” Ivy asked, impatiently brushing away a falling tear. “Why would you come out here?”
“You mentioned there was a lake behind your house,” Jack explained. “I needed a place to think where no one else would be hanging around. I … some stuff has happened … and I like being by water. It helps me clear my mind.”
“There are three other lakes within driving distance,” Ivy snapped. “Pick one of those places to … clear your mind. This is my lake.”
“Why are you out here?” Jack prodded. “You should be resting. I … you shouldn’t be wandering around after you were … hurt.”
“Oh, you mean after I was shot?” Ivy relished the quick flicker of pain on Jack’s face when she said the words. “Well, as you may or may not know – I’m going with the assumption that
you don’t know since you walked out of the hospital without even saying goodbye – I’m actually fine,” she said. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I didn’t say you needed a babysitter. I … .”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work? Aren’t you supposed to be keeping the good people of Shadow Lake safe from the bad guys? Aren’t you supposed to be doing the one thing you claimed you came to this town to do?”
Jack exhaled heavily. She was so angry he could practically feel it wafting off of her from ten feet away. He welcomed the anger and he basked in the hatred. He deserved it. What he didn’t want to see was the underlying current of emotional pain that was fueling that anger.
“Honey, I’m so sorry,” Jack said, fighting his own batch of tears.
“Don’t call me that,” Ivy hissed. “Don’t … ever … .”
“I’m sorry,” Jack repeated, holding up his hands. “I didn’t mean to hurt you this way.”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” Ivy said, another tear cascading down her cheek. “I’m sure you had the best of intentions. You didn’t mean to throw me away. I get it. Just … let it go and leave my lake.”
Jack took a step toward her, hating the way she shrank away from him. “I can’t just leave you out here,” he said. “We need to have a talk.”
“I don’t want to talk about it! I don’t want to listen to you rationalize why you had to do this. I get it!”
Jack licked his lips, tugging on his fleeing patience. She was stubborn. It drove him crazy. It made his blood pressure spike and his anger flare. He could not yell at a woman with a gunshot wound, though. Even he drew the line at that. “You don’t get anything,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “You’re just saying what you want to say right now.
“I know I deserve it,” he continued. “I know what I did was … unforgivable. That doesn’t change the fact that we have to talk about a few things.”
“No.”
Jack pursed his lips to keep himself from saying something hateful.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” Ivy said, her eyes completely dry for the first time in a full day. “I don’t want to listen to an apology. I don’t want to hear cop talk about the shooting. I don’t want to … know you.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Oh, I mean it,” Ivy seethed. “I can’t even stand the sight of you. I wish I’d never met you.”
Jack stalked toward her, ignoring the distressed look on her face as he closed the distance. “I’m not playing this game with you,” he argued. “We’re going to talk and … well … you’re going to shut up and listen to what I have to say.” He reached for her shoulders, realizing at the last second that he couldn’t hold her in place that way because of her wound and shifting his hands so they grabbed onto her hips. “Now … .”
Ivy lashed out, smacking him across the face as hard as she could and taking him by surprise. “Don’t touch me!”
Jack released her hips and rubbed his chin, impressed with the force she managed to put behind the slap until he saw her grimace of pain. She’d used her injured shoulder to give the slap some oomph. “Are you okay?”
“I just slapped you,” Ivy replied. “I … how can you even ask me if I’m okay?”
“Because I deserved to be slapped.”
“You deserve to be run over by a car and then backed over again,” Ivy countered. “You’re lucky I don’t have a vehicle with me.”
Jack fought the urge to smile, knowing it was the exact worst thing he could do, but the situation was so surreal he couldn’t fight the expression. Twenty-four hours earlier they were having the time of their lives on a picnic blanket. He could touch her without reservation. Now she was right in front of him and yet she still felt miles away.
“This is not funny!” Ivy went to place her hands on her hips and groaned, instead reaching for her bad shoulder. “Are you happy? Now my arm really is going to fall off.”
Jack sobered. “I’m not happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been this unhappy.”
“Whatever,” Ivy said, rolling her eyes and refusing to fall for his act. “You know what? You can have the lake. I’m going home.” She turned and flounced back in the opposite direction, her hand resting protectively over her shoulder.
Jack immediately fell into step behind her, keeping two feet between them, but refusing to let her wander off on her own.
Ivy ignored the sound of his footsteps for as long as she could, but after a few minutes she swiveled and fixed him with a murderous look. “Why are you following me?”
“Because we have to talk.” It was easier for Jack to keep his temper in check this time. Her pain put everything in perspective. “I’m going to walk you back to your house, check your shoulder, tell you what I have to tell you and then … .” And then what? Would he really be able to walk away again?
“And then you’ll go,” Ivy finished for him. “Great. This sounds exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon. I think I must be the luckiest woman in the world.”
Jack didn’t know about lucky – although that bullet might have killed her if she hadn’t bent over exactly when she did – but he was convinced she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Start moving, Ivy,” Jack said quietly. “It looks like it’s going to storm.”
“Oh, bite me.”
“WHAT did the doctor say about giving you pain killers?” Jack asked, his fingers gentle as they prodded the bandage over her wound as she sat in a kitchen chair and allowed him to tend her wound. “Hold still while I take this off. I don’t want to hurt you.”
After the longest twenty-minute hike of his life, Jack followed Ivy into her cottage – despite the fact that she tried to shut the door in his face – and patiently set about checking her shoulder. He was done yelling at her. Well, at least for now.
“You’ve already hurt me.” Ivy was petulant.
“I know I have,” Jack said softly. “You’ll never know how sorry I am for causing you one moment of pain.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“I … panicked.”
Ivy stilled, her expression thoughtful as she studied his intent face. He didn’t meet her gaze, afraid he would fall into those eyes and never find his way back out. Instead, he pulled the bandage off and frowned at the angry wound.
In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a bad wound. It was nothing compared to the mess left on his chest after Marcus shot him. The sight of the marred and angry flesh caused his heart to constrict all the same. This was his fault.
“Everyone panics, Jack,” Ivy said. “It’s what you do after that’s important.”
“And I let you down.”
“I think you let yourself down,” Ivy replied. “Just slap a new bandage on that and say what you have to say.”
Jack licked his lips. “I’m the reason you were shot.” It took everything he had to admit it, and he waited for her to slap him again before risking a look at her annoyed face. “It’s my fault.”
“You’re just … an idiot!”
Jack was taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“It’s not your fault, Jack. You didn’t shoot me.”
“The gun used to kill Mark Dalton … the gun used to shoot you … is my old partner’s weapon,” Jack said, his voice wavering. “Someone went after you because of me.”
“And you put yourself in danger to save me from Heath and Gil Thorpe,” Ivy reminded him. “If you died in either of those instances, would that have been my fault?”
“Of course not. That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because … .” Jack was at a loss for how to answer.
“Because I’m a girl?” Ivy pressed. “Because you’re a big, strong cop and I’m a weak girl? Is that it?”
“Oh, don’t play that game,” Jack snapped, affixing a new bandage to Ivy’s shoulder and taping it in place as he tried to control his racing heart. “You’re stronger than anyone I know. That was m
y job, though.”
“Oh.” Ivy’s eyes flashed. “Are you saying you only did what you did because it was your job? And here I thought it was because you cared about me. I’m such a moron.”
“I do care about you,” Jack hissed. “You have no idea how much I care. I just … I did this to you. Don’t you understand that?”
“No,” Ivy replied, fumbling with the top of her pain medication bottle and then popping two capsules into her mouth. She grabbed the half-empty bottle of water on the table and downed the medication under Jack’s watchful eye. “You didn’t do this to me, Jack. This was done to both of us. The difference is, I’m not the type of person to throw everything away because I’m afraid.”
Ivy got to her feet and pushed past him. “I’m sure you know the way out.”
“What are you doing?” Jack asked. “We’re not done talking yet.”
“Oh, yes we are,” Ivy said, moving down the hallway and toward her bedroom. “Those were the pills that knock me out. I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m exhausted. I … hurt. I can’t deal with you making excuses. I’m tired.”
Jack frowned as he followed her, hating that he couldn’t stop watching as she unsnapped her pants and let them fall to the floor, revealing a pair of black panties that caused his heart to speed up. “I … .”
“Go and do what you want to do, Jack,” Ivy mumbled, climbing under the covers. “Do what’s right for you. You don’t care about what’s right for me. You’ve made that obvious.”
“That is not true. Stop saying that.” Jack was flustered. “I … we’re not done talking, Ivy. You’re in danger.”
“I’m done talking,” Ivy said, her eyes heavy as she closed them. “I just want my heart to stop hurting.”
Jack fought back tears at the words even as he worked to tamp down his irritation. He moved to Ivy’s side. “We need to finish this conversation.”
Ivy didn’t answer, her breathing already steady as she slipped off into dreamland.
Wicked Times (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 3) Page 6