by J. J. McAvoy
When he hung up, I handed the phone back to Greyson, just as Wyatt placed the gun back in the holster around his ankle and rose back to his feet. He walked past me, toward a silver-gray 1960 Alfa Romeo Giulietta Spider, a redhead in tight jeans and one of his shirts leaning against the driver’s door, waiting for him. I had no more words for him because I knew he understood. He wasn’t running from me. He was running from himself. When he realized the only way to lose your shadow was to die, he’d be back. So there was nothing left to say.
“Give her the keys,” I spoke up, opening the driver’s side door of my own car for Ivy. Just like that, the spark in her blue eyes returned as she looked between them, eager for the key. When Lex handed it over she jumped in, rubbing her hand on the steering wheel.
“It’s so pretty.” She giggled.
Walking over to the passenger side, I looked back at them both. “Go back to Chicago.”
“Go back?” Greyson asked. “What about the p—”
“It’s evolved. Go home.” Seated next to her, I pulled off my tie, unbuttoning the top collar. However, she didn’t move. “Drive, Ivy.”
“To where?”
I didn’t answer.
NINETEEN
“My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean.”
~ Lana Del Rey
IVY
As I drove I found my whole body relaxing, not minding the silence, watching Ethan out of the corner of my eye every moment I had a chance. He was breathtaking, and I couldn’t explain it other than thinking of that moment right before it rained. The way a slight chill would fill the air and instinctively you would look up at the clouds, only to see them darken, lightning flickering through as it crawled over the sun and blocked the light. It was beautifully frightening and romantically catastrophic…that was Ethan when he became silent like this. It made me hold my breath. It made me sensitive to every move he made. From the way his eyes would shift from one person to another on the sidewalk to the way he’d tilt his head to the side, his arm rested on the door, every once in a while tapping his knuckles on his bottom lip, then gently rubbing his lip over the side of his finger.
I wasn’t simply turned on, but desperate. I wanted to know what was on his mind. I wanted to fall into the world he was losing himself in.
“There.” He pointed to the store. Confused but not arguing with him, I parked in front of the local Masters and turned to him. “Let’s go.”
Nodding, I followed him out. He stood in his navy suit and light purple shirt, sizing up the place. Without looking at me, he stretched out his hand, and I put the key in it. He glanced down at it and smirked, locking the car, placing it in my purse and taking my hand.
Oh.
“Look who’s all sweet again. You could have just asked for my hand,” I said, trying to ignore the heat radiating through his hand to mine and the rest of my body.
“Noted,” he said, swiftly killing my attempt to engage in conversation as we entered the store, the bell at the front door ringing as we did.
“Can I help you…?” the blonde teenage female started to say automatically until she looked at Ethan and she gawked for a moment, then became very…smiley, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Welcome to Masters. Do you need help finding anything?” she asked him because apparently I was invisible.
I was going to say something, but Ethan, letting go of my hand, walked past her like…well, like she wasn’t there, moving to the rack of clothes and looking through them.
“We’ll let you know.” I smirked at her, and for the first time she looked at me.
“Uhh, yeah, okay,” she muttered, a little embarrassed as she stepped aside, moving the cart of clothes she was hanging up for me to go through. Walking up next him, I watched as he grabbed a few things.
“We’re changing.” He let me know, reading a tag.
“Why?”
He paused and looked at me like he was confused as to why I was asking. “Because we look showy.”
“I’m pretty sure your cousin Nari lectured me on the importance of dressing showy.” Hence the reason for the painful pretty heels always on my feet.
“Chicago rules don’t apply here,” he said, pulling out a black wool men’s coat, and moved to another rack, but I grabbed his arm. He paused, allowing me to step in front of him.
Looking directly at his green eyes, I asked him the question that was starting to eat me up inside.
“What is going through your mind, Mr. Callahan?” I asked softly, reaching up to touch his hairline, and he didn’t back away or flinch, allowing me to do it. “When you change moods like this I’m not sure what to say or do.”
Leaning forward, he kissed my forehead and my heart started to race. “Find clothes, Mrs. Callahan.”
Just like that he walked around me.
Swallowing the lump in my throat and running my hands through my hair, I did what he asked. Grabbing some dark skinny jeans in my size along with a blood red blouse, black sneakers, and jacket, by the time I’d finished he was already standing beside me waiting.
“Take my hand,” he said this time when he outstretched his hand.
“That wasn’t asking,” I told him, taking it anyway.
“Noted,” he repeated, leading me back into the dressing rooms. I tried to go to the women’s side, but he pulled me to the bigger one with him, locking the door behind us. He tossed the clothes onto the small bench, reached into his jacket, and put the gun down there as well. Kicking up his foot, he undid the laces of his shoes then reached around his ankle, pulling out the slim knives. From the left ankle he took out a smaller gun.
Jeez. How did I not notice? All his clothes were always fitted and…my mind trailed off when he started to unbutton his shirt. Watching him work down the buttons quickly made my ears hot.
“Damn it, Ivy.” He sighed.
“W—”
Pushing me up against the mirror, his hands at the sides of my face as his lips covered mine, his tongue was already in my mouth, rolling over my own, tasting every corner of my mouth. His body pressed up between my legs and I wanted more, eagerly pulling at his belt, but he grabbed my hands, pinning them over my head. Only then did we pull back from each other and just barely, huffing, trying to catch our breaths.
“I’ve never had such a hard time thinking before you, do you realize that?” He snapped at me, squeezing my wrists a little tighter. “I could feel the lust rolling off you from the moment we drove off.”
“It is your fault! I’m burning and you’re the one who set the fire. So either you let me burn or you do something about it!”
He inhaled through his nose, and reaching under my dress, he yanked my underwear to the side and with no warning or remorse he rammed himself into my pussy.
“Uhh!” I cried out, gripping onto his shoulders, my eyes struggling to open as he pulled out and did so again. In the back of my mind I was well aware that the girl outside the stall could hear me moaning like a porn star and see the stall shaking, my bare ass pressed up against it as he fucked me so hard the heels fell off my feet and my toes curled, my arms wrapping around his shoulders.
“E…than.” I gripped his hair, my mouth wide-open as I came along with him. Frozen with both our chests pressed against each other, I could feel his heart racing…or maybe it was mine. He unlocked my legs from his waist, setting them on the ground, and stepped away. He put his arms up at either side of my head and hung his own.
“Ethan…”
“I’m going to need you to support me,” he muttered and finally looked up at me, and I swear it was like his eyes were glossed over with something. “Trust that when I choose what I’m going to do, you’ll be the first to know.”
“You ask for a lot of trust from someone you barely know.”
“Do I?” He kissed my lips and pushed away, completely taking off his trousers and pulling up the jean
s meanwhile I was the one with cum between my legs. Luckily, I still had facial wipes in my purse. It took a lot to embarrass me…it rarely happened. But there wasn’t anything attractive or sexy about the after-sex cleanup part. Another thing guys got away with—
“What are you doing?” I asked, startled as he took the wipe from my hands and pressed it on my inner thigh, sliding it up between my legs.
“I’m surprised you of all people are embarrassed in front of me.” He smirked.
“Me too!” I really was…until I realized I didn’t want him to see me as anything but sexy.
“Oh...” I moaned at his hand.
He bit his lip and kissed the side of my cheek. I loved how he kissed wherever he wanted over and over again. “Baby, I’m begging you…calm down until after we are done for the day. I’ll fuck you first and make love to you second, but I need to work, so please stop moaning, and for the love of all that is holy, stop screwing me with your eyes.”
He always blamed it on me. “You’re the one who keeps coming back.”
“I’m weak for you. What can I say?” He winked, throwing the wipe into the small trash can in the corner.
I was weak for him too. Much weaker than I thought. This time when he backed away I was able to focus enough to strip down and get dressed up again. Putting on the jacket, I grinned, loving the way it fit, especially the jeans.
“Beautiful,” Ethan said to me, already dressed and putting his second gun back around his ankle, standing far hotter in his outfit than me. He’d gone with dark blues and blacks, even with combat boots.
“Ditch the suit for this as often as you can,” I said, pressing my hand on his V-neck shirt.
“Nothing is better than a three-piece suit,” he reminded me, taking my hand again before opening the door.
“Our clothes—”
“Leave it,” he replied, leading me to the front counter where three girls, all of whom were blushing, well, two were blushing, one of them smiling as if she’d been the one he’d fucked, stood.
“For the clothes,” Ethan said, placing a couple bills on the table, and then added more. “And the noise.”
“Babe.” I pulled him toward me and the door when I could see the stars forming in their eyes. “Let’s go.”
“Thanks for shopping. Come again!” the one who smiled shouted as we got to the car. Ethan glanced back at her and winked before getting into the passenger side.
After changing, and fucking, it finally felt like I could breathe easy again.
“Where are we going next?”
“A block party. Apparently, you already know where.” He yawned, reclining in the seat. “I’m looking forward to meeting your cousins, much more now.”
Was he out of his mind? “You want to go—”
“Shh…” He dared to cut me off, eyes still closed. “I’m preparing to be dramatic.”
“Fine, trust the girl who was locked up for a DUI and has a suspended license to drive herself to a party. Hopefully, it doesn’t rain.”
“I will,” he said, and I was sure he drifted off.
I felt a little spoiled, but I really wished he hadn’t sent his guys off. I wanted them to drive so I could just lie on top of him.
I was becoming that obsessed.
I tried to keep my road rage in check as I drove toward my old neighborhood. Luckily nothing ever really changed around this side of town. The closer we got, the more I felt my heart thumping. It happened too fast. One minute I was trying to prepare myself, the next I was pulling to a slow stop at the end of the street. The neighborhood was full with food, beer, and the Irish, all of them walking up and down the street between rows of townhouses, to the yellow two-story house at the end of the block.
“Welcome home,” I whispered to myself, holding on to the steering wheel tightly.
“Don’t think of it as home,” Ethan whispered, still with his eyes closed.
“Just because I married you doesn’t mean I’m just going to throw—”
“A home is where you’re always welcome. It’s where you don’t have to whisper to yourself ‘welcome home’ because you’re worried no one else will. It’s where you come back and they throw the block party for you, not invite you to one already happening,” he said, surgically cutting out what was left of my heart.
“Thanks,” I muttered, slowly driving down the lane toward the house.
Sitting up, he checked the watch on his wrist. “Don’t thank me until I make you feel at home here.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant and he didn’t bother explaining. Once I parked, his eyes were cold again.
“We won’t be staying long. No matter what, don’t show fear. They aren’t going to do anything tonight,” he said to me, opening the door, and I followed him out. He didn’t take my hand this time, but stood close, walking a pace in front of me, past the iron fence, toward the back of the doors.
“Oh, my bad,” some guy stated, knocking into Ethan’s shoulder, his beer spilling a bit on his jacket.
Ethan glanced down at it and then at him. His friends were all rushing to get inside. He looked no older than twenty-two. Maybe.
“You’re good,” he said, though it was of no use.
The guy was gone, wandering inside. People passed us, no one really recognizing either of us.
“Musha ring dumb a do dumb a da.” Elroy stood on the table, already drunk, his brown hair in a faded in buzz cut, singing with four other men around him. His father’s dog tags hung off his neck as always.
I scanned the yard, looking for them…Pierce and Rory. I was sure they’d be here. Rory would come if only to tell me to get over it and show off how happy she was in my face.
“Ethan!” Elroy yelled, putting his hand over his eyes to see better. “Ethan Callahan, that you? Well, lookie here, everyone, we got a Callahan on the block!”
He jumped off the table and it became so silent even I didn’t believe it. Everyone’s eyes were on us, leaning over tables and each other just to see better. Elroy came over to us first, stopping only a few feet from Ethan and bowing. “Your royal assness, welcome to our humble abode.”
People snickered.
Someone even yelled, “Kiss the ring!”
While another yelled, “Say hello to my little friend.”
Which only made people laugh now. However, Ethan ignored them, all of them, including Elroy, walking around him toward the cooler. He took one of the beers, popped it open, and handed it to me before taking a second one. He drank it in one go and threw it to the side, letting it shatter on the ground before taking another and sitting at the same picnic table Elroy had just danced on.
“You grew up here. Tell me the beer gets better after the second one,” Ethan spoke but only to me.
“It’s actually around the third,” I said, taking a sip and then bunching my face. “Correction. If you’re used to it, after the second one it’s gold, but take a break for seven years and it tastes like rat piss.” I cringed, staring at the bottle.
“When I was eight,” he said and went on pretending as if everyone wasn’t looking, “my father took me to this pub in Ireland. When he went to the back to…get work done, I sat at the bar and mixed some Guinness and Irish coffee and moonshine together.”
“You didn’t.” I wanted to puke.
He nodded, taking a drink. “Tasted exactly like this. I was drunk off my ass.”
“You drank all of it?”
“I had to. My father told me I couldn’t bitch out. Next time I’d be careful playing Mr. Scientist.”
“ARE YOU FUCKIN’ DONE?” Elroy hollered at us, and we both looked at him.
Ethan glanced around and then back at him. “Are you talking to me?”
“You know I am—”
“Why?” he cut him off, which would only piss off Elroy more. “As far as I know, I’m just a guest. I didn’t realize I needed to make a speech or somethin’.”
Elroy stepped into his face and again Ethan didn’t move, just drank
. “You think you can come into my neighborhood—”
“Your neighborhood?” A very familiar voice came to the right of us. Shifting, I saw him. Cillian with his brown-red hair shaved at the sides and thick beard. He came out of the house holding a rack of steaks in both hands. Behind, Pierce Donoghue, my ex-fiancé, was carrying the ice on his shoulders. Once Cillian gave the steaks over to the man at the bar, he grabbed a towel, wiping his hands as he came over to us. “Little brother, you seem to forget the neighborhood belongs to everyone. It’s our neighborhood right, Ivy?”
“Ivy?” Elroy frowned, looking me up and down. “I don’t believe it. Who would have known there was such a pretty face under that dog hair?”
“Elroy, how about you let Shay know her daughter is back,” Cillian told him, and Elroy looked between him and Ethan, shaking with rage. Apparently he wasn’t only spoken down to because of his height.
“I thought you said your mother died?” Ethan asked me casually as Elroy walked away.
I nodded, moving to sit next to him. “I have no idea who they’re talking about.”
“Hmmm.” He glanced back at him. “Fgory, you hear her? She doesn’t know who you’re talking about.”
Elroy threw the beer on the ground, ready to jump. Cillian pushed him back. “Go cool off!”
“You just gonna let him disrespect me like that in our house—”
“Sorry.” Ethan kept pushing his buttons. “Was that not your name?”
“Cool off.” Cillian sneered at him again.
He ripped his arm away from him, turning back and marching toward the fences, kicking them as he went. I noticed a few others following after him. I was sure Ethan noticed too.
“Cillian Finnegan.” Cillian outstretched his hand. “Seeing as how introductions are needed.”
Ethan glanced at his hand then back at him, the bottle hovering over his lips. “Ethan Callahan,” he said and drank afterward, not shaking his hand. He nodded at me when he was done. “My wife, Ivy Callahan.”
“You don’t need to introduce her. Ivy’s family.” Shay walked out of the house, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, her square face and micro-thin brows even more pronounced. Rory came out dressed in short shorts, a plaid shirt around her waist, and a sweater tank. She hugged Pierce first, her brown eyes on me.