Dirty Talk

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Dirty Talk Page 16

by Megan Erickson


  “Gary called,” Alex whispered, referring to her former coworker. “Robby came around the garage, asking about me, where I’d gone, who I’d left with. He wanted to know who called for a job reference.” Alex inhaled a shaky breath. “Maybe we should have moved farther away. Like Siberia.”

  “Alex—”

  “I can’t do this again. I don’t want to move.” Tears built in her eyes again as she looked up at Ivy. “I like it here. I like my job. Shit, Ivy, what if he finds us? He’d tear through this town, ruining everything, so we wouldn’t have a choice but to leave.”

  Ivy shook her head. “No, no, that won’t happen. We have friends here. They’d help, and—”

  “I’m just their employee.” Alex’s voice was a little bitter. “No one cares but you. And Violet. You’re the only people who matter. Who have ever mattered.”

  Ivy thought her heart had shattered at the doorway to Alex’s bedroom, but apparently there was enough left in her chest to cause a slice of pain to shoot through her body. “But he didn’t find out where we moved, right?”

  Alex shook her head. “Gary said Annabeth was there. Chased him off the property with a wrench.”

  Ivy smiled slightly. Annabeth was Gary’s girlfriend and a bad-ass. “He won’t find us. And if he does, we’re not letting him ruin our lives again.”

  Alex looked away, biting her lip. “I thought . . . I thought I was over this, but when Gary called, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Just hearing his name scared the shit out of me.”

  Ivy knew the feeling. Because she felt the same way. “We got out, though.”

  Alex picked at a pull on her comforter. “And then I wonder if I’m blowing this out of proportion. He never hit me. He just yelled and—”

  Ivy placed her hands on Alex’s knees and squeezed. “Don’t. Don’t diminish how he treated you. Emotional abuse is still abuse, and he was an expert at it.” If that man could reduce her sister to this, then he was definitely a master of all assholes.

  “But why didn’t I see it?” Alex sniffed. “How could I let it get that bad?”

  “Because you have a huge heart. And you loved him. And he took that love, and he twisted it into something ugly.”

  Alex wouldn’t look up. “I wish I liked girls. Or I wish I didn’t like sex at all. But I miss it. I miss having someone. And then that makes me feel weak all over again.”

  Ivy lifted her sister’s chin so she could look her in the eye. “You’re not weak. You’re the strongest person I know. And we’ll get through this. He won’t find us, Alex. We left him in the past, and this is the future.”

  Alex swallowed as her wet blue eyes searched Ivy’s face. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. You were there for me when Mike turned on me. Now it’s my turn to be there for you.”

  Alex’s smile was wobbly. “I love you.”

  It was okay to touch now. Ivy lunged at her sister, burying her nose in her neck, as Alex wrapped her arms around Ivy’s back. “I love you too. We’ll spend the day together, just the three of us.”

  Alex nodded against Ivy’s shoulder.

  Ivy clung tighter, screwing her eyes shut as tears began to prick her eyes. She blinked and let them fall down her cheeks. She cried for Alex, she cried for Violet, and she cried for herself.

  Because she couldn’t tell Alex about Brent now. She’d held his hand half an hour ago, yet already it felt like another lifetime. Last night had been amazing, but Alex came first. Always.

  When Mike had turned on Ivy, she hadn’t had anywhere to turn. Alex had taken her in, made sure she took her prenatal vitamins, and gone to her doctor appointments with her. Alex held her as she sobbed when the hormones got to her and fed her ice chips while she was in labor.

  Alex. It had always been Alex.

  She couldn’t repay her now, when Alex was hurting, by telling her she’d lied to her, that she’d done exactly what they promised they wouldn’t do—get involved with a man.

  What was left of Ivy’s heart was split in two, one piece back in Brent’s truck and another piece here, in her sister’s hands.

  She wondered how long it would take to be whole again. Or if she was doomed to feel like this forever. She hugged her sister tighter and let the tears flow.

  BRENT HELD THE case of beer in one hand, Honeybear’s leash in another, and kicked Cal’s door to signal his arrival.

  Cal opened the door, scowling. “Can you not kick the door?”

  Brent gestured with his arms. “My arms are full.”

  Cal thought about that. “Yeah, you’re right. Beer’s more important than the door. Come in.”

  Brent grinned as he stepped inside. “See? We’re definitely related.”

  “Hey, Brent!” Jenna called from the kitchen.

  Brent walked in and kissed Jenna’s hair as she stood at the sink. “Hey there, sweet cheeks.”

  “Can you not call my fiancée sweet cheeks?” Cal muttered, placing the beer in the fridge.

  “Oh, come on,” Brent said. “I—” He stopped abruptly, replaying Cal’s words in his head. “Wait a minute; did you say fiancée?”

  Jenna was staring at Cal with wide, furious eyes, and Cal stood frozen at the fridge, his mouth open. “Um.”

  “Seriously, Cal?” Jenna threw up her hands.

  “I’m sorry!” Cal grabbed a beer, pulled off the top and took a huge gulp. “Dammit.”

  “I’m going to need an explanation here,” Brent said, gesturing between the two of them.

  After shooting Cal another death glare, Jenna turned to Brent. “He proposed; I said yes. We had a whole thing planned where we were going to tell your family tonight, together, but Cal apparently can’t keep a secret for a freaking hour, so now you know.” She threw the kitchen towel in the sink that she’d been using to dry her hands and stalked off.

  Cal watched her go before draining half of his beer bottle. Then he turned to Brent with a chagrined smile. “Um, oops?”

  “You proposed?” Brent sputtered.

  Cal scratched his head. “Yeah, and she said yes. Although now I’m wondering if she’s going to get the ring to throw it at me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were proposing?” Brent felt out of the loop.

  Cal picked at the label on his beer bottle. “I dunno. Maybe because I needed to work up the nerve. And I wasn’t sure I could say the words unless I was looking into her eyes.”

  “Damn, that’s romantic, big brother.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Holy shit, you really did it, then.”

  “Yep.”

  “All that protesting over the summer, and here you are, proposing and shit.”

  Cal smiled, his gaze still on his beer bottle. “Well, it’s Jenna.”

  It’d always been Jenna. Cal had never gotten over his first girlfriend, his first everything. Brent had often been a little jealous of their connection. Although as he thought of Ivy in his kitchen that morning, he thought maybe he’d finally found that special connection of his own.

  Jenna came stomping back into the kitchen and shoved her hand in Brent’s face. On her third finger was a ring, a simple ring with a round diamond set in gold. “That’s a beaut, Jenna. Way to go, Cal.”

  “He did a great job,” Jenna said, her eyes still on fire. “Even if he sucks at keeping secrets.”

  Cal walked up behind her and pulled her back against him. “Cut me some slack, Sunshine,” he muttered into her hair. “I’m sorry I ruined it. It’s just Brent, though. We can do your thing when everyone else gets here.”

  And just like that, Jenna rolled her eyes and then melted into his arms, all the anger fleeing from her expression. “No, it’s okay. Kinda stupid anyway.” She turned around and smiled up at him. “What really matters is that we’re going to be husband and wife, right?”

  “Right,” he said, with a kiss to her nose.

  Brent made a gagging sound. “I hope you get married soon and get to hating each other quickly
because I don’t know how long I can put up with this sappy bullshit.”

  “Well, aren’t you a romantic,” Jenna said, pulling herself from Cal’s arms and beginning to assemble a salad.

  “I’ll be romantic when the right girl comes along,” Brent responded, not adding that she had come along already.

  Jenna raised her eyebrows at him and hummed before turning her attention back to the salad.

  OVER DINNER, JENNA showed off her ring to Jack, Asher, and Max and his fiancée, Lea. Afterward, Jenna and Lea sat in Cal’s living room, talking about becoming Paytons. Asher had left to spend time with Julian.

  Brent stood in the kitchen, flipping a beer cap, while Cal talked with Max about the bike he’d been working on for a client. Jack stood silent, eyeing Brent. When there was a break in the conversation, he barked, “What’s with you?”

  Brent lifted his gaze. “What d’ya mean?”

  Jack waved a beefy hand at him. “You’re . . . pensive.”

  Max choked on his beer. “Since when do you use words like pensive?”

  Jack glared at him. “I read.”

  Brent gulped down the rest of his beer and took a deep breath. “I’d like to volunteer at the fire station.”

  Two pairs of silver-blue eyes and one brown pair blinked at him.

  “Say what now?” Jack asked.

  “Volunteer how?” Cal piped in.

  “What do you mean how? I wanna be a firefighter.” God, it felt so weird to say those words out loud. He almost felt like a little kid, playing with fire engines. But kids weren’t firefighters. Adults were. Heroes.

  Jack wiggled a finger in his ear. “Come again?”

  “A firefighter?” Cal stared at him.

  “Like with the hat and the boots and the gear?” Max sounded confused.

  Brent rolled his eyes. “Is this really that much a surprise? I always said I wanted to volunteer, but I wasn’t sure I had the time, and I guess I was . . . I don’t know . . . embarrassed or something to want that for myself.”

  Jack still bore an expression as if Brent was speaking Russian, but Cal leaned forward, his brow furrowed, listening. “Okay, so what made you want to speak up now?”

  “I’m almost thirty. And I got a neighbor who used to be a firefighter, and there’s . . . things in my life that make me want to be serious about what I want out of life.” There; that was basically it.

  “You can still work at the shop?” Jack asked.

  “ ’Course. Might need to cut my hours some, but we have Alex helping out now.”

  Jack didn’t react for a minute but then nodded curtly. “Fine with me, then.”

  Brent blew out a breath and turned to his older brother, the one he always wanted to impress but never felt quite good enough for. “What d’ya think, Cal?”

  Cal stared down at the countertop, running his finger over the surface. When he finally lifted his head, Brent knew he’d made a decision, and he’d stick with it. “I think it’ll be good for you. You know what you have to do yet?”

  Brent nodded. “I talked to my neighbor, so he’s going to help me get my paperwork and physicals set up before I start my training to get my certificate.”

  Cal smiled. “Perfect.” He walked to Brent and clapped him on the shoulder. “Proud of you.”

  Max came forward, a smile on his face. “Lea teaches young kids; maybe you can visit her classroom when you’re all official.”

  Brent laughed, happy his brothers had accepted his dream.

  Cal gestured toward the living room. “Why don’t we go join the women? I heard my name a couple of times and want to make sure it’s all good things.”

  Brent trailed behind, checking his phone in his pocket. He wanted to call Ivy to tell her the good news, but she hadn’t contacted him yet today. He knew she wanted to talk to Alex today, so he didn’t want to bug her.

  So he sighed and shoved his phone back into his pocket. Hopefully, he’d hear from her tomorrow.

  Chapter Eighteen

  BRENT FIDGETED WITH his phone, opening up a text message but then closing it without typing it. Then he began to dial Ivy’s number but then stopped.

  He growled in frustration as he held his phone to his ear to listen to her voicemail for the hundredth time.

  “Hey, Brent, it’s Ivy. Um . . . something came up. I didn’t get to tell Alex anything and . . . yeah. I don’t know. Things are messed up right now. I’ll explain when I can. Thanks . . . thanks for Saturday. So much. Okay, bye.”

  That was it. She’d called Monday morning when he was in the shower, getting ready for work, and that was all he’d heard from her. It was now Wednesday morning, and the only reason he hadn’t gone stomping over to Delilah’s to see what the hell was up was because Cal had told him to chill out. “This isn’t the time to go marching over there, demanding she explain,” he’d said. “She’ll do it when she’s ready.”

  Brent had scowled, but he knew Cal was right.

  Another variable to the situation was Alex. She hadn’t been to work. She’d called out sick Monday and Tuesday, and of course did it before the shop opened so she had to leave a message, thereby avoiding having to speak to anyone.

  Or get interrogated by Brent.

  He hadn’t been able to focus on work, and he was surprised he hadn’t fucked up something big. He wanted to talk to Ivy, to make sure she was okay and tell her he’d signed up for the classes he needed to pass to volunteer at the station.

  He wanted to share his life with her and for her to do the same. But right now, she was freezing him out.

  A car pulled into the parking lot, and Brent watched as Alex got out. She walked with hunched shoulders, a sight that sent off alarm bells in his head. She slipped into the office to talk to Cal, and if Brent hadn’t been on the clock to finish rotating the tires on this fucking car, he would have been in there like a shot. As he worked, he craned his neck, trying to see through the glass windows into the office—which needed cleaning; Asher had to get on that—to determine the conversation that was going down.

  He had just finished the car and was putting away his tools when the office door opened.

  “If you’re sure . . . ” Cal’s voice drifted over to Brent, and he braced himself.

  “I’m sure,” Alex said softly. “Thank you so for everything you did. I really enjoyed working here.”

  Enjoyed. Enjoyed. Past tense.

  Brent’s feet were carrying him across the floor of the garage before his brain could engage.

  Alex was heading to the back room, and Brent followed.

  Cal sucked in a breath as Brent passed him, his eyes wrinkled in concern, lips in a thin line, and Brent didn’t like it, not one fucking bit.

  Brent heard Cal’s boots behind him, but he didn’t stop until he was in the back room, watching Alex search the cabinets.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Brent asked.

  “Brent—” Cal started.

  Alex whirled around, a hand to her chest. Her eyes were wide and a little wet, but they quickly hardened, a mask slipping over her face. “I’m looking for my coffee mug, and then I’m leaving.”

  Brent felt like a fish as his mouth flopped open and closed. “Leaving? Leaving where? What’re you talking about?”

  “It’s her business—” Cal started again.

  Brent ignored him as he stared down Alex. “No, your business is our business. You’re our employee. You’re our friend.”

  But Alex shook her head and spoke through gritted teeth. “My business is not your business. I’m taking my family, and I’m leaving Tory.”

  The words were a punch to the solar plexus. Alex was leaving. That meant her family was leaving, and that meant that Ivy was leaving. Leaving. She hadn’t contacted him for two days, so when the hell had she planned on springing this news on him? “Motherfucker!” he yelled, fisting his hands in his hair and pulling on it.

  “Why are you so upset?” Alex lifted her chin. “I realize I’m a great employee, but yo
u’ll find another one—”

  “I’m upset because you leaving means Ivy leaves, and that can’t happen because I’m fucking in love with her!”

  Alex went statue-still, her face a plastic mold.

  Cal sucked in a breath.

  And then Brent heard a female voice behind him softly say, “Oh my God.”

  He closed his eyes, because he wanted to go back to Saturday when everything was great, and Ivy was in his bed, and he wasn’t standing in the back room of Payton and Sons Automotive in the middle of a clusterfuck.

  He opened his eyes slowly and swung his head to see Ivy standing in the doorway, one hand on her mouth, her other arm wrapped around her stomach.

  She was staring at him, eyes huge, tears tracking down her face.

  “Ivy . . . ” he said softly.

  And then Alex came to life, her voice small and breathy and full of tremors. “Ivy, what’s he talking about?”

  Ivy blinked at Brent and then turned to her sister. “What do you mean we’re leaving?”

  “I asked first.”

  “No, I really think you need to explain.”

  Alex’s gaze shifted to Brent and Cal, and she licked her lips hesitantly. “We need to move.”

  Fear flickered over Ivy’s face. Pure fear. “Did something—”

  “No, nothing else happened, but I can’t risk it. I just . . . I need to leave because being here . . . I don’t feel safe anymore.”

  “Alex—”

  “So we gotta go.”

  “So that’s it?” Ivy asked, her voice gaining strength. “You just decided this without talking to me about it?”

  Alex tugged on her shirt. “If you wanna stay here, then go ’head. I’ll be fine on my own.”

  Ivy reached a hand out. “No, we stick together, remember?”

  Alex’s jaw clenched, and her eyes flashed. She gestured toward Brent without looking at him. “Then tell me what he’s talking about, Ivy. Tell me that nothing’s been going on behind my back without you telling me.”

  Brent willed her to say something. Anything. God, even if she would just fucking look at him right now, at least he could breathe again. But it was like he wasn’t even there. This was a battle between the sisters.

 

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