by Levine, Nina
I expected her to lay into me for disrespecting her, and I wouldn’t have blamed her, but she surprised me when she uncrossed her arms and came towards me. “Well, that’s a start at least. I can’t say I have much tolerance for your language, but since I haven’t heard your voice for almost four months, I’ll take what I can get at this point.”
Fuck, I was an asshole.
I dropped my head to each side, stretching my sore neck muscles before saying, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I couldn’t.”
She nodded. “Ivy has kept me updated on what’s happening.”
“Really?” That surprised me. I thought she’d have locked that shit down deep and avoided talking about it at all costs.
“Well, I’ve had to drag it from her. You two are as guarded and stubborn as each other. I’m sure she’s only giving me just enough to satisfy my questions, but it’s more than I’ve heard from you.”
“And Bethany? She still not talking to you?”
Sadness filled her eyes. “I haven’t heard from her.”
Fuck, I wanted to throttle that woman.
I jerked my chin towards the dining room where Ivy was. “How is she?”
“How do you think she is?”
My chest tightened at the thought of how my woman was doing. I hadn’t touched her, kissed her or been with her in four months, and we’d barely spoken a word except to discuss household issues. We may as well have been housemates. We weren’t even sharing a bed. I’d gotten to know the fucking couch better than Ivy over the past months.
When I didn’t answer her, she nudged, “Go in and see her. I know she’d like you to.”
I wasn’t convinced. Scrubbing my face again, I shook my head. “No, I’ll just grab my birth certificate and head out. I don’t want to—”
It wasn’t often my mother lost her temper, and when she did, I knew I’d really upset her. This was one of those occasions. Her steely expression more than caught my attention, but it was the way she snapped at me that glued my attention to her. “I don’t know what thoughts are running through your head these days, Zachary, but let me tell you I’m not a fan of them. And I know I taught you how to show people you love them, so I’m uncertain as to why you’re treating Ivy the way you have been for the last four months. You will not be leaving this house tonight until you walk yourself into that room and sit your behind down next to your girlfriend and engage in a conversation with her. Talk about the weather for all I care, but you look her in the eyes and show her that you’re still in this with her. Because if you don’t, you are going to lose that beautiful girl, and only God knows what that will do to the both of you. I do not want to lose my son to the evil in this world, and that is the one thing I do know will happen if you don’t have the love of that woman behind you.”
She had taught me how to show people I loved them, and it was because of the unconditional love we shared that I did as she said. She asked me to do something, I did it. That was one of the only rules I had for myself, and I wasn’t about to break it now.
Ivy looked up the moment I entered the dining room. Her eyes met mine and didn’t let go. She seemed uncertain and didn’t say anything as I took the seat next to her. No one said anything; they simply stared at me waiting for my next move. I didn’t care about them, though. Not right now. The only person on my radar was Ivy.
My gaze roamed over her, taking in everything I hadn’t been paying attention to. Fuck, she’d lost weight, and she didn’t have any spare to begin with. I ran a finger down her cheek as I noted the exhaustion lining it. She didn’t flinch away from me. Instead, she appeared to welcome it, like she’d been waiting forever for my touch.
Before I could draw my hand away from her, she reached up and covered it with her hand. “King,” she whispered, and my soul shattered.
I closed my eyes, unable to let the world in any longer. An ache like I’d never known consumed me. It bled into my bones, ate at my heart, and made me question why the fuck I’d allowed this distance between us to grow. Four fucking months wasted.
When I opened my eyes again, I shifted to the edge of my seat so I could be closer and took hold of her other hand. “I’ve missed you.”
The brush of skin against skin shifted things in my head. Started clearing the confusion I’d existed in for months. When we were good, I was good. And while we weren’t even close to good right now, her touch waved a white flag.
The conversation at the table started up again, allowing us the space to talk between ourselves. Not that I cared if my family listened to what we said. I barely noticed them there. All I saw and felt was Ivy and the desperate need sitting between us to fix the cracks we’d sledgehammered in our relationship.
She squeezed my hand. “Can we go home now?”
I nodded and pushed my chair back, more than ready to take her home.
Mum looked up with a hopeful glint in her eyes. “Ivy has your birth certificate.” Of course she did. I wondered how many times Mum had practiced the speech she’d delivered. She’d managed to hit my triggers, and thank fuck for that.
As we exited the house, Ivy squeezed my hand again. When I looked back at her, she said, “I’m driving. There’s no way I’m letting you get back on that bike tonight.” Her tone was forceful, but I saw the hesitation in her eyes. Her doubt slayed me. We might have lost our way for a while, but I’d never once considered the relationship over. It sucker-punched me that she didn’t know where we stood.
I took her face in both my hands and backed her up against the house. A ferocious urgency consumed me—she had to understand I wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’m sorry I’ve been a bastard and shit all over us, Ivy, but I’m here now, and I’m one-hundred-fucking percent back in this with you. You do what you need to do with your mother, mend that fence or whatever, but know this—I will never make you choose between me and anyone ever again. You want me, I’m yours. However you’ll take me. Just fucking promise me you’ll take me. I never wanna be out in the cold again.”
Our bodies were smashed together, our breaths coming hard and fast, and my blood roared in my ears while I waited for her response.
She flung her arms around me as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her mouth crashed to mine, and she kissed me like she hadn’t kissed me in years. She fucking breathed life back into me with that kiss.
We didn’t need words.
We never had.
They just got in our way.
All Ivy and I needed was this.
We needed hands and mouths and to just shut the fucking world out while we showed each other our feelings.
And so my addiction only grew.
My drug of choice came back to me.
The problem with addictions is that in the end they always get you. They shred you, rip your life apart, eat you the fuck up and spit you back out. They consume you, and before you realise what’s happening, you hit rock bottom, and you’re left with nothing. You’re out in the cold without any hope of ever getting another hit.
Chapter Eight
King
I surveyed the Christmas tree standing in my lounge room. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ivy, this must have cost the fucking bank.” The tree touched the roof and felt like it filled half of the room. And the number of decorations on it was beyond anything I’d seen on a tree before. A fucking rainbow had vomited in my lounge room.
“Stop your bitching, King,” Annika called out from the kitchen where I figured she was helping Ivy cook dinner. “You told Ivy to sort the tree so she sorted it.”
It was Christmas Eve, and Ivy had insisted she wanted to start a new tradition of Christmas Eve dinner at our place. It had been two months since we’d patched up our relationship, and she’d reached out to her mother a few times, but Bethany didn’t want anything to do with her. Not while she stayed with me. I’d done everything I could to try to fix the situation. Nothing worked. It pissed me off that this would be Ivy’s first Christmas without her mother. However, I kep
t my anger to myself in an effort to keep the peace in my home.
I entered the kitchen expecting to find my mother having words with her daughter over her language. Frowning when I didn’t see her there, I asked, “Where’s Mum?”
Ivy glanced up from the potatoes she was chopping and leant over to brush a kiss on my lips. I slid my hand around her waist and down to her ass as she did this. The last two months had consisted of my hands on her and my dick in her as often as I could manage. We’d had a lot of time to make up for, and I’d made sure I showed her just how fucking much I wanted her. Shit was improving between us.
Mostly.
Her mother had managed to get her hooks into us without even trying. While I’d done what I could to fix the divide between Ivy and me, some cracks remained. My woman still held me at a distance some days. I wasn’t giving up, though. Far fucking from it. Thank fuck I had decades ahead with Ivy—I was sure as shit gonna need them to peel back all her layers.
She smiled up at me. “Margreet dropped the girls off about an hour and a half ago. She said she had something to do so that our first Christmas Eve dinner here could be perfect.”
Keeping my hand on her ass and her body against mine, I reached for the glass of whisky she had on the counter. I threw some down my throat as I watched her. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yeah. I finished wrapping all the presents, did all the laundry, made shortbread, and packed for our trip. Did you?”
She didn’t want to know what I’d spent my day doing. My hands had gotten dirty today, taking care of club business. I let her go so I could pour myself a drink. “My day is done, and that’s all that matters.”
She frowned at me. Ivy never pushed me to share club shit with her, but that was because I usually gave her something. Nothing I shouldn’t, but some story about what I’d done during my day. Since we’d reconnected two months ago, I’d shut down on discussing Storm business. Things had changed for me at the club—Jethro had me doing all kinds of things I’d never talk about—and all I wanted to do when I came home at night was get my fill of her. Sex at night balanced out the violence of my days, and it eased the tension that club problems knotted in my body.
Reaching for the hem of my shirt, she tugged it gently and asked, “Did you have a bad day?”
“No. I just don’t want to discuss it.”
Her frown deepened and hurt flashed briefly in her eyes. Letting go of my shirt, she turned back to the potatoes. I knew by the way she started a conversation with Annika about girl shit that she’d erected one of her walls between us again. She was blocking me out because I hadn’t engaged how she wanted me to. This was classic Ivy, a game of silent treatment she liked to occasionally play. One that pissed me off. Not that her games played a huge part in our relationship anymore, but I’d noticed some shit creeping back in over the last couple of months.
Swiping my glass of whisky from the counter, I left the room and headed upstairs to take a shower. The peace and fucking quiet would help me get my shit together. That we still swung between good and bad so fast and easily did my head in. Would we always be a hurricane of emotions like this? I liked some fight in my woman, but the moods our relationship suffered exhausted me.
I pulled my shirt over my head as I took the stairs two at a time, dumping it in the laundry basket and then stripping the rest of my clothes from my body. Blood from a beating I’d given one of Storm’s drug customers earlier had splattered on my jeans, so I kept them to the side. I’d wash those rather than leaving them for Ivy. I’d rather avoid her questions.
I rested my arms against the tiled shower wall, dropped my head and stood under the hot water for ten solid minutes to soothe my aching muscles. When I was done, I pulled on clean jeans and the black AC/DC shirt Ivy gave me for my last birthday, grabbed my dirty laundry and headed back downstairs.
Skylar smiled conspiratorially at me when I sat down on the couch next to her after loading the washing machine. “Are you avoiding Ivy?”
I scooped some popcorn from the bowl in her lap and eyed her. “You think she’s still shitty with me?”
Her smile morphed into a full grin. “Yeah. Of course. She was complaining to Nik that you always eat her Fruit Loops and that you bring the stray cat inside when you know she hates that.”
I grinned back at her. Skye and I always stuck together. Even when I pissed her off, she’d come through for me if I needed her. I’d been seventeen when Margreet fostered her; she’d been two. Six years of me looking out for her and helping Mum raise her meant we shared a special bond.
I shovelled popcorn into my mouth. “Don’t tell her, but sometimes I eat those Fruit Loops just to piss her off.” It usually ended with my hands in her pants. First came her complaints, then the sex.
Skylar raised her brows as if to say she thought I was an idiot. One day she’d understand the dynamics of sex, but if I had my way, that wouldn’t be until she was at least forty. Until then I’d just let her think I had no clue about women.
“Do you think Ivy will ever let you keep Booey inside?”
The stray cat that had wormed his way into my heart a year ago would never find his way into Ivy’s good graces. For one, he was a cranky motherfucker. Even after a year, he greeted me with a hiss before demanding food. When he saw Ivy, she received more than a hiss. He didn’t seem to like anyone but me. And two, she was allergic to cats. Booey, named by Skylar, was destined to live on my front step.
“I doubt it, Skye. He makes her sneeze too much.”
“Can’t she take allergy pills or something?”
I smiled down at her. The kid loved cats. Mum wouldn’t have one at her place, so Skylar looked forward to visiting Booey and me. “It’s not fair for me to expect her to have him inside.”
She smooshed her lips together disapprovingly. “He needs a home. He’s cold outside.”
I ruffled her hair as I put my feet up on the coffee table. Jerking my chin at the cartoons on the television, I asked, “You watching this or can we find something else?”
Her eyes lit up. “You wanna watch wrestling?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” I checked my watch. “Do you know where Mum was going?”
Her hesitation told me she did, but that it was probably supposed to be a secret. “She said not to tell you guys in case she couldn’t make her agree.”
“Make who agree?”
She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, seemingly torn about telling me. “Fine, I’ll tell you, but don’t tell Ivy, okay?” At my nod, she continued, “She was going over to Bethany’s to ask her to come here.”
Jesus, she’d been gone awhile.
I pulled my phone out and dialled her number. It rang out, so I tried again. After doing this three times, I said, “I’ll be back soon.” Standing and motioning at the television, I added, “Find the wrestling.”
I headed into the kitchen and said to Ivy, “Mum dropped the girls off about two hours ago, right?”
She had her hands in the sink, washing up. Glancing around at me, she nodded. “Yes.” Then, taking in the concern on my face, she asked, “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Skye said she went to see your mum. She’s trying to convince her to come for dinner. But fuck, two hours… she should be here by now.” My gut churned with worry that they’d gotten into it. The situation with Bethany was already bad; I’d be pissed off if that woman tore Mum to pieces more than she already had.
Wiping her hands on a tea towel, she came my way with a smile. “Maybe they’re talking and sorting things out. God, I love your Mum. This is such a sweet thing to do.”
I hadn’t considered that option, but deep down I didn’t believe it to be the case. Dialling Mum’s number again, I put my phone to my ear and hoped to hell she answered and was okay.
When I stabbed at the phone, frustrated, Ivy said, “You want me to call Mum and check on them?”
“Yeah.”
She rummaged in her bag and pulled her phone out.
; No answer.
She tried again.
Still no answer.
Fuck it. “I’m going over there.”
Ivy gripped my shirt. “That’s not a great idea, King. Let me go.”
I shook my head. “No, you finish what you’re doing.”
She followed me as I stalked out of the house. “King!”
Turning to face her, I said, “Ivy, I’ve got this. I’ll be back soon.”
Pursing her lips, she said, “You’ll screw everything up. Please don’t go.”
Shoving my fingers through my hair, I demanded, “How the fuck will I screw it up? It’s already screwed up. I just want to—”
“Mum called me today,” she blurted before stopping herself and biting her lip in the way she did when she’d said something she regretted.
I closed the distance between us, my shoulders tensing as I waited to hear what she had to say. “And?”
“She just wished me a Merry Christmas, that’s all,” she said a little too quickly for me to believe that was all that had been discussed.
“Jesus, Ivy, just fucking tell me everything.”
I saw the moment she decided to let it all out. Her expression flashed from frustration to anger to determination in the space of two seconds. Straightening, she said with force, “She told me how hurt she was about everything that’s happened this year with your mum and with me. She misses me and wants to fix things between us. I’m going to see her tomorrow.”
That last bit threw me—we were supposed to be leaving on our road trip tomorrow. But what really pissed me off was that she thought I’d screw this up for her. I planted my feet wide and crossed my arms, settling in for a long discussion. “You don’t want me to go there now because you assume I’ll fuck shit up?”