Pursue (Portland Street Kings Book 4)

by Evie Harper

  “I know the facts. Gunshots were heard, followed by a large crash that was a black SUV hitting me head-on and then driving away. The SUV was found, and the driver died in a midair plane explosion.” I shrug. “Karma works and the world is good again.”

  Kelso’s face hardens, and he narrows his eyes, both brown irises ordering me to stop fooling around.

  Scooting forward on the sofa, I throw my right hand out. “Yes, I figured out the shots probably came from your house and had something to do with your family. Becca got in touch with Benny and confirmed you guys were all okay. It’s all I needed to know.”

  “No,” Kelso says in a firm tone. “That’s not all you need to know, I should have told you about Lucini. I fucking should have told you Della was in deep with the Mafia and I wasn’t a safe person to be around. You can’t accept this shit, Ivy, you deserve better.”

  “Then stop wrapping me up in cotton wool, Kelso. You tell me just enough to appear open, but not so much you think I might run. Our honeymoon phase is over and I’m not going anywhere. You’ve told me about your past, now let me into your present, because I’m in this for the long haul.”

  Kelso’s arms fall to his sides and his mouth drops open.

  An awkward laugh falls from my lips. “Don’t look so surprised.”

  Kelso exhales heavily. “I was too afraid to hope.”

  Vulnerability beats at the core of the moment and my soul aches for Kelso, for the insecurity and fear he need not feel. He has no idea how I see him, how I adore him.

  Kelso sits beside me and cups my cheek. “My fears can’t change what my heart already knows.”

  A flicker of electricity ignites between us, and Kelso pulls me toward him by my hips. Our mouths touch, softly at first; our lips touch once, then a second time. Impatience surges through me and I grasp Kelso’s shirt with force and show him what I want. Kelso doesn’t waste a second, he pushes his lips harder against mine and his grip on my hips becomes tighter. Our breaths grow fast and tingles shoot through my body as Kelso seductively slides his tongue along my bottom lip. I crave more. I want all of him.

  I attempt to crawl into his lap, and we both falter. Me, for forgetting about the massive weight of plaster on my leg, and Kelso slowing us down for a whole other reason, one I’m all too familiar with.

  He chuckles. “Damn, Ivy, you make it impossible for a man to take things slow.”

  Backing away and falling onto the sofa, I let out a heavy sigh. One I know I will regret, because it’s not fair for me to push Kelso on this.

  “Ivy.” Kelso’s voice is soft and a nervous smile graces his face. “We both agreed waiting would be for the best.”

  Guilt slams into my chest as it grows tight, and a thickness builds in the back of my throat. Sitting up and nodding, I take Kelso’s hand, needing to reassure him. “I know. We did, I’m sorry.” Raising my chin, I stare into Kelso’s eyes. “I’m ready, I want to be with you in every way.” My body feels as if it’s burning from the inside out. I crave to see Kelso’s naked body. My fingers itch to touch the crevices in his abs and the deep V that peeks out from his sweatpants after his morning run. I’m desperate for Kelso to touch every inch of my skin and for it to be him who fills me and causes my lungs to burn as an orgasm rips through me.

  Kelso’s throat bobs as he swallows roughly. “No rush, baby. We have forever.” His sweet words crack my heart wide open. He stands. “I’ll find you some clothes, grab one of your plastic outdoor chairs and start you a shower. Be back in a few.”

  I nod and rest on the lounge, watching him walk out of the room, out of this discussion. I trust Kelso’s words and believe he thinks we’ll be together forever. But the closer we’ve become, the more I’ve realized Kelso isn’t scared of our relationship… he’s afraid of the intimacy of it.

  Neither of us are virgins, however, Kelso is definitely more experienced than me, if I’m to believe the gossip. The things I’ve heard; Kelso tying women up, not allowing them to touch him. He’s been described as a dominant asshole who only wants one thing and then casts women aside like garage.

  I exhale heavily. Sounds like the broken man I’m falling head over heels for, thinking no one would want him and that he’s doing them a favor by walking away first. His past still has a stranglehold on the here and now.

  When I first met Kelso, it was easy to see something had him twisted up inside. He appeared strong and bold, yet the lost look in his eyes showed me a different story, one where he might decide living wasn’t worth it anymore. An invisible torment tore him limb from limb while he wore a smile on his face.

  Two months into seeing each other, Kelso told me about his childhood. The god-awful abuse. He made me promise not to tell a soul, and I gave him my word. I never would. Learning so much about each other, the good and bad, created a deeper connection between us. Something intense grew, and Kelso came out of his shell, little by little each day.

  I’m in awe of his family. None of them are blood related, yet they offer each other no limits on love and security, and no judgements. Kelso’s lucky to have such a strong foundation to fall back on when he needs it. I wish I could say the same about my own.

  When my mom was alive, I had a wonderful family. My mother was the glue that held us all together. She organized the holidays with extended family. She made birthdays a big deal. Christmas decorations always went up in November because my mom loved that time of year and wanted it to last as long as possible. My dad always helped. He’d smile at my mom often, even when she wasn’t looking. Family gatherings were her favorite; we were everything to my mom.

  When my mom passed away, my dad changed. He grew angry and reserved. After a while, I understood his behavior was normal, he’d lost his wife. However, my dad didn’t grieve and get better, he got worse. He grew snappy with me. Nothing I said or did was right. He became judgmental, and not the father I grew up with. Even being a cop and seeing the worst of the worst, he always taught me to judge people on their actions and not where they came from.

  Our first Christmas without my mom, I did everything myself. The decorations, the food, and buying gifts. My dad woke up Christmas morning and didn’t say a word as he walked past me, the tree, and out the front door. I didn’t expect a joyous day, but it was a time we should have spent together, remembering Mom and everything she did for us. We should have sat and talked about her and cried together. Instead I waited alone in my childhood home, surrounded by memories and pictures, for my father to return. I cried. I laughed. I screamed, and I whispered to my mom. At eleven o’clock at night I decided it was time to give up. I left the food on the table, locked the front door, and drove to my empty house. Because my best friend was with her family, those who stuck by her through thick and thin.

  I realized then that my father wasn’t the same man I grew up admiring. He’d changed, his world altered and destroyed when my mother died. I’ll never blame him for dying on me too. I’ll do what my mother would have wanted me to do, stick by him, even when he’s an overbearing asshole. He’ll always be my father. I’ll love him and continue to try to mend our family, however, something I’ll never compromise on is my relationship with Kelso. My father assumes he isn’t good enough for me. If he would only take the time to get to know Kelso and his family, my dad would learn they protect each other as fiercely as my father does me, even if it is only from a distance.

  Footsteps grab my attention and I watch as Becca jumps onto the sofa and hugs me. “Gosh, I missed you. I hate living alone. Every creak and groan sent my heart through my chest.”

  I let out a small giggle. When we’ve settled down, I nudge her with my shoulder and say in a serious tone, “You went to see Kelso?”

  Becca shrugs. “I know you told me not to, but you were hurting. No one treats my best friend that way, and finding out all of this is because of your dad does not surprise me at all.”

  Groaning, I dig deeper into the sofa, not wanting to deal with the mess my life is in. “I know. Trust me
, I’ll be having a conversation with my father and I’ll make him understand what he did was wrong.”

  Becca’s nose scrunches up. “Wrong? It was cruel. He hurt you and he hurt Kelso. You may not see it now, but when I went to see Kelso, when he first saw me, his face turned pale. As if I was bringing him news of a death. I swear on my life, Kelso thought you’d sent me to end things with him. When you’re talking to your dad, remember he didn’t just overstep, Ives. He obliterated the trust between you both.”

  Becca’s right, and not saying anything I haven’t already thought myself. I nod so she knows I’m hearing her. But I’m unsure what I can do. Am I supposed to give my father an ultimatum? Deal with my relationship with Kelso or get out of my life? He’s my father, my only family. I could never cut those ties; it would be like saying goodbye to my mom all over again.

  We hear movement in the bathroom and Becca looks back to me with raised eyebrows.

  “Kelso’s setting up a chair in the shower for me.”

  Becca tilts her head with a mischievous grin. “He’s not going to jump in with you and help you wash?”

  We giggle together, and she switches on the television. My laughter fades with hers and the smile drops off my face as I contemplate my future. One where I try to juggle my father, Kelso, and his dangerous lifestyle. I could take the smooth and untainted journey and walk away from Kelso, but even thinking those thoughts makes my heart and mind rebel. It wouldn’t be me, and I would be miserable, walking away from Kelso would hurt too much. As my mother used to say, “decide what makes you happy and then fight for it.”

  4

  Broken

  Kelso

  Kneeling on the living room floor, I place Ivy’s leg and plaster in a garbage bag and tie a knot.

  Ivy giggles and lifts an eyebrow. “Have you done this before?”

  Grinning, I double knot the tie and look up into her bright green eyes. God, I’ve missed the way she looks at me. As if I’m someone special. “We’ve had a few street kids with broken bones stay with us before. No, I didn’t do this for them, but I observed my sister help them figure out how to shower with a hunk of plaster attached to them.”

  Ivy’s smile falls away and sadness clouds her features. Placing a hand on her thigh, I’m about to tell her not to worry so much, but before I can she sits forward and holds my face in her hands. Her eyes roam my face with an intense and thoughtful stare. “So much more than people know,” Ivy whispers, and places a kiss next to my left eye.

  Swallowing roughly, I lower my head. Fear spirals through my chest and hardens; the heavy weight begs to slam to the ground. Ivy shakes me to my core. She sees me for more than I am, and secretly I love it. She makes me feel alive, but the further she has me falling, the more scared I become. What happens when I won’t allow her to touch me? When I need to hold her down as we make love? Will she be patient with me or will she see all my broken pieces and run for the hills?

  “Want to help me shower?” Ivy whispers seductively in my ear.

  My heart speeds up and warmth flows through the blood in my veins. Groaning on the inside, I beg my cock to stay down. Think of anything else, anything except what Ivy is asking of me. What I’d give to put my hands on Ivy’s most sensitive areas. I crave to find out how she tastes, to suck and savor the soft porcelain skin between her legs. Oh fuck. I lay my hand casually over my jeans. How the fuck am I meant to stand with a massive hard-on?

  I turn back to Ivy; her head is tilted, and she’s waiting for my answer. Her irises blaze, and I know we’re both imagining how incredible it would be, to have our moment and come together as one.

  “I want to smack him,” Becca yells at the television.

  And with the interruption our moment is broken. I stand up and walk into the kitchen, where I round the counter and face the living room.

  Ivy follows me by hopping on one foot, her eyes glued to the edge of the counter. A mischievous grin spreads across her face. “Did I do that?” she asks, feigning innocence.

  My lips tilt up and I try hard to hold back my laughter.

  “Have these girls never heard of contraception before?” Becca says, and my eyes swing to the screen. Teen Mom is on. Yep, perfect, exactly what I need right now. Babies. Babies. Babies. Thank fuck, it’s working.

  “Ives, I should head home. It's Saturday, one of our busiest work days.” It’s not a lie, but I’m not being honest either. How do I explain to her how badly I want her? How desperate I am to gaze at her naked body, to commit it to memory forever, but she can’t do the same with me. Bile will rise in my gut if she tries to go beneath my pants, where I have not allowed anyone else to touch.

  Ivy’s eyes fall from mine. There is only silence, but I felt the drop of her stare like a bang ringing through my mind. The sound of rejection and hurt, and I was the one who delivered it to her.

  “Okay, I understand. Work is important.” Her voice is distant and etched with longing.

  I’m broken. The words sit on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t let them go.

  Ivy deserves so much more, but I can’t give it to her yet. I require more time to grow my courage and give us a first time she’ll always want to remember.

  Hard-on now under control, I walk around the counter and wrap my arms around Ivy. Even though Ivy’s feeling the sting of rejection, she still snuggles into my chest and holds on to me.

  “I’ll be back tonight,” I softly murmur into her hair. Ivy doesn’t look up. She nods silently into my chest, and my heart splits in two as I wonder if doubts are racing through her mind.

  Not happy with leaving us this way, I decide something needs to be said. I never wanted Ivy to know this part of me. I would be strong and suffer through our first time when I knew the time was right. Then I could conquer my fear every time after. All that matters is Ivy having a special memory of our first time. I want to look back and say I loved her right.

  Tilting Ivy’s chin up with my hand, I stare into her confused and glassy green eyes. “I’m sorry. I do want to. I just—” I stop midsentence as the words get stuck in my throat. I can’t do it, not yet. “We will soon, I promise.” Ivy shifts from a casual stance to a more focused one and her eyebrows furrow with curiosity. I’ve said too much. Shown too much. “See you later,” I say once more, and with a quick kiss on her lips, I’m walking out the door.

  I’m a coward. I couldn’t even stay to see the moment Ivy realizes there’s something wrong with me. Thinking someone may see my weakness sends me into a spiral. Control of how I’m viewed is how I get through each day. I’m able to breathe easy by hiding how damaged I am.

  Broken or not, I will make Ivy mine, body and soul. If I ever conquer this weakness, it will be with her. I pray it makes us and doesn’t break us.

  I’m about to get into my car, when a police cruiser pulls up. A man in uniform unfolds from the car. I’ve not met Ivy’s father yet—he never gave me the time of day at the hospital to come and tell me why I’m not good enough for his daughter—but I know it’s Sheriff Johnson without a doubt. The red I’m so familiar with shines through his thick gray-smattered hair. The man is average height, but stocky, with deep creases on his forehead.

  The sheriff catches me observing him and returns my stare. His lip press together, so much so his mouth disappears behind his neatly trimmed gray beard. His aviator glasses hide what I’m certain is a hateful stare. He moves, not to his daughter’s house, but toward me.

  Shutting the car door, I peer at my reflection in the window. White T-shirt, grease-covered jeans, and a hell of a lot of tattoos. Not the first impression I wanted to make when I first met Ivy’s father. I imagined clean jeans, my good leather jacket, and my short hair brushed back. Some effort to show how much I care for his daughter, and to slowly introduce my tattoo-covered arms, possibly after the man liked me. Not a chance in hell of it happening now. Striving to salvage the moment, I hurriedly flatten my disheveled hair, and when he approaches I nod and extend my arm. “Sir. I’m Kelso Kin
g. It’s nice to meet you.”

  My arm hangs there, unshaken with a clear rejection in the air.

  “Put down the fucking hand, I know who you are, King.” He spits out my last name with hatred and venom in his voice.

  Dropping my arm, I realize I’m fighting a losing battle. This man has already made up his mind about me and my family.

  “My daughter is better than your kind. I won’t let you corrupt her. You’ll stay away from her or there will be consequences.”

  “I care very much for Ivy, sir. I swear I only want to make her happy.”

  “Care for her?” the sheriff says on a bitter laugh. “She ended up broken and bruised in hospital because of you. If you cared for my daughter you’d end things with her.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t.” Peering into Eric Johnson’s eyes with nothing but sincerity, I open up. “I love your daughter, sir.”

  Sheriff Johnson spits on the ground beside my boot. “No,” he grates out in a rough voice. “You will end things with Ivy.”

  Linking eyes with him, I reply, “No. I won’t.”

  The sheriff glances to his left, out into the distance as he exudes anger. He can’t believe I’m still standing before him, telling him no.

  He turns his back on me and starts for the house, then abruptly he pivots and swings back around. I square up, tensing my body, preparing for anything as he barrels toward me. When I assume he’s about to put his hands on me he halts, our faces so close I can hear his heavy breaths. “I won’t warn you again. I will make your life, and your family’s, a living hell. You do not want me as your enemy.”

  On the inside I’m raging. No one threatens my family, but I need to keep my cool. This isn’t a gang member or thug I can beat sense into. This is the sheriff, and my girl’s father. My brothers have taught me when to shut up and walk away.

  Moving back, I open my car door and take a seat.

  “Good decision,” Sheriff Johnson announces, and walks up onto the sidewalk.