by Day, Laura
“Mike, thank you so much for re-signing me after everything that happened,” Blake said.
“Please, don’t mention it. You punched a deranged stalker. I’m not dropping you for that. Where is the lucky lady?” He asked looking around.
“She’s not a big fan of crowds and being in front of people. She’s still a little shy.”
“I can imagine,” Mike said, “after everything she’s been through...” He shook his head and then a smile appeared on his face as he changed course in his conversation. “But let’s not dwell on darker times. We are celebrating tonight. The fight is back on and you are ready to win, yes?”
“Absolutely,” Blake answered.
“Good.”
From behind them came an announcer's cry as he introduced the head of the company. Mike flashed a smile at Blake and then headed towards the curtain and onto the stage as his name was announced. The curtains parted and Blake got a glimpse of the bright lights and the crowd as Mike took the stage.
He was back. He had stood on the edge of the precipice of his career, but now he was back. He had put everything on the line for Ivy and lived to fight another day. He could have everything he wanted: his career and his girl, even his mom happily married. It was all so close, all just within reach. He just needed to wait for the noose to tighten around Darryl. That little rich boy couldn't hide for too much longer. He would be found soon and all of this could be over.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
They took a limo home. Ivy felt pleasantly tipsy and warm from all of the champagne she had drank. She snuggled into Blake as the limo slowly traversed the crowded nighttime Seattle streets. The only other time Ivy had been in a limo she had been with Darryl. He refused to drive and took black cars and limos everywhere – even just to go to a restaurant around the corner. It actually annoyed her after a while.
Being in the limo with Blake was different. It was something special, a treat. The divider was up between them and the driver and she enjoyed the privacy it offered. It felt pleasantly strange to be in a car driven by someone else. It was a luxury. She could distract Blake as much as she wanted without having to risk an accident.
She leaned against his shoulder, careful not to smear any makeup on his pristine white shirt. She reached down and felt his leg with her hand. Allowing her fingers to lazily trace their way higher and higher, Blake smiled down at her. Behind him, through the rain streaks on the windows, she could see the lights of the city as they flashed past.
Ivy hadn’t heard from her father since their argument. He hadn’t said anything about the article on BreakerSpin or Darryl’s wanted status. This was a time for celebration. She had been vindicated. Everyone knew how crazy Darryl was. They knew how he had devoted his life to ruining hers and the torture he had inflicted over the last several years. But Jonas didn’t care.
Her father had dealt with all of Darryl’s stalking with her. He had been the one to encourage her to go to the police, to file the restraining order, and to never give up in documenting everything that happened. She only had this moment of success because of her father’s hard work. But now he wasn’t here to share in the victory. Ellen was here, so where was he? Sitting alone in the dark somewhere? Should she feel bad for him? Should she miss him? He was wrong about her relationship with Blake, though. He was the one who needed to apologize. But was she really going to let her relationship with her father fall to ruin over stubbornness?
And then there was the sex tape. No father wanted to see his daughter like that. Not that Jonas would ever watch it. But he would know it existed and his friends might watch it. It could be humiliating for him; it was humiliating for Ivy. But the sting of the sex tape had worn off somewhat. It was humiliating and demeaning, but there was nothing she could do about it. It was out there and nothing could ever remove it forever. There was no point in being mad or upset over something she couldn’t change. She wasn’t happy about it, but she had at least come to terms with it.
Yes, there was a video of she and Blake having sex out there. But she didn’t regret sleeping with Blake, she loved him. The passion they shared was something wonderful and not something she ever wanted to be ashamed of. If a bunch of sick weirdoes wanted to watch something they knew was private and had been made illegally, they were the perverts not her and not Blake.
They arrived at the house and the limo dropped them off at the door. Blake exited first and put out his hand for Ivy to take as she stepped out into the wet weather. Blake pulled her close and, together, laughing they raced up to front door as heavy raindrops began to fall around them. They entered the foyer of the building and hurried toward the elevator.
The grim face of the super and the doorman stopped them cold in their tracks. For one moment Ivy wanted to ignore them. She wanted to run past them and into the elevator just to hold onto this feeling of safety for another moment. She was happy and she knew from the looks on their faces they had only bad news to give.
“Mr. Lambert,” the super said stepping forward and Ivy felt the smile slip from her face.
“What happened?” she asked. But she didn’t feel afraid. She felt annoyed. She didn’t want to do this anymore; she was tired of Darryl and his cowardly nonsense.
“Mr. Lambert’s tires were slashed. We have called the police and we have security footage. But nothing concrete. Whoever it was hid their face from view. They were wearing a cap and a dark, long coat.”
“We know who it was,” Blake said. “You’ve called the police?” His voice sounded strong and Ivy could not help but hold onto his hand as he spoke. She wanted his confidence and his strength, she wanted to be as brave and unafraid as he was.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll call triple A and have them tow the car to a mechanic. Please be sure to let them in the garage when they come.”
“Of course,” the super agreed.
Blake nodded at the other man and then he and Ivy walked towards the elevator. They rode up in silence. Their moment of levity was gone. Their happiness was gone, sucked out of them by Darryl’s machinations. Blake squeezed Ivy’s hand and she shook her head. Even when she was strong and brave, Darryl still had power over her – the power to take her happiness away.
They opened the door to the apartment and saw the bouncer sitting on the living room couch. There were no issues, he told them. No visitors, nothing strange. He had been there all night and the apartment was safe. Blake walked the other man to the door as Ivy slumped down on the couch.
“Darryl Linden Still on the Loose.”
“Linden Stalks Again, Covers Victim’s Bedroom in Red Paint.”
“Have you seen the Blake Ivy Sex Tape? Leave Your Comments Below.”
Ivy rolled her eyes at the headlines. She knew it was bad to look, but she couldn't help herself. She hadn’t been foolish enough to comment or do anything other than look. But she needed to see. She couldn’t bury her head in the sand. She needed to know what people were saying even if she didn’t agree.
She stared out of Blake’s large windows down to the city below. Splashes of red paint, slashed tires. Was it possible Darryl was getting desperate? He was normally more suave than this. He was all about actions that were creepy and strange, but otherwise harmless. But the sex tape and the words on the door and the red paint and now the tires. He was escalating things. He’ll be caught soon, she said to herself. He has to be.
***
The next morning, she sat in her pajamas on Blake’s couch. He had left for the gym before the sun had even peeked over the horizon. He had taken several days off from training, but the fight was back on and he needed to be ready. He left early and Ivy was going to work from home. She still had a few days until her return. Sipping coffee, she knew what she needed to do.
She dialed her father’s number and had to admit she was a little disappointed when it went straight to voicemail. It was a weekday at ten o’clock; her father was at work. He was near his phone. He was still deliberately ignoring her. She lis
tened to his voicemail greeting; he sounded stiff and unsure of himself as if he had been self-conscious off the message when he had left it.
“Hi, Dad, it’s me,” Ivy said as she stood up and began to pace the apartment. “We haven't talked for a while and I miss you. I don’t want us to not speak to each other. I miss you and I love you. Please call me back.” She hung up the phone and placed it on the table in front of her and stared at it. She was hoping he would call her back right away. She hoped her offer of peace would be enough to bridge the gap between them, but her phone refused to ring.
At one o’clock Detective Diaz stopped by. She sat perched on one of the stools on Blake’s counter and she sipped a cup of coffee as they spoke. “It’s a manhunt across the entire country. He is wanted and dangerous. This is good. It’s what we wanted.
“But he’s still out there somewhere,” Ivy said.
“And he’s getting worse,” Diaz said. “He’s escalating his attacks and we’re worried he’s going to come for you, Ivy. He’s lost a lot and his family is distancing themselves from him. They might soon leave him to his own devices and then what will he do? He might think that with nothing else to lose attacking you is the only option he has left. But there is some good news.”
“Thank God for that,” Ivy said.
“People are coming forward. The elephant that was left on your door, we found a print on it, but it wasn’t Darryl’s. It belongs to a man named Henry Jennings. He’s an out of work ex-con and a heroin addict. He was hanging around a local hardware store, hoping someone would pick him up for under the table work. Darryl hired him and had him go out and buy the paint and the elephant. He thought it was strange, but he was paid a lot of money and he was given a fix. He’s been working for Darryl since then. He was picked up the other day for running a stop sign; they found heroin on him. Once we had him in custody he told us everything.”
“Does he know where Darryl is?”
“We set up a sting to try and grab him, but Darryl must have known he was arrested and he never showed. But we did learn something.”
“What?”
“Darryl is running out of money. He had to sell a watch to pay this man and he’s been sleeping in a cheap motel off the highway. He’s broke and his parents aren’t helping anymore. Like I said, he’s getting desperate. This is good for us, but dangerous for you, Ivy. You need to be careful; you need be aware. Darryl is still obsessed with you. He’s not done. But we’re on his trail and soon we will have him. I just want you to be careful in the meantime. Promise me, Ivy.”
“I promise,” Ivy said.
There was a light at the end of the tunnel. It was flickering and weak and far away, but it was there. Darryl was desperate. He was at his lowest point. He was broke and friendless with no one to bail him out. All it would take would be one slip up and he would be done for. She needed to be patient. She needed to give him enough rope to hang himself with. She needed to show how happy she and Blake were together. She needed to show him the sex tape didn’t bother her. That would drive him mad. That would drive him out into the open where the police would be waiting. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, but Ivy still had a great deal of darkness to traverse before she could finally reach it.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Blake finished fifty pull ups and landed on the soft mat of the gym, rolling his shoulders as his arms burned. It felt good be back at the gym. It felt good to be back at work. He had missed almost an entire week of training after his arrest and everything that followed. But Blake was in exceptional shape. He could take a week off and not have it ruin him. He was still strong and fast and he was ready for his upcoming fight.
Jamal tossed a heavy exercise ball at Blake and he caught it before throwing it back. They went back and forth, throwing the heavy ball at each other, working the muscles in his abs and arms. It was a punishing training. Jamal was making him pay for his many missed sessions. But Blake like being pushed; he liked seeing just how strong he really was. It gave him confidence to push through the pain and keep going.
He got a break, finally, after fifty push ups and Jamal, like his own personal warden, let him take a break for a phone call. He called Ivy, and was happy to hear her voice on the other line. She told him what the police said. The part about her safety troubled him. He didn’t like that the police themselves said she was in danger.
“Can I come see you?” Ivy asked into the phone. “I’m bored here and I think maybe I want to pick up where we left off with our training the other day. I know how to punch, but I imagine there’s more to it than that.”
“Yes, come whenever you want. But do me a favor and use the car service,” he said. He was worried about someone tampering with her car, or grabbing her in an empty parking lot somewhere. It was all too easy for him to imagine it: Ivy walking alone, the wind whipping her hair about her, and then the squeal of tires as someone raced up behind her, grabbed her, and stuffed her into the trunk.
***
She arrived dressed for the gym in a pair of yoga pants and a tight tank top that showed off the curves of her body. He couldn’t help but be proud of the fact that he was with her. She was so beautiful and smart and heads literally turned as she passed. But she was his and his alone.
He smiled as she approached him. “Ready to work?”
“Yes,” Ivy said. “I’m ready to be your pupil.” He took her hands and wrapped her knuckles in tape and then kissed her palm before he let her go. “Don’t get soft on me now, Lambert,” she said with a crooked smile.
“Not a chance,” he said. He positioned her in front of a punching bag. “I want you to kick and hit right here,” Blake said, pointing to a spot about halfway up the punching bag. “The heel of your foot needs to hit right here.”
Ivy nodded and he watched as she squinted and focused on the bag. She got into position and lifted her leg and then kicked hard at the punching bag, pushing it into Blake. “Good,” Blake said. “Ten more.”
Ivy did ten reps on either side and then he gave her a break. She was out of breath and there was a thin film of sweat on her face and chest. Blake realized it had been a long time since he had seen her blush. Perhaps she had moved past her bashful stage; maybe she was harder to embarrass now. She had grown stronger right in front of his eyes.
“Okay,” Blake said. “That was good. Now I’m going to teach you some basic self-defense moves. The eyes, throat, stomach, and groin are the major weak points. You are smaller, so you don’t want to try and fight your way out of a situation. You need to be smarter than that. If someone attacks you, you need to hit their weak points as fast as possible and then use the time to get to safety.” Ivy nodded, but Blake needed to be sure she understood. “These moves are not so you can beat your enemy to a pulp. They are just ways for you to escape a dangerous situation. Now, put your hands up. Don’t let me attack you.”
Ivy dutifully put her hands up. Without a word Blake snatched out his hand and grabbed her wrist. He spun her around and then pulled her back against him, holding his arm across her throat. In one smooth motion he had trapped her. She gasped against him and struggled, but there was no getting out it.
He released her and she looked up at him aghast. “That was easy,” she said and the blush was back on her chest.
“I know,” Blake said. “I’m going to show you how to prevent it. When someone grabs your wrist like that,” he said reaching out and grabbing her, “you must act quickly. Don’t let anyone get the upper hand. Don’t think, act. When I grab your wrist I leave myself open to attack. Your legs are still free. So kick me hard, right in the stomach.” Ivy nodded. Blake released her and then he came back quickly, grabbing her wrist, but before he could pull her close she pulled on his arm and aimed a kick right at his solar plexus. It connected and Blake let out an “oof!” as he let her go. “Good job,” he said with an appreciative nod.
Her hit was nothing to him, but he was used to being hit. To the average man it would be quite the attack
.
“Next time, when it’s not me. Aim for the balls,” he said with a smirk and Ivy nodded. “And remember the eyes. Someone has you in a headlock you use both your hands on their eyes. Don’t bother trying to fight off their hands. Go for the eyes.”
Ivy nodded and Blake moved on to other maneuvers. But with every new defense he found a new attack followed. There were so many ways for a smaller person to be overpowered. So much was given to the element of surprise. How could he ever truly prepare her for every threat that Darryl could bring?
“Do you smell smoke?” Ivy asked as she massaged the sore knuckles of her hand.
“Don’t try to distract me. We’re only just getting started,” Blake said with a smirk.
“I’m serious,” she said, looking around the gym. But she wasn’t the only one who sensed something. Heads in the gym were raised. People were looking about them, taking off their headphones and wondering at the commotion.