She looks about to weep. I look away, swallowing down a lump. “Call me tomorrow, Rye. Tell me what’s what.”
“I will. We’ll see what we can find out before we get the four of you in a room. We’ll have to have all sorts of reinforcements first. So we can protect you all. It might be a few days before Mase is willing to come up for air though.” He smirks.
And suddenly, I’m smirking, too, not feeling so much hatred for Mason Quinn.
I close the door and lock it behind them.
I open my bedroom door. She’s not there. I frown. The clothes she wore are on the end of the bed. I lift the shirt. It smells like her. And someone else. Her sister? On top of the pants are a pair of underwear with lettering on them. I look at them. They only smell like Ivy.
The word ‘BRIDE’ is on the ass of them in scrolled lettering.
I drop them and go to the other room, knowing that she’s in there. I put my forehead to the door for a moment and fill my lungs with air before turning the knob.
She’s made up the mattress where I slept as a kid, where Cornelius slept after I grew.
She doesn’t want to sleep in my bed with me.
I bite my lip, also biting back the emotion I’m feeling. And then I scoop her up into my arms. She startles and lets out a little scream, eyes bolting wide open.
I carry her to my bed and set her down, then I leave her there and take myself to that bed instead. I lie there and stare at the ceiling for the next few hours.
***
I’m running. I’m running and being chased by barking wolves who are gaining on me. They catch up to me and begin ripping me apart.
I jackknife upright. A dream. I’m in the dark and it takes a split second to realize where I am. It’s the wee hours of the night and I hear noise.
I rise and step out quietly. I see her sitting at the table eating from a tub of ice cream.
Her neck twists so she can look over her shoulder. She sees me in the doorway before she goes back to her food.
“That’s quite a feast you’ve got there,” I tell her. She’s got more than ice cream.
She makes a grumble sound. Upon closer examination I see it’s not a tub of ice cream. I should’ve trusted my nose instead of my eyes. It’s that creamy cold potatoes with dill spice. My mother obviously brought some to her in an ice cream tub. The fridge is full to bursting with food.
Ivy’s also eating cold meat with spice on it. Cheese. And grapes.
My stomach makes noise.
“Are you hungry too?” she asks in a small voice.
My heart warms. She still wants to take care of me.
“I am,” I say and sit at the table.
“Then you can just put it all away when you’re done.” She pushes her chair back and stomps off to the bedroom. She slams the door, leaving me sitting there with all that food.
I’m not so hungry anymore.
I put the food back in the fridge and go outside. I find myself in the garage. Ten minutes later, I’m burning all Cornelius’s paintings in a bonfire that’s too high, that’s as high and careless as the idiots at that house Ivy was at that night I met her.
When I watch the last of them turn to flakes of ash, I douse the fire with several buckets of water and go back inside.
I open the bedroom door. I see her eyes pointed at the ceiling. She closes them immediately, not likely realizing I can see her as perfectly in the dark as she can see in the light.
I shed my clothing and climb into bed. I climb over her body to the side near the wall and then I pull her to me.
She grunts a sound of disapproval. I turn her to her back and put my mouth to my mark on her.
“I love you,” I say. “I wanna feel you. I need to feel you. Please, baby.”
“Whatever,” she mutters.
“Whatever?” I inquire.
“Yeah. Whatever. You’re gonna do whatever you want whether I want it or not. Just get it over with so I can go back to sleep.”
Repulsion crawls through me. I hate that she thinks this of me.
I despise it. I roll off her, roar out my anger, and then she’s running.
No! She thinks I mean to hurt her. That’s not what that sound was. I clench my teeth together, hear her running out the front door.
When I get outside, she’s already to the willow tree, running as fast as she can. I hear her heart. I hear her bare feet pounding. She’s winded. Her beautiful blonde and purple hair flies behind her.