by Evie Harper
The world slowly crawls back into view and I open my clenched eyelids to see Ivy watching me, smiling, her red hair tumbling on each side of her face. The sun haloes her head like the angel she is. As if God himself is telling me what precious cargo I hold within my grasp.
“Are you okay?” Her first words to me, her voice still breathless.
Am I okay? I take stock of my body, my tortured soul; I sense no bile rising in my gut, no memories even attempting to sneak through. All I felt was joy, a place I’d call paradise.
Slipping a hand up Ivy’s stomach, caressing a breast and over her throat, I cup her cheek. “I’m okay.” My voice comes out thick, raw. A sensation I’m not used to, but not surprising. Everything is different with Ivy, real; I’m not playing pretend anymore. I’ll never have to again.
My eyes narrow as pain flashes through Ivy’s eyes. Does she think I’m lying?
Sitting up in bed, I bring Ivy closer to me. Cupping her cheeks with both hands so her eyes look straight into mine, I ask, “What’s wrong?”
Ivy presses her lips together and shies away from me. Something is wrong.
“Ivy,” I growl. Fear slips in and twists my insides. Am I not enough for her? Is she turned off by my shaking body? By my inability to take her like a real man should?
“I love you,” she whispers, and then slams her body against mine, winding her arms around my neck, nearly strangling me.
It takes me a moment to realize what she’s said. My gut unclenches and heat spreads through my chest as if a light has blasted through the many layers of skin. Ivy loves me and she said it first. I was afraid if I did, it might pressure her to say it. I wanted Ivy to say it because she meant it, not because her broken lover was desperate to hear it back.
Holding Ivy, I kiss her neck. “I love you too.”
Ivy drags in a deep breath and releases it. “Do you? Will you?”
Her words confuse me, so I pull back, unwinding her from my body to see her face. Will I? Does she not know how serious I am about us?
Gazing into her eyes, I make sure this moment doesn’t pass without Ivy understanding how I feel about her. “This isn’t a casual fling, Red. You’ve dug yourself far too deep inside my heart for it to be anything but love.” Running a calloused thumb over her soft cheek, I say, “I adore you.”
Ivy’s frown doesn’t disappear; the lines on her face grow deeper. “You don’t believe me?” I can’t keep the disappointment out of my voice.
“Yes, I believe you,” she replies in a strong voice, confusing me even more. “I hope we’re enough for each other. Loving someone this much frightens me. I’m afraid of losing you.”
My cheeks ache from my wide smile. “You’ve described my exact feelings. I’m relieved I’m not the only one feeling so territorial, as if I need to hold on to you with all my strength.”
Ivy’s mouth tilts up into a sweet smile. “I’m yours, Kel. You have nothing to fear.”
“And I’m yours, Ivy. I won't allow anything to tear us apart.”
Ivy nibbles her bottom lip, her eyes holding mine. “I need to tell you something.”
A pounding fist on my door snaps my attention toward the hall. “Kel! Slater needs you up for a job,” Pacer announces.
Gritting my teeth, I growl through the door, “I’ll be down soon.” Jesus Christ. The last thing I want to hear is my brother’s voice when I’m still balls deep in Ivy.
Eyeing Red, I notice her staring at the door, lost in thought. My hand glides up Ivy’s neck until I’m cupping her jaw, tenderly turning her head until our eyes meet. “Can this wait till later?”
“Yes.” She smiles, but it’s strained.
I’ve noticed that since Ivy confronted her dad, she’s been guarded. Her father has hurt her one too many times, and it’s clear she’s struggling to come to terms with how far he's willing to go to tear us apart.
I lean in and press my lips to hers. The kiss is lazy, the softness of it ending our intimate moment. However, when I pull back, Ivy grasps my face with her hands and deepens the moment. This isn’t a kiss I recognize. It’s hard and our teeth clang together, as if a storm builds around us. Ivy leans into me, her grip on my face becoming desperate and brutal.
Ivy halts the kiss and winds her arms around my shoulders, holding on with all her strength. “I love you,” she declares, her voice sounding as strained as her smile appeared.
“I love you,” I whisper into her hair, rubbing my hand up and down her back. “Everything will be okay, Red. I promise.”
Ivy
Fluttering in my stomach causes my limbs to go weightless. My slow and steady breaths stretch my lips into a happy smile. Water courses from the showerhead, and I continue rinsing the conditioner from my hair.
A cool breeze hits my back. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Kelso holding open the glass door. His eyes slowly track over my body. My knees grow weak as heat soars through my still sensitive core. Kelso’s a kind and gentle soul wrapped up in hard muscle, tattoos, and terrifying death stare capabilities. Every time I look at him, mine screams in my mind.
MINE.
Kelso’s eyes meet mine, radiating the same need my body now screams at me. However, he shakes it off and gives me a cheeky grin. “I really don’t want to go, but I have to.” Kelso leans in and kisses my shoulder. “I need to go pick up a part for a customer and then I’m back to work on his car. I should be finished by four. We’ll go out tonight for dinner, the two of us, so we can talk. Okay?”
My stomach coils, but I manage a smile. “Sounds good.”
Another kiss on my shoulder, and Kelso is gone.
I’m not 100 percent sure a restaurant is the best place for this conversation. I’ll ask Becca to head out tonight and then inform Kelso I’m cooking him dinner at my place instead. It's Saturday, Becca probably already has plans. It’s been five days since I broke Kelso’s trust when I told his secrets to my dad. Five days of trying and failing to tell Kelso what I did. Yesterday I almost begged him to stop for a moment and listen to me. I almost blurted out his deepest and darkest fears in front of his family. With every day that passes, the guilt chokes me a little more.
At first I blamed our jobs. The days were lost to work and the nights…. Kelso was happy and attentive.
Each time I imagined telling him, I saw his grin fade, to be replaced by hatred. He keeps telling me he trusts me, and every night since I’ve died a little more inside knowing he shouldn’t. I don’t deserve it, not anymore.
After leaving my father’s house, I ended up in my work parking lot, holding my phone as it rang with Kelso’s name on the screen. I wanted to smash it and scream at Kelso to stop calling me, but that wouldn’t be fair. He wasn’t the one who betrayed us. I picked up the call. He was frantic, worried about me. He was worried about me and I broke his trust. I cracked, and the tears fell, unbidden. I sobbed the hardest I ever had. Kelso thought it was over my dad, but I had no tears left for him.
I cried for the line I’d crossed.
For the fool I was.
For my selfishness.
I calmed down enough so Kelso wouldn’t come and get me. I couldn’t face him yet. I spent the day at work, trying to lose myself in it, dreading the moments leading up to facing Kel, to seeing his family.
That night, back at Kelso’s house, I saw tense and cautious expressions. None of them accepted me telling them I believed my father would back off now. Not even Kelso, I could see it in his eyes. He wanted to, though, but he still had my back when I fought to stay strong in front of his family. I needed more time. Time to see if my father would come through for me. But no one wanted to know what went on with my father and me. To them it was meaningless, they were over words and I couldn’t blame them. They were still kind to me though. Probably more pity; the poor girl who still thought her dad was a decent guy.
The next day they were more open to the idea. Lana’s old boss called her and asked if she’d come back to work. They’d made a mistake in dismissing h
er, was their reasoning.
Piper’s suspension was lifted, and she was given an apology by the head of the department. Two days later a letter came from the IRS stating there had been a mistake and Portland Mechanics did not need to be investigated after all.
Frightened and a little awed at the power my father held, my heart still grew lighter with each problem fixed. The only thing my father couldn’t take back was the intrusion of their home, something I knew the Kings would never forgive, or forget.
My father hadn’t contacted me, and I didn’t reach out to him. I was thankful he’d finally come to his senses, but any type of reconciliation would have to come from him. I needed him to make those first important steps. Still, I couldn’t stop the expectation from growing; hope bloomed whether I wanted it to or not. Nevertheless, I clung to reality. I’d been disappointed one too many times.
With things looking up, I had for a moment questioned if I should tell Kelso that I’d told my father of his past, his fears. It was a dark moment where I knew if I went down that path, no bright future would be waiting for Kelso and me. Nothing good can grow from deceit.
So began the ticking clock inside my chest, counting down the seconds until I was honest with Kelso. It was like an axe hanging over my head. I wondered if Kelso would understand. Could the man with no parents ever understand why I chose to try to keep them both? Would he hear about my selfishness and see how deep the regret ran? It’s a lesson I swear I’ll never repeat. Will Kelso allow me to repair what I ruined?
12
Nightmares Can Come True
Kelso
“Fucking hell!” Hitting the steering wheel hard, I maneuver the car to the side of the road as the police cruiser lights still flash behind me. I’m not surprised when it’s Parks who steps out of the cruiser. Arrogant fucker scans the area, taking his time before he walks to my window.
Parks says nothing as he stands leaning on my side mirror. His expression is blank as he stares down at me through his aviator glasses.
“For fuck’s sake. Do you assholes honestly have nothing else to do than each other’s dirty work?” I’m pissed off. Fucking furious. Not because my time is being wasted, but because if this is Ivy’s father’s doing, it will hurt my girl, again. I’m so sick and tired of seeing Ivy hurt.
“Out,” he barks.
Gritting my teeth, I step out of the Dodge and slam the door. I lift my chin and narrow my eyes. “You’re wasting your time. You’ll never get the girl, because the girl is mine. My cock still smells of her.”
At my words, Park comes alive. His lips curl up into a sneer as he reaches for me, slamming me down on the car. My chest hits cold metal, and he holds my head hard against the hood.
I laugh aloud. I know this routine. I’ve been pulled over and cuffed enough times to know I’ve done nothing for Parks to keep me. I’ll be free and back in my car in ten minutes.
Except I don’t feel cold metal against my flesh. A type of plastic material pushes my wrists together, cutting into my skin. Zip tie.
“What the fuck?” I breathe out in shock and push back on Parks.
He stumbles back but rights himself quickly. With both hands he grabs hold of my shirt at my neck, attempting to control me. He’s not strong enough though, I’m still able to thrash around, and I can hear Parks grunting, his chest heaving as he attempts to overpower me.
My shirt tears and Parks grips one of my biceps and flings me around. I fall to the ground, my left side scraping against the gravel.
Grunting, I quickly search the road, left and right. Cars drive by, but no one is gonna pull over and help a heavily tattooed man fight off a police officer. I’m screwed. I yank at the tie on my bound wrists; my skin rips from the plastic biting into my flesh, but the tie doesn’t loosen.
Parks rolls me to my back and raises his right fist. His clenched knuckles slam into my face, and pain explodes along my jaw as a metallic taste fills my mouth.
Spitting out the blood, I push the pain aside as rage simmers through my veins. I narrow my eyes on Parks, imagining what I’ll do to him when I get free, how I’ll enjoy his cries of pain as I break and twist his bones. I promised myself a long time ago I would never be powerless again. If someone ever tried, I’d show them what agony truly feels like.
Parks stares at me with cold eyes, his face twisting into a sadistic grin. He lowers his mouth to my ear and says, “Your filthy hands will never touch Ivy again. You’re a throwaway toy that has been used a little too much. You have old-man pedophile smell all over you.” He ends on a snarl. “I’m gonna do you a favor and end your miserable life.” Park leans back, his knees pressing down harder on my abs. “No more bad memories and nightmares,” he states in a mocking tone.
My body goes motionless. Time stands still.
No. No. No. No. She wouldn’t. Ivy would never betray me this way. She promised me.
Nausea fills my stomach and my body feels as if it’s burning from the inside out. Parks knows somehow. He knows my weakness. My shame. He’s told God knows who else. My mind races with how I can contain this; how do I stop people from talking and knowing my humiliation? My family’s disgrace.
Parks barks out a laugh and stands. Bending, he pulls me up and walks me to his car. My legs aren’t fluid; my steps wobble. I don’t fight. Without my arms free I don’t stand a chance.
As I sit in the back of his cruiser, my mind rebels against the idea of Ivy breaking my trust, my heart. She wouldn’t. My breathing quickens and I use every muscle in my body to stifle the hurt thumping through my chest.
I should have been watching Parks instead, because if I had I may have been able to block the hit from his baton against my temple. Light flashes behind my eyes as my body goes into shock, stunned by the sudden attack. Falling unconscious, all I see is Ivy’s face, her reassuring smile. Out of the two of us, all this time, it was me who should have been afraid of her. Ivy’s sweet smile turns ruthless, and the beautiful redhead I’ve fallen in love with becomes my worst nightmare.
As my eyes open, I’m met with a throbbing pain in my skull and rough carpet against my cheek. Groaning, I cup my head with my tied-up hands. They’re now tied in front and not behind. What the fuck happened?
Pushing my body up with my arms, a sharp pain in my neck causes me to clench my eyes closed. Grunting, I rub my temple, attempting to silence the thumping behind my eyes. I take in a deep breath, expel it, and open my eyes all the way.
Warmth from the sun flows in through a bedroom window that has pink curtains hanging on either side. Scanning the room, I find a small bed covered in dolls and purple sheets, flowers decorating the coverlet.
Still holding my head, I stand. Looking to the other side of the room, I see a dresser and mirror with a fluffy white chair. Spinning slowly, taking small steps, I see varying shades of pink, red, and purple. Clothes and toys are scattered carelessly around the room. What the fuck am I doing in a kid’s bedroom?
The door to the room opens and a man I don’t recognize comes into view. I examine him quickly: burly looking and probably ten years my senior. He’s dressed in dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black vest. His hair is tied back into a ponytail and he has a short beard.
He smirks and yells, “We got a live one.”
I brace, ready for a fight, but my eyes stop on a patch sewn to his vest. Anamosa Original. My eyes slide to the left. Lifetime Member.
Fuck.
Bikers.
Relaxing my body, I stand straight, lifting my chin and dropping my zip-tied wrists in front of me in a nonthreatening gesture. Bikers pack guns and have little care for the lives of those they don’t know. This is not the time for me to fight; it’s time for a chat. These assholes are working for Parks and most likely Sheriff Johnson, which means they can be bought. I need to offer them more than what fuckface has.
Heavy footsteps in the hallway grab my attention. A man, similar in age to me and wearing the same vest and patches, steps in front of his friend. A Cheshire cat
grin spreads over his face, and he rubs his hands together. “About time, now for the fun.”
His friend crosses his arms against his chest. “Take him to the shed. Krazy will kill us if we mess up the girl’s room.”
“Whatever the sheriff and Parks are paying you, I’ll double it,” I announce quickly, swallowing roughly and shifting on my feet, preparing to fight my way out of here.
The biker closest to me laughs aloud as he strides toward me and grasps my already ripped shirt. He drags me forward. The other biker doesn’t even blink; he shows no interest in my offer. “Boy, unless you got pull in the Marion County Sheriff’s Office, you got nothing we want.”
A heavy feeling hits my gut. A dirty deed for a favor from the deputy and his sheriff.
The man at my back pushes me through the doorway. I plant my feet hard and spin, turning only to speak to the bearded biker. “What is it you need? My brothers and I can get it done. Let me go, give me Parks, and we’ll owe you the favor.”
The bearded biker shakes his head. “I’m a man of my word. I don’t go back on deals, but I will leave clues for your brothers to look at Parks for your murder. I’ll give them the revenge I know they’ll crave. The fucking cunt annoys the shit out of me, anyway.”
He looks around me and in a gruff, irritated voice says, “Get him down the back, Grease. Now!”
I’m not fucking going anywhere.
Pushing with all my strength, I shove Grease with my shoulder, into the bearded biker. They’re big men, so when Grease loses his footing he takes down the other biker with a loud bang and thud against the wall.
I race down the hall, listening to the grunts and curses behind me. I take a quick right, hoping it leads me to a door. Any goddamn door.