by J. Saman
What the hell else can a person do and continue on without suffocating in their ugly?
But Ivy? No.
She doesn’t need to rationalize anything she’s done anyway. She doesn’t have to make amends for wrongdoing, because everything she does is on the right side of good. She saves sick kids’ lives for fuck’s sake. She’s a goddamn angel and I may just be the devil in her scenario.
So when my front door slams shut, I’m not surprised.
I don’t even wince or start at the sound of it.
I just take this for what it is, and maybe, eventually, somehow, I’ll find a way to live without her.
Maybe. But probably not.
And if I can’t have her, it’s not like I could have anyone else, so I might as well admit that I had perfection once and lost it.
Chapter 32
Ivy
I hate the unknown. In medicine, the unknown can mean death or further disease progression. No, I like it when things are visible, tangible and with a clear and concise solution.
Cut, fix, sew.
That’s what I do.
That’s my life, and for thirty years, that’s worked for me.
Then Luke comes around and throws in the proverbial monkey wrench and messes it all about. Suddenly, everything I thought I knew and needed is upside-down.
I ran out on him and that makes me feel like a prize bitch, but I just couldn’t think. I was suffocating standing there with no room to breathe—and I needed to breathe dammit!
So I drove home, though I don’t remember the trip and now I’m tossing and turning in my bed in the wee hours of the morning, trying to make sense of everything he said.
Luke killed his father. Not just killed him, but shot him at point blank range.
Holy Jesus Mary Margret Jones.
I get his thinking behind it. At least, I think I do. It’s easy to see where his actions arose from, and somehow I feel better knowing that he stopped before pulling the trigger. Somehow that makes it an easier pill to swallow than believing that what he did was cold-hearted murder.
He was a scared and very abused boy who was trying to protect his sister. So even though I feel like I should condemn him for his actions, I’m having an impossible time doing it. I mean, you hear all the time about how battered women end up killing their abusive husbands and I sympathize with them readily.
And in my eyes, Luke’s situation was even worse than that.
From the way he made it sound, his mother was not helpful or even someone he could rely on and trust.
His father was a nightmare of epic proportions who was going to more than likely violate the one person Luke had left—his sister. And I don’t doubt for a minute that Luke believed it was his responsibility to protect her.
So can I forgive him for what he did? Yes, I think I can. I think I already have.
There’s that piece solved.
It’s really all of the government hacking rubbish that has me so worked up. It’s the clandestine operation that he’s a part of and the possibility of him risking not only his life, but mine as well.
And who does things like that?
Who actually has something as insane and outlandish as secret black ops—whatever that means—government spy things as part of their life? No one, that’s who. It’s fantastical, and if I hadn’t witnessed some of it first hand, I wouldn’t believe it.
I suppose that explains all the security features he has in his home.
Luke says things are different now. That the risk is minimized, but he’s still involved in that world and from the way he spoke, he always will be. Can I do that? Can I expose myself to that?
I just don’t know. I just don’t bloody know.
The mere fact that I’m even considering this, thinking about his life in terms of my own, tells me that I’m still in love with him. As if I needed that as a confirmation.
Yes, I love him. Yes, I want him despite my better judgment and the pain he caused me this previous year, but what does that actually mean for me?
Could I marry a man who lives that sort of life? Would we be able to have a family and not risk their lives?”
Jesus Christ, I can’t even right now.
I am not this girl. This is up Sophia’s alley, not mine.
Letting out a loud and exaggerated groan, I roll over and the bright red numbers on my alarm clock inform me that it’s just after four in the morning.
I should get up and get ready for work at this point, but I can’t seem to concentrate. I’m as preoccupied as preoccupied gets. I’m dangerous to my patients like this, and that infuriates me, because now I feel like I can’t even do my job because of this man.
I only have two patients scheduled for today because I’m new on the urgent care service and that’s where I’m working today, so I text my colleague and ask him to take those cases. Those children are far safer with someone else at the helm.
But it’s not like I can sleep or rest my brain, and I certainly can’t sit around my flat mulling over Luke’s deeds anymore. Part of me is very tempted to go back to his flat and talk more, but I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
I hate the way I left him. Have I mentioned that already? Because I really do.
I know it hurt him and though he’s hurt me, I’m not vengeful enough to want to return the favor.
It’s so late that it’s nearly early and I bet that there is a six a.m. flight headed where I need it to go. I don’t even bother with a bag because I don’t plan to stay the night, so I grab my purse, phone, and keys before leave my apartment in under five minutes flat.
It’s nowhere near close to light out, but the road is void of traffic and it takes me twenty minutes to get to the airport.
The terminal is fairly empty, so I stroll right up to the ticket counter, smiling at the perfectly polished attendant.
“I need a roundtrip ticket to Los Angeles please.”
She gives me a look, clearly noting my lack of baggage and the urgency in my voice. After a long pregnant pause, she begins to type away on her screen. “When would you like to depart and return.”
“First available flight out and I’d like to return this evening please.”
Another long lingering perusal as she taps her manicured nails against the keys of the keyboard. Click, click, click. It’s an annoying sound, but I don’t comment because I’m at this woman’s mercy.
“Why the quick turnaround?” she asks, feigning indifference, though she’s clearly screening me to ensure that I’m not some sort of terrorist.
“My ex-boyfriend is mucking about with my head and I need to go see my sister, but I have patients to get to tomorrow, so I need to come home tonight.”
“Fair enough,” she shrugs, before going back to her screen and typing away. Moments later I hand her my credit card and photo ID, and she hands me a boarding pass and I’m on my way.
My flight leaves in a little more than an hour so I have time, but just as I’m about to enter the meager security line, I hear my name being called.
Bloody hell, he followed me.
Of course he did.
The fact that I was once stalked similar to this by a man should have me on edge, but Luke has never done that to me. But he has managed to annoy the bloody piss out of me.
“Ivy, wait!” he calls out again as I step up to large disinterested man. I’m about to hand him my ticket and license when Luke reaches me, grabbing them out of my hand.
“Is there a problem here?” The TSA agent asks in a ridiculously deep voice.
Luke and I both speak at the same time, but I say “yes” and he says “no”. Then Luke flashes some sort of badge or special ID or something and the guy stands up taller, nodding his head and suddenly looking much more official than he did moments ago.
“I need a moment alone with her,” Luke says in an authoritative tone that could get me aroused if I wasn’t so angry. The man points in the direction of something I can’t see and Luke nods, looking stern
as ever.
“No,” I protest. “I have a plane to catch. Luke, go home.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but he has government security access and until he gives the all clear, I can’t let you through.”
“What the bloody hell does that even mean?” I turn to Luke who’s doing his best to hide his smug smile. Bastard. “Luke, I have plane to catch that I don’t want to miss. You can’t do this.”
I’m about to stomp my foot like a petulant child when Luke takes my arm, leading me around a partitioned off area that I’ve never noticed before, and into a small space that really has nothing in it other than three walls.
Maybe this is where they frisk people?
“What do you think you’re doing following me here and pulling this rubbish?”
“You’re leaving?” He looks so hurt and I feel bad about that. I really do. But stalking me into the airport and pulling some ludicrous security whatever is just not okay.
“I’m going to see Soph for the day.”
He sighs, running a tired hand through his disheveled hair. And now that I look at him, really look at him, I can see just how worn and weary he is. I doubt I look much better.
“You’re coming back tonight?” he asks, hopeful.
“Yes. I have work tomorrow. I’m already missing today. Can I go now?”
“No,” he says before grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me into his chest, wrapping me snuggly in his arms and burying his face in my neck. “I was so fucking scared, Ivy,” he breathes against my skin and I can feel his body trembling against mine. “I know I told you I’d let you go, and I meant it. I wasn’t going to bother you, but I couldn’t sleep and I ended up on those stairs across the street from your building again. And then I saw you leave so I followed and once I realized you were going to the airport, I panicked. I’m sorry. I know that’s crossing all kinds of lines and boundaries.”
Seriously? He did that? He really is the ultimate stalker. I mean he wasn’t pounding on my door and demanding that I open before he breaks it down like Jason used to, but still.
“I didn’t even intend to go to your place,” he continues. “I swear I didn’t. I was just out on one of my late night walks and without conscious thought, I found myself at your building. I was going to leave before the sun came up, but then I saw you.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you, Luke. I’m not fleeing the country or anything. I just . . . I need space and time to think this through. And your stalking really knows no bounds.”
He nods, fully aware of just how wrong that all was. “I don’t know what to say to you. Part of me knows that I need to let you go because you’re better off without me, but I love you so much that every time I try to imagine my life without you, I just can’t.”
My eye cinch shut, trying to keep back the scalding tears threatening to fall.
“I understand you need your sister and I’m sorry for doing this in the middle of the airport. Go, and if by some miracle you decide you need me even half as much as I need you, I’m here waiting.”
“I know,” I laugh. “You’re always lurking about, aren’t you?”
“I am. But in a totally non-threatening way.”
He laughs, squeezing my body to his and inhaling deeply like he can’t get enough of me. Can’t get close enough to me. It drives me wild when he does that and my body shivers involuntarily. His laugh dies in his throat, turning into a groan.
“You need to stop that, or I’ll have to pull you into a room for a cavity search. I’m dying for you, baby, and you shivering against me like me that isn’t helping. You have no idea how sexy that is.”
It’s impossible to be in Luke’s arms and not feel the same way about him.
His warm muscular, masculine, body presses against me. His smell is like home; familiar and safe, yet at the same time so incredibly sexy and seductive. It’s a heady mix that suddenly has me clinging to him, unwilling to let him go.
“Ivy?”
The question in his voice is so loaded. It’s asking so many things that the three simple letters in my name can’t even begin to hold them all.
I don’t respond, mostly because I’m so bewildered that I can’t make heads from tails.
I love Luke, so very much. And I want him, so very much.
And yet, I feel stuck in this chasm between so many possibilities and nothingness.
Luke pulls back, studying my face, a smirk twisting his lips. “Will you go on a date with me tomorrow night?”
I snort out an incredulous laugh. “Sorry?”
“A date. We never really did that, and it’s been a long time since we’ve spent any real one-on-one time together. I’ve placed a lot of pressure on this, considering the small amount of time we’ve actually spent together. So how about a date?” The lopsided grin he’s giving me with that damn irresistible dimple. The mischievous glint in his eyes. I’m so done for. “Come on, you know you want to.”
I laugh despite myself. “Okay, I’ll go on a date with you.”
“Awesome,” he smiles wide. “Now you have a plane to catch.” He takes my hand and leads me back to the security area and of course, there’s a huge line now.
I groan, “I’ll never make it.”
Luke winks at me. “Of course you will, baby.” He pulls me past the line right up to the scanning machine and over to a TSA agent. “I’m taking her to the gate. She’s been cleared,” he says, sounding so official I almost want to laugh like it’s some joke and they’ll kick us right to the back of line. But he flashes that badge again and the agent waves us through without being screened or questioned.
“What is that thing?”
He grins at me. “It’s confidential.” I roll my eyes and he laughs. “Seriously though,” he says holding my hand and leading me through the terminal to my gate. “Go see Sophia. Think about everything I told you last night. Get some sun and vitamin D. I hear that shit is important.” He winks at me again. “You’ve been living in Seattle too long.”
I laugh, nudging him with my hip. “I’ve actually been in Boston, but that’s not a whole lot better. Are you saying I’m pale?”
“Yes.” He laughs when he sees my frown and then kisses my temple. “But I love you pale, so it doesn’t matter.” Luke slings his arm around my waist pulling me into his side. “Actually, I just love you, so thanks for agreeing to the date.”
We stop in front of my gate and my flight has just started boarding.
“Not loving each other isn’t the issue. It’s all the rest of the stuff I need to learn to accept or understand or live with, or whatever I’m supposed to do with it.”
Luke wraps his arms around me again, leaning his forehead to mine.
“The stuff with my father I cannot change. That’s something I will always have to live with. But for the last ten years that I’ve been involved in the other stuff, not once has my daily life actually been threatened. I’ve never had someone trying to hunt me down or come after me, unless I was on the job. I can’t lie about that. But that’s changed now. I’m very good at what I do, Ivy, and I take steps to keep my world as safe as I can.” His hands come up to cup my face as he stares intently into my eyes. “And I would die before I’d let anything happen to you. It’s not as horrible as it sounds. I swear.”
I lean up, pressing my lips to his and it feels so right that my whole body seems to come alive. This is different than the kisses he’s given me out of desperation or passion. I’m the one making this choice and in doing it, I know there is no going back for me.
I’m his, and he’s mine. I just have to come to terms with the rest of it.
Can it really be that simple?
Chapter 33
Ivy
The beach that directly abuts my sister’s condo is glorious, especially in the morning sun. Large waves are crashing against the shore as sea gulls fly high in the air, squawking their delight. There are even a few surfers out there taking advantage of the swells.
I miss beaches
like this. Where it’s warm and bright and you can actually go in the water. I spent a great deal of my time here while I was at Caltech.
It’s hard to believe that it’s only a little after ten in the morning and I’m sitting here, considering where I started this morning.
I spent the entire flight down thinking about what Luke had said.
Not just from last night, but this morning as well. I believe him when he says no one has come after him. I mean, I have no idea what he’s doing exactly, and I’m sure it’s serious stuff, but I doubt hitmen—or whatever these people might be called—are standing outside his building waiting to pounce.
I’m sure there’s a large dangerous component to his life, hence the secretive nature of it, but as he said, no one has come after him yet. That, and he told me he’s taken measures to scale this all back, so really, it’s sort of a non-issue, right?
Did I just rationalize all of that away? I think I might have.
I don’t exactly love the whole leaving at a moment’s notice and having no clue as to where he is or if he’s safe. That part is unsettling as hell, but maybe that’s something you adapt to. Something you grow look past and accept as part of life.
I’ve already accepted what he did as a teenager, so really, what’s my hang up?
It’s the gravity of everything combined, I think. And not just his history or the complicated world he’s still mixed up in.
I came home, saw him and then he instantly pursued me. Again. He maintains that he came out to Boston on a few separate occasions, but was still restricted by the same obstacles that instigated him to pushing me away in the first place.
So dating him after all of this? Is it even possible to take so many steps back and give a go at starting over?
Nothing is ever simple, is it?
Though it really does seem to be that way for other people.
I’m sure every relationship has its hardships and challenges, but these seem almost impregnable. They nearly were, and I don’t know how to process all of that.
Dropping back into the warm sand, I close my eyes, facing up to the radiant warmth of the heavens while absorbing the sounds of nature around me. It’s tranquil and calming, and I understand fully why people pay a large fortune to live in places like this.