Recovering Ivy

by Riley Edwards

  “I want to nail the son-of-a-bitch for preying on the weak and killing Joanna. But the longer he’s free to move around, there’s a chance he’ll run or go to ground completely and we’ll lose him altogether. This isn’t the Middle East where I have more latitude to maneuver. There are laws. While I can bend them, there is only so far before they break. Now there’s the added complication of your mother.”

  “Have you found her?”

  “No. She’s a ghost. She left Forester’s house and we haven’t been able to track her since. I don’t have cameras on his street, an oversight on my part that has been rectified.”

  It sounded like he was spending more money and using resources that could be better spent somewhere else. Like for his paying clients.

  “Maybe she went home to Florida. Listen, I appreciate all you’ve done and what you’re willing to do, but maybe you should just hand him over to the DEA. I don’t want to take time away from your clients that pay the bills. I saw today how many hours the team has put into Forester. Now that Techwatch isn’t paying, you should turn him in. He’ll have to answer to the corporate charges and for the drugs. That’s something, right?”

  “Do not start, Ivy,” he warned.

  “I’m not. Just… something is better than nothing. I don’t want to cost you…”

  “Woman!”

  “Woman?” I huffed. “Don’t woman me, Zane. I’m being realistic here. You’re running a business, not a charity.”

  “Charity? What the fuck?”

  What was his problem now? It seemed I pissed the man off more than I did anything else.

  “An investigation into Joey’s death is going to cost a mint. I don’t want those resources used when you have a long list of people willing to pay you large amounts of money to work for them. It’s stupid. I know he killed her; that should be enough for me. The fact the DEA is going to find drugs will put him behind bars. That’s all I wanted - him in prison.”

  “No, it’s not,” Zane said and stood. “You didn’t want him in prison. You wanted him to pay for taking your sister’s life. And that is exactly what’s going to happen.”

  I wanted to disagree and yell at him for once again telling me how I felt, but he was right. I wanted Forester to pay for killing Joey.

  “Come on. We have to stop by the grocery store before we go home,” he said.

  Home.

  He had called his penthouse home with regard to the two of us going there multiple times. Each time he said it, I got butterflies in my stomach. It meant nothing, it was a turn of phrase, but stupidly I liked hearing it. I’d never really had a home. When I was younger, we moved a lot. When the eviction notice inevitably came, we’d leave and find another shithole place to stay awhile before it started all over again. I’ve never known stability and permanency. Hell, even when I left my mother’s house I still moved around; I’d never felt settled anywhere – until Zane. I felt protected and relaxed in his home. Maybe it was because it was high above the city. I was untouchable way up there. Maybe it was because I knew he was there and he’d never allow anything to breach his walls. Maybe I was simply fooling myself into believing I was feeling things I wasn’t.

  “You ready?” He brought my attention back to him.

  “Yeah. Did you tell Linc we were passing on his dinner invitation?”

  “I did,” he confirmed.

  “Did you tell him nicely?” Zane lifted one perfect eyebrow in answer. “Right.” I laughed and grabbed my purse and followed him to the door.

  He called out his goodbyes and by the time we’d reached his car I’d come to my senses. I was behaving like a woman who had something to offer a man; one that had the luxury of frivolous dreams and hopes. I wasn’t that woman and Zane was too good for me. Sex and protection was what was on the table. That was all I could afford. I’d take it until Zane got tired of the game he was playing, then I’d move on.

  I always did.

  We were loading up the back of Zane’s Range Rover after a grocery shopping experience I never wanted to repeat when Zane pushed me between the open back hatch of the truck and his body. I was already irritated after the lectures I’d received anytime I placed something unhealthy into the cart. Now he was manhandling me, and I wasn’t happy.

  “Stop doing that,” I complained and tried to maneuver away from him.

  “Ivy.” I heard the raspy voice of a woman who’d smoked too much over her life. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Not now. Please, Lord above, not in front of Zane.

  “Mother.” I turned in Zane’s arms to face the woman who’d given birth to me but not much more. “Now’s not a good time. May we speak later?”

  “May we speak later,” she mocked. “There you go, always trying to be too big for your britches, like you’re some smart girl better than everyone else.”

  I felt Zane move and grabbed his forearm to stop him. If Sarah wanted to have it out with me in the parking lot of the grocery store, it was better to let her do it. Trying to make her leave would only cause a bigger scene.

  “Well, you found me. What do you need?” I asked.

  “I need you to take your nosey ass and leave Forester alone. You’ve gone too far getting your new rich boyfriend involved.”

  “Forester? Why were you at Forester’s house? You need to stay away from him. He’s bad news, mom. He killed Joey.”

  “He didn’t kill her. She got greedy and started using more than she ought to have. You know Joey, she could never get enough.”

  “What?”

  “Listen, Ivy, you’ve always had a stick up your ass ruining every good thing that came my way. Always talking stupid shit about calling CPS or the fucking police. But I’m not gonna let you take this from me. I can’t have you fuck this up. So mind your own business for once and butt the fuck out.”

  “Fuck what up?” Zane asked, his lip curling in disgust.

  “None of your goddamned business either. I’m sure Ivy’s given up the pussy enough to convince you she’s not the trash she really is. Looking at you with your fancy car and nice clothes, you probably think you can wash the stink off my daughter, but you can’t. Once you get bored, you’ll throw her away. She can’t afford a man like you. Men like you are nothing more than a meal ticket for whores like us.”

  It was one thing to disrespect me; it was something else entirely for her to spit her venom at Zane. He was a good man and didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that.

  “That’s enough. You can call me whatever you want. But do not speak to him like that.”

  “Silly girl. You’ve learned nothing. Always living with your head in the clouds. He doesn’t give a shit what I say to him or what I think of him because he knows that we’re trash, and when he walks away from you, he won’t even remember this conversation except to be happy he scraped you off. I don’t care who you fuck or what you do, never really have. But if you keep poking your nose in shit that’s not your concern, you’ll end up like Joey. Dead.”

  “You’re done,” Zane demanded.

  “Fuck off. I’m talking to my daughter,” Sarah, never to be outdone, shouted.

  “The hell you are. You’re speaking to my woman. And the only reason I let it go on this long is because I wanted to see what role you play in Forester’s operation. I see you’re neck deep in it. So, I’ll give you a message to pass along. Tell Forester he’s fucked. And word of advice, to both of you, either of you even breathe in Ivy’s direction again I’ll kill you.”

  “You’re threatening me?” Sarah asked.

  “Goddamn right I am. Woman, you’re jacked. I don’t know what happened to you in your miserable life to make you so goddamn fucked up, but you are so jealous of your daughter’s beauty you can’t see straight. She, by some miracle, has everything you wish you had. You see her and call her trash because you cannot live with the knowledge she escaped you. There was nothing more you could’ve done to her and you still couldn’t break her. You can’t stand she’s strong and y
ou’re nothing more than a sad, weak, piece of shit. You said you didn’t care what Ivy did with her life. Perfect. Check this, bitch, she no longer exists for you. The next time I see you, it will be to put a bullet in your head. We clear?”

  “You’re joking!”

  “Do I look like I’m joking?”

  “You threatened to kill me.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first and you won’t be the last. What you will be is six feet under if you look at Ivy again.”

  “You’re gonna let him speak to your mama that way?” Sarah asked me.

  I admit, I was struggling the tiniest bit with Zane threatening to shoot my mother in the head. I was more than a little afraid he was serious. But then I remembered.

  “You remember when you let Lance smack me around because I flushed a baggy of cocaine down the toilet? You remember after I pulled Joey out of a dealer’s house and he came banging on the front door and you let him into my room when he said he was getting his money’s worth and was going to rape me? And my personal favorite, the time you needed money and you were too fucked up to leave the house and you asked me to take a couple of Johns for you?”

  “What does that have to do with anything? You are always bringing up the past like it matters.”

  “It matters, and it has everything to do with everything. I’ve tried to help you. I’ve tried to get you clean. I tried with Joey. I’ve tried so many fucking times I can’t count. I’m done. Leave me alone. You’ve hated me my whole life. All I’ve ever done was try to love you. You’ve done this to yourself. I can’t protect you from Zane and if I could, I still wouldn’t.”

  “You’re an ungrateful bitch. I’ve kept Forester away from you. You’re the one he wanted but I gave him Joey instead. She was stronger than you. She could take it. Now, I wish I would’ve let him take both of you. At least you would’ve learned your place.”

  Before I could ask her what she meant, she was walking away. Zane had his phone out and was speaking but I couldn’t hear a thing he was saying over the words I was replaying in my mind.

  You’re the one he wanted.

  17

  Zane

  Mine.

  Ivy was mine. Mine to protect. Mine to avenge. Mine to keep.

  All day I’d been wrestling with my emotions, not something I was use to. I liked my life neat and orderly. The only emotion I was comfortable with was anger, and the only things I allowed myself to feel daily was guilt and determination. I knew I should let Ivy go. I should walk away now and save her, but I wouldn’t. I would set a course and not deviate from it until I owned her. I would accept nothing less.

  A war had been raging inside my head and in that moment the battle had been won. I knew what I needed to do. I knew it was going to be a long, hard road paved with landmines and more emotional baggage than I was equipped to handle, but I’d figure it out. The promise of what Ivy had to offer would be my guide. I wouldn’t fail her. The broken and battered woman standing in front of me was meant to be mine. I felt it to my core. She was stronger than I could ever have imagined. I’d spent five minutes in the presence of the venomous snake that was Ivy’s mother and I wanted to commit murder. Knowing Ivy had spent a lifetime hearing what I just heard was a hard pill to swallow. No one deserved that. No child should have to grow up seeing what Ivy had seen.

  The shock of her mother’s visit had not worn off when I helped Ivy into the passenger seat. She didn’t speak on the drive home. She remained pulled into herself when I guided her into the house and sat her on the couch. Her knees came up to her chest, her tiny feet rested on the edge of the couch, and she hugged her legs tightly.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so embarrassed you witnessed that.”

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” I told her.

  “That was her going easy on me.”

  “Jesus. Fuck. Baby, I’m so sorry.”

  “My whole life she’s been telling me I’m trash. My whole life I spent trying to prove her wrong, show her I’m not what she thinks I am. I’ve been trying to prove to myself I can be something different, something better. But what if she’s right? What if the filth and stink can’t wash off? I’m her daughter after all. What if what she has in her is in me, too? I’m so tired of fighting it.”

  Hell fucking no was that bitch going to beat Ivy down any more than she already had.

  “You’re not fighting anything. There is nothing to fight because you are nothing like her. Nothing, Ivy. No part of you is even remotely close to her. You are beautiful and strong. The woman I met today is weak. She didn’t have it in her to beat back whatever demons plagued her life. She is vindictive and envious. Baby, stop fighting and start living. You are just you.”

  “I can’t unlearn what she’s taught me, Zane.”

  “Yes, you will, and I won’t stop until you forget every last nasty word she’s ever said to you, every fucked-up lesson she shoved at you. Sarah Long will be a forgotten memory.”

  “How do you forget?” she asked.

  At her question, I felt my breath leave my lungs and struggled for oxygen. I understood her question, but I didn’t understand why she was asking. No one had ever flat out asked me that. My brother was the only person with balls enough to dance around the topic. Everyone else gave me the respect I’d earned and left my personal life off the table. But if I was going to claim Ivy, I had to try. Opening myself up was not easy, it wasn’t something I ever wanted to do, it wasn’t something I’d ever thought I would do. Not even with Linc.

  “I don’t,” I answered.

  Most of the men I’d been in combat with had learned how to compartmentalize. They learned to place different tragedies, different memories, different emotions into boxes and lock them away, never to revisit them. I couldn’t. I didn’t get to indulge in forgetting. I had people’s lives in my hands. I couldn’t ever forget the mistakes I had made, or the lives that had been lost because of me.

  “Because you feel responsible?”

  “Because I am responsible. Every part of a mission comes back to me.”

  “Isn’t that a little egotistical? You can’t control everything.”

  “There is no ego in combat. And I have to be in control, of everything, at all times. If I’m not, people get hurt, my men die. I don’t get to pretend it was fate, or bad timing, or bad intel. Every black mark on my soul is because I failed. I failed my men, I failed the mission, I failed my country. Every scar and mark I wear serves as a reminder that I’m inadequate.” I paused, needing a moment after my admission. “You’ve seen my scars, Ivy. Plain as day you can see my failures etched across my skin. I’ve never tried to hide them from you. My hands are dirty; I’ve taken lives and will not stop. It’s a part of my job; it’s a part of who I am. I’ll try my hardest not to bring it home to you, but I can’t promise you I’ll succeed. I may be a dick most of the time, but I’m not a liar and I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you mean by bring it home.”

  I was fucking this up. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I sounded like a love-sick teenager whose balls hadn’t dropped yet. I didn’t do hearts and flowers and puppy dogs. I didn’t know how to explain to her what I wanted. I wasn’t this man, the type that stumbled over his words.

  Fuck.

  Spit it out, Lewis.

  “I’ve never done this,” I admitted.

  “Done what?”

  “This. You and me. Us. What we’ve been doing. I don’t allow people into my world. I’ve never had breakfast with a woman. I’ve never spent multiple nights with a woman. I’ve never talked to a woman about anything remotely personal. We fuck, she leaves, or I leave, but one of us always goes. I don’t even offer coffee in the morning. It gives the wrong impression. It invites conversation, conversation I don’t want to have.”

  “Ouch.”

  “That’s me, Ivy. I’m a prick. I live by strict rules. Those rules are in place to protect myself and
others.”

  “So you want me to leave?” Her expression had changed from confused to hurt. I was still fucking this up.

  “No. I want you to stay.” I needed a drink. No, not a drink, I needed a new set of balls apparently, since I’d lost mine somewhere. “I’m fucking this up. I tried to keep my distance, but I can’t. I cannot for the life of me get you out of my head. It started the morning I woke up and you’d snuck out. I was pissed at you, pissed I didn’t know your last name to track you down, pissed at the universe for giving me something so damn sweet then yanking it away. I couldn’t stop thinking about you; I still can’t. You can be in the next room and I hate it. I want you next to me. What I’m saying is, whether you like it or not, I’m not letting you go.”

  “Do I have a say?” She smiled.

  “No. You’re mine. I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.”

  “Well… if I don’t have a choice…”

  “You have a choice. But not a say.”

  “That makes no sense, Zane.”

  “Sure it does. I get the say, and you get the choice of how difficult you’re going to be before you come around to my way of thinking.”

  “I’m not sure I like how bossy you are,” she huffed.

  “You’ll learn to love it,” I assured her.

  “Don’t think I will. You may want to reconsider everything you said. I don’t take kindly to being pushed around.”

  I sat on the couch next to her, unwrapped her arms from around her legs, and pulled her over me until she was straddling my lap. She muttered her annoyance but made no attempt to pull away. When she was settled where I wanted her, I brought both my hands to her face and held her gaze.

  “I will never push you around. I may be bossy, but I am not an abusive prick. You will learn to love me being in control because it means you’ll be free to be anything you want to be, secure in the knowledge I will keep you safe. I will never ask something of you to be a dick or for some fucked up power trip. I want nothing more than you to be happy and safe. I can’t control everything, but what I can, I do. I can’t explain to you why I need it, but I do. As Jasmin says, I get cranky when I’m not in absolute control.”