Contents

Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by C.A. Rene

Copyright © 2021 C.A. Rene

All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental, the characters and story lines are created by the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. No copyright infringement intended. No claims have been made over songs and/or lyrics written. All credit goes to the original owner.

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TalkNerdy2Me

Judge your strengths by your weaknesses.

“Ivy,” her voice floats to me above the music. “Hold my hand.”

“Keep both hands on the wheel.” I chastise but lean over to kiss her cheek. “Besides, you know the rules.”

Her face falls at my words, but I need to make sure she understands what this is, and I can’t have her thinking I belong to her.

Ivy Greene belongs to no one.

Not even to pretty Charlotte Jones from Toronto.

I let my legs fall open, showing him I have nothing on under my kilt, and slowly run my fingers up my thigh. He’s leaning against the chalkboard with his arms crossed and watching my face intensely. I know he wants to peek at my pussy but between the hours of eight and three, he needs to be professional.

“Ivy,” he snarls. “Knock it off.”

“I’m horny.” I shrug as my fingers meet the apex of my thighs. “And wet.”

“Mrs. Greene could walk in here at any moment...”

“Mrs. Greene can watch for all I fucking care.” I cut him off.

He steps forward, bringing himself between my legs, and grabbing my hand just as it lands on my pussy. His rough knuckles scrape along my clit and I lift my hips to feel more.

He yanks my hand and his out from inside my kilt and I whimper at the loss of contact.

“I said to knock it off.” He growls and chucks my hand away.

“Fuck,” I hop off the desk. “You are boring as fuck.”

I grab my backpack off the floor and saunter to the classroom door, flipping my long mahogany hair over my shoulder.

“Ivy.” His voice is low as he calls out to me. “Tomorrow you have detention here for an hour after the final bell.”

I grin and suck my bottom lip into my mouth. “Okay, Mr. O’Connor.”

I leave the classroom and watch as the students in the hall make their way to their lockers, getting ready to leave for the day.

Precious Blood Academy is a catholic institute that houses immoral teenagers but prays for our souls in the process. It’s not a strict school by any means, I’ve spent the last few years in a strict school and Precious Blood is a kitten compared to that. The only thing this school is strict about is the uniform.

“So, what is my fucked up little cousin doing tonight?” Carmelo’s deep voice rasps as he leans against the locker next to mine.

“We were born literally three months apart, shut up.” I open my locker and pull out the textbooks I won’t be studying tonight.

“It’s Thursday,” he chuckles. “Isn’t that race night down at the strip?”

The strip is an old, abandoned highway that’s rarely used anymore. It was long ago replaced by a larger one and now the unruly rich kids of Whitsborough use it to drag race, until my Uncle Emmett gets wind of it and shuts it down. I used to go there with Dad’s newest vehicles and race them for fun, all without him ever finding out.

“Tell me you’re taking the Shelby.” Cameron-might as well be a cousin-leans on my other side.

“I don’t know what I’m doing yet.” I slam my locker shut.

I stride out of the school and into the parking lot. I haven’t really bothered to get reacquainted with the girls I used to call friends a few years ago, they’re different from me, and honestly I’m just not interested. Who knows when I’ll be shipped off again?

“Call me if you’re going.” Carmelo calls out. “I don’t want you to go alone.”

He’s always been so protective of me and a lot of my family says he’s like his father-my Uncle Carm. Uncle Carm died before me or Carmelo were born and the means of his death are pretty hush hush. I did some digging around when I was in New York and found out that my mother’s side of the family ran a large mob organization back in the day. Uncle Carm was their leader for a while and whenever I got to see Trent-my mother’s business partner in New York-I tried to bleed him for information. It never worked, they are all so tight lipped about everything.

My family being tight lipped is a fucking understatement. I grew up knowing there were secrets, secrets pertaining to our relatives that have long passed away, and secrets that would completely destroy us if anyone found out.

“Ivy!” I hear a voice call out and I refrain from groaning out loud.

I turn and face a girl I grew up with and at one time called my best friend. Molly is sweet and innocent, but a complete loser now. I don’t know what happened to her in the few years I’ve been gone, but now she’s one of the loners that eats their lunch in the bathrooms.

I don’t answer her and instead watch as she huffs her way to me. She’s always been asthmatic and now that she’s added braces to the mix, she’s a bonafide weirdo.

“When did you get back?” She asks when she finally catches up to me.

“A few nights ago.” I unlock my M5 and throw my bag into the backseat.

“We should totally catch up.” She grins wide and I cringe as the sun reflects off all the metal in her fucking mouth.

“Listen Molly,” I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re just not my type.”

“What?” She looks horrified and her face turns the colour of a beetroot. “Not like that.”

“Like what? You aren’t down to eat my pussy?”

“Ivy!” She shrieks and begins to back away. “I meant like the old days, like friends.” She’s stumbling over her words.

“I’m not looking for any friends.” I shrug. “How’s your brother?”

“What?” Her eyes widen and I become increasingly annoyed at her stupidity.

“Nevermind.” I roll my eyes and get into my car. “Get lost, Molly.”

I close the car door on her stunned facial expression and flip down the visor, I have a date. I check my makeup and see my bright blue-green eyes looking back at me, their depths reflecting my inner turmoil. No matter how tough the exterior is, your eyes are the windows to your soul.

And that’s about as deep as I’ll get on that shit. I open the center console and pull out the already rolled joint waiting there. Time to drive and forget where the fuck I am.

I roll into the hotel lot and throw my keys to the valet. This better be worth the drive here, Toronto is a forty-five minute trek, and if this man’s dick is subpar, I’m going to snap. I walk into the lobby and head straight for the elevator, I already know his room number.

He has two hours to make me come and then I need to head back, because regardless of what I said to Carmelo, I will be racing tonight.

The elevator doors slide open and I see the bellhop standing inside. He has his hat pulled down low on his face but he fucking fills out the uniform perfectly. His face is stuck in his phone, so he doesn’t pay attention as I get in.

“Eleven please.”

I keep my eyes on the door and I can see his head snap up in my peripheral. He reaches his finger out and presses a floor, the whole time his eyes are on my face. I fucking hope he hit the right one.

“Ivy Greene.” His voice is deep and slightly familiar.

I turn and look into a set of light brown eyes, framed by thick black lashes, and skin the colour of terra-cotta, warm and golden. His lips are turned down into a frown but they are the sexiest set of lips I have ever seen, moist and full.

“You don’t remember me.” His tongue comes out to run along the plump bottom lip.

“I don’t.” I admit.

I can’t control this immense attraction I’m feeling, like he’s pulling me in, and I can’t stop myself from falling.

“Why would you?” His voice becomes mean and snarky. “Why would you remember the family of the girl you killed?”

Everything stops in that moment. My lungs stall, my heart falters, and my mouth drops. What the fuck did he just say?

“But Mommy and Daddy were there to make sure it was swept away.” He shoots his hand out and presses the stop button. “I wanted to kill you, too.”

He steps towards me and I wish I could get my body to work so I could move or scream but I’m stuck, just staring at him with my mouth agape.

It finally hits me exactly who this guy is and now I am the one fearing for my life, because if the tables were turned, I would’ve already killed him.

“Neil.” My voice is hoarse and dry.

“So, you do remember me.” Something close to curiosity flashes through his eyes.

Of course I would remember him. His sister and I were best friends and he was my first fucking crush. Neil Jones and Charlotte Jones were my first real friends outside of family. Neil being a few years older than us, stopped coming around as often when he hit thirteen, but Charlotte and I remained close.

Until I killed her.

“Yes,” my voice cracks and I want to punch myself in the face for sounding so weak. “Your family and mine are close.”

“No,” he steps in closer, our chests bumping. “My father and your family are close. He’s a fucking traitor for not having you charged with murder and your family as accessories.”

He’s not wrong.

I shake my head and tip my head back, looking up to the ceiling of the elevator. Did you do this to punish me, Char?

“You’re not going to fight me on any of this?” He asks and his voice pitches with disappointment.

I take a deep breath and steel my fucking spine, I’m a fucking Greene.

“No, I’m not fighting you, Neil.” I reach around him and release the stop button. “I’m late for a date and I get grumpy when I’m late.”

His brows rise towards the peak of his hat and he steps back to the elevator wall. He’s put as much space as he can between us in this confined place.

“You a prostitute or something?” He sounds disgusted.

“Or something.” I shrug and the elevator dings, announcing my floor.

“Don’t fucking come back here again, Greene.” He snarls as I step out of the elevator.

Even in anger, even with his features saturated in hate, he’s so fucking gorgeous it hurts, and I know it’s karma kicking me in the ass.

“See you around, Jones.” I wink and walk down the corridor.

As soon as I hear the metallic drag of the doors shutting, I let myself crash against the wall and suck in a lungful of air. I place my hand over my chest, feeling my heart beat rapidly, and try to slow it down. What were the fucking odds of this happening? I’ve been back for a few days and already shit has hit the fan.

I won’t be surprised when I get shipped off again and this time someplace further away. Mom is too busy to see what’s going on with me and Dad likes to believe I can do no wrong. Then, when I do fuck up, Mom can’t handle it and Dad sides with her, no matter what. I know it makes them sound like awful parents but really they’re not, my brother Saxon is the weird child and they focus a lot of attention on him, my sister Dahlia has a charm that captures everyone’s heart, and then there’s me, temperamental with issues for days, so I get why they are the way they are.

Doesn’t make it hurt any less.

I push myself off the wall and look towards the hotel room I’m supposed to be in, it doesn’t hold its same appeal after all that but I need it, nonetheless. One of my many issues is needing my legs open and screaming with orgasms. I need it to clear the constant fog in my head and I’d rather it be this than hardcore drugs. Besides, it’s all I’ve known for three years, thanks to him.

I shake the tall, dark figure from my mind and proceed to room eleven ten. I knock brusquely and the door opens wide to another tall dark figure, only this one slightly handsomer.

“You’re late.” His voice is deep and it resonates between my legs.

“You’re grumpy.” I push past him and saunter into the room. I made sure to hike my kilt up a bit more today, knowing it showcased my long legs, and hoping it drove him crazy. Most men liked a naughty girl in a school uniform, at least most of the men I knew, and I was hoping this one would be no different.

I stand in front of the large window, the blinds are down but the slats are open, and I see the Toronto Harbourfront skyline next to the CN Tower. He comes up behind me, his gold badge twinkling in the late afternoon sun filtering in, and his large hands land on my shoulders.

Last night I decided to take the Shelby out for a spin while sucking back on a bottle of whiskey and caught the attention of Officer Van Dyke. He pulled me over and could smell the whiskey pouring out of my very pores. I was resigned to the fact that I was caught, even fucking anticipated it, and was about to give him my wrists to seal in cuffs.

But then he recognized me.

Not hard to do when you look a lot like the woman who is acclaimed for cleaning a town up and donating millions. Or when you’re part of a family that literally holds the town pillars on their backs, a real social monarchy, and watched through a magnifying glass.

Hence why I’m here, Officer Van Dyke recognized me immediately and told me the repercussions of my actions. My chief of police uncle would be scrutinized and thrown under the bus, my mother and father would be criticized for raising such a deadbeat daughter, and finally I would shine a negative light on a family that works so fucking hard to be perfect.

Then he put forth an offer, I meet him here, today, and let him fuck me, then he would let everything go. I agreed because for one, it’s an easy lay, and two, I really don’t want to fuck up my family any more than I already have.

I watch the reflection in the window, his hands rubbing into my shoulders, and his wedding band prominent against his pale skin. Adam Van Dyke is married with children and a prominent man in Whitsborough. I know him very well too, his daughter Molly and I used to be best friends.

I begin to undo my kilt, letting it drop to the floor, my bare pussy on display, and begin to undo the buttons of my uniform top. I pull the white dress shirt off and toss it to the couch as I hear him undoing the belt looped in his slacks. I have that initial rush of panic, seizing my chest, and making it hard to breathe.

It lasts for about a minute and then I relish in the high of being wanted, being revered. My body is my fucking temple and as chaotic as my life is, I make sure to take care of it. I’m toned, lean, tall for a girl, standing at a few inches below six foot, and I have the curves along with it. I know the feelings my body and looks elicit from men and I work it to my fucking advantage.

I pull apart the clasp on my bra, watching as my tits bounce against my chest, my nipples hardening in anticipation, and I toss it to the growing pile.

“You’ve really filled out these last few years, Ivy.”

“Shut the fuck up, Adam.” I turn around to face him and roll my eyes when I see his cock.

Nothing amazing about it, less than average, and I’m regretting my decision not to bring my vibrator.

“That’s not going to do much for me.” I point at his dick in his hand. “I hope you eat like a madman.”

“Get on the bed,” he grins. “Sometimes it isn’t about the size but how a man works it.”

He’s naked in a matter of seconds and I give his body a once over as I scoot up the bed. He’s fit for an old guy, his abs are still visible, and he at least shaves his hair. Not too bad.

I open my legs wide on the stark white bed set, my deep olive skin a contrast to the purity, and stick two fingers in my mouth. Looks like I just might have to get myself started.

I pull my saliva coated fingers out of my mouth and run them through my folds, hoping to get myself off.

He crawls up the bed, his face stopping above my pussy, and giving it his rapt attention.

“I saw Molly today.” I tell him and hope for a reaction.

His head pops up and his eyes narrow, “what did you say to her?”

“She asked me to hang out, you know, like old times.” I sink the two fingers into my pussy and moan at the feeling.

“And?” He rasps, his sight back to my fingers as I try and pleasure myself.

“What the fuck did you do to your daughter?”

Again, his head snaps up. “What do you mean?”

“She looks like a fucking pariah, all that huffing and puffing, and the amount of metal in her mouth must set off the department’s metal detectors yards away.”

“She’s developing slowly,” his eyes look back up to mine. “Nothing wrong with that.”

I lay back on the bed after that and watch the ceiling as he licks and sucks at my pussy. No matter how hard I try to keep myself here in the present, I keep going back to when another would have his face between my legs, his fingers moving inside me, and no matter how much I cried and begged him to stop, he would continue.

I look down instead at Adam’s dark hair and focus on that. No greying temples, no small bald spot in the center, and his shoulders are wider. But Adam unfortunately doesn’t do it for me and I want to slap his head out of the way, then finish my own damn self off.

Then I see him, Neil Jones. His beautiful skin bathed in sepia, those light brown eyes framed by lush black lashes, his perfect nose dusted with freckles and a single hoop in the right nostril, and his perfect cupid bow lips, surrounded by a light shadow of growth.

I tip my head back as Adam’s tongue hits my clit and moan as I imagine it being Neil.

Neil sucks my clit into his mouth, lashing his tongue over the pebbled surface, and I can feel the heat pool in my core. His long fingers slowly push inside me and I clench around him, wanting it deeper, and wanting his cock instead.

“Turn over.” Adam’s voice breaks through my reverie and I growl in frustration.

“Stop talking or I’ll never be able to come.” I snap at him and turn onto my hands and knees.

I hear the condom wrapper rip and close my eyes again, imagining it’s Neil with the wrapper between his perfectly straight white teeth, then the sound of him sliding it down his length, and then the head being pressed to my entrance.

He pushes inside and I try really hard to imagine it wider, longer, and when the pace picks up, I try to imagine it pummeling my cervix. When none of the trying works, I bring my fingers to my clit and begin to furiously rub it, giving it the friction it needs, and all before this shithead proves to be a few pumps chump.

I’m almost there, I feel it building, and I hit the precipice, only to have the old fucker groan his release. I want to scream but I continue to rub furiously against my clit and as I crest, -finally-I feel his small, limp dick slip out of me, and he collapses on the bed beside me.

Fucking waste of time, I should’ve called his bluff, and taken the charges, family be damned. I just really thought I would be getting at least one orgasm out of this shitty ass deal. I jump off the bed and quickly grab up my shirt, pulling my phone out of my breast pocket.

Adam is still strewn across the bed, his little limp dick resting against his balls, and the condom still hanging off the end, filled with semen. I snap a photo and quickly begin to get dressed.

“You’re leaving?” He pulls up and leans on his elbows. “I have this room for the night.”

“The sex was shit, Adam.” I begin to pull on my skirt. “Why the fuck would I stay for more? Besides, I am a minor and seen on all cameras coming into this place. You may want to fucking check yourself.”

I fluff out my hair while he stares at me slack jawed and popping his lips like a fucking goldfish.

“You better not say a fucking word,” he finally regains his composure, “because I will take your family down.”

“Oh fuck off,” I wave my hand over my head as I start for the door. “Do it then, Limp Dick.”

I rush back through the lobby of the hotel and nod at the valet. He gives me a once over then saunters over to my matte black M5 and slides into the driver’s seat. I keep glancing around me, worried I’ll see Neil again and he’ll make me feel things-remember things-I’ve worked hard to suppress.

The car pulls up in front of me and I slap a fifty in the guy’s hand.

“Wow, thanks hotness.”

I stop in my tracks and look him in the eye. Not bad looking, I mean his face isn’t great but he has a banging body, and right now I need dick like my next fix.

“Get in.” I nod at the passenger side and his eyebrows shoot up. “You got two seconds before I’m out of here.”

He scrambles around the car yelling out to his co-worker that he’s taking a break. I slam the door and peel out of the lot before his door is even shut.

“Whoa, take it easy hotness.” He smiles.

“Stop calling me that.” I just need him to keep his mouth shut and pull his dick out.

“Give me a name then.”

I take a sharp turn into a parking garage and drive to the top.

“No.” I answer brusquely and park across three spots. “Get a condom.” I point to the glovebox.

His smile is huge and I notice his front tooth is chipped, it bothers me. I motion for him to hurry up and he quickly has his pants to his thighs, rolling the condom down his length. And what a length it is, thank god.

I reach over him, pressing the button to move his seat back and then I’m straddling his waist, guiding him to my entrance.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” He breathes.

I cover his mouth with my hand, “don’t speak.”

I slowly lower myself onto him and moan at the intrusion. It feels good to fuck something I can feel when I’m wet. I pick up my pace, alternating between thrusts and grinding, chasing the orgasm that’s been teasing me for a good hour. I reach my hand between our bodies and he watches as I rub my clit.

“Do not cum,” I snarl as I watch his eyes begin to roll back. “I will fucking gut you, cut your dick off, and shove it down your throat.”

His eyes widen like he realizes I could actually mean what I say-I do-and that maybe he should’ve thought this through more-he should have.

“Okay.” His whisper is hoarse and suddenly sounding a lot like his, the man with the greying hair.

I squeeze my eyes shut but when I feel hands under my skirt and fingers digging into my ass, I lose it. I open my eyes to my hand around this guy’s throat and come almost instantly at the potent fear in them.

As I continue to come, squeezing him, I squeeze his throat, and then watch as he cums, his face turning a deep red. I close my eyes blissfully as that figure in my mind disappears with my release, receding back into the darkest folds of my subconscious, and peace washes over me, even though I know it’ll be short lived.

I release him and watch as he sucks in some air. I plop back in my seat, drop down the visor, and check my makeup in the mirror. He pulls off his condom, ties it up, and opens the door to chuck it out.

Before he can close it, I lean over, “no, you can get out now, too.”

“What?” He looks at me bewildered as he pulls his pants back up.

“Get. Out.” I shove his shoulder hard.

“You’re a crazy bitch!” He exclaims as he jumps out of the seat.

“So I’ve been told.” I nod as he slams my car door.

I circle around him once, my tires burning on the bends, and laugh when he tosses me the finger. I didn’t miss the slight smile on his face though as I sped out of the garage.

I drive aimlessly for a while, my emotions running all over the place, and my mind serene despite the chaos. I rely on certain highs to replace my life’s lows and sex is one of those highs. It drives out the shadows that always seem to creep their way back to the front of my mind and I have no one to help me. Nobody knows what happened to me two years ago after my parents shipped me off to a prestigious reform school for the unruly kids of the wealthy elite.

Why was I shipped off to a reformatory school?

Because I killed my best friend-Neil’s younger sister-Charlotte Jones and no matter how many times I’m told it was an accident, I know the difference. My parents even know the difference since they tossed me away to some boarding school in New York and left me in the hands of the devil himself.

The cemetery comes into view and I sigh with relief. It’s like my brain is on autopilot and knows exactly what I need at this moment. I pull in and drive to our family mausoleum. It stands tall and proud, made of white brick, and lined with angel statues. Our family is in there and one in particular that means the world to me, even in death.

I enter and go straight to her plaque, immediately resting my hand against the cool metal. I try to remember her voice, her scent, but it’s been so long and so many tragic things happened after she left.

Laurann Jennifer Talia (Craven), beloved grandmother and great grandmother.

She was the one person that saw what was really inside of me, my struggle with connections, and my need to be alone. She saw my inner turmoil and made sure to show me how much she loved me despite it.

I was an angry child and I can’t really explain why, but she knew it. She told me I had evil that ran in my veins but unlike my ancestors, I could use it for good. She died before she could show me how and two nights later, that evil poured out of my body, stealing my best friend in its grasp.

“Hi Jenna.” She hated being called Grandma. “I miss you. I’m back home now and I’m sorry I didn’t come see you right away.”

I rest my forehead against the plaque, hoping to feel her, and wishing she would show me a sign of hearing me.

“I’m happy to be home but it doesn’t feel like a home.” I can feel the pressure building behind my eyes. “You took away my home when you left and now I can’t seem to find it.”

I feel the tears slip down my cheeks and I try to gather my emotions.

“We all miss you and not one of us has been the same since you left. How do I do what you told me? How do I take a hold of the evil inside of me and make it good?”

I stay for a while longer, waiting for answers, and when I get none I leave with a heavier heart.

"Ember!"

I groan and turn into my pillow.

It's always the same when my dad walks through the door, he screams out for my mother, and she answers with a laugh. Even after all these years, those two love each other like crazy, and it's fucking disgusting. They were high school sweethearts, even went to Precious Blood as well, and then married young when they found out they were having me.

I bet that's when the regret began to set in. Having a kid right out of high school really puts a dent in the college party scene, or when you want to hang out with your friends, and even worse when you're trying to have a date night with a screaming kid on your hip.

On top of all that, I was apparently a tough kid. I didn't listen, I was a bully, and overall I had a bad fucking attitude. My mother likes to remind me that not much has changed and then my dad tries to soften the blow by saying I resemble her in more than just looks.

I don't care.

"Ivy!" He yells out from the bottom of the stairs. "Come tell us about your day."

I can't ignore him for long, he won't allow it, and then it would get Mom started, something I don't want. She may be quiet and stays out of the way, but once she's set off there's no going back.

I grumble to myself as I roll out of bed and leave my room. This room used to belong to my Uncle Emmett when he lived here and I still have a few posters of his on the wall. Hip hop artists from his time, a couple of skateboards, and then there’s a picture of him with my Uncle Travis and Aunt Adri. I apparently chose this bedroom for all of it and cried when Dad offered to take them down.

I head down the stairs and hear my little sister’s laughter. I fight hard to keep the smile off my face at the sound but I lose miserably. Dahlia will always be my weakness because she’s still so innocent and pure. She’s a typical seven year old, full of questions, and unaware of dangers. And she loves me more than anyone ever has.

“Ivy!” She squeals and wiggles herself out of Dad’s lap.

“How’s my pretty flower?” I bend down and let her crash into me.

“I’m so happy you get to stay home this time.” She mumbles into my neck, her breath hot.

“I’m happy to stay with you too, Flower.”

It was always the hardest to say goodbye to Dahlia after my visits because she would cry until she lost her breath and my blackened heart would break.

“How was school, Ivy?” Dad asks as I disentangle myself from Dahlia’s arms.

“Good.” I shrug.

“As long as she stays away from the teachers it will continue to be good.” Saxon snickers as he comes into the room.

He’s twelve going on thirty and a fucking snob on a good day. He’s extremely smart-fucking gifted-and looks a lot like Dad with his bright green eyes and build. He’s going to be a lady killer and he fucking knows it.

“Speaking of,” I grin at him. “How’s your teacher doing?”

“She’s a girl.” He chuckles like he got one over on me.

“And?”

“Alright,” Dad cuts in. “That’s enough.”

Saxon is looking at me wide eyed and confused. Good. The little shit thinks he knows everything.

“Who wants pizza for dinner?” Dad asks and I turn, heading for the front door.

“I’ll grab something out, I made plans.” I call back.

“With whom?” He asks.

“Molly.” I answer.

Might as well make her and her family useful.

“Make sure you drive carefully.” Her voice makes me halt mid-step. It’s quiet but assertive and I turn my head to look at her.

I really am a near duplicate of Emberlise Greene. We both have thick mahogany hair, big blue-green eyes, and stand eye to eye. I’m curvier than my mother but besides that, we are basically the same person, and she’s stunning to look at.

“Okay.” I nod.

“If you’re taking Shelby to the strip, make sure you wash her down after, and don’t scuff her.” She says just before she disappears back into her office and the door shuts behind her.

I stand there staring at the door in shock. She knows I go to the strip?

I shake off the shock and quickly leave the house before she changes her mind to care. I don’t know why that shocks me as much as it does because the woman knows everything.

She just doesn’t give a shit.

ME: I’m here.

Carmelo: I’m pulling up in 5.

I lean back on the red hood of the Shelby and watch the gathering cars around me. The strip has become more popular since I left and I grin as I look around the crowd. Guys and girls of all ages gathering together and panting over sexy cars.

I hear the familiar deep rumble of an Audi R8 and look over my shoulder as it pulls up beside me. The doors open and I watch as Carmelo and Cameron slide out, causing everyone to look at them.

They are both devastatingly handsome and have so many girls here in Whitsborough chasing them. Where Carmelo is dark and mysterious, Cameron is fair and approachable.

Tonight they look their parts. Carmelo is dressed in dark wash baggy jeans, a white v-neck, and his leather jacket. His black wavy hair is covered with a black bandana and his dark eyes hold a hint of trouble. He’s tall, towering over most at six and a half feet.

Cameron has on a pair of black fitted jeans, a white hoodie, and a black bandana tied around his neck. His blonde hair is combed back slick over his head and his bright blue eyes twinkle with mischief. Cameron sucks people in and Carmelo spits them out.

They make their way over to me and I chuckle when everyone stops to watch our exchange. This is me announcing my return and I have two of the most popular guys ready to take up my flanks.

Carmelo and I are in the same grade, but Cameron is a year younger. I actually feel bad for him next year when we’ve moved on to college and he has his senior year here without us. You better believe my ass is not sticking around here for college.

“Prima.” Carmelo leans in and kisses my cheek. “Que tal?” What’s up?

“Nada.” I shrug.

“Fuck,” Cam cusses as he leans in to kiss my cheek. Then he holds up his phone to an opened message. “Amelia is coming.”

Those three words almost have me catapulting off the hood of my car… almost. I hold myself still and concentrate on my breathing. Amelia Jones is my dad’s good friend Rodney Jones’ daughter and yes, you guessed it, Neil Jones’ younger half sister.

My mother apparently helped get Rodney Jones out of the street gang life and my dad offered him a job to work for him. At the time Rodney who already had a son-Neil-and another baby on the way-Charlotte-decided to take him up on the offer to provide a better life for his kids. He moved to Whitsborough and things didn’t work out with Neil and Charlotte’s mother, but they came to see him and us every other weekend. That’s how we became so close.

Rodney ended up marrying Shay, another family friend, and they had Amelia a few years later. I haven’t seen her since her sister’s funeral and I don’t know how the fuck she’s going to react to me.

“Tell me you’re not fucking her.” Carmelo groans.

“Nah,” Cam shakes his head, “not that she ain’t trying to tap though.”

“Gross.” I mutter. “We’re all practically family.”

Not that I have a fucking leg to stand on because… Charlotte.

“Lots of bitches here tonight.” Carmelo hums and I nod in agreement.

“Yeah, there are.”

“You still swinging both ways?” Cam hits my shoulder.

“I swing all over.” I shrug. “I like the soul, not the flesh it’s encased in.”

Even though most of those souls turn out to be too bright and too pure standing next to mine.

We stand in silence, watching the buzz around us as more people begin to roll up in their suped up cars, and I begin to feel the flutter of excitement in my belly. I can’t wait to feel Shelby’s motor vibrate and roar as I leave these fuckers in her dust.

“Who’s Amelia with?” Carmelo asks and I immediately tense.

I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand and the air around me is suddenly heavy and charged with an intense energy.

He’s here.

“That’s her half brother Neil. He hasn’t been around since…” Cam shoots me a look.

“Since Charlotte died.” I finish for him.

“Is he gonna be a problem?” Carmelo cracks his neck to the side and begins to fist his hands. “I kind of want a problem tonight.”

I don’t say anything because I don’t fucking know the answer and Carmelo is a fighter, it’s what he’s known for. He’s fucking tall and fucking wide, fighting is what he does and according to our family, it’s in his blood.

Amelia is fucking stunning. She has her dark mane of curls out and surrounding her face, the streetlight highlighting the blonde streaks. Her eyes, much like Neil’s and Charlotte’s shine golden, enhancing her deep gold skin. She looks like her half sister but she also looks a lot like her mother, and Shay is a stunner.

Walking right beside her, his stride lazy, and his face half covered by another hat, is Neil Jones. They are coming right for us and I have to tense every fucking muscle to stop myself from fleeing. I knew one day I would have to face the music of what happened, I just thought I had more time.

“Ivy,” Amelia’s voice is smooth and thick like honey. “It’s good to have you home.”

She leans forward and brushes her lips to my cheek, “we should talk.” She whispers for my ears only.

I give her a brusque nod but my eyes haven’t left her brother’s form. He’s standing off to the side, his arms crossed, and his attitude permeating the air.

“Sup man?” Cam calls out to him, our ever welcoming golden boy.

Neil gives him a nod and turns his head towards me. I can’t see if he’s looking at me but I can fucking feel it.

“Ivy, are you racing?” Amelia asks as she makes her way to Cam.

“Yeah.” I nod and clench my teeth when I hear Neil snort.

“You got something to say?” Carmelo’s voice is deep with restrained anger.

I reach out and place my hand on his vibrating arm, he’s barely holding himself together, and rub lightly.

“Carmelo, tranquilo.” Calm.

Neil flicks the beak of his cap and it pops up further onto his forehead, showing us his face. He is fucking heart stopping gorgeous. His eyes narrow and his top lip curls upward, “bro…”

“Stop, Neil!” Amelia yells. “These are my friends.”

We are?

Neil growls at being cut off and snaps the cap back down his face, then storms off through the crowd. I watch his retreating back and exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Nice car.” I look up at the voice and stare into a face I’ve never seen before.

“Fuck off, Pat.” Carmelo growls again.

“Hold on,” this Pat holds up his hands, “I haven’t seen you or this car around here before, are you racing?” He asks me.

“I used to come here,” I answer softly, “haven’t been in a few years. I may race.” I shrug.

“That car is meant to be driven,” he continues.

“What exactly are you getting at, Pat?” I sit up on the hood and look him in the eye.

Both Carmelo and Cam begin to chuckle and Pat’s eyes flash with trouble, I wait patiently for him to toss out terms.

“Race me,” he pops his hands on either side of me on the hood and leans in.

“Back up, man.” Carmelo steps forward.

Pat is definitely older because I haven’t seen him at school and he looks more college aged. He has tattoos covering his arms and neck, and a few tear drops decorate his face under his right eye. This one is either a legit gang banger or a fake thug, I don’t fucking care either way.

“I don’t do friendly races,” I tell him. “What are the terms?”

“I can see you don’t need money,” he looks from my attire to the car I’m sitting on. “What does a princess like you want?”

I give him a slow raking once over and deem him worthy of the terms I want to lay out.

“The winner gets head.” I smirk.

The anger is still all consuming but now it holds something else. I hate to fucking admit it, but Ivy Greene is fucking hot, and I can’t seem to get those eyes and her voice out of my head. I can still fucking smell her, that lingering citrus fragrance, and something close to vanilla.

After she left the elevator earlier today, the scent wafted around me, and instead of getting the fuck out, I stayed in there until it slowly faded away. She always smelled like vanilla when we were kids and the second I smelled her in the elevator, I knew who it was.

My insides ripped apart when the first thing my heart remembered was the feelings I had attached to that scent, and then my brain kicked in to remind us that I fucking hated her. She killed Charlotte.

Now she had Amelia wrapped around her finger and all I want to do is wrap my hand around her throat and strangle her, or kiss her, maybe fucking both. It’s hard to separate shit in my head when I see her because on one hand, she’s my first real crush from when we were kids and on the other, she took something so important away from me.

“Ivy is back.” I hear a few chicks murmuring.

“I heard she went to a reform school for wayward teens.”

“What the fuck is a wayward?” A dumb fucking chick asks.

“Like bad kids.”

“Oh, because she was the reason that girl died a few years ago, right?” Another chimes in.

“Yeah, my dad thinks she should’ve gone to juvie for that but her parents paid off the judge.” Fucking right she should have.

Her parents didn’t pay off fucking anyone, my traitor father didn’t press charges, and I don’t think I will ever see him the same again.

“Is she racing tonight?”

“Should she even be driving?” Great fucking question.

“I saw her race last year and she’s good, she came in first.” Huh.

“I think your boyfriend is over there talking to her, Riley.”

“What?” A tall blonde whips her head around to look.

She’s wearing a small tube dress in a loud pink colour and tottering on heels tall enough to call stilts.

“You should go over there,” a girl pipes up. “I’ve heard about her venom.”

Venom.

If that ain’t the fucking truth, Ivy’s venom is potent, and the smallest amount draws you in... then kills you.

The girl on stilts stumbles her way back over towards Ivy with her band of girls behind her for back up, and I follow far enough behind not to be seen but close enough that I can hear what’s going down.

“Pat,” Stilt girl shouts, “what’s going on?”

“Just some friendly wagering.” The boyfriend answers.

“Is this your girlfriend, Pat?” Her voice is like smoke and ice.

“Yes, I am.” Stilts exclaims.

“Nice.” Ivy replies and I look around the girl to see her hop off her hood.

She rounds the front of her car and motions to the two guys with her to back up. She gets in and rolls the window down as her car rumbles loudly to life.

“Pat,” she calls out as the guy heads for his car, “we’ll discuss details when you catch up to me at the finish line.”

Cocky little bitch. I hope this fucking guy smokes her.

She drives up to the starting line and revs her engine as she waits for this Pat dude to pull up beside her. I stand transfixed, watching her car, and waiting with bated breath for her to move.

“She’s misunderstood.” Amelia’s voice comes from behind me.

“She killed our sister.” I growl without taking my eyes off the snake in her car.

“Dad believes otherwise, Neil. He says Charlotte wasn’t acting right for a while.” Amelia’s words only push me to further anger.

“Are you kidding me?” I turn on her. “What could you possibly know? You were a fucking kid!”

“I remember her!” She screams at me. “Charlotte wasn’t perfect!”

I close my eyes and exhale, trying to breathe out the anger and inhale calm energy. I don’t want people to witness anymore shit from the Jones family, we’ve given them enough to talk about over the years.

“This isn’t the place, Amelia.” I tug her over and under my arm. “I love you.” I kiss her temple and hug her in close.

I refuse to lose another sister to the Greenes. I hear the roar of engines and the burning of tires and look up in time to see the back end of both vehicles disappear into the night, only the red tail lights visible.

“You need to forgive her.” She whispers to me. “You need to let go of that anger inside of you.”

I don’t argue with her and I’m saved by the sound of squealing tires as the two cars come veering back. Ivy is in the lead and in the last hundred feet, she pulls it home. I guess the bitch taught herself how to fucking drive in the last two years.

Her cousin Carmelo-the one that tried to step up to me earlier-rushes her car screaming excitedly and pulling open her door to haul her out. Ivy’s face is thrown back and pure pleasure radiates from her features. She’s so beautiful and it hits you like a ton of bricks, if only her insides matched the outside.

Amelia screams and runs over, only to be scooped up by Ivy’s other boy Cameron, and my teeth clench when I realize my last living sister is chilling in the jaws of a croc. I need to pull her out and fast.

“You won, Ivy.” The guy Ivy raced steps out of his car, “and now for your prize.”

What the fuck did they wager?

Ivy grins and licks her plush lips, like the fucking croc going in for the kill.

“How do you want it?” He calls out.

Ivy backs up and scoots back up on the hood of her car, spreading her legs and making her leather skirt slide up her thighs. I see a thin scrap of black material nestled between her legs and groan when she reaches her hand under her skirt to touch herself. I’m instantly hard and completely confused. What the fuck is going on?

Her cousin steps forward, growling her name, and reaching for her, but she shrugs him off and waves him away. Then Pat steps forward and rests his hands on either side of her waist, watching her hand closely. His girlfriend is being held back by her friends as she screams at the duo. Pat looks over his shoulder at her and shrugs.

“A bet’s a bet, Riles.” He grins like the cat that got the cream, fuck, I guess he did.

He reaches inside Ivy’s skirt and pulls her panties down, I look around for anyone that may be recording. Why isn’t anyone recording?

A guy steps up to my left and looks like he's practically salivating. The sudden urge to knock his teeth down his throat overwhelms me.

"If you want it so bad, why don't you take a fucking picture?" I snarl at him.

"Are you crazy?" He looks at me with pure shock, "do you know who she is? Her family would make you disappear if something like that showed up on the net."

I fucking believe it. I always thought the Greene family was like a fucking mob and this guy just proved that I'm not the only one.

I look back in time to see Pat's head disappear between Ivy's legs and my body jerks forward of its own accord. I want to rip him out of there and smash his face into the asphalt ground. Before I can make my way to them, Ivy's fingers twist into his hair, and she yanks him away from her roughly.

"Riles," she calls out to Pat's girlfriend, keeping her eyes on Pat, and grinning from ear to ear. "Your man doesn't know how to eat pussy."

The crowd bursts out laughing and Riley stops struggling, standing still.

"I know." She replies and the crowd gasps in shock.

Pat is trying to disentangle his hair from Ivy's clutches but she's not relinquishing her hold.

"Why don't you come over here and show him how it's done?" Ivy suggests and the noise of the crowd dies on a hush.

Riley and her stilts steps forward and Pat is finally released, he whips around on a growl.

"I lost," he points a finger at his girl. "Not her."

"So?" Ivy taunts.

"Those were the terms!" He yells, "the loser gives head." It's starting to look like he lost on purpose.

"I didn't specify from whom." Ivy snarks and the crowd comes alive with laughter again.

Riley steps up to the hood of the car and Pat grabs her arm. "Let’s just go."

"I won't force you," Ivy shrugs. "I can leave here without my prize. But Pat will be banned from this night forward."

Another gasp from the crowd and Pat surges forward. Ivy doesn't even flinch as he nears her face and it's her cousin Carmelo that steps in, his neck bulging. That fucker is huge and I wouldn't fight him unless I had no fucking choice, even then I'd expect to fucking lose.

Riley shakes Pat's hand off her arm and spits at his feet, "we're fucking over."

Carmelo and this Cam dude part a path through the crowd and drag away a struggling Pat.

The crowd erupts in a chorus of ooh and aah's, just as Riley places her hands on Ivy's knees, and slowly pulls them apart. The same rush of anger comes over me and I am jarred to the spot as I realize I don't want anyone between her legs, male or female.

With her legs spread, leaning up on her elbows, Ivy watches as Riley slowly bends down towards her displayed pussy. It's possibly the prettiest pussy I have ever seen and I am overcome with jealousy towards the girl on stilts.

Just as Riley's mouth descends onto Ivy's pussy, Ivy's head tips back, and she lets out a breathless moan, causing my dick to twitch in my pants. The crowd falls to a hush again as everyone watches these girls' foreplay on the hood of the fucking car.

Ivy's hand grabs Riley's ponytail and she wraps the hair around her wrist and fist, pulling her head in closer. Riley's hands slide along the inside of Ivy's upper thighs and pushes them open wider, her tongue sinking into Ivy's core.

Riley is thorough, I'll give her that, she sucks each bit of flesh into her mouth, and then she latches onto Ivy's clit, sinking two fingers inside of her at the same time. Ivy is gyrating her hips against Riley's mouth and I watch as she lays back against the hood, moaning loudly.

The guy beside me curses and when I look over at him, he's rubbing himself through his jeans. I move away from him but I see a lot of the same and I can't fucking blame them, this shit is hot as fuck.

"Fuck." Ivy groans loudly, my attention focusing back on her and Riley.

Watching as Ivy comes apart into the mouth of another female has me both aroused and pissed off. I want her in my mouth and my hands around her throat.

"To find the value of x you would have to divide sixteen ..." Mr. O'Connor's voice is cut off by the shrill sound of the end of day bell.

Students hastily get out of their seats in a rush to get the hell out of this school and I can't fucking blame them. I, on the other hand, have detention, so I stay seated.

"I want this page finished tonight for homework." Mr. O'Connor yells at the students' retreating backs.

Then his bright blue eyes land on mine, desire is apparent, and so is frustration by the crinkle between his brows. He saunters to the door and closes it behind one lagging student.

"Ivy." His voice is rough and strained as his head presses against the wood. "How's life at home?"

"What?"

"I'm always worried about my students but after yesterday," he pushes himself away from the door and comes to perch on the edge of my desk, "after yesterday, I was left with a strong feeling that you are not okay being back here."

Is this fucker for real? Is he really going to waste my time? Mr. O’Connor is easily the hottest guy in this school and young for a teacher, just getting out of teacher’s college. His black hair faded at the sides and long on top, styled into a flipped front. His blue eyes are bright and he has two prominent dimples deep in his cheeks. His body is also trim and I wish I could be finding out just how built he is right now instead of this bullshit.

“Fuck this.” I stand abruptly from my seat and bend over to grab my bag.

“Leaving so soon?” His voice is rough and I’m shocked when I feel his fingers glide up my thigh. “I thought we could talk.”

I slowly stand and turn to face him, his fingers moving along with me, landing at mid-thigh. He stands and faces me, his face blank. I look to the front of his pants and notice a sizable bulge, making my core clench with need.

“Hands on the desk, Ivy.”

I do as he says, bending over slightly, and watch as he walks behind me. He flips my skirt up and I swallow back a moan, I’ve been needing this all day.

“Luckily, my classroom is one of the few that lock.” His fingers dance over my panties and they’re soaked. “You’re sure you want this?”

He pops the button on his jeans and drops the zipper slowly, his large cock springing forward. He runs his thumb over the tip, smearing the drop of precum into the skin, and then popping it into his mouth.

“Yes.” I finally find my voice. “Make it fucking good, too.”

He pulls my panties down to my knees and steps on them, dragging them to the floor.

“Step out of them.” I still have my eye on his large cock being stroked by his hand and swallow thickly, stepping out of my panties.

He grabs a condom out of his back pocket, rips open the wrapper, and slowly rolls it down his length.

“This is going to be fast and rough, Ivy.” He lines himself up with my opening and I feel myself clench, wanting him inside of me. “Hold on.”

Then he’s pushing himself in and I whimper at the feeling of being stretched and filled with his girth. He continues to push in and I drop to my elbows on the desk.

“Fuck.” I moan and push back against him. “Fuck, Mr. O’Connor.”

At the sound of his name, he pulls out, and slams back in, the desk skating a few inches forward. He tips my hips forward a bit further and begins a rapid rhythm of thrusts, my pussy is so wet I can feel it on my thighs.

His hand snakes around my lower stomach and his finger slips down over my mound, pressing into my clit. At the first touch, my breath catches, and I see the greying hair. My stomach rolls as I clench my eyes shut to concentrate on where I am and who’s inside of me. I need to come and chase him out of my mind.

I clench my core and groan when Mr. O’Connor’s fingers pinch my clit roughly. Stars burst behind my eyelids and my stomach tightens.

“Fuck,” I exclaim, “I’m coming.”

“Cream on my dick, little girl.” He growls and my core explodes with sensations that swim through my limbs, my vision blackening for a few seconds.

I begin to come down and look over my shoulder at Mr. O’Connor. He has his head thrown back and both hands on my hips, his teeth biting down into his fat bottom lip. His eyes are closed and I know now’s my chance.

I pull my phone out of my breast pocket and slide it across to the camera, taking a quick picture of his euphoric face, then replace it before he slams into me a final time and comes on a loud groan.

He pulls out of me and slaps me hard on the ass before bending to pick up my panties. Before he stands, he leans forward and swipes his tongue through my wet folds, making me gasp.

“Monday, detention.” He stands and tosses me my panties. “I’ll be eating this then.” He says as he sticks a finger inside me, withdraws, and sucks it into his mouth.

Fuck, he’s so hot.

I get myself dressed and head for the door without a word, throwing a grin to Mr. O’Connor over my shoulder.

When I walk into the hall, it’s practically empty with only a few students mingling, and one of which is Carmelo.

He’s standing at my locker and sporting an impressive black eye.

“Your mother and father are gonna lose their shit when they see that.” I point to the bruise as I open my locker.

“How was detention?” He deflects.

“Exhilarating.”

“There’s a party tonight down at the wharf,” he pushes off my locker so I can open it. "Coming? Or did you already do that?"

He snorts and I fight to keep the amusement out of my voice, "who's going?"

He laughs and ruffles my hair, "don't get yourself shipped off again, driving to New York every other weekend is a bitch. Cam said he's going and he's bringing Amelia."

Carmelo and Cam made the trek to New York twice a month to spend a weekend with me. My mother came every weekend but I would assume that was mostly for business with Trent.

"Fuck, he's trying to get into Amelia's pants, isn't he?" I slam my locker shut and pull my bag over my shoulder.

"I can't tell." He sounds slightly pissed off. "I usually know these things but the fucker is being mute on this one."

"That spells trouble right there." I mumble and we head out of the school.

He walks me to his car and pops a cigarette out of his jacket pocket. Carmelo is an off again, on again smoker. When he's stressed, drinking, or extremely angry, he's smoking.

"I heard Mr. O'Connor is bi and he has a partner." He says as he takes a drag.

"Like a man partner?" I ask.

"Yep." He nods.

"Then he's definitely bi."

Carmelo chokes out a laugh and soon enough I'm joining in. Only he can force away the shadows and make me laugh, even if it is for a short while.

"I'm serious, it was this shit that got you kicked out of that reform school in New York." He huffs and I roll my eyes.

He's not wrong, my English teacher Mrs. Serrano caught me fucking my science teacher... also her husband. Suffice to say that didn't go over well and here I am back in Whitsborough, completely unreformed.

"Yeah, yeah." I wave him off and get into my car. "I'll see you later."

My house is quiet when I walk inside, but I know she's home, I can feel her. I look towards her office and the shut door, letting out a sigh. She's more distant since I've been back and I can't help but feel a pang of guilt, I cause her so much stress.

No wonder she mostly ignores me.

I head to the kitchen and open the fridge, grabbing a Gatorade. Saxon and Dahlia won't be home for a few more hours since they both have after school activities, and Dad usually picks them up on his way home. So, just me and the woman whose life I ruined.

I walk down the hallway, heading back to the stairs, and look at the pictures hanging on the walls. There are a few of my Great Aunt Debra and Great Uncle Scott. I know the story of how my mother came to live here with them and it's a sad one.

Her mother-my grandmother-was a single parent raising her in New York and my mother never knew her father. This is how she knew Uncle Tommy-Cameron's father-because he was originally from New York, too. One night, her house burned down and her mother was inside. My mother was still a minor and had no other choice but to move here with her next closest family members.

Eventually, Uncle Tommy came, too. I move to the next picture of Mother and my Uncle Emmett, her twin brother. They are identical and if they were the same sex, no one would be able to tell them apart. Their story is a little more strange and doesn't completely make sense to me.

Mother and Uncle Emmett were separated at birth and they never knew the other existed until they were my age. Grandma Jenna always told me it was a complicated story but no matter how deep lies are buried, they always find a way to resurface. I never knew what she meant by that and I've always been too afraid to ask Mother for clarification.

Uncle Emmett was raised by his older brother-Carmelo's birth father-and one day found out about Mother. He immediately came here to live with her and unfortunately by then, both my great aunt and uncle were dead, again… under strange circumstances.

That's repeated often in my family's history, strange circumstances.

"Ivy," Mother's voice hits me from behind. "You're home early."

I turn with a huff and look into her eyes, exactly like mine. "High school gets out earlier."

"Right." She nods and looks up at the picture I was staring at. "Is there anything you need?"

"No." I answer quickly and move around her to head up the stairs. Standing next to her feels so fucking uncomfortable.

She doesn't say anything else but I do hear her sigh and walk back to her office. Sorry that I'm such a fucking bother.

I get inside my room and slam the door shut. I can't wait until high school is over and I can get the fuck out of this house, hell, I want the fuck out of Whitsborough, too.

The sharp November air cuts across the lake and I shiver into my jacket. The weather here in Ontario, Canada is fucking bipolar. Fall is warm up to a point and without much warning, the weather turns and it's fucking frosty. I shouldn't have worn a skirt, especially being so close to the water.

Wharf parties consist of a bunch of yachts tied together and everyone hops from one to the other. It's been just over two years since I've gone to one of these and the last one I attended was with Charlotte. My heart squeezes at the memory of her tight curls and bright brown eyes.

"My nipples could cut ice." Carmelo grumbles beside me.

"You should've worn a jacket, dumb fucker." I hit his shoulder.

I hear Cam's car pull up and huff in relief. I hate being out in the cold and he's always fucking late. I turn and watch as he steps out of the driver's seat, a grin lighting up his face.

"Fuckers!" He yells out and Carmelo snorts beside me.

"Where's your date?" Carmelo yells back. "She couldn't sneak past the parents?"

"They're having family dinner, then she's coming by." He jogs up to us.

Family dinner? Is Neil with her? Will he come by, too? The thought of seeing him again has me both excited and dreadful. I can feel myself becoming curious about us but I know he hates me and he has every fucking right to feel that way. I can barely look at him without feeling ashamed for what I've done to him and his family.

"You fuck her yet?" Carmelo asks and I groan.

"Cam," I turn on him quickly. "You can't fuck Amelia."

"I haven't!" He throws his hands up. "It's not like that, I swear."

"Ivy is the only one allowed to fuck with the Jones'." As soon as it leaves Carmelo's mouth, he looks sheepishly at me. "I meant Neil, not Charlotte."

"I didn't fuck any of them." I shrug, trying to look unaffected.

We hit the first yacht and Veronica-an old friend of mine from before I was sent away-steps forward.

"I heard you were back." She grins at me.

Veronica Hanes. Resident bad girl, all round cunt, and a bestie of mine at one time. Her and I were the resident bad girls and I was an all round cunt, still am, only I’m a loner cunt now.

“Your hearing is impeccable.” I mutter and slide past her.

“We should catch up,” she calls to my retreating back. “Amber and Tanya will want to, as well.”

There were four of us mean girls, there’s always four right? And then I tagged in Molly who the rest tolerated for me. Looks like they dumped her soon after I left though. Not that I blame them because Molly would be like that game, which one of these just doesn’t belong?

“I fucked Amber last night,” Carmelo cuts in, “she was asking me questions.”

“Oh yeah?” I grab a red cup and fill it up at the nearest keg. “Was it stuff like, does it get any bigger? Are you in yet? Did you just cum?”

“Oh fuck.” Cam snaps his fingers and laughs heartily.

“Fuck off.” Carmelo chuckles and fills his cup. “She wanted to know why you were back so late in the school year and if you had ever gone to jail.”

I should’ve gone to jail.

“Tell her Ivy broke out of jail and she’s a fugitive.” Cam snorts, “the bitch is dumb enough to believe it.”

“You shouldn’t be fucking one of them.” I chastise Carmelo. “They’ll just tell each other about your small dick and then when you try to break shit off, they’ll tell the school.”

“He fucks Veronica all the time.” Carmelo points to a gaping Cam, totally throwing him under the bus.

“Yeah?” Cam turns red, his sights landing on me. “You let Veronica’s older sister eat you out last night!”

Right.

Riley Hanes eats pussy like a fucking champ and I even got her number afterward, I wouldn’t mind repaying the favour eventually.

“Girl’s got a mouth like a Hoover, though.” I say as I take a drink.

Both guys laugh and I lose myself in time with the beat of the music, letting the warmth of the beer coat my insides.

“Thanks for coming to see us this week, Neil.” Shay smiles as she clears away the table. “How do you think you did on midterms?”

“Good.” I nod. “I studied.”

I like Shay, she keeps my dad straight, and raised my sister well.

“My boy is going to be hired by the Patriots.” My dad boasts as he downs his fourth glass of whiskey.

Once I declared my major as sport’s medicine, he hasn’t shut up about it, and most of the time his drunk ass just sounds stupid.

“I think I’m gonna head upstairs.” I look at Shay, “did you need help with the dishes?”

“No, no, I’m fine.” She heads to the dishwasher.

“I’m going out for a bit.” Amelia declares and I glare at her.

“Out where?” I demand.

“You can’t go anywhere without your brother,” Dad slurs and I try to breathe out the urge to knock him out.

“But he is so lame!” Amelia actually stomps her foot. “He doesn’t know how to have fun.”

“Exactly.” Dad nods and I growl.

“Ugh!” Amelia storms off to her room.

I stand up and dad laughs, “that fixed that.” He says it like he knew she wouldn’t want to go out with me. Fucking prick.

I ignore him and head upstairs towards our rooms. Mine and Charlotte’s rooms are on the left hand side and Amelia’s is on the right. Instead of stopping at my own, I keep on going and stand outside of Charlotte’s. We were close at one time but even I have to admit the last year of her life was different.

She and I were growing apart and at the time, I attributed that to us being into different things and maturing, but now I’m starting to realize that maybe something was up.

I open her room door and step inside. Charlotte wasn’t a regular girly girl, she liked to watch anime, she collected keychains with her name on them, and had an obsession with old eighties and nineties movies.

She decorated her walls with posters of Rihanna, Katy Perry, and Nicki Minaj, some even had hearts around the faces. No, the longer I stay in this room, the more I feel like I really didn’t know her.

“Charlotte was obsessed with Rihanna.” Amelia says from the doorway, surprising me.

“Yeah,” I raise an eyebrow. “Looks like it.”

“That summer she stayed here, the one she…you know.” Amelia stutters.

The summer she died. I nod for her to continue.

“Charlotte hated me.” She finishes.

“No, she didn’t.” I’m quick to defend my sister.

“She did.” Amelia insists. “She flushed all my body wash, cut up my new clothes, and even embarrassed me in front of my friends by calling me a lesbian.”

“What?” I shake my head. This doesn’t sound like Charlotte. “Amelia, you were young…”

“No, Neil. There was something wrong with Charlotte.” She exhales and leans against the door jamb. “I was relieved when she was gone.”

Her words come out strangled with pain and guilt. “I was happy she was dead because I knew the bullying would stop. I know that’s morbid and disgusting, but it was how I felt.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How?” She exclaims, throwing her arms wide. “You were never here anymore. You were going to start university and I hadn’t seen you in months.”

I scrub my hand down my face and let the guilt consume me for a bit. I was absent that summer to both of my sisters and that’s something I can never take back.

“Where were you planning to go tonight?” I ask her, feeling myself cave.

“Wharf party.” She smiles wide.

“Alright,” I pull her over to me, wrapping my arms around her neck. “Let’s check it out.”

She squeals and her thin arms crush me in a hug.

The music is pouring out of a long string of about ten yachts and teenagers are spilling out of everywhere with red Solo cups in their hands.

“No drinking.” I point at Amelia.

“I don’t drink.” She jumps out of my car.

That’s a relief, another thing different from Charlotte, and one less thing to worry about.

I watch as Amelia hurries ahead of me, in search of her friends, and maybe that blonde fucker that was with Ivy the other night.

Ivy.

I wonder if she’s here. Does she come to high school parties? She doesn’t seem like the type that would waste her time with catty females or too touchy guys. Fuck, what am I saying? I don’t know the bitch.

I step onto the first boat and a guy automatically offers me a red cup, I decline because I’m fucking driving, and I don’t usually drink anyways. Not for a few years now, not since Charlotte was taken from me. I shake my head to clear it of the thoughts and try to pick Amelia out in the crowd. In my search to find my sister, I find a familiar brunette a few boats over, and I lean against the side of the boat to watch her.

Ivy is alone and has a red cup in her hands-no fucking surprise-as she stares down at her phone screen. She looks angry and slightly confused as she swiftly swipes her thumb over the lit surface. Her face is slightly illuminated and I can see the gloss shining on her lips, her teeth dragging over the bottom one in frustration.

I’m hardening in my pants and I would punch myself in the fucking dick for this reaction if I knew it wouldn’t hurt so much. She still has that one prominent dimple in her left cheek. She’s wearing a black leather jacket with grey fur along the collar, a white top underneath, and a black skirt, her long ass legs on display.

She shoves her phone into her jacket pocket and exhales, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. A lot of these guys have their eye on her and I don’t fucking blame them, she’s gorgeous. None of them know what I do though, that her inside is a mess of rotting flesh, ready to destroy anyone she comes in contact with.

Why then am I tempted by it?

Finally, one of the guys watching her, gets the nerve to approach, and I watch with complete concentration. What will she do?

He taps her arm and she turns towards him, her face now fully facing me. He leans in and says something in her ear and I chuckle as her top lip curls up in disgust. She shakes her head at him and shoos him away. She literally shooed him away.

I watched her for about ten minutes and in that time, she looked at her phone twelve times. I wonder who is messaging her or what she’s waiting for. Then, another guy works up the nerve to approach her and I chuckle in anticipation. The whole time I’ve been here, she hasn’t looked at anyone with interest and I find it amusing that these guys want to risk it.

This time, she sees him coming before he even reaches her, and shakes her head at him. I throw my head back and laugh at the guy’s face, he looks so fucking dejected.

Once again she’s pulling her phone out of her pocket and staring at it with a frown on her face.

I think it’s time I find out what’s eating at Ivy now.

DEAN: Why does the Black Slaughter have me on her list, Ivy?

Dean: I told you what would happen if someone found out.

Dean: No answer?

Dean: You know the consequences.

I’m reading his messages and shocked at what he’s saying. What the fuck is a Black Slaughter? And why is he acting like I told someone? I do know the consequences and they are too steep to take the risk.

“You’re going to have premature age lines.” No way.

I look up and see Neil standing a few feet away, his arms crossed at his chest, and a baseball cap thrown backwards on his head.

He’s wearing a brown distressed leather jacket, a black shirt, and a pair of dark jeans. He looks good and I give him another once over.

“The boys are going to get jealous if they see you paying me that much attention.” He almost sounds playful and my guard automatically flies up. What the fuck does he want?

“What do you want?” I try to sound nonplussed.

“I want to know what has you looking like you want to run and hide.”

“Are you stalking me now?” I sneer at him and he chuckles darkly.

“My only sister is around here somewhere, I need to make sure she’s not in danger.” He retorts and my stomach rolls.

“Fuck you.” I snarl and turn to go inside of the yacht. I need to piss and I need to get away from him.

As soon as I walk through the small door, I feel a body close at my back, and a hand landing against my stomach. His scent curls around me, hugging me in a musky fragrance, and I lean into him.

His breath hits my ear as his mouth brushes the lobe, and I suck in a breath at the foreign feeling inside me, it's not an uncontrollable lust taking over like usual. My insides are quaking for another reason, for things I want but can't describe, and I don't want his warmth to leave me.

My legs begin to shake as I turn my face towards his, I open my mouth to speak, and his hand clamps around it, shoving me against the wall. My head slams into the fiberglass and I whimper at the brief shot of pain.

He crowds in around me, his mouth running a trail up my neck, and stopping at my ear.

"You're tempting me, bitch." His voice is harsh, "and it's pissing me off."

I try to shake my head and dislodge his hand but it's no use, his fingers only dig in tighter.

"I want to slit your fucking throat," fear races through me at his words, "but I want to be inside of you before I do it."

He presses his hips into my stomach, showing me just how bad he wants it, and I once again try to shake my head. I believe him, each word he utters, I know without a doubt is the complete truth, and it scares the shit out of me.

His tongue slips along the shell of my ear and I shiver, not from lust but from terror. I can't move my limbs and I am transported back to another time when another man held me against my will. I can suddenly smell the stench of bourbon, feel the scratch of a beard, and the large swell of a cock pressing into me.

I’m no longer on the boat with Neil, I now have book spines digging into my back, my head throbbing from the impact of the wooden shelf, and my nails finding purchase in the soft flesh of my palms.

"Are you a virgin, Ivy?" His voice attacks my ears and I feel the tears slip down my cheeks. No, not this again. I can't live this again.

I begin to shake, fear so thick, it pushes itself through me at a rapid speed, and I go limp at the feeling. My heart pumps faster and louder, drowning out any other words, and my throat begins to close around my breath.

No, this is not happening, this is not happening. I repeat in my head just as the hand leaves my mouth and the warmth I thought I wanted steps away. Someone is speaking but two worlds have collided inside my head and I can't determine one from the other.

I sink to the floor, wrapping my arms around my legs, and begin to rock. I need to forget and I need to be alone. Cold air swirls around me and I exhale the breath I've been holding, relief coursing through me.

I don't know how long I'm left here, but at some point I feel Carmelo as his arms encircle me and lift me off the ground.

"It's okay, Ivy." He whispers. "I got you."

I watch as her cousin picks her up and carries her off the boat, but not before he throws me a menacing look. No matter how hard I try, I can't stop the guilt from eating away at me, and I know I caused her to break down with my words and actions.

Something bad happened to Ivy and I want to know what the fuck it was. She's clearly battling with trauma and my curiosity won't let it go. The Ivy I knew before two years ago wasn't like this, she was tough, and she wouldn’t have folded like that.

If I knew this about her, would I have still done the same? Yeah, I would've. I can't help the rage and want that envelops me every time she's near and no matter how hard the two emotions battle it out, I'm fearful of which one will win the war.

"What's wrong with Ivy?" Amelia's frantic words hit me before she grabs my arm.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

"Neil," she whispers, "did you do something?"

I look down at my sister and she looks up at me with tears in her eyes.

"I don't think it has anything to do with Whitsborough." I tell her.

Ivy left here two years ago completely herself and without remorse for her actions, I can still see her holding her chin high as I watched her get in a limo that would take her to New York. This girl now, is traumatized, and only when she can't control the strong front she puts up.

"I'm gonna need you to get me some information." I tell Amelia as I watch Ivy being swept away by Carmelo and Cameron.

"No." She shakes her head emphatically. "I won't help you bring her down."

"Amelia, I'm not bringing anyone down." I lie through my fucking teeth. "I need to know what happened."

She stares into my face a while longer and finally nods, "fine, I'll ask Cam."

"You like this kid?" I curl my fingers into fists. The thought of my little sister once again in the clutches of that family makes me angry.

"No." She laughs and pats me on the back. "It's not like that."

"Better not be." I growl and look around.

People are gathered into small groups and the tone has become hushed. It's not everyday you see a Greene weak in this town.

I follow Amelia towards the first boat and pass a group of girls I vaguely remember from the days Charlotte and I would come here.

"The bitch has issues."

"Veronica, she looked legit sick." Another replies.

"That whole family is fucked up," Veronica snarls. "They have mountains of secrets and my nana says only money is keeping them hidden."

Well then.

My room is pitch black save for the illumination of my phone's screen. I'm under two thick blankets and I still can't chase the cold that feels bone deep.

By the time Carmelo got me home, I had finally come around and declined his offer to bring me inside. I could just imagine the fuss my dad would make. Thankfully, they were all asleep and the house was quiet when I came in.

I’m staring at these messages, trying to decipher what they mean, and praying he’s just drunk and confused. On the nights he opens the bourbon, he tends to become paranoid, and a bit abrasive. What is a Black Slaughter? And what’s her list?

I hear the creak of my bedroom door and look to see Dahlia’s little head poke in.

“Ivy?” Her little whisper floats into the room.

“Yeah, Flower?”

“Can I sleep with you?” Her little lip quivers as she hurries further into the room. “I had a nightmare.”

“Sure, baby.” I pull back my covers and watch as she launches her little body up onto the bed.

“I was afraid you left again.” She curls into my side and I nestle my face into her little brown curls.

“That was your nightmare?” I ask her as my eyes begin to burn with tears.

“That and Mommy was sad again.”

“Again?” I ask.

“When you left, Mommy cried every night.” Her little voice is soft. “Even Daddy couldn’t make her stop.”

“She cried?”

“Yes.” She nods, her curls brushing my face. “Don’t leave and make her sad again.”

“Okay, Flower.” I pull her in close. “I promise.”

“Ivy.” Dahlia’s voice filters through my sleep. “Ivy!”

“Flower, is the house burning down?”

“No!” She giggles and bounces on the bed. “You haven’t opened your eyes yet.”

“Because I don’t want to wake up yet.”

“I want pancakes,” she whispers in my ear and I snort. “And Uncle Emmett is here!”

My eyes pop open and I stare into her bright green eyes. Dahlia looks like Dad with her deep golden skin and bright green eyes. She even has his deep dimples in both cheeks.

“He is?”

“Yup!” She squeals and jumps off the bed. “I’m gonna make him make me pancakes.”

Uncle Emmett being here is slightly unsettling, he’s the chief of police, and I detest any fucking cop. I do love him, though. I just hope he’s not here because of me.

I roll out of bed and cringe when I see I still have on the clothes I wore last night. I change quickly and leave my room, heading in the direction of a squealing Dahlia.

I enter the kitchen and see not just Uncle Emmett, but Uncle Travis, too. They have a strange relationship. See? There’s that word again. Uncle Emmett, Uncle Travis, and Aunt Adri are all together. Yes, all three of them. And they have kids, too.

Uncle Emmett tosses Dahlia in the air and Uncle Travis chuckles, both not noticing me right away. They look happy and stress free, something I’m sure I’ll disrupt again.

“Ivy!” Uncle Emmett exclaims and dumps Dahlia in Uncle Travis’ lap. “Can you get any more gorgeous?”

“Hi Uncle Em.” I grin as he picks me up and twirls me around.

“It’s good to have you home, Ivy.” Uncle Travis comes over with Dahlia in his arms and hugs me.

“Everything is better now that Ivy is home!” Dahlia’s little arms strangle me.

“Thanks guys.” I grin shyly.

“Uncle Em!” Dahlia screeches and I screw up my face at the noise. “Pancakes!”

“You’re lucky your auntie Adri isn’t here to make you some.” He says and we all chuckle.

It’s no secret Aunt Adri is a terrible cook, but Uncle Emmett pokes the most fun at her for it.

“What’s going on here?” Dad’s croaky morning voice has us all giggling.

“Uncle Em and Uncle Travis are here!” Dahlia runs to him so he can swoop her up in his arms.

“I see that.” He smothers his face into her curls, much like I do.

“Ma is home from Italy tomorrow,” Uncle Travis says to him. “Rock, paper, scissors who picks her up.”

“No way, bro.” Dad exclaims. “I picked her up last time.”

“Nana Sharla is coming home?” I can’t help the sound of dismay that filters through my words.

Nana Sharla is a great woman, don’t get me wrong, but she’s tough, and likes everything her way. All of us except one lets her have it, all except Mother. She never lets Nana Sharla bowl her over and if the woman tries, Mother just shuts her down with a few words. They love each other, you can see that, but I believe Nana has that much more respect for our mother because she doesn’t back down.

The last time I saw her was this past summer when they came to visit me for my birthday. Nana Sharla bought a box of condoms and lectured me about the temptation of vile high school boys that would want to impregnate me and then leave me.

Dad had to sit me down after and explain that him and Uncle Travis shared the same father and he wasn’t a good man. There’s not much resemblance between Uncle Travis and Dad besides the green eyes. Dad is dark where Uncle Travis is light.

Thankfully, I never had to witness how terrible their father was because he died a long time ago from cancer.

“Where’s my sister?” Uncle Emmett asks.

“She’s coming.” Dad says and sits Dahlia at the table.

“E should pick up Ma.” Uncle Travis says and Dad laughs.

Uncle Travis calls Nana Sharla Ma even though she’s not because his mother died in a terrible accident when he was in high school. Nana Sharla took him in after that. My family is all twisted and somehow interconnected, I still haven’t figured it all out. I don’t think I ever will.

“What do we owe the visit, assholes?” Mother says as she walks in the kitchen.

“Mommy said a bad word.” Dahlia chastises and points to the swear jar by the fridge.

Mother is the only one that ends up filling it and I can’t help the grin that comes over my face at her dismay.

“Shit.” She whispers.

“Heard that one, too.” Dahlia whispers back and I can’t help the laugh that escapes my belly.

Mother looks at me with surprise at first but it quickly morphs into amusement.

“I’m never going to learn.” She sighs. “How much do I owe the bank of Dahlia this time?”

“Five dollars.” Dahlia rubs her hands together.

“Five dollars?!” Mother exclaims.

“And Daddy wants you to pick up Nana Sharla from the airport.” Dahlia throws in and I am once again laughing at the look on my mother’s face.

“Like Hell.” She says and Dahlia is wiggling in her seat.

“Mommy has a potty mouth, but it makes me rich.”

Everyone laughs and Uncle Emmett begins to stack up the pancakes.

“Ivy, how does it feel to be back?” Uncle Travis asks.

That’s what I love about my family, they don’t judge, and even though I came home under undesirable circumstances, they would never rub it in my face.

“Not hanging out with teachers I hope.” Uncle Emmett chimes in.

Nevermind, I take it back, they will totally rub it in my face.

“That teacher is lucky he was just fired.” Mother snarls. “I had bigger plans.”

“I can’t believe he’s still breathing.” Uncle Emmett snorts.

“The verdict is still out, he took advantage of a minor.” My mother says.

“I’ll be eighteen in like six months, Mother.” I shake my head.

“What did Ivy do?” Dahlia asks, her eyes wide with innocence.

“Ivy decided to grow up too fast.” Dad shoots me a look and I roll my eyes.

“I’m glad.” Dahlia nods as syrup runs down her chin. “I wanted her home.”

I feel a lump work its way up my throat at her words and my eyes fill quickly before I can hold them back, the tears spilling down over my cheeks. I’ve always felt like the outsider in my own family, the one being watched, and always causing stress. So, to hear one of them say I’m wanted brings out emotions I’ve tried to bury.

“I need to go get some homework done.” I turn quickly before anyone can see the tears.

“Pancakes!” Uncle Emmett calls out but I’m already halfway to the stairs.

“Ivy,” Charlotte breaks the silence, “do you ever want to get married?”

“What?” Here I am so fucking drunk, missing my grandma, and this is what she wants to talk about.

“Do you want to get married?”

“I don’t know.” I mumble.

“I want to get married.” She sounds like she’s sulking.

“Cool.”

“Why do you only kiss me when we’re alone?” She asks and I groan into my hands.

“Charlotte!” I yell into the car. “I can’t do this right now!”

My fucking grandma just died! What the fuck is wrong with her?

I roll down my window to let the cool air hit my face, I’m angry and I know this night is about to go downhill.

“I know.” I hear her sniff and lock my jaw with irritation. “I just need to know what we are.”

“We’re buddies that like to make out.” I snap and then cringe when I hear her intake of breath. That was harsh.

“That’s it?”

“I can’t think about this right now.” I shake my head. “I really can’t.”

I asked her to get me out of the house to take my mind off of shit but instead I’m having to hear more drama.

“You’re not worth it!” She screams and pounds her hand into the steering wheel. “You never really cared!”

I wake up in a cold sweat, the droplets running down my spine, and dripping off my jaw. It’s been a while since I’ve dreamt of Charlotte and it always feels so fucking real, like I’m right back there in that car with her.

I wish life were like that, that you could choose when and where to go back and fix all your fuck ups, Charlotte was my life’s catalyst of fuck ups. I wish with everything in me that I could go back and reverse what happened that night.

My phone pings through my dark room and I reach for it off my nightstand. As soon as I see the name on the screen, my heart stops, and then gallops against my ribcage. Swiping open the phone opens the message instantly and I freeze when I see a video. My hand shakes as I press play.

“Turn around.” His voice is loud in my silent bedroom.

It’s me in the video and I am completely naked, my hair hanging to mid back in messy waves. I do as he says and turn, my upper thighs to my chest visible on the screen.

“Touch yourself.”

I remember exactly how I felt at this point, drunk and slightly confused as to why I was doing as the old fucker said, and I wish I could even go back to this point and punch him in the face, changing the course of our relationship.

But that’s not how life works, instead we are bound by our past decisions, and forced to live a future of consequences.

I watch as my hand shakily finds my mound and I slip them through my folds, dry as they were. I was too afraid to feel anything and being a virgin, I was naive to his intentions.

The video cuts out and I’m left looking at the screen in terror. What is he planning for me? Why the fuck is he sending me this?

I drop my phone beside me in the bed and try my hardest not to crumble, not to give into the desire to end it all and try to think of Flower. She asked me not to leave again and I promised her I wouldn’t.

I have yet to message him back and ask what’s going on. I’m playing the avoidance game but seeing how he’s escalating, I’m not sure how much longer I can let it continue. I wish I could turn to someone with this, but I can’t. I can’t let anyone know what happened in New York and in the end, I always felt like I deserved it.

It’s just after midnight on Sunday and I can’t lay here any longer. My heart is racing with anxiety and if I don’t get the fix I need soon, I know things will only get worse.

I pull up my phone and scroll to the name I’m hoping will want to see me.

Me: Meet me at the strip.

It’s dark at the strip since the street lights have long been removed. I’m waiting in my car, my stomach rolling, and my knees twitching. I’ve been holding a spliff in my hand for the last ten minutes, debating on smoking it now to take the edge off, or saving it for later when I want to extend my relief.

The choice is made for me when I see another set of headlights illuminating the road ahead. Later it is. The car pulls up next to mine and I roll down my window, watching as the driver in the other car rolls down theirs too.

“I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.” I grin.

“I almost didn’t.” Riley smirks back. “But curiosity got the better of me.”

“Get over here.” I nod my head towards my passenger seat and watch as she gets out of her car.

Riley is gorgeous, there’s no better way to describe her, the whole Hanes family is. Her hair shines like a golden sun, her skin is bronzed, and her face is exquisite. She looks like a sinful cherub.

She gets in my car and her perfume immediately cloys the air with a scent of cupcakes. We stare at each other for a while and I feel the corners of my mouth begin to rise with hers.

“I don’t know how to do this.” She shakes her head.

“Do what?”

“Be with a girl.” She looks at me through her lashes.

I lean across the seat and clasp her chin in my hand, “don’t think about it so hard.” I whisper against her lips.

I pull her the rest of the way to me and kiss her softly at first, not wanting to scare her off. She’s wearing some sort of fruity Chapstick and I lick across her lips to taste more of it. Her mouth opens wider and I take that opportunity to kiss her harder, deeper. She moans and I grin into her mouth as my other hand cups her full breast.

“Take your shirt off.” I say, my lips still touching hers.

She pulls back and lifts her shirt over her head, displaying her round tits in a demi bra. Her nipples peek out over the edge, pink and tightened points begging for my mouth.

“I’m going to need you in the backseat.” I husk out.

She blushes a pretty pink and gets out, shutting the door. She gets into the backseat and I get out to follow her. My mouth salivates to taste her and I know my patience with being tender isn’t going to last long.

I open the door and see her sitting there, tits looking fucking delectable, her hands in her lap.

“Lay down.” I sound hard, abrasive but I’m barely keeping it together. I need to fuck the shit out of this girl.

She does as she’s told and lays down, her shoes dangling out my side. I begin to pull off her shoes, tossing them on the floor, and reach up to undo her jeans. Her stomach is toned and I vaguely remember Riley being a cheerleader in Precious Blood, I wonder if she still is at college. I pull her jeans down her legs and moan when I see she’s not wearing any underwear.

“Were you planning on killing me tonight?” I groan.

“Honestly? I didn’t think we’d get this far.” She whispers.

I spread her legs open and crawl in between them. It’s a tight fit in the backseat and if anyone decided to come here tonight, they’d see everything. My fingers spread open her pussy and her scent wafts into my face, her arousal so fucking sweet. She wants me and I’m about to show her how good a girl can eat pussy.

“You’re wet for me, Riley.” I taunt as I blow warm air on her.

She whimpers and scoots her ass closer to my face, wanting more. I slowly run my tongue from her entrance to the tight bundle of nerves and back again.

“Fuck.” She whispers, her fingers slipping into my hair.

I slide my tongue inside of her, the warmth enveloping me, and her musk potent in my mouth. I fuck her slowly with my tongue, listening to her pant, and finding that spot inside of her, flicking against it a few times.

“Fuck.” She pants out and I pull out of her.

I replace my tongue with three fingers, slamming them inside of her, and grinning when her back arches off the seat as she screams my name. I suck her clit into my mouth and lash my tongue across it, still pumping rapidly into her.

I bite down on her clit and she comes hard, her pussy clamping around my fingers and her juices soaking my hand. She’s screaming my name and pushing my face deeper into her folds.

“Oh my god,” she continues to moan as I pump in and out of her slowly. “That was amazing.”

I pull my fingers out of her and lick her come off of them. Running my tongue salaciously between each one, she tastes like the heaven she looks like she came from.

“I want to taste you again, Ivy.” She sits up and practically pushes me out of the car.

She stands up, her bare feet on the cold pavement, and her body erupts in goosebumps.

“You need to put clothes on.” I tell her.

I pull off my sweater and hand it to her, she pulls it on and reaches out to grab a hold of my breast through my tank top. I’m so fucking happy I didn’t wear a bra. She pinches my nipple between her fingers and I bite into my lip, trying not to grab her throat.

“I want your pants off, Ivy.” She says and I feel myself soaking through them.

I drop my pants right then and there, in the middle of the fucking strip, and in the freezing cold. But I can’t feel the sting of the cold as much as the heat building between my legs.

I crawl into my back seat and feel the clap of a slap landing across my ass cheek. I look over my shoulder and see Riley staring at my ass, her bottom lip crushed between her teeth. I flip onto my back and spread my legs open wide.

“Hurry up.” I snarl and her eyes widen, “or else I’m going to punish you.”

She rushes forward and I watch as her blonde head disappears between my legs. When I feel the first swipe of her tongue, I lay back and exhale, this is exactly what I needed.

It’s been almost two months since I was in Whitsborough and I am on my way back there again. This Christmas is Dad’s turn and even though I offered to stay home, my mom would hear none of it. I know it’s a hard time for her and faking happiness is fucking draining, I get it. I know she would rather wallow in her pain and think of her daughter, not cooking and singing carols around the house.

I’ve spoken to Amelia over the phone at least once a week but I have yet to ask her what she’s found out for me about Ivy. I wish I could say I haven't been thinking about her, that her tortured face hasn’t been popping into my head constantly, and that thinking about her no longer comes with murderous thoughts.

Don’t get me wrong, I still fucking hate her, and I want her to pay for what she’s done, but I also want to unearth all her secrets. Maybe there are a few I could use to make her disappear back to New York and far away from what’s left of my family.

I pull into my dad’s driveway and kill the engine. It snowed a lot the last few days and everything is coated with a thick layer of the white shit. I hate snow, I hate the cold, and I hate Whitsborough. I get out and groan when the snow comes up above my boots, the cold, wet powder slipping inside.

Just as I turn around, I am blasted in the face with a ball of the shit.

“What the fuck?” I exclaim.

“Welcome back, big brother.” Amelia calls out as I clear the snow out of my eyes.

“You’re done.” I grin and chase after her.

She screams and tries to run back to the front door, only to slip and fall on her ass. I begin to howl with laughter and slip right beside her, landing on my back. Both of us are laughing so hard and when she sits up, I grab a handful of the stuff, slipping it inside of her sweater.

“Neil!” She squeals and stands to shake out the snow, only to slip back down again.

“You two are going to catch a cold out here.” Shay calls out from the door, a wide smile on her face. “How was the drive, Neil?”

Amelia and I get up, dusting off our asses, and carefully tread it back to the house.

“The drive wasn’t too bad.”

“Come on in and get some cocoa.” She says and steps aside for us.

Thank god for Shay, otherwise I would have my father’s blood on my hands, and only my mother left as family. She somehow puts up with him and for that alone I am grateful. Then she gave us Amelia and I grew to love her for it.

“Son!” My father’s booming voice calls from the TV room. “Get in here.”

Shay looks behind her shoulder towards his voice and then back to me with a small smile.

“He’s missed you.” Her voice is soft.

“Yeah.” I nod.

“I’ll make cocoa,” Amelia heads to the kitchen, “you say hi to Dad.”

I head to the family room and find him immersed into a football game, a bottle of whiskey beside him. I don’t know how he functions enough to work and I get the feeling the Greenes keep him around out of pity.

“Son, come watch the game.” He pats the couch cushion beside him.

I sit down further down the couch and watch the game in silence, he never actually wants to talk to me. Amelia comes into the room and her brow lifts at the silence. She hands me a cup of hot chocolate and sits between us.

“How has school been?” She asks me and dad finally looks at me.

“Good.” I nod and sip the warm chocolate. “How about you?”

“It’s been okay,” her head dips and I know she’s lying.

I let it be for now because I know she doesn’t like to upset Dad and have him storm the school. He’s an embarrassment nowadays.

I finish the cocoa and stand, “I’m gonna go get settled.”

“Dinner is at eight.” Dad says, his eyes never straying from the TV.

“Cool.” I nod at Amelia, “come help me.”

We head upstairs and I pause slightly at Charlotte’s door before moving on down to my own. I can’t lose sight of what I need to do, no matter how attractive my target is, and how intrigued I am by her.

Amelia follows me in and crashes on top of my bed, “look,” she starts, “everything is fine.”

“Spit it out.”

“Neil…”

“Amelia.” I stare down at her. “Spit. It. Out.”

“I’m just upset about something stupid and I’ll get over it. I see it everyday at school and it pisses me off.” She huffs, but I don’t miss the way her face loses colour. “I just can’t tell you.”

“Are you being bullied?” I ask as I sit beside her.

“No,” she shakes her head, “trust me Neil it’s not that bad, really.”

“As long as you aren’t hurt or anything.” I tell her.

“Nothing physical, no.”

“Is it a guy?”

“No.” She sighs and I begin to see what’s happening.

“Is it that Cam guy? Did he get another girlfriend or something?” I would kill the fucker if he used my sister in any way.

“No!” She looks at me wide eyed. “I told you, me and him aren’t like that.”

Her phone pings with a message and she pulls it out. I see the notification on her lock screen, Veronica Hanes.

“Who is that?” The name sounds familiar.

“A girl from school.” She shrugs, “she’s been really nice to me and I’ve started hanging out with her group.”

“Be careful,” I tell her. “Well, what does she want? Are you guys going to make a burn book or something?”

“Please tell me you did not just reference Mean Girls.” She rolls her eyes.

“Charlotte made me watch it.” I shrug and laugh.

“Charlotte had a crush on Rachel McAdams.” She huffs and I laugh.

“Who didn’t?”

She snorts and opens her phone, reading the message, and a large grin takes over her face.

“What?”

“There’s a party tonight at Veronica’s and we have to go.” She stands and does a little jump.

“No thanks, I’m not going to another high school party.” I shake my head.

“Perfect.” She claps her hands, “Veronica’s sister Riley is throwing it and she goes to college.”

“Hell no!” I shake my head again, “you’re not going to a college party.”

“Neil!” She stomps her foot, “do you ever have fun?”

Her words hit me in the chest and I absorb them slowly. I do try to have fun but the truth is, I’m focused on my future, and I promised my mom I wouldn’t disappoint her, I’m all she has left. Studying is important and partying, not so much, besides, I partied enough through high school.

Maybe if Charlotte had me with her on her partying nights, shit wouldn’t have happened, and just maybe she’d still be here. I look at Amelia, her eyes large and round, and for a split second I see Charlotte, begging me to come to Dad’s with her.

“Okay, fine.” I give in. “No drinking.”

“I don’t drink!” She exclaims.

The house is indeed thumping with music and fucking large. I know this neighbourhood because the Greenes live not too far from here and I look around the line of cars to see if a M5 is visible.

I can’t deny I want to see her and I can’t deny I want to find out everything about her. I follow Amelia inside the monstrous house and cringe when I hear the loud shrill of pop music. It’s not too late into the night but some people look completely inebriated while others look tipsy at most, and I can smell the cloying scent of marijuana.

“Amelia!” I look to the sound and see the girl I remembered from the wharf party.

“Hey Veronica.” Amelia gestures to me, “this is my brother Neil.”

Veronica gives me a once over and grins at me. No way, little girl.

“Hi, Neil.” Her voice becomes husky.

“Yeah… no.” I shake my head and walk towards the kitchen. I see a couple kegs in there and a few dudes my age.

“He’s hot.” I hear Veronica say to Amelia.

Fucking Jailbait.

Am I that much older than her? No. I’ll be twenty in a few months and even though it’s just a couple of years, maturity is a big thing, and I have way more of it.

“Who’s this Dean?”

I stop at a slightly opened door and see long blonde hair swinging back and forth.

“No one, Riles.” Ivy.

“He’s constantly messaging you, who the fuck is he, Ivy?”

“Someone in New York. He’s in the past.” Ivy sounds pissed.

“Then why is he messaging you!” Riley yells.

Why are they fighting like a couple? Wait. Are they a couple? I know what I saw that night at the strip but that was just a bet, right?

“It doesn’t matter,” Ivy’s voice is low and I can hear the anger buried in it.

“Let me see them then.” Riley sounds petulant.

“No.”

“If you don’t show me the messages,” Riley’s voice becomes shrill, “then we’re over.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart?” Ivy’s voice drops and the seduction in her words has me hardening in my pants.

“Yes,” Riley does not sound sure. “I mean it this time.”

“Then you have a nice life.” Wow, she’s fucking harsh. Then again, I already knew that because she killed my fucking sister.

The door swings open and reveals a crying Riley as she pushes by me. I look into the small washroom just as Ivy sits on the closed toilet and pulls a baggie of weed out of her pocket.

As if sensing someone watching her, Ivy lifts her head, and those Caribbean Sea blue eyes meet mine. For someone who just suffered a break up, she looks pretty nonplussed, again, not surprised.

“Wow,” she breathes, her voice sarcastic. “Neil Jones back in Whitsborough.”

She pulls out rolling papers and her tongue glides along the thin material, making my dick twitch in my jeans.

“In or out, loser.” She says as she sticks two papers together, “I don’t need to share this with others.”

Maybe one day I will have the exact reason why I went in instead of walking by, but I don’t have it today.

“So, Riley is your girlfriend?” I snort.

“Was. You heard most of it,” she looks up at me with her brow raised. “Are you a homophobe, too?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Sounds like it, Neil Jones.” Her voice is taunting. “Shut the door, I need a good seal in here.”

Again, I do the opposite of what I should be doing and close the door, locking it. I watch her spark a lighter and bring the flame to the tip of her spliff, the cherry burning bright red under the heat. She takes a deep inhale and coughs, holding it out to me.

“No thanks.” I shake my head.

“You know it’s going to get filled with smoke in here, right? I’m hotboxing the bathroom. You will get high.”

I look down at the knob and I hear her tsk behind me.

“Can’t leave now pretty boy.” I hear her inhale again. “You’ll break my seal.”

“Why’d your girlfriend break up with you?” Might as well get some answers while I’m in here.

“Because of some guy messaging me. Girls are jealous things.” She leans back on the toilet.

She’s wearing tight black jeans, rips strategically placed at the knees and upper thighs, and she has on a baggy black hoodie. Her hair is down in messy waves, the deep red hues shining under the vanity light, and her face void of makeup. Even without makeup, Ivy is a fucking stunner.

“An ex-boyfriend?”

She looks up at me and grins as she stands from the toilet. She takes her time, leisurely making her way to me, and taking a long drag on the spliff. She steps right up to me and we are nearly eye to eye, her forehead just at my chin. I like that she’s tall for a girl, it’s always been something I liked about her. Fuck. I try to clear my head of those thoughts but it’s a bit foggy from inhaling the potent smoke.

She lifts her face and I bend mine, neither of us stepping away, and our mouths just centimeters apart.

“Open your mouth.” Her voice sounds weird as she continues to hold her breath.

Again, I do the opposite of what I should and open my mouth for her. She exhales a long plume of smoke and I suck it in, eager to take whatever she’s giving me. Her lips curl up as she blows out the rest and I hold my breath, the smoke settling in my lungs.

Her mouth is still so close to mine, neither of us moving, and her eyes searching mine.

“Why do you keep finding me, Neil?” She asks. “Why are you asking about my love life? And why are you in this washroom with me?”

All valid questions and yet none I want to answer. Her lips brush against mine and then she’s reaching behind me to unlock the door, opening it suddenly.

“Get out, Neil.” She snarls and turns her back on me.

Her sudden change in demeanor snaps me out of whatever hold her venom had on me, and I do exactly what she says, slamming the door behind me. I wish I could just slap the shit out of myself right now because I have no explanation for why I let her do these things to me. I fucking hate her.

I look around and Amelia is standing with a group of girls, Veronica is in the center. They really do resemble the fucking Mean Girls as they glare at everyone around them. I’m happy she’s not being bullied but if I find out she’s bullying anyone, I will be just as pissed.

I hear the washroom door open behind me and the strong scent of marijuana circles once again around my head. I hear a loud fake laugh come from the kitchen and see Riley hanging off a guy's arm. He looks like a footballer, tall and wide.

“Who’s down for a game of suck and blow?” She calls out, her gaze zeroes in on Ivy.

Ivy pushes past me and into the kitchen, “down.” She states and hops up onto the island, plopping her ass there and swinging her legs.

I walk into the kitchen and Amelia and her group of Mean Girls rushes by giggling. I’m not playing this juvenile game but I’m not leaving my sister here and risking some guy taking advantage of her.

I watch as Riley pulls a credit card out of her purse and sucks it against her mouth. Ivy turns slightly and watches her, looking uninterested as her girlfriend-or is it ex now?-turns to the guy beside her. The guy leans forward and just as he’s about to suck the card from her mouth, Riley lets it go and crushes her mouth into his. I roll my eyes at the obvious attempt to make Ivy jealous but I can see it doesn’t work. She watches uninterestedly as the two suck each other’s face off.

The guy finally detaches himself from Riley’s clutches with a chuckle and picks up the card, sucking it to his mouth. He leans over to Ivy on the island and she leans forward to suck the card, only the fucking loser plays the same dumb move Riley did, and drops the card. Instead of getting a kiss, Ivy shoves him back, and rolls her eyes. I exhale relief and once again want to slap the shit out of myself for it, I don’t care who she kisses.

She picks up the card, holds it to her mouth, and suctions it on. Her eyes twinkle with mischief as she hops down from the table and starts in my direction. My heart picks up and I feel myself hardening at the thought of her invading my space, maybe fucking dropping that card. I’m surprised when she bypasses me and stands in front of Amelia.

Amelia blushes a bright red, giggles, and slowly leans forward. I’m holding my breath, my hands steadily curling into fists, and my teeth clench tight. Why is she involving my sister?

Just as my sister’s lips touch the card, Ivy reaches up and pulls the card out from between them, throwing it to the floor. The next second her lips are on Amelia’s and she’s crowding her against the wall. Ivy’s hands slap the wall by my sister’s head and Amelia’s hands land on Ivy’s ass.

I’m momentarily shocked as I hear Amelia moan and her fingers grip into Ivy’s ass. What the fuck? I’m broken from my shock as Riley comes across the kitchen, a scream erupting from her mouth as she grabs Ivy’s hair, pulling her off Amelia. Ivy begins to laugh maniacally as she slaps Riley’s hands off of her and licks her lips.

“Baby Jones,” she purrs. “Your kisses are like pure sin.”

“Get out of my house!” Riley screams at no one in particular but I take that opportunity to do just that.

I grab my sister’s hand and haul her towards the front door.

“No wait, Neil.” Amelia tugs on her hand.

“We’re leaving.” I snap.

Anger pulses through my body and I can’t really figure out who it’s for. My sister who just devoured the set of lips I’ve always wondered about or the fact that Ivy blatantly acted like I didn’t exist. Fuck, maybe a mixture of both.

We get outside and I drag her to the car, she’s long since stopped trying to fight me, and instead lets me push her in the passenger side. I get in the car and look at her.

She has her head down and is staring at her nails, clearly avoiding me.

“What the fuck was that?” My voice vibrates.

“A kiss?” She looks at me, her eyes widening on my face. “Are you mad?”

“Why the fuck are you kissing Ivy Greene, Amelia?”

“Because I like her.” She sounds small.

“Okay?” I throw my hands up, “but kissing her?”

“I like her.”

Oh fuck.

I fucked up.

I know Amelia Jones has been crushing on me for a few weeks now and I’ve ignored it for a few reasons. One, I was dating Riley, or at least trying to. Two, she’s young and I couldn’t be too sure how she was feeling, and three, Charlotte. She reminded me too much of her sister and I wanted none of it.

But I fucked that all up tonight.

She’s been watching me and Riley for weeks. Riley would pick me up at school and Amelia would be there, Riley would come bring me lunch, and I would catch Amelia staring. I could see she was jealous but I chalked it up to just being curious, nothing serious, until tonight. I learned differently tonight and I fucked it all up.

Why did I have to go and kiss Amelia Jones? Oh, right, I wanted to piss her brother off, and now I’m the bitch that used a young girl’s feelings for my own gain… again.

Riley kicked me out of her house about an hour ago and I’ve been walking around aimlessly, not wanting to go home. My house has been bustling with my family being excited for the holidays and it’s depressing me even more. I hate the holidays, I hate the snow, and I hate Whitsborough, but here I am walking through it all.

My phone had been quiet for about a week, no unwanted messages, and I was just starting to move on, hoping he was over it. Until tonight, he sent me another video, and I am just too scared to open it. Maybe him being home with his family triggered his need to torment me, because that’s what he liked to do, torment me. I don’t think he’ll ever stop and I don’t know what to do. I could change my number but then I’m so afraid he’ll find another way to deliver his messages.

When my feet begin to grow numb from the cold and snow, I decide to start for home. It’s well after midnight and everyone should be asleep. They should also be caring about where their daughter is but seem content with my simple text responses.

Where are you? Out.

When will you be home? Later.

Are you okay? Yeah.

That’s all they need to be able to sleep at night, or call themselves parents, and conveniently brush me aside. I’m the unwanted teen pregnancy, remember?

I get to my house and stop in my tracks when I see an unfamiliar car. It’s a car you wouldn’t normally see around here, it looks like a Civic, and yes I know how pretentious that sounds but facts are facts.

The driver’s side door opens and a tan Timberland boot steps out onto the asphalt. Then I see his head and I am both relieved and anxious as to why he’s here. He closes his door and leans against his car, waiting for me to go to him, and I can either suck it up and do it, or freeze in the cold.

I cross the street and walk straight to him, forcing a brave exterior that doesn’t even closely resemble my trembling insides. He’s still in the same clothes as the party and it reminds me how close I came to kissing him in that bathroom, and again in that kitchen, but thankfully both times I remembered he hates me.

I stop a foot in front of him and lift my brow. What the fuck are you doing here, Jones? His arm reaches forward and he fists my jacket in his hand, turning us around then slamming me into his car. My back absorbs the impact and then the warmth of his body presses into my front.

“Why Amelia?” He asks.

“Because I’m an asshole.”

“Why Amelia?” He shakes me a bit and I can see the conflict in his features.

Neil Jones hates me but Neil Jones wants me, too. He’s pissed I’ve wormed my way into his sister’s life but he’s also pissed I didn’t try it with him. I can see everything.

I lift my hands and press them into his warm cheeks, the rough scratch of stubble scrapes my palms.

“I’m sorry.”

He has to know I don’t just mean for Amelia and that those two words are all I have to offer him, I can’t bring Charlotte back.

His eyes search mine, slowly losing their fire, and filling with moisture. I know I took something from him that can never be replaced, that void he’s filling is vast, and forgiveness can never be in the cards. But he still deserves to hear it from me, regardless of how he perceives it, and they aren’t just words to me, they are boulders of pain.

His forehead falls and connects with mine, our breaths mingling in puffs of white. I feel his jaws flex beneath my hands and rub my fingers along their sharpened edge. Neil is beautiful.

We stay like that for a while, him letting me feel his pain, and me letting it connect with my own, I wish I could take it all. I stand to my tippy-toes and he pulls back slightly, his brows coming together in confusion. I tip my mouth up and press my lips into the corner of his mouth, he stiffens and drops his fist from my jacket.

“I’ll stay away from Amelia.” I tell him as he steps away.

He just nods, there are no words needed, and he knows I mean what I say. I slide out from between him and his car and walk towards my gate, my heart heavier with each step. Something just shifted and I feel like no matter what I do going forward, I will forever be connected to Neil Jones.

I chance a look at him over my shoulder and he’s still standing there in the same spot, looking at the ground, and his fingers touching the spot my mouth did.

What happens now?

“Where were you last night?” I ask Carmelo as he lays across my bed.

“I had a prior engagement.” He grins and his busted lip begins to bleed again.

“I can tell by your face.”

“You should see the other guy.” He chuckles.

“I actually should, are you sure you’re winning?”

“I need to take a few hits to get my blood pumping and then it’s all red.” He snaps his fingers. “How was the party?”

“Riley and I broke up.” I roll my eyes.

“Don’t look too banged up about it. Were you even really dating?”

“I think so.” I shrug.

“You’re still fucking your math teacher.” He raises a bandaged brow. “Shouldn’t you be exclusive?”

“We didn’t set terms.”

“I think when you find the right one, you’ll know it. Riley was just something to pass your time.” He pats my leg and stands up. “Your mother has been nagging me to let her teach me how to fight.”

“Probably because she thinks you’re losing.” I wave to his busted face.

My mother is a trained MMA fighter, my Uncle Trent in New York is her trainer, and she still leaves some weekends to fight there. I have never seen her fight and I don’t think I would want to, I don’t know how I would take it watching someone try to hurt her.

“Your mother is a vicious fighter,” he grins. “I saw videos.”

“She’s vicious.” I nod.

“Anything else happen last night?”

I fall back to the bed with a groan, “I hotboxed Riley’s bathroom…”

“Nice…”

“With Neil.”

“What?!” Carmelo’s exclaims.

“And then made out with Amelia.”

“Holy fuck!” He laughs and sits back on the bed. “How do you manage all this drama?”

“The Jones family will not leave me alone. They keep finding me.”

“Some would call that fate.” He stands again. “I need to get home and clean my face.”

“Your parents are gonna trip.” I chuckle.

“Or just call me a Torres.” He shrugs. “Like father like son, I guess.”

Not only was he named for his father, looks like his father, and acts like his father, but he’s reminded every day that he will never know the man. It breaks my fucking heart and I would assume makes him the way he is.

“I’ll see you in a few days.” He says as he heads to the door.

Right, Christmas. I nod and watch as he leaves, a slight limp in his gait.

I reach for my phone and open up the messages. I see the video there and my heart begins to pound. I need to open it and get it over with, then I need to contact him and find out what the fuck is going on.

I press on the triangle and the video begins to play. I see myself face down on his large oak desk and my hands are bound behind my back with his tie. Once again, I am completely naked. He liked to do this to me, tie me up, and take advantage of me.

The video zooms in on my exposed ass and pussy, my body shaking with fear. His large hand slaps my ass cheek and I can hear myself sob quietly. A tear slips down my cheek as I watch myself just a little over a year ago, being held against my will, and awaiting the punishment I knew was coming.

By this time, I knew the patterns, and just how he would ensnare me, I was utterly alone. I had no one to call and help me, because my family name was too important to sully. How could I expose this and keep my family out of it? My dad would kill him and then we would be known as a family of murderers.

No, I had to keep my mouth shut and endure it. I deserved it after all.

“Tell me Ivy,” his voice low and barely distinguishable. “Are you ready to be punished?”

“Yes.” My little voice shakes with terror.

The video stops but the memory doesn’t. That was the first time he spread my ass cheeks and fucked me there. I couldn’t sit for a week and during it all I barely protested, because I fucking deserved it.

My body begins to vibrate and I know if I don’t repress this shit now, I will need something extra to do it. Riley isn’t here to help with that anymore and I have no one else in this little fucking town. Besides my math teacher, I don’t know his number, and I really don’t think he’d appreciate a call during the holidays.

Neil quickly enters my mind but I shake it away, he would never want to touch me unless it was to kill me, and at this point, I’d let him.

I jump out of my bed and pace the room, I need to do something. My hands begin to get numb and my heart begins to skip out of my chest. I begin to smell stale bourbon and cigar smoke, feel sweaty palms on my body, and then the smell of sour sweat. I retch into my hand and try to breathe but it’s no use.

I run to my washroom and open the drawer, thankfully my family stays the fuck away from me, making hiding drugs in here easy. I pull out a small baggie of pills that’s been in here for well over two years, and tip out two white ones. I quickly pop them in my mouth and then swallow them down dry.

Please hurry, I beg them to work fast.

“Ivy?”

I groan and stuff my face further into my pillow.

“Ivy, I brought you some cereal. It’s the only thing I know how to cook.” Dahlia whispers.

I crack open an eye and see that it’s once again dark outside, I slept the whole fucking day. My stomach growls loudly and I turn to face my favourite Flower.

“Cereal?” I ask, my voice cracking.

“Sorry, it’s the only thing I can cook.” She repeats and my heart flips. I love this little girl with my whole soul.

“Thank you, Flower.” I reach for the bowl. “What’s everyone doing?”

“Sax and Daddy are playing chess and Mommy is gone for the night. Do you think she went to buy our Christmas gifts?” Her eyes widen with excitement.

“Probably.” I nod.

“Hey Dahlia,” Dad’s voice breaks up our convo. “Can you go downstairs and make sure Saxon isn’t crying too much about losing to his pop?”

“Okay!” She squeals and runs out of my room screaming Saxon’s name.

“Ivy,” Dad comes in and shuts the door behind him. “I need to know what’s going on.”

My mouth dries and my limbs stiffen as I begin to fear he knows things.

“About what?” I whisper.

“With you.” He sits on the bed and pats my leg. “We’ve been giving you your space but I’m thinking that’s not the right route.”

“I don’t understand.” I shake my head.

“You’ve been shutting us out since you got home, we let you because we know life has been tough. But you need to talk to us kiddo, we love you.”

Dad is always the one that comes for these I love you talks, always trying to get me to open up, and my heart wrenches for him because they never work. I can’t open up to him, I can’t tell him what my actual fucking problems are, and at the end of the day, if he knew the real me with all my fucking issues… would he love me still?

“Sorry,” I nod and avoid his eyes. “After what happened at that school and how I got kicked out, I’ve been ashamed.”

“Why did that happen? Why would you let a teacher take advantage of you?”

“He didn’t.” I finally look at him because my next words are the truth. “I took advantage of him, Dad.”

“Do you have a problem with sex?”

“What?” My heart picks up again. “No!”

“You can’t have sex with married men, Ivy. You shouldn’t be having sex at all, I was your age once and I understand all too well, but you cannot have sex with married men.”

How do I explain that my need for sex stems from the man who took advantage of me for two years? How do I tell him that I have come to need the release sex gives me to forget the man that used it to harm me?

“I liked him, Dad.” I shrug. “I now realize it was wrong.”

“You're lucky your mother didn’t kill him.” He gives me a look, his green eyes twinkling with mirth.

“She’d be in jail.” I grin.

“You’d be surprised with what she can get away with.” He winks.

“Because of our money?”

“Because of how smart she is, just like you, baby girl.” He taps my nose. “Now liven up because the holidays are here and I need help with Saxon.”

“Dad,” I groan, “Saxon needs a therapist.”

“So did your Uncle Emmett but he turned out fine.” He fluffs my hair and gets up. “Mom is back tomorrow, let’s try and have a family chat.”

“Okay.”

Family chat is the code name for nuclear war.

The family chat did happen, the next day which just so happened to be Christmas Eve, and it needed to happen because we were having every family member in this house for the night.

“All I’m saying is that if we’re allowed to bone teachers, do I have to have a good reason?” We’re sitting at the kitchen table and Saxon is looking to be murdered.

“What’s boned?” Dahlia asks and I drop my head to the table with a groan.

“Saxon,” my mother’s calm voice makes me still, “I am not above killing a child if it means I get some peace. Are we clear?”

The room is quiet and I slowly lift my head to look around the table. Dad has his hand over his mouth but his eyes are dancing with humour, Dahlia looks pale with her chin hitting the wooden surface, and Saxon looks like he may pass out.

Mother leans across the table to get further into his face, “I’m not going to hear about this shit anymore, right? Because it makes me feel like I need to beat someone to a pulp.”

Saxon nods and she pats him roughly on the cheek, “perfect.”

She’s the only one that can reel him in and Dad lets her because Saxon can be a bit much.

“So, no one is allowed to bone any teachers!” Dahlia claps, “got it!”

My family is fucking strange but it can be amusing.

“Ivy,” Mother turns to me. “Tell me, how’s school going?”

“Uh, it’s fine.” Just boning a teacher. “I’m pulling up my math grade.” Because I’m boning the teacher.

“You haven’t been back to New York, is there anyone you miss?” Dad asks. “Best Friend? Boyfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” Mother chimes in.

“No one.” I shake my head.

“So you were a loser there, too.” Saxon snorts and Mother slaps her hand on the table in front of him, never taking her eye off me.

Saxon jumps and Dad snorts.

“There’s no one in New York, I wasn’t in the right headspace to make friends.” I say it quietly and I’m shocked to see Mother’s eyes soften.

“And what about here?” She asks me.

“Here I have Carmelo and Cameron,” I shrug.

“Those are your cousins, Ivy. You need to socialize.” Mother interjects.

“Sometimes family makes the best of friends.” Dad covers her hand with his.

“That’s true,” she nods, “but you can have other friends. What about Veronica? You used to be so close.”

“She’s a bully now.” I shrug.

“Molly?”

“We no longer have the same interests.” And I boned her dad.

“This will change with time, Em.” Dad placates her.

“Fine, but if anyone is giving you issues, you come to me.” Her eyes the exact same shade as mine bore into me.

“Okay.” I agree because what else can I do?

Then they both turn on Saxon, his grades are slipping, and he’s a fucking sociopath. He hates people, he hates authority, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him bring a friend home like normal people do. I wasn't kidding when I said he needed a therapist.

Then they turn on sweet Dahlia and both their eyes crinkle with happiness, she really does no wrong.

“You young lady,” Dad says, “just continue doing what you do.”

“Yay!” She jumps from the table and plows into Saxon.

She’s the only one he softens for, the only one allowed to touch him for extended periods of time, and the one thing I think he would kill for. He hugs her back and kisses her head.

“That’s right, little miss perfect.” He doesn’t say it with his usual sneer. He likes that she’s perfect.

“Everyone is here tomorrow,” Mother looks around at us. Her eyes stop on me, “try not to make anyone cry, scream, or storm out of the house.” She turns to Saxon, “try to be present for longer than an hour, we are your fucking family.”

“Two bad words, Mommy.” Dahlia says holding up her fingers.

“Right.” Mother closes her eyes and breathes. “Just be with your family on Christmas, okay Saxon?”

“Got it.” He nods.

“Got it.” I nod.

“Everyone will be here in a few hours so let's clean the house and get ready.” Dad rises from his seat.

When Dad said everyone, I didn’t think he meant the Jones family, too. I do not want to be in the same room with Charlotte’s father, the guilt will literally burn me alive, Amelia, who I know has a crush on me and I made out with her a few days ago, and Neil, who just fucking hates me.

My uncles and aunt are here too with their twins and young son. The twins are a bit freaky with how similar they look to Mother and Uncle Emmett. Nana Sharla is also here in the kitchen, trying her best to teach Aunt Adri how to make pudding. I’m not eating it.

“Honey, I’m home!” I hear Uncle Tommy boom from the front door and sigh with relief, Cameron is here.

I rush to the front to get away from the Jones’ and greet them.

“Hi Uncle Tommy, Hi Aunt Amy.” I hug them both.

“Hey Ivy.” Uncle Tommy pulls me in for a hug.

He’s Mother’s closest friend from childhood and almost like her real brother.

Aunt Amy kisses my head and they both head into the kitchen. Aunt Amy is Carmelo’s step-father’s sister. That’s why Cameron and Carmelo are pretty much cousins. Sounds a bit like Alabama in this house, huh?

“Please tell me you spoke to Carmelo.” I grab Cameron’s arm. “He’s not answering my texts.”

“His phone was confiscated until after the New Year and he’s not allowed out of his parent’s sight.” He chuckles.

Right, the last fight. They try to do this to him every few months but Carmelo is almost eighteen now, there’s not much more they can do. If he wants to fight, he’s going to do it.

“You look frantic.” Cam smirks. “Is it because the Jones family is here?”

“You knew?” I look at him like the traitor he is.

“I talk to Amelia.” He laughs and drags me in for a hug. “Besides, this is a good opportunity to win them over with that charm.”

“Cam, what fucking charm?” I hiss at him as he leads us to the family room.

He stops and looks down at me, “Ivy, you are one of the most fascinating people I know. Stop letting Neil Jones take that away. Be yourself.”

His words stun me enough that he drags me back into the den of vipers without much of a fight. It’s hard to charm someone who’s been terribly damaged and repair seems impossible. Especially, if you are the one that caused the damage in the first place.

About an hour later, and an hour of listening to Amelia and Cam being the only two talking, I hear the front door open. I know it’s Carmelo and his family, and I need to get away from Neil’s stare. If looks could fucking kill, I’d be a decaying corpse by now. It doesn’t fucking help that Amelia keeps shooting me looks like she wants to jump me, I bet that’s sitting just right with Neil.

I skid into the foyer and visibly relax when I see Carmelo’s bruised face. His mother Marlana sees me and smiles, opening her arms for a hug. They feel more like my family than my own. I rush into her arms and whimper when she crushes me tighter.

“Sorry I haven’t been by since I’ve been back.” I tell her.

“It’s okay, Ivy. But don’t make it a habit.” Carmelo’s step-father Charles says as he pats my head.

I pull out of Marlana’s arms and turn to give Carmelo’s younger sister Sabrina a hug. I see her around school sometimes but she’s in the younger grades and our schedules never mesh.

“You look so pretty.” I tell her as I scoop up her pink hair.

“Mom helped me.” She grins.

“Whoa!” Uncle Emmett exclaims behind me. “That hair is going to be triggering.” He points at Sabrina’s head.

Charles and Marlana laugh, and I roll my eyes exaggeratedly at Sabrina. Uncle Emmett lacks tact and I can see the worried look in her eyes.

“It looks really good.” I tell her as I run my fingers through the  pink strands.

I lead them into the kitchen and stare wide eyed when my mother bursts out laughing at Sabrina’s hair. She pulls her in to soften the blow but that shit was rude.

“Sorry, Hun.” Mother says, “but did your mom tell you she had this exact hair when I met her?”

“No.” Sabrina shakes her head.

“I had some great nicknames for her, too.” Mother chuckles.

“I don’t think we should be saying…” Dad starts.

“I think one was ‘bubble gum head’, right?” Marlana grins.

“Cotton candy brain.” Mother adds.

“Okay,” Dad interjects. “Let’s leave it at that.”

Everyone laughs again and I must say, I do like the sound of it.

“Oh!” Aunt Adri exclaims, “I have a game we adults can play later, have you ever heard of saying your name backwards?”

I’m stunned when I see Mother spit out her wine and when every one of the weird adults start laughing.

“Let’s leave the weirdos.” I grab Sabrina’s arm and Carmelo follows behind us.

“Can you believe it?” I hear Marlana chuckling, “I was shocked when she came and asked me if she could dye it pink.”

“Sabrina!” Sammy calls out. “Come play chess.”

Sammy is one half of the twin duo and he’s quiet, subdued. Then Sonja is the loud one who likes to joke around and play pranks. So much like Mother and Uncle Emmett but reversed. Then they have a little brother Gabriel and he’s really smart for eleven. Next year, they have decided to bump him a grade and that brings him closer to Saxon.

If my brother put as much effort into school as he does his attitude then I have no doubt the fucker would be a genius. It actually scares me that next year he starts high school and I won’t be there to tell him not to be a jerk.

He will have Sabrina and Amelia, also Cameron will be in his final year so that eases my mind slightly. Sonny and Sammy also start high school with him but they for the most part stay out of his way, especially at school. He needs to snap out of whatever phase he’s in because I worry he’ll either be bullied or an axe murderer, it could go either way at this point.

“Is there anywhere we can go to smoke this fat ass blunt I brought?” Carmelo whispers and I groan.

“Thank you for small miracles. I really didn’t think I’d make it out of this in one piece.” I grab his hand and poke my head in the family room. “Cam, family meeting.”

Cameron’s head shoots up and his smile is instantaneous, our ‘family meeting’ either means drugs or plotting.

“I’ll be back.” He says to Amelia.

Both boys follow me out to the back yard, through a foot of snow, and towards the large shed in the back of the lot. It’s a place we’ve made our own and my parents have let us take it over since we were kids. Before that, my mother said it was her uncle’s man den or something. There are still a lot of car pictures on the walls and these are rare cars, and a sweet bar in the corner that used to house our juice, but now we hide beers.

I punch in our code on the keypad and hear the door unlock. We open it and step inside, it’s fucking freezing.

“Turn on the heaters.” I tell the guys. The place is insulated but it’s fucking cold in Whitsborough during the winters.

We huddle on the couch and Carmelo sparks the blunt. Each of us taking a hit whenever it passes in front of our faces. We’re quiet, contemplative of our current situations, and I’m finally starting to feel at ease, the anxiety slowly draining away.

“Who fucked up your face this time?” Cam breaks the silence.

“Some new kid,” Carmelo passes me the blunt. “He goes to the local college and one of the guys brought him. He has a hard left hook.”

“We gotta somehow teach you to fight without someone having to pound you into mince meat first.” Cam mutters and I snort.

“Is that funny?” Carmelo knocks my shoulder, “my face being called mince meat?”

“You’re gonna end up looking ugly when you’re older.” I say between chuckles.

“Whatever.” Carmelo rolls his eyes. “You hit Amelia yet, bro?” He knocks Cam’s shoulder.

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s not like that?” Cam huffs.

“It’s really not like that.” I say before I can stop myself. Fucking stoned brain.

“Oh yeah.” Carmelo begins to laugh.

“What am I missing here?” Cam looks between us.

“Fuck, you guys really aren’t that tight huh?” Carmelo taunts him.

“I made out with Amelia a few nights ago at Riley’s party.” Quick, like pulling off a Band-Aid.

Cam’s face looks slightly confused and Carmelo breaks out into another fit of laughter.

“She said she met someone that night…” Cam trails off. “Oh fuck. Ivy, she was fucking talking about you?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug, “I hope not.”

“Shit. She’s really into you.” Cam is staring at me.

“Did you know she was a lesbian?” I ask him.

“I had suspicions but I never asked her, that shit is rude and none of my fucking business.”

“Like Charlotte.” Carmelo mutters.

After that, we all fall into another mind numbing silence. Yeah, it was a little too much like Charlotte.

Family meeting? What family meeting could the three of them be having? And it’s been over an hour.

“Where did they go?” Amelia asks.

“Why?” I cut her some side eye. “Are you looking for Ivy?”

“No.” Her mouth turns down into a slight frown.

“You need to get over her.” I tell her.

“I know, Neil.”

Our parents have long ago joined the others in the kitchen and we are stuck here with all the younger kids. It’s been a while since I’ve seen most of them and I’m shocked at how much they’ve grown.

“She’s toxic and fucking damaged.”

“Neil, she’s not really any of those things. She’s actually sweet and maybe a little sad. You need to stop seeing her as a fucking murderer.” She snaps at me and I am shocked into silence.

“She is a murderer.” I grit through my teeth.

“No, I don’t think she is.” She shakes her head. “You need to realize Charlotte was the one damaged.”

Her words are like little knives, each one slowly slicing into my heart, and bleeding me dry.  I need to realize Charlotte was damaged? What does she mean? And how can she know that?

I don’t bother to question her right now because it would only lead to a disagreement. Instead, I get up and decide to give myself a tour of the house. I want to see the luxury Ivy grew up in, the privilege that cushioned her actions, and the wealth that made all her problems go away.

I step out of the family room and into the foyer, to the right is the kitchen, and to the left is a large oak door and the staircase. On the walls in front of me are a lot of pictures of the Greenes as children and the parents when they were younger. It’s crazy that Vin and Ember met in high school and have been together ever since. No bumps, just a perfect relationship.

I turn left and stand at the foot of the stairs. I look up and the sheer opulence of the place. A large mahogany staircase, a chandelier hanging in the center, and what looks to be many bedrooms on the second floor.

I look around and see that my sister hasn’t followed me and no one is in the hallway. I make my way up the staircase and stop on the landing. I look to the right and see one doorway and then to the left I see four more. I would assume the kids rooms are to the left.

That’s the way I go and open the first door on the left, it’s pink and filled with stuffed animals, Dahlia. I open the next one on the left and find what is very clearly a spare bedroom, unless Saxon is incredibly dull, and I would assume not.

I go forward to the next one on the left and open it up. Jackpot, this is definitely Ivy’s room. You wouldn’t be able to tell by the posters on the wall, or the skateboards lined up, and definitely not by the large dark bed. It’s her scent, that one that’s uniquely hers, and I feel myself harden.

What will it take to stop having this reaction to her? I tried the girlfriend thing and sadly it takes too much effort, I tried reminding myself that she killed my sister, and I even fantasized killing her much the same way. Nothing works.

Do I need to fuck her? Is that it?

I sit on her bed and the movement sends a plume of her scent to settle all around me. Now I am rock fucking solid in my jeans and unable to go back downstairs. I need to fuck this girl. I imagine her lying on this bed, completely naked, and her pussy glistening, primed for my cock.

A buzzing noise pulls me out of my head and I glance at her phone on the nightstand. Another buzz comes through and I pick it up. The screen is locked but I do see message notifications. A Dean is sending her images and videos. I wonder if this is one of her boyfriends. I slide the screen but it requires a passcode.

I try her birthday, but nada. I try one, two, three, four, again nothing. Then, I don’t even know why, I put in Charlotte’s birthday and the screen unlocks. Why would she have Charlotte’s birthday as her code?

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ivy’s voice is a hoarse whisper as she snatches her phone out of my hands.

Her voice shocks me because I didn’t even hear her come in. “Sorry,” I grin at her. “Dean was interrupting my rest.”

Her face loses its olive tone and she quickly glances down at her phone, “did you read them?” She sounds scared. Probably a lot of dick pics.

“It took me a few tries to guess the lock screen passcode, so no.” Then I slip my finger into the belt loop in her pants and pull her closer, right between my legs. “Why is Charlotte’s birthday your passcode?”

“So I’ll never forget what I did.” She answers quietly.

My stomach flips at her words and I slip my thumb up under her shirt to rub against the soft skin of her belly. Sounds like she’s remorseful and if I’m being honest with myself, Ivy has never tried to deny what happened, or lessen it at all.

“I’m having trouble.” I mutter.

“With what?” Her voice sounds husky and she steps in closer to me.

“Figuring out why I can’t get you out of my head.”

“Oh.” The sound is small and insecure.

“How do I get you out of my head, Ivy? Because I’m supposed to hate you, but right now, it feels like something else.”

“Don’t worry, Neil.” She shakes herself out of whatever hold I had over her. “I hate myself enough for the both of us.”

She turns to walk away and both of my hands fly to her waist to drag her down on top of me, both of us falling on the bed. Her eyes are wide with surprise and so fucking gorgeous. My hands glide from her waist and over her ass, dragging her against my cock.

“This isn’t how.” She whispers.

“What?” I grip her ass cheeks harder and groan at their fullness.

“This isn’t going to get me out of your head, if anything it will keep me firmly there, and then you’ll hate me even more.”

“Trust me, I can’t hate you any more than I already do.” I lean up and run my nose along her throat.

She moves to straddle me, sitting perfectly on top of my swollen cock, and grinds into it. Both of us make similar noises and my hands make their way up under her shirt, grazing her stomach. She lifts her shirt over her head and drops it to the bed, her black lacy bra looking delectable against her skin. I cup their fullness in my hands and she moans, grinding down into me more.

My balls clench and I'm shocked at how badly I want to cum, need to cum. I feel like a teenager again, on the brink of cumming in my pants. Ivy falls forward, her hair casting a curtain around our heads and her breath fanning my face. I have one hand working the button on her jeans and the other curling into the nape of her neck, pulling her mouth to mine.

"There's no going back, Greene." I whisper to her, "once I kiss you, there's no stopping."

"Okay." She whispers.

That's all I need to hear and I'm dragging her mouth to mine. The instant they touch it's like something primal comes over me and I'm biting down into her lip, hard. She's unbothered, grinding into my cock, and whimpering.

"Ahem."

We both freeze and I stare up at her wide eyed, "did you not shut your door?"

"Did I think you'd want to jump my fucking bones?" She whispers back.

"I can hear you both." Amelia says.

Fuck, she's going to feel betrayed by this, I just know it. I've been spewing hate about Ivy and here I am practically fucking her.

Ivy sits up, her pussy pressing into my cock, and I have to bite my hand to keep quiet.

"Hey Amelia." She says while looking over her shoulder.

Amelia comes into the room and shuts the door, her back hitting it, her arms crossed.

"How long?" She's looking at me.

"Just now." I grab Ivy's waist and lift her off me, "I don't know what the fuck happened."

I really fucking don't.

She looks at Ivy and raises her brow.

“What?" Ivy asks her, sounding defensive.

"You just made out with me a few nights ago and now you're on my brother." Amelia hisses at her.

"Look Amelia." Ivy sounds on the verge of losing her shit. "I kissed you, yes. Does that mean we're exclusively dating? No. I'm not actually dating you at all."

Amelia's cheeks go red and she looks between the two of us, her mouth opening and shutting.

"So, you want to date him?" Amelia points at me.

"No," Ivy stands and pulls her shirt on, "I was going to fuck him. That's it. I don't do relationships."

"You were dating Riley, though!" Amelia shouts. She's beginning to sound a bit desperate and I want to just grab her and leave the room.

"And look how that turned out." Ivy counters. "Even if I did do relationships, I wouldn't want one with you. I'm sorry I kissed you and led you on, it wasn't my intention."

Amelia deflates against the door and nods. "I know."

"You're a good kid but can I give you some advice?" Ivy says to her.

Amelia nods.

"Don't settle, don't take what your body is feeling seriously right now. You can't know exactly what you want, you have so much time to explore things. Take that time and fucking explore."

"What?" I interject. "Do not explore."

"Sexuality is fleeting, one day you want one thing the next you'll find you want another. Do not think you can only have one thing, fuck, have it all."

"The fuck?" I snarl at Ivy. "Are you telling her to be a whore?"

"That," she points at me. "Is a prime example, don't be single minded and listen to everything your body is telling you."

"Okay." Amelia nods. "Sorry I intruded. I'll just be going."

"Take your brother with you." Ivy says as she's walking into the washroom, her phone open in her hands.

I have never felt so fucking dismissed in my life. I stare at her retreating back until she closes the washroom door.

"You should've told me how you were feeling." Amelia says to me.

"Amelia, I really had no clue, okay?" I push up off Ivy's bed.

She must see the truth in my statement because she doesn't press me further.

The rest of the night is awkward as fuck, I can practically taste it in the air, and I can still taste Ivy in my mouth. It's fucking addictive and now that I've had a taste, I won't stop until I get it all.

The holidays are over and I am back at school, sitting at a desk without a clue of what I should be doing. The last two weeks were filled with family and Dean. His messages haven't stopped and his videos are getting worse.

Just last night he sent me one of him once again tying me up with his tie and spanking me with my science textbook. In the video I am sobbing for him to stop and that I'll be a good girl. I don't even remember that instance, that's how bad it was starting to get. Maybe I did fuck Mr. Serrano so I could get caught and come home.

Dean keeps threatening me about Black Slaughter and I don't know what the fuck that is.  Whatever it is doesn't sound good and I am beginning to worry that he's going to kill me. Can he kill me? I have no fucking idea how far his power stretches and I'm scared for my family.

"Ivy," Mr. O'Connor's voice breaks up my thoughts, "did you need another detention?" His smirk is doing nothing for me.

"No, sorry." I tell him and he raises his eyebrows in surprise. I bet he was expecting me to want to stay.

He carries on with the class, shooting me weird looks throughout, and when the final bell rings, his eyes meet mine.

"Ivy, can you stay there for a second?"

I nod but roll my eyes. I don't want to fuck him today and honestly, I haven't been able to get Neil out of my head. It's a fucking shame we couldn't finish what we started and now he's back at school, probably fucking a bunch of college girls.

The students leave and I can say with one hundred percent certainty that I know maybe one or two of their names. I hate school and I feel confined, forced to learn shit that will do absolutely nothing for me later on in life.

"Is everything okay, Ivy?" Mr. O'Connor comes towards my desk.

"Yes." I shrug.

He sits on the edge of my desk and runs his fingers along my hand. "Are you sure?"

I snatch my hand back and get up from my seat, "yes, I'm sure. Can I go?"

"Do I need to remind you about the repercussions of what we've done and if it got out?"

"Look," I grab my bag. "It was good while it lasted but shit's getting boring."

His eyes widen and he barks out a laugh, "what?"

"You heard me," I pass by him. "And I won't say shit, I wanted it after all."

He doesn't say anything, just continues to watch me leave. I head to my locker and bypass Molly on the way, she has her head stuck inside, and I see her shoulders shaking. Is she crying? Fuck. Do I have to talk to her? I look around for someone and then realize this girl eats her fucking lunch in the bathroom, and there's no one who will fucking help her.

"Molly?"

Her body stiffens and I hear her blow her nose. "What?" Her voice is muffled by the locker.

"Is everything okay?"

She finally pulls her head out and looks at me over her shoulder, "why do you care?"

"Not sure." I shrug, deciding to go with the truth.

"My mom is leaving my dad." She begins to wail and I look uncomfortably around the hall.

"That sucks."

"He cheated," she continues to cry. "Mom found hotel charges on his credit card."

The fucker really is dumb, he blackmailed me, and instead got himself caught.

"Let me take you home." I tell her, knowing she takes the bus.

"Really?" She sounds shocked and somewhat hopeful. I know I'll have to cut her off later but right now I want to cause a little chaos in Officer Van Dyke's life.

The ride to Molly's is excruciating. She drones on and on about how she's getting her braces off next year and that she's going to get a car, oh! And also she's convincing her dad to get her a cat. She told me her mother is leaving and moving to Toronto with her parents, so she'll be the only woman in the house. Her dad and her brother ignore her and she's going to be so bored.

"Do you think you'll want to come over and bake?" She squeals. "Like we used to do?"

This is not worth it. "That was an Easy Bake oven, Molly." I huff.

"Well, I learned how to bake with the big oven, I'll teach you, too." She claps. Fucking stab me, someone.

I pull into her driveway and sure enough, there's a moving van. Molly once again deflates and I watch as large tear drops run down her cheeks.

"Hey," I say to her. "I'll come with you inside."

"Okay." She nods.

As soon as we step out of the car, I can hear the shouts. It's a wonder neighbours aren't out watching the drama unfold. We step around the van and I see Mrs. Van Dyke rolling a suitcase behind her.

"I will see you in Hell, Adam!" She screeches and then stops short when she sees Molly and me.

"Ivy Greene?"

"Hi, Mrs. Van Dyke." I give a little wave.

"Molly sweetie, I will be by on the weekend and we will go out for Froyo." Then she pushes past us and towards the van.

"Sandra!" Adam steps to the porch, "if you leave now, don't you ever come back."

His eyes land on me and I watch as the fucker pales. I toss him a grin and then run to Sandra, helping her lift the suitcase to the van. She smiles at me appreciatively.

"Don't ever get married, Ivy. Men are pigs."

"Apparently, so are cops." I retort and she bursts out laughing.

"What are you two talking about?" Adam demands suddenly behind us.

"Daddy, leave Ivy alone." Molly whines.

"Talking about how men are pigs." I tell him and Sandra snorts. "It's a shame you ruined a perfectly good family." I tsk and Sandra hums behind me.

"You don't know what's going on." Adam snarls.

"Oh no?" I bat my eyes and watch as he pales further. "I'm sure I could figure it out."

He takes a menacing step towards me, a growl escaping his lips.

"Adam!" Sandra steps between us, "what are you doing?"

"Nothing." He begins to look shameful.

"Yikes," I heavy my tone with sarcasm. "I better get out of here." I walk towards my car and look back at Molly, "see you at school."

She nods but she's too engrossed in yet another screaming match her parents are having. This just made my day.

"I love you, Ivy." She sobs as her tears drip off her chin and soak her shirt. "I fucking love you!" Her fist hits the steering wheel.

"Listen," I touch her arm and she shrugs me off. "Can we talk about this another time?" My fucking Grandma just died!

"No!" She screams and the shrill noise startles me.

"Charlotte, this shit is crazy." I breathe.

"Crazy?" Her voice becomes deathly calm and I can feel my heart thrumming in my chest.

We fly around a narrow corner, the tires squealing, and she doesn't let up on the gas. What the fuck did I do? Why would I ask her to take me for a drive during this time and right after Grandma Jenna died?

"Charlotte," I keep my voice steady. "Please pull over."

She doesn't listen to me and makes a sharp right hand turn down a small residential street. I don't know where we are right now but it's no longer in Whitsborough. We fly down the street at an alarming speed and I begin to sweat, my sobriety fully intact now.

"I have loved you for a year, did you know that?" She sounds crazy. I drove my best friend crazy.

"No." I whisper and she growls, punching the steering wheel again.

"You kissed me at the wharf party last month and I thought this is it, she's finally feeling the same." Her words catch on a sob. "It wasn't fucking it, was it?"

"Charlotte, I care about you." I plead. "Please pull over."

"A week later we were making out every chance we got, is that just a friendship to you?" She grits through her teeth. "Now, you won't even hold my hand?"

"Okay," I reach for her, "I'll hold your hand."

"Don't touch me!" She screams.

"Okay, fine." I hold my hands in the air like a criminal. "No touching."

"Just last week you had your mouth on me, your fingers inside of me and what, you don't love me?"

"I do love you, Charlotte." I try to placate her, because I really do, just not how she wants me to.

"Not like I love you!" She screams and the car swerves. She rights us but keeps going at her breakneck speed.

I try to envision Mother and Dad, Saxon, and my Little Flower because I feel like I may never see them again. This moment feels like an ending and instead of being terrified, I am almost serene.

"You need to pull over before you get us killed." I tell her, keeping my eye on the road as it rushes past us.

"Then you will have to be with me, won't you?" She looks at me, her eyes off the road, "if I can't have you, I guess no one can."

I wake up with a scream lodged in my throat and I swear I can still smell the gasoline fumes. I can't help but think I’m dreaming about Charlotte because of Neil. She promised me I would have no other and she has kept her end of the promise. I haven't had any other and I can't keep another as well. The night she died, so did I.

I think she took my soul right along with hers and left me here  to roam the Earth an empty carcass. She made sure that the rest of my days were filled with misery and that each painful day would be my constant reminder of what I did to her.

I sit up in bed and cringe when I peel my soaked t-shirt off my body, letting it slap to the floor. Every nightmare feels like I'm right back in that car with her, simultaneously pleading for our lives and breaking her heart.

I grab another shirt from my dresser and head down to the kitchen for a drink. My throat is dry and feels like I was once again screaming for her not to leave me, just like that night.

After gulping down two glasses, I drag my feet back upstairs, and mindlessly head back to my bedroom.

"You were screaming Charlotte's name." Saxon's voice startles me. "I was going to come in and wake you up."

"Oh," I swallow thickly. "Thanks."

"You were screaming for her to slow down, Ivy." He narrows his eyes on me. "Something doesn't add up."

I can feel my face drain of blood and my throat begin to cease. I stand there silently for a few minutes, just looking at him, and finally he breaks the hold.

"Anyways," he steps back into his room. "Night."

Fuck, this is bad. Saxon is unpredictable and I don't know what the fuck he'll do with that information.

"Then I had a puppy named Benji, he was the sweetest little sheepdog, so fluffy."

Her voice is pitched too high and her eyes are too dark, nothing like the clear blue Caribbean Sea. I curse myself and scrub my hand down my face.

"Is everything okay?" Paula leans across the table and takes my hand.

“Yeah, sorry." I smile at her. "It's been a long week."

It hasn't been a long week. We just finished exams and I have the week off before the next semester starts, but she doesn't question me. No, Paula is sweet and so very trusting, a good girl all around. Not one that races her car and then spreads her pussy open in front of everyone. Not someone who has no qualms making out with literally anyone and yet, she's doing nothing for me.

My stomach doesn't flip at the mention of her name, my dick doesn't harden at the sound of her voice, and I don't feel an overwhelming need to see her whenever I can. Fuck, it's not going to work out with Paula and she's the second this month.

"How about I get you home?" I say to her and watch as her face falls. I'm not here to lead anyone on.

"Okay." She says quietly.

I pull up to her sorority and turn in my seat to face her, readying myself to break it off.

"It's okay, Neil." She gives me a sad smile. "You don't have to say it."

"I'm sorry, Paula."

"Tell the one you're thinking about that she's a lucky one." Before I can correct her, she's out of my car and hurrying to her front door.

Neither of us are lucky in this scenario.

"How's Dad?" My dorm room is a mess and I am missing my baby sister.

"He's the same." Amelia exhales into the phone, which is bad. "Mom wants to put him in a rehab facility."

"Make the Greenes pay for it." I snarl and once again hear her huff.

"Neil, we both know he's always had this problem."

"How's everything else?" I change the subject.

"If you want to ask about her, just do it." She has a touch of humour in her voice.

"Who?" I sound like an idiot.

"You're a loser." She chuckles. "She looks okay but I don't think she actually is."

"What does that even mean?"

"Why don't you come home next weekend?" She asks and I can hear the exhaustion in her words.

"Okay sis, I'll see you next weekend."

Another trip to Whitsborough, for a guy that hates that place, I'm fucking there an awful lot.

The following weekend, I get my ass moving and drive to Whitsborough. This is the most I’ve been here since Charlotte and I were kids and I know it’s for a certain dark haired girl. I need to settle this shit once and for all, either I fuck her and get her out of my head or decide to forgive her and move on from the hatred.

Maybe both.

Forgiveness feels like the hardest thing to do and in a way I feel like I am betraying my sister. She didn’t deserve to die and she should be the one making her way here to hang out with the family she loved and her friends.

My dad’s house is dark when I arrive, I look to my dashboard, and the clock says just after midnight. It’s Friday night so I would assume everyone is sleeping. I pull out my phone to text Amelia and instead hover over Ivy’s name.

Yes, I have her number, yes, I want to text her, and yes again, I stole it from my sister’s phone.

Me: You up?

I wait for a few minutes and when she doesn’t reply, I make my way to her house. I can’t see the house from the road and her gate is shut tight with fucking privilege. I rest my head on the wheel and breathe through my irritation.

My phone pings beside me and I scramble to pick it up.

Ivy: Who is this?

Right, she doesn’t have my number, I should’ve thought of that. She’s probably thinking it’s one of her rotations hoping for a titty pic. I groan at my thoughts and again try to breathe out the irritation. What am I even doing here?

Before I can even turn the car around, my phone pings again.

Ivy: Leave me alone.

Huh?

Me: It’s Neil.

Why the fuck did I do that? The phone pings again.

Ivy: Neil Jones?

Me: No another Neil.

I laugh when I see she sent me the middle finger emoji.

Ivy: What do you want?

Me: Who are you telling to leave you alone?

Ivy: You?

I snort and scrub my hand down my face.

Me: Do you want me to leave you alone?

Am I fucking flirting with the girl who murdered my sister?

Ivy: Not at all.

Me: Good. I wasn’t planning on it.

Yes, I fucking am.

Ivy: How’s work at the hotel?

Me: I took this weekend off.

Ivy: Sweet.

Me: Come outside.

I don’t know why my heart races after I send that and my palms are suddenly sweaty. What if she doesn’t come out? My phone doesn’t ping again and it’s been ten minutes since I sent that fucking stalkerish text.

I turn the key in the ignition and stop when I see the gate open.

Ivy: Come up.

I pull into her driveway and drive up to the house, which is also dark and I feel a pang of guilt. Maybe I woke her.

She’s standing on her porch, hopping from side to side in nothing but an oversized sweater and fluffy slippers. My cock hardens like steel and I groan. This has been the reaction I’ve been looking for all over campus and I can only find it in the girl I should despise.

I get out of the car uncaring if I’m wearing track pants and still uncaring if she can see her effect on me. I’m so fucking tired of fighting this. I run up to the porch and stand in front of her, then slowly walk her backwards inside. My body touching hers.

“It’s good to know the cold doesn’t have that same shrinkage effect on you.” She mutters and I snort.

“Everyone asleep?” I look around the darkened foyer as she steps away to shut the door.

“Only Saxon and I are home. Everyone else went to New York for the weekend.”

“You didn’t want to go back and see your friends?” I ask her.

“I haven’t had a single friend since Charlotte, Neil.” She sounds just as tired about this as I do.

“Why not?” I ask as she leads us into the kitchen.

“Because I never ever wanted to be in that position again.” She opens the fridge and throws me a can of beer, then opens one for herself.

“What about this Dean?” I grin at her over my can.

“Not a friend.” She’s quick to answer, her face falling. Definitely not.

We drink in silence for a few minutes and I can see her staring at me from my peripheral.

“What?” I finally give in.

“Why are you here?”

Good question.

“I was driving home to see Amelia for the weekend.” I begin, running my finger over the sweat on the beer can. “The house was dark and I dunno, I ended up here.”

“Oh.” She takes a sip. “I see.”

“Do you?” I ask her, standing from my seat.

She swallows, her throat working hard, and the vein there pulses rapidly. I reach down, wrapping my hands around her waist and plopping her up on the table. I wedge myself between her legs and brush her hair off her face.

“Well?” I ask, rubbing my thumb across her bottom lip. “Do you?”

She moans quietly, breathy, and soft. Her eyes wide and staring into mine, those lips slightly open. I bend slightly, my hands dropping to the table on either side of her and bump her nose with mine.

“What do you see, Ivy?”

“I see you here… with me.” She answers her voice husky, the sound shooting straight to my cock.

I swoop in and claim her mouth with my own. My hand snares into her hair and I angle her head to get better access. I swipe my tongue along the seam of her lips and she opens on a moan. I only got a taste last time and I couldn’t forget it, I am truly fucked now because I’m drowning in her.

Her tongue tangles with mine and I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her in against me. She wraps her legs around me and rubs herself onto my cock.

I pull back from her mouth and yank the sweater up over her head, groaning when I see she’s just in a pair of boy cut shorts.

“Are you fucking serious?” I whisper, leaning forward and taking one of her dusty rose nipples into my mouth.

I pinch the other and find a bar through it. I release her nipple with a pop and pull the pierced one into my mouth. I tug on it with my teeth and she moans loudly.

“Tell me Saxon is a heavy sleeper because I’m about to have you screaming.” I tell her, hoping my words are true and my dick doesn’t fail me. I’m about to cum as it is.

“Even if he hears it, he won’t give a shit.” She rasps.

I press my hand into her chest and force her to lay back on the table.

“Are you going to fuck me on the table my family eats dinner off of?” She grins at me.

I run my finger over her panties, the wetness soaking all the way through, and her breathing rapid. I hook my finger into the strap and slowly pull them down, exposing her an inch at a time, and losing myself more with each inch. I drop the panties to the floor and stand there, just looking at her glistening, for me.

Then the panic begins to set in.

He’s just standing there, completely still, and completely clothed. I can see the indecisiveness on his face and I know he’s warring internally. His feelings for me, lust and hatred battling it out, and I’m just foolishly lying here waiting for whichever one wins.

I sit up and reach for my sweater.

“Wait,” his voice sounds pained.

“Neil, just go home.” I push my arm through.

He yanks the sweater away and chucks it behind him, then his mouth is back on mine. Once again, I’m lost in his kiss, it’s aggressive, and fucking perfect. His tongue pushing its way inside my mouth, it’s rough surface skating across mine, and his hand finally between my legs.

“You’re so wet.” He says into my mouth.

“Don’t fucking waste it, Jones.” I retort.

His finger pushes into my core and I gasp against his lips, it feels like forever since I’ve had sex. I haven’t touched anyone since before Christmas, since before I kissed Neil in my bedroom.

Neil breaks our kiss and continues his way down my chest, licking my skin, dipping his tongue into every dip and groove. Then he’s between my legs, his breath fanning my wet skin, and his eyes looking at me.

He pulls his finger out and uses both hands to spread me wide, taking a deep inhale of my arousal.

“Neil, please.” I beg, I’m not above it and I want his mouth on me so fucking bad.

His tongue tentatively swipes through my folds and I sink back on to the table with a moan. He’s soft but deliberate in his swipes, but I’m used to having sex a bit more on the rougher side, and I know this sweet making love shit won’t cut it.

I pop up on my elbows and his eyes meet mine over my mound.

“I won’t break, Neil. I need a fucking not a love session.”

His eyes darken and he stands up tall, pulling his pants down by the waist band. His black boxer briefs do nothing to hide his size and I feel my mouth fill with saliva.

“I want to suck your cock.” I say, “but I can’t right now because I need you inside of me.”

He begins to pull down his boxers and then curses. “Give me one minute.”

I growl in frustration as he runs to the front door but laugh when I see his pants still around his thighs. What the fuck is he doing? He opens it and rushes outside. It’s fucking cold.

Is he dipping out on me? I sit up completely and hear his car door shut. No way. I’m about to get off the table when he rushes back in, a square wrapper in his mouth, and his pants exactly the same.

“The fuck you doing?” He asks as he pushes me back down. “Don’t waste it, Jones.” He mocks me and pulls his pants and boxers down.

He pulls his sweater off and I’m stunned silent when I see all the tats decorating his chest and stomach. His stomach! Looks like I could scrub my laundry clean on it and worry about the fabric fraying, that’s how defined he is. My gaze lowers and I fall back to the table with a sigh, thank god.

Now as long as he knows what to do with it. He sucks his fingers into his mouth and pulls them out, running them over my clit, and sinking them deep inside of me. Then he’s rubbing my wetness over his cock before sliding the condom on.

“I hate condoms and I wanted to feel you.” He groans as he pulls my ass off the table and lines himself up.

I want to feel him, too, but I agree we need the protection because as much as we know each other, we don’t actually know each other.

He begins to push himself in and I gasp at the stretch. His fingers dig into my ass cheeks and then he gives one good push, jamming himself in deep.

“Fuck!” I yell and groan when he pulls back out.

“That’s right.” He leans over me, his hands landing on either side of my head. “Tell me what it feels like.”

He begins to piston in and out of me and it’s becoming hard to form words.

“Feels so good.” I moan as his thrusts become harder and deeper, my back dragging along the wooden surface.

I can feel the familiar tug at the base of my stomach, the tightening that comes before my release. I open my eyes to see him watching me closely, like I’m precious or fleeting. He leans forward slowly and sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, his thrusts now slow and languid.

His growl is my only warning as he begins to devour my mouth and fuck me hard, my pussy weeping all over him and the table. The table my family fucking eats off of. I don’t know what’s wrong with me because I come apart right then, my pussy clamping around his cock and my body jerking with each pulse. I have never come like that before.

My speech is gone, my thoughts erratic, and my vision blacked out.

“My name sounds good screaming from your mouth.” He says as his thrusts become sloppy.

I said his name?

Then he slams into me, jarring my head on the wood, and groaning my name, his cock jerking inside of me. I watch his features as the bliss takes over his face and something warms in my chest, something I don’t want to acknowledge, and certainly not ready to feel. His eyes open, connecting with mine, and his lazy smile slowly disappears.

Yeah, this is the part where we become awkward and go back to the hatred.

He eases out of me and walks to the powder room to clean himself off. I hope he flushes the condom or else I’m telling my parents Saxon had a friend over. Better him than me.

I hop off the table and find my sweater, pulling it on. Then I find my panties, deciding to pocket them since they’re wet, and I couldn’t be bothered. I lean against the table as he comes out of the bathroom, his boxers, and pants back on.

He hasn’t really made eye contact and I continue to watch him as he pulls his sweater back on, his muscles bunching.

“I should… ah… probably get home.” He mutters.

“Yeah.”

His eyes meet mine and I can see the confusion in his. I wonder which emotion is winning? I turn and walk out of the kitchen, leading him to the front door, my chest growing heavy with each step. This was his one fuck to get me out of his system right? Maybe now he can leave me well enough alone.

My heart drops to my stomach with that thought and for the first time in my life, I don’t want to be left alone.

I open the front door and look at the floor as he walks by me.

“Ivy…” he begins but I cut him off.

“Goodnight, Neil.” Then I shut the door softly in his face.

I just Band-Aided my feelings.

I wanted to tell her I’d call or text but she just shut the door. Now I can’t sleep and I’m lying here still smelling her on my skin and wondering if she did give me the chance to say it, would it have been the truth?

The answer to that question is complicated, I want to say that I am truly done with Ivy now that I had my fill, and that I can let her go. But I didn't fucking get my fill because I am still lying here, thinking about her, uncomfortably hard, and remembering her silky warmth around my cock. No, I am not done with Ivy and that fucking scares me.

Charlotte, what's happening?

I feel the pressure building in my chest and my eyes begin to burn, have I failed my sister? Have I gone against everything I promised her? Because me fucking Ivy wasn't fucking at all, I was pouring my soul into that and I will never be the same again. I fucking failed my sister.

When it becomes obvious that sleep will be impossible, I get up out of bed and head down to the kitchen. Shay is already up and making coffee, her face looking drawn and tired.

"Neil." She smiles, "I thought I saw your car pull up last night. It's good to have you home."

She's way too good for my piece of shit father.

"Yeah, thought I'd check in on everyone."

"I think we may have to have a chat about your dad." She lets loose a long sigh, "he's getting worse."

"Amelia said as much." I nod. "Maybe we need to look into facilities."

I watch as a tear slips down her cheek and pull her in for a hug. The woman has been a godsend to our family and my father is fucking taking it all for granted.

"We'll get him some help." I tell her.

I'm sitting in a small diner that has waiters and waitresses on rollerblades, this shit is so weird but Amelia swears by the milkshakes.

"Have you spoken to Ivy?" She asks me while looking over her milkshake glass.

"Not really." I shrug.

"What exactly is going on there?" She drops her hands to the table. "How are you feeling?"

"Can we drop the whole Ivy thing and talk about Dad?"

She rolls her eyes and nods, "fine."

"What's happened since Christmas?"

"He's been getting angrier when he drinks and he ends up breaking things." She says quietly. "A few nights ago he told Mom that Charlotte was a problem child and he was getting ready to ship her to boarding school."

"What?" I ask. That's fucking weird.

"Neil, I told you. When Charlotte died there was a lot going on. She was angry a lot and had these random outbursts. She was mean."

I try to comb over my memories of my sister but I can't think of a time she was unnecessarily angry.

"Seriously," Amelia leans forward. "Dad thought there might've been drugs involved."

I can't dispute that because we refused an autopsy on Charlotte, it was obvious how she died, and the thought of her being cut up only hurt us more.

"But why is he talking about Charlotte?"

"I think each time he drinks, he's regressing, and thinking of the times he is most ashamed of." She shakes her head. "He has a lot of regrets about you and Charlotte it seems."

"Dad was a problem teen." I tell her the stories Mom told me. "He partied, sold drugs, and robbed convenience stores. Then he landed in jail and that's when Ember came along. He left Mom as a teen mother to raise me and then knocked her up again with Charlotte just before going to jail. She left him after that."

He does have a lot of shit to make up to his family and I know if he doesn't get the help he needs, that list will just keep getting longer.

"We need to do an intervention." Amelia nods.

"Let's do it after dinner today." I agree.

I see his car pulling into my driveway through the security app on my phone. I fucking forgot to close the gate last night. Fuck, I really wish I remembered that. The closer he comes to my house, the more I feel like I might toss up my fucking dinner.

He parks behind my car and sits in his seat like he's waiting for something, or maybe trying to talk himself out of being here, and I'm hoping he decides to leave. There are things he may want to discuss, about feelings and shit, and I'm not good with that.

His door opens and he steps out of his vehicle tentatively, making my stomach flip. He has on a puffy black winter coat, dark jeans, and a baseball cap backwards on his head. He looks so hot and a little bit dangerous. I feel myself already growing wet just thinking about the things we did on that kitchen table.

He gets to my porch and scratches his fingers in his scruffy goatee, still looking undecided. Eventually, his hand comes out and presses the doorbell. Even though I saw him do it, I still jump from the noise.

"Who is it?" Saxon calls from his room.

"A friend." I yell back and listen until his bedroom door clicks shut again.

I open the door and stare into his golden eyes. He looks sad and tired.

"Hey." His voice is scratchy like he has been screaming all day, but so fucking sexy all the same.

"Hey." I open the door wider inviting him in.

"Sorry for just showing up here." He looks at his feet, then takes off his boots. "I just had nowhere else to go and I needed someone to talk to."

"What's going on?"

"Fuck, that sounded bad." He grabs my chin and pulls me in, his other hand snaking around my waist. "I can't stop thinking about you and I'm here because I wanted to talk to you."

I suck in a gasp from his confession and feel my face heat up. What do I say to that? How the fuck do I do this?

"Oh."

Oh?!

"I know I was a dick last night, I'm just used to hating you, and I don't know how to be any other way." I can see he's feeling guilty for what we did and I get why. I do, too.

"It's okay." I whisper, still feeling awkward and not knowing what the fuck to say.

"Can I kiss you?"

That's new, no one has ever asked my permission before. "Yes."

He tips my head back and then his lips are on mine, soft and warm. It quickly becomes aggressive and it's like with just a simple taste, we can't control ourselves. I end up pushed against the wall, lifted in his arms, and our teeth drawing blood.

Vicious in our attacks, we don't notice our surroundings until it's too late.

"Don't mind me." Saxon purrs as he walks by, causing Neil to nearly drop me. "Just getting a drink. Make sure you disinfect that wall and the kitchen table when you're done."

Oh fuck.

I can't help it, I look into Neil's stricken face, and burst out laughing.

"It's not funny." He hisses at me, "your brother saw us last night."

"I doubt he saw anything, more like heard it." I shrug, not bothered in the slightest.

Saxon walks back by us and heads up the stairs, "Neil, your hatred has manifested in weird ways. I like it." And then he disappears.

I burst out laughing again and then Neil is joining in.

"I needed that." He shakes his head.

"You said you needed someone to talk to?" I lead him to the family room and sit on a couch opposite from him. More space the better.

"We had an intervention for Dad earlier."

"Rodney?" I gasp. "What's wrong?"

"He's always enjoyed his booze but lately it's spiraled out of control. He's becoming an angry drunk and I worry about the girls in that house with him."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"He's leaving for a rehab facility tonight and I couldn't stay there to see him go. He's pretty pissed at me right now." He bows his head and I feel his pain. It's hard to disappoint your parents.

"You did the right thing." I whisper and I see him nod.

"I'll be staying here a while." His words light up my chest and give me anxiety at the same time. "I will defer this semester so I can help with Shay and Amelia. I need a job though, any chance your Dad is hiring?"

"You'd want to work with my family?" I look at him with my brow raised.

"I need a job."

"I'll ask him." I nod.

Neil is moving here, to Whitsborough and even though I'm excited, I'm also fucking scared. What are we even doing? Does he still hate me? Why wouldn't he?

"I should get back." He stands and I stand with him.

"Okay."

I follow him to the door and watch as he bends to put his boots on, his jacket pulling up and I see the muscles at the bottom of his back. He's also tattooed back there. He opens the front door and steps out on the porch, the frigid air sweeps around my face.

"Come for a drive." He turns quickly, shocking me.

"A drive?" My heart drums out a quick staccato in my chest. It feels a little like Deja vu.

"Yeah." He raises a brow.

Suddenly, his face falls, finally understanding my hesitation, or maybe not so much understanding it as he's realizing it.

"You know what?" I stuff my feet in my boots and grab my jacket off the hook. "I'll come."

"Cool." He smiles even though it's slightly strained.

I follow him out to the car and hop in the passenger seat, pulling out my phone to text Saxon. As soon as we pull out of the driveway, I close the gates behind us, and he heads in the direction of the wharf.

We're quiet and it's not uncomfortable silence but it's not comfortable either. Somewhere in the middle which perfectly sums us up, too.

He parks in front of the wharf and we both sit back in our seats, watching the slightly frozen water. I remember Charlotte daring me to run on the ice when we were younger and thinking about her once again brings back the doubts. How can he stand to be in this car with me? After everything I've done?

"You look like you're in pain." He murmurs and I snap out of my thoughts.

"I'm okay." I shake my head, not wanting to upset him, especially since he's behind the wheel.

Fuck, I should've offered to drive.

He reaches over and tucks an unruly wave behind my ear, slowly skimming his fingers down my neck. I can feel my skin break out with goosebumps and I shiver. He chuckles, leaning in slowly to replace his fingers with his lips.

I tip my head to the side, giving him better access and moan when I feel his tongue glide along the column of my neck. He nips my earlobe and then kisses my cheek. I turn my head to the side and brush my lips against his. There's a single moment when neither of us know what we should do next, we stare at each other, we breathe the same air, and we just feel.

That moment is fleeting because the very next moment we are ramming our tongues down each other's throats and ripping our jackets off. I'm pulling off my leggings and crawling over the console just as he pops his seat back. It's like we feel the impending doom but can't do a single thing to stop the destruction, we just have to ride it out.

You better believe I am riding the fuck out of it.

I slip my hands up under his shirt and he rips mine off and over my head, groaning when he sees I'm not wearing a bra... again. I fucking hate them and they always catch on my piercing. Neil leans forward and bites my pierced nipple, making me cry out as he pinches the other. It's rough and I wouldn't want it any other way.

He pushes me away and begins to undo his jeans, growling when it takes him a few tries. I can already tell this is going to be quick and fucking messy. He slides his pants down and his hard cock springs up between us, red and angry at the tip. I glide my wet pussy along its length and Neil tips his head back with a moan.

"Your pussy is so good." He gives my ass a quick squeeze and then he's reaching into the center console, pulling out a condom. Thank God one of us is prepared and fucking thinking straight. He rolls the condom on and then wastes no time lifting me up, then impaling me on his cock.

It's so deep like this and I continue to grind into him, sucking him in those last few inches.

"Fuck." I groan.

He's stretching me in the most perfect way, not quite painful, but it takes a minute for me to accommodate his size. He gives it to me, focusing on my breasts, sucking on my nipples, and pinching them. Then his arm comes up behind my back, hooks onto my shoulder, and pulls out, slamming me back down on him.

I scream at the assault and he doesn't let up, just continues to batter my pussy, my juices coating both of our thighs.

"Ivy," he pants. "Touch yourself."

My pussy pulses at his words and we both groan. I reach between us and begin to furiously rub my clit, chasing the orgasm I so desperately need. I feel myself tightening on the verge of snapping, my body bowing, and my pussy clenching as I'm flung over the edge, freefalling into a pool of sensation. My body erupts awash of tingles and Neil keeps pounding up into me, his cock dragging out my release.

"Fuck, Ivy," he snarls. "Fuck!"

Then I feel him jerk inside of me and his face pushes into the crook of my neck. I begin to relax, my body becoming fluid as I sink down on him and rest my forehead on his shoulder. We're both panting and our chests are heaving like we just ran a marathon.

"Tell me you've had it better than this before, I dare you." He murmurs into my skin.

I don't say anything because I can't, I haven't had it this good, and I can't explain to him why. I can't tell him I was raped numerous times over the span of two years and that every sexual encounter after that was to chase away those demons. So, I stay quiet and grin when he chuckles into my neck.

"Thought so." Smug bastard.

I lift myself off of him and crawl back over to the passenger side, slowly dressing as he does the same. We're quiet again but this time it's a comfortable silence.

It’s been a week since I’ve heard from Neil but it’s not like we’re dating, I really shouldn’t be so weird about it, right?

It’s Saturday night and I have Carmelo in my room, scrolling through my Netflix, and trying to convince me to hit up a house party. It’s Pat’s house and I’m not sure I want to deal with the drama of stealing his girl. I say I’m not sure because it is pretty appealing to go rub in any guy’s face that I stole their straight girlfriend.

“Come on, prima.” He whines. “I need to get out of the house and there’s no fight tonight.”

“So, call Cam.” I roll my eyes.

“He’s chilling with Amelia, not fucking because she only wants pussy.”

I chuckle and he joins in because that’s fucking funny. I don’t want to admit I’m feeling down because I haven’t heard from Neil and if I’m going out, I want him to be there. Pathetic, I know.

“I won’t let Pat do shit to you.” He cracks his knuckles. “But if you want to start a little shit for your favourite cousin, I won’t stop you.”

“That’s why I don’t want to go,” I stress, “you’re needing a fight and that’s why you’re going.”

“Nah.” He lays back on the bed. “I need pussy and I’m betting you need dick. It’s been how long now?”

To blow his mind or not blow his mind? Ah, fuck it.

“I’m good actually, I fucked Neil both Saturday and Sunday last week.”

The room is quiet and it feels something like the eye of the storm, calm before the chaos.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “I really thought I heard you say you fucked your worst enemy.”

“He’s not my worst enemy, trust me.”

“You really fucked Neil?” He jackknives up on the bed. “How?”

“Uh,” I give him a confused look, “I really think you should ask your mommy and daddy those questions.”

“Oh, fuck off.” He whips one of my pillows at my head. “How did it happen?”

“It just did.” I shrug.

“There’s serious voodoo shit goin’ on around here.” He mutters and stands up. “Get ready, we leave in five.”

I’m two beers in and Riley just showed up to the fucking party. She’s still fucking mad at me and trying to make me jealous by making out with Pat. What she doesn't know is that I feel sorry for her. She’s lost in a sea of unhealthy people and I am one of them.

“How does it feel to watch your ex-girlfriend make out with her ex-boyfriend?” Carmelo asks and then laughs.

“Relieving.” I snort and he laughs again.

“Let’s do shots.” He drags me by the arm over to a bar set up.

“Carmelo!” A guy fist bumps him, “I saw your fucking fight the other night, you’re fucking insane.”

“Thanks, bro.” Carmelo beams. “My cousin and I want some shots, what you got?”

Three tequila shots and a whole ass boring conversation later, I slip away from Carmelo and his groupies, and head outside. My face is hot from the fucking liquor and the cold air feels good.

I pull out my phone and frown at the lack of messages, I really thought Neil would’ve at least texted me by now, I thought there was no better than what we had, so where the fuck is he?

Fuck it, I pull up his number and hit send before I chicken out.

“Hello?” He sounds so fucking good. “Ivy? Did you just moan into the phone? Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” I huff, “you tell me.”

“Is it about work?” He asks and I roll my eyes. He’s been working with my dad the last few days.

“Why haven’t you called? Did you finally work me out of your system?”

“Are you drunk?” He asks.

“Are you horny?” I counter in what I hope is my sexy voice.

He’s silent and I all of a sudden feel ridiculous. “Nevermind.”

“No wait.” He takes a deep breath, “I’ve wanted to call but what is there to talk about? I can’t just fuck you all the time and leave.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“Because it’s wrong.” He snorts.

“It’s only wrong if I don’t want it. I’m not relationship material, Neil.” I whine. “Can you just come get me and fuck me please?”

“Where are you?” His voice drops and I clench my thighs to stave off the sudden arousal.

“Pat’s house.”

“I need an address, Ivy.” He sounds just as impatient as me now.

I give him the address and then attempt to text Carmelo what I’m doing, he can get himself home fine.

Neil takes less than ten minutes to turn onto the street and as soon as I’m in the car, I have my arms around his neck and my lips fused to his.

“Get us somewhere private.” I say just before sticking my tongue down his throat.

“Holy fuck,” he groans and adjusts himself in his track pants.

And now I’m fixated, I reach out, and rub my hand along his hard length.

“Ivy, I’m trying to drive… oh fuck.” He groans as I pull him out and lean forward in his lap.

I’ve been wondering what Neil tastes like and I didn’t get the chance to find out the last two times. I lick the tip of his wide head and we both moan at the contact. His skin is smooth and he tastes a bit salty.

I slacken my jaw and slurp him into my mouth, sucking on him like he’s a melting popsicle. I let my saliva run down his length and then I suck the tip as my hand works his shaft. I get a good rhythm going of sucking him in tandem with stroking him and I feel him suddenly swerve off the road, cutting the ignition.

He pulls my head off of him and yanks me over into his lap, thankfully I’m wearing a skirt. His fingers slip inside my skirt and he yanks my thong aside, claiming my mouth in a possessive kiss.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call, I’m a jerk.” He says against my lips. “I missed this pussy.”

Then he’s pulling my core down over his cock and we both moan at the feeling of him filling me. His skin feels so smooth and he slips in my wet pussy, as I grind into him.

“Shit,” he pushes up inside me. “We need a condom.”

“It feels so good, though.” I whine and lift myself up, slamming back down.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

I lock my mouth back onto his and continue riding him, my juices making each movement loud inside the car.

“I’m so wet.” I say as I bring my fingers to my clit, rubbing the swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re soaking my fucking cock.” He angles his hips up and grabs my waist in his hands. “Hang on.” His grin is devastating as he begins to furiously pump up into me.

“I’m coming.” I moan as I feel my pussy tighten and the warmth pool in my belly.

“Come all over me.” He thrusts up into me harder.

I toss my head back and scream his name as my pussy convulses around his thick length. His thrusts become shallow and then he slams me down onto him, groaning my name as he cums inside of me.

I slowly grind on his cock, riding out the aftershocks of my release, and enjoying the small noises he’s making.

“Is it okay that I came in you?” he asks.

“Yes, please.” I fall back over into the passenger seat.

“I think you need your bed and some aspirin.” He chuckles.

“Yes, please.” I repeat, exhaustion coming over me.

I ask Neil to drop me at the gate to avoid questions and head up my driveway. I’m so fucking satisfied right now, I’m practically purring.

I get in the house and hear the TV on in the family room.

“Ivy?” Dad calls out.

“Yeah.” Do I sound drunk?

“You good?”

“Just gonna go to bed.” I call back and rush up the stairs. “Night!”

I get inside my room and shut the door, exhaling with relief that no one came to check on me, I’m not really wanting to hear a lecture about drinking. I crawl into my bed and moan as the soft blankets envelop me in their warmth.

My cell phone begins to ring and I smile as I swipe to answer it, “miss me already?”

“Excruciatingly so.”

My body slams forward at his voice and I automatically begin to tremble, “Dean.”

“I’ve been texting you, are you avoiding me?” His voice is level but I know him well enough to know he’s been drinking.

“Why are you sending me those things?” I ask him. “I haven’t told anyone.”

“It’s hard to believe because your uncle is on my ass and I know he knows the Black Slaughter.”

“My uncle?” I shake my head, “Black Slaughter?”

“Your Uncle Trent here in New York. He paid me a visit a few weeks ago.”

“I haven’t told anyone anything.” My voice is trembling and I feel a tear slip down my cheek. “I just want you to go away.”

“I reformed you, made you into the perfect little obedient student.” He chuckles and the sound sends waves of nausea through me. “Did I not?”

“Yes, you did.” I begin to cry. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

“I believe you.” He croons into the phone.

“You do?”

“Of course, but I need you to prove it.” He says.

“How?”

“Call your uncle off, tell him I am an upstanding citizen and you flourished under my teachings. It’s not a lie exactly, is it?”

“No Dean,” I comply. “It’s not a lie.”

“I expect him to disappear by the end of next week.” He continues, “and when do I get to see my Ivy?”

I never want to see him again but I can’t tell him that because he has too much on me and if my family found out, they would disown me in an instant.

“I don’t know when I’ll be in New York again.” I whisper.

“Your mother is here often, no?”

“Yes, sir.” I whisper, my voice betraying my anxiety.

“I’m sure you will figure it all out, I bought a new red tie and I want to see if it is indeed a match for human blood. Goodnight.” He hangs up the phone.

I am stunned with the phone still to my ear and my heart pounding. How the fuck do I get out of this one?

I fucked her raw.

I’ve never fucked a female raw, I’ve always been meticulous about that shit, and I know what it’s like being raised in a broken home, I never wanted to carry on that cycle. I need to make sure she’s protected and if she’s not we need to get her the morning after pill.

I slap myself on the forehead and turn to groan into my pillow. Ivy gets me so worked up that I lose all fucking common sense. I can’t lose that, I have a future planned, and it doesn’t involve broken homes and baby mamas.

Worrying about it now will do nothing, what’s done is done, and if she doesn’t agree to a pill, then I’ll respect that. But I need her to agree to a pill because she isn’t looking for a fucking relationship. Do I want a fucking relationship? Do I want one with Ivy?

Fuck, I don’t know. I’m still hung up on Charlotte and what happened to her. It’s conflicting and confusing every emotion that is associated with Ivy Greene. Life is so fucking complicated.

“So,” Amelia smirks from across the table. “Where did you run off to last night?”

“Just went for a drive.” I shrug.

“We really appreciate you being here with us, Neil.” Shay pats my hand.

I actually want to be in Whitsborough for the first time since I was thirteen years old and it has everything to do with one fiery girl who sets my soul ablaze.

“You were out pretty late.” Amelia keeps pressing and I shoot her a look.

“Amelia, stop it. Neil is a grown man, he can come and go as he pleases.” Shay chastises her.

“I think Neil has a girlfriend.” She taunts and my chest seizes.

“Really?” Shay looks at me with a wide smile.

“Nope, your daughter has some strange ideas.” I shake my head.

“Amelia is bored, clearly.” Shay tsks as she stands from the table.

“Were you with Ivy last night?” Amelia leans across the table to whisper to me.

“No.” I roll my eyes.

“Are you two together now?”

“Amelia, stop.” I implore.

I get up from the table and head to my room but instead stop at Charlotte’s. I open the door, walk in, and softly close it behind me. In this room, I feel closer to my sister and it doesn’t help the pain settling itself once more in my chest.

I can’t take back my decisions and even if I could, I don’t think I would. I need to admit to myself that I want Ivy Greene and what better place to do that than in the room of the girl I promised to avenge. I miss Charlotte and I love her but holding onto anger for so long is damaging.

It changes a person, sends them down a darkened path, and it’s hard to navigate your way back out. Right now, my heart feels loyal to Charlotte, but there’s also something growing for Ivy and I can’t deny it much longer.

I sit on Charlotte’s bed and look around her clean room. I try to bring back my memories of her and try to pick out points that coincide with what Amelia was saying. Dad thought she was on drugs, Amelia called her a mean girl, and I just can’t picture any of it. Charlotte was sweet with me, always ready for an adventure, and always wanting to be by Ivy’s side.

“Charlotte, you have to forgive me.” I whisper into her room. “I need to know you forgive me.”

I hear the door open and Amelia steps in. “I thought I heard someone in here.”

“I feel lost.” I shake my head.

“I think we all did at one point.” She whispers. “But Charlotte is gone, Neil. She’s not here to dictate your life and I would like to believe she’d want you happy.”

I want to believe that, too. I want to somehow feel that she’s accepting everything and somehow that I have her approval. It’s hard to move on without it. The guilt is tearing me up inside and it will come between Ivy and I eventually. Charlotte will come between us if we don’t figure shit out.

“You can’t live your life for your dead sister.” Amelia says and even though the words are harsh, I understand their meaning.

She’s right of course, I need to start living for me, and I need to start letting go of my grief for my sister. Before I can do that, I need to speak to the other people that knew her, I clearly have an incorrect image, and I need to reconcile that. It’s not to paint her in a bad light, it’s to put her in her own light, and see her for who she really was. I’ll love her regardless.

“You need to talk to Ivy about Charlotte,” Amelia says, like she’s reading my mind. “She knew her best I would think.”

That’s a hard dig but again not something I can deny. Charlotte grew from a child to a teenager with Ivy and I would also assume she knew her best.

“How about you tell me more about how she was with you?” I look at Amelia and her face pinches.

“There’s a lot of bad there.” She whispers. “Are you sure you want to hear that?”

“I need to hear it.” I correct her.

I need to know all about my sister, the good and the bad.

I’ve been sent on a mission because Flower wants authentic maple syrup for her pancakes. She’ll get it because she’s a fucking angel and I would do pretty much anything she asks of me. Mother and Dad are making the pancakes and both stressed I have literally ten minutes to get back.

I feel like I’m on one of those reality TV shows, racing all over Whitsborough, and the grand prize is a stack of pancakes. I pull into the grocery store parking lot and park across three lanes. Whatever, it’s a fucking emergency.

I rush inside and nearly plow down Adam Van Dyke, knocking one of his bags out of his hands, and watching as a cucumber rolls to my feet.

I pick it up and hand it back to him, his eyes narrowing on me, and his mouth flattening into a line.

“I would suggest starting with that sucker in the bedroom next time.” I pat him on the shoulder as I pass. “The woman will be less disappointed.”

I hear his growl of frustration but I don’t have the time to criticize Adam’s anatomy-or lack thereof-because my time is running short, like the very anatomy I’m talking about.

I rush through the aisles and grab up the syrup she asked for and get back to my car in five minutes. That leaves me two to get home and with my driving, that’s more than doable. I pass by Adam’s patrol car and give him a wave before speeding off. He wouldn’t dare run me a ticket with the knowledge I possess about his micro weenie.

I’m home in three minutes and I blame the fucking old lady crossing at the crosswalk in her fucking old person walker. I run in the door and Dad begins to tsk.

“Two minutes late, Ivy.”

“What?” I huff out, “one minute.”

“It was only one minute,” Mother agrees and I stick my tongue out at Dad.

“You still win,” Dahlia grins. “Because you got my favourite syrup.”

“Don’t side with them.” Dad swings his finger between Mother and me, “I’ll ask Aunt Adri to come over and cook your pancakes next time.”

“Oh no.” Dahlia’s eyes widen and she looks truly terrified.

Mother and I burst out laughing and Dad keeps a straight face.

“Oh yes,” he nods, “I bet her pancakes would be to die for.”

“I’m too young to die.” Dahlia squeals and we all break out into laughter.

“I can never sleep in on a Sunday.” Saxon comes into the kitchen yawning.

“Pancakes!” Dahlia exclaims and he smiles at her.

“With your favourite syrup, too.” He ruffles her hair.

“Ivy got it for me.” She nods.

“She’s a good big sister.” Saxon says as he sits.

I’m shocked momentarily by his admission because this is Saxon and compliments or sentiments aren’t his thing. And not because he’s mean but because he really doesn’t feel them or see a need for them.

“Thanks.” I mutter as I sit down beside him.

“Someone needs to tell you something good because I’m afraid you’re gonna drown in all the shit.” He shrugs and grabs some pancakes.

See what I mean?

“Ivy is a great big sister,” Dad agrees and Mother nods at the griddle.

“She’s the best big sister.” Dahlia says around a mouthful of pancakes.

“Alright, alright.” I wave them off and grab a pancake off the stack.

I’m looking over my homework later that evening when my phone pings, sending my heart back into my stomach. I pick it up and smile when I see it’s Neil.

Neil: My dick’s in my hand because I can’t seem to forget what you felt like last night.

Right, we fucked last night without a condom and even though it was irresponsible, I don’t really stress about it, I’ll grab a morning after pill tomorrow.

Me: About that. I am taking care of it. No more trysts without a condom though.

Neil: You sure? I can grab whatever it is you need.

He’s sweet and it makes me weary because it wasn’t too long ago that the guy hated me. He probably always will in a way.

Me: I’m good, now tell me more about what’s in your hand.

He sends me a few videos and before long I’m sliding my hand down my pants, imagining he’s there.

“What the hell does that mean, Charlotte?” I stare right back at her.

“It means,” she takes another sharp corner and the tail end of the car swings out, “that if you don’t give us a chance, there will be no others.”

“You need to pull over right now.” I scream at her, no longer able to keep up with my calm facade.

She laughs maniacally and shakes her head, “why Ivy?”

“Why what?” I grip onto the door as she pulls a U-turn.

“Why have you been doing all this stuff with me? Kissing me and touching me?”

“Because you are beautiful!” I exclaim.

“So, I’m just a pretty face?” Then she snorts and we’re flying around another sharp turn. “If only my daddy knew that all his warnings would be for a girl and not a guy.”

Her head tips back and she laughs, the car swinging into the oncoming traffic lane. Thank god there’s no traffic this late at night.

“Watch the road!” I grab the wheel and bring us back into the proper lane. “Pull over Charlotte before you do something you will regret.”

“I already regret so much!” She screams. “I regret coming to Whitsborough, I regret the pills, and I regret you!”

That last one stings because Charlotte has been my best friend since we’ve been in diapers. I try to tell myself that she’s angry and they’re just words but I can feel the anger rolling off of her.

“You can’t mean that.” My voice sounds small and I feel like I am once again losing someone I love.

“There’s a thin line between love and hate, Ivy.”

I fucking hate Mondays so fucking much. It doesn’t help that I barely slept last night and these dreams of Charlotte are getting more consistent. Digging myself out of the hole after each one is so fucking difficult.

The day drags on and then math takes the fucking cherry off the cake.

“Ivy,” Mr. O’Connor calls me. “Did you hand in your work from this weekend?”

He is sitting at his desk and the room is quiet, everyone turning to look at me curiously. I’m the girl that ignores everyone and I’m rarely called upon by teachers.

“Sure did.” I answer. What the fuck is wrong with him? He saw me hand it in.

“I don’t have it here.” He states and I screw up my face in confusion.

“It has to be there.” I counter.

“See me after class, Miss Greene.”

That’s his plan? Hide my work so I have to stay late after? Is he that desperate to fuck his student? Whatever.

I lay my head on the wooden top of my desk and wait for the end of the day bell, I need to get out of here.

When the bell finally rings, I wait patiently for the asshole to make his move, and then I can turn him the fuck down.

A few minutes after the last student leaves, he’s still sitting at his desk, and I slap the wood on mine.

“What is going on?” I lose my patience. “I handed in my shit and you know it!”

The classroom door opens and Mr. Pratt from Phys-Ed comes into the room. He leans over Mr. O’Connor’s desk and kisses him passionately. What the fuck is happening?

“Ivy looks confused.” Mr. O’Connor states.

“Why am I here?” I ask

“I thought I would introduce you to my partner.” Mr. O'Connor says.

Suddenly, I’m feeling scared and cornered and it reminds me of Dean. They must see the look on my face because they try to backtrack.

“I thought it would be fun.” Mr. O’Connor’s eyebrows lift in surprise.

My heart begins thrumming in my chest and their voices sound like they are floating away. Why would he think I’d want to join in with them both?

I stand quickly, my chair flying back, and crashing to the floor.

“Whoa,” Mr. Pratt looks a little green. “I thought you said she’d be into it?” He stares at Mr. O’Connor who’s watching me hastily grab my bag.

“Let me out.” My voice shakes, I can’t be trapped in here with them both.

I thought it would be fun.

Dean’s voice booms in my ear along with the clap of a leather belt.

“Move!” I scream and both men back up against the blackboard, their hands in the air.

“Ivy, we’re not here to hurt you.” Mr. Pratt tries to placate me but I’m already yanking the classroom door open and running down the hallway.

My brain snaps to autopilot as I run for the car and jump inside the driver’s seat, locking the doors behind me.

A lot of my anxiety is coming from the fact that I have to somehow stop Uncle Trent from looking into Dean and avoid ever seeing him again. I’m fucking done with teachers. What the hell was I thinking, getting involved with Mr. O’Connor?

There’s a banging on my window and I startle, a scream escaping my mouth. I look and see my Aunt Adri standing there, her hands on her hips. I start the car and press the button to roll down the window.

“Oh, hey Aunt Adri.” My voice cracks and she raises a brow.

“You okay, kiddo?” She looks around the parking lot. “I was in my car when I saw you run by.”

“Oh,” I clear my throat, “yeah, I’m okay. I just need to get home for dinner with Dahlia.”

It sounds suspect, it’s not even three in the afternoon and she knows my family has dinner at seven, but I don’t have anything else coming to mind.

“Okay, as long as you’re good.” She looks over her shoulder as Mr. Pratt opens the main doors and sees us together.

I can see his eyes widen from here and Aunt Adri turns away from him, looking at me again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She stands back up. “I love you, Ivy.”

“I love you, too, Aunt Adri.” I nod and then she walks slowly back to her car, watching Mr. Pratt until he turns back inside the school.

Fuck.

I’ve been in my bed since I came home, uniform still on, and the blankets pulled up around my ears. There’s a soft knock on the door and I assume it’s Dahlia coming to check on me.

“Come in.” I call out.

The door opens and there’s no little squeal or footsteps, when I feel the bed dip with weight, I unbury myself to see my mother.

“Hey.” She says softly, pulling the covers away from my face.

“Hey.” My voice comes out as a squeak.

“How was school?” Her hand smooths back the hair on my head and I almost cry from her touch.

“Fine.” I croak.

“You know,” she looks like she’s struggling to piece together what she wants to say, “my childhood was happy but difficult. My teenage years were filled with anger and violence. I want to say my adult life has been amazing and being a mother has been a breeze.”

I sit up at her words because I can feel her struggling to speak about her feelings and I have this problem, too.

“Being your mother has been hard, you gave me the roughest go at parenthood.” My heart begins to sink, “I couldn’t figure out how to parent you, your independence scared the shit out of me. You would scream at me if I tried to tie your shoes, you were that adamant you could do it on your own.” A tear slips down her cheek and I am stunned to my spot on the bed.

“You have this fire inside of you, Ivy, and I just don’t know how to hold you close without being burned. Saxon will tolerate me, even let me love him without walls, and Dahlia is just eager to please everyone, even at the expense of her own happiness. But you wanted to figure everything out on your own and you wanted to do it without anyone interfering and I wanted that for you.

“My mother used to tell me that I was hard to love, that I was more a parent than I was a child, and I never understood what she meant, until you. You are more like me and it scares me.”

“Scares you?”

“Yes,” she nods, “I’m not the best to be like. I am irrational, I like to be in complete control, and I would rather do things on my own regardless if asking for help would make it easier.”

I am all of those things.

“I’m weak in the sense that my happiness relies on others.” She takes my hand, “and when I feel like I’m not needed, I hide myself away.”

Dad has always told me that Mother was the glue to our family, that she brought everyone together, and fought to keep them safe.

“I let you be because I didn’t want to take away your control and I fucked up.” She says, “I’m on your side, Ivy. There’s nothing you could say or do that would change that. I would do everything I can to keep you safe and I would do it gladly.”

“You didn’t fuck up.” I shake my head. “I just always felt like maybe I was a mistake.”

She laughs, a deep melodic sound, and I feel my lips curling up in response.

“You weren’t planned,” she chuckles, “but when I found out I was carrying a piece of your father inside of me, I was so fucking excited. I could see a child with his endless patience, complete acceptance, and loving nature. I couldn’t see a child like me and to be honest, I hoped like hell you would be nothing like me.”

“Why?”

“There are many things you don’t know,” she smiles, “and between your father and I, he is the good one, so pure. Then you were born and even in labour you did things your own way, you came a month early, and when doctors were telling me to hunker down for a long labour, you said fuck that. You were born within twenty minutes of my water breaking.”

I smile because my mother has never taken the time to tell me all these things.

“You came out and the doctor told me I had a girl, I could feel the fear rush through me.” She nods. “It was like I knew you before I even met you. I knew at that moment, I just had my greatest achievement but you would also be my most complicated task. I was scared when he put you in my arms and your eyes opened, so much like mine. Your face was all me and it solidified it when you stared at me and squawked. Not a cry, more like a yell. The doctors and your father laughed but I was fucking petrified.”

She pulls me in and wraps her arms around me, hugging me tight. I breathe in her scent and feel her rapid heartbeat against my ear.

“I was petrified because I knew there would be no other that I could love more and even though you were everything I feared, I was still completely at your mercy. I wanted you to grow into your own, to be the greatest you could be, and I couldn’t be prouder, Ivy. You are strong and you are so much more than I could ever be.” She pulls away and looks down at me, “but I will always be behind you, watching you succeed, and destroying anything that tries to harm you.”

Her words are everything I needed to hear and I wrap my arms around her, finally letting her in.

“I’m sorry about Charlotte.” I whisper.

“So am I, baby,” she kisses my head, “but no matter how hard you try, you can’t save everyone.”

“I screwed up at Johnstone Academy.” I sniff.

“I see it like a necessary screw up, although I still want to kill that teacher, but it brought you home.”

“I’ll try to be a better person.”

“Live your life and learn along the way, that’s the only thing I can tell you. To me, you are perfect but my opinion doesn’t matter, the only opinion that matters is your own. I will always be here to help you, if you need it.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

She kisses the top of my head and stands, “I need to now have a talk with Saxon and explain that telling his teacher she should lose weight is not helpful.”

I snort loudly and we both begin to laugh. She leaves my room and as much as I wish I felt lighter, I don’t. I still have to figure out Dean and now I have Mr. O’Connor and his creepy boyfriend to deal with.

It’s Thursday and a huge storm has cancelled race night at the strip. As much as that pisses me off, it’s nothing near to how I’m feeling about Neil ghosting me yet again. I texted him a few times over the week and got no reply. So, if I see him around town, he’s getting a fucking kick in the dick.

Bright side to this week? Mr. O’Connor and Mr. Pratt have taken a vacation. It eases a bit of the stress that’s been threatening to completely overwhelm me and Neil’s attitude is just the cherry on top.

“Hey, hey.” Aunt Adri strides into math class. Right... downside? Principal Greene has taken over teaching this class until a substitute is found.

She starts with attendance and then assigns us a chapter to review for an upcoming test.

“Do you find it strange that Mr. O’Connor has just disappeared?” A girl to my left asks a guy sitting beside her.

“Who cares? The guy was beyond creepy and all you females were heated for him.”

He’s not wrong.

The final bell rings and everyone stands to pack away their things.

“Have a good evening everyone.” Aunt Adri calls out as students fly out of the classroom.

I slowly make my way to the front, waiting for the kids to all leave, and stand in front of the desk.

“Aunt Adri?”

“Yes, Ivy?” Her deep brown eyes look up at me. Aunt Adri is classically beautiful with dark features and olive skin, she rarely wears makeup.

“What happened with Mr. O’Connor?”

“He’s on vacation with his partner Mr. Pratt.” Her eyes never wander from mine but I can sense a lie, she’s just gotten good at covering them up. “Why? Do you have anything to tell me about them?”

“No.” I shake my head, “but Mr. O’Connor didn’t mention a vacation.”

“Must have been impromptu.” She shrugs. “Are you worried about my teaching skills?” Her grin is wide and I find myself giving her one back.

“No.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She chuckles and goes back to grading.

“Goodnight.” I call as I leave the classroom.

I get to my locker and Carmelo has Cam in a headlock.

“Heathens,” I kick Carmelo in his ass as I walk by them.

They break apart, laughing and swatting at each other, as I open my locker.

“Your teacher buddy is gone.” Carmelo says as he leans against a locker, trying to catch his breath.

“So is his boyfriend.” Cam chirps from my other side.

“And?” I ask them.

“Did you get him fired?” Carmelo asks and I shut my locker door.

“I didn’t. Why? What have you heard?” I look at Cam because he’s always been the eyes and ears.

“Alright,” he stands up straight, “here’s the thing, my friend Andrew lives two houses down from Mr. Pratt, okay? Andrew says Mr. Pratt is a little strange and that girl scouts don’t knock on his door.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with a vacation?” I huff.

“Hear me out.” He raises his hands, “so, he watches his house because Andrew is a fucking loser and only has me as a friend.”

“Also a loser.” Carmelo laughs when Cam gives him the finger.

“Andrew says Mr. Pratt’s car didn’t come home last night. Not weird, right? He could’ve been at Mr. O’Connor’s place having his ass rammed… I digress.”

“I’m slightly turned on.” Carmelo mutters.

“Same.” I agree. “Mr. O’Connor does like a good ramming.”

We’re all fucked.

“Moving on.” Cam says as we begin to walk out of the school, “Andrew is somewhat of an insomniac and says he heard Mr. Pratt’s car arrive home late in the night, like two in the morning.”

“So?” Carmelo snorts, “was he walking funny?”

“That’s the weird part,” Cam stops and looks at us. “A woman got out of the car and went into Mr. Pratt’s house.”

“That is strange.” Carmelo states.

“Right?” Cam nods, “if he’s catching home runs from Mr. O’Connor’s bat then why is there a woman?”

“Can you not?” I stare at him.

“Sorry.” He shrugs.

“Did Andrew see what she looked like?” Carmelo asks.

“Nah, dressed in black, went into the house, and never came out.”

“So, she’s still in there?” I ask.

“I doubt it. Maybe she went out the back.” Cam says as we resume walking to our cars.

“This shit is weird.” I murmur.

“Whatever.” Carmelo shakes it off. “I have a fight tonight and you both are coming to watch.”

“I hate watching you fight.” I whine. “You always take such a beating. Plus, there’s going to be a storm.”

“You love driving in the snow, stop giving me excuses, and it’s at the strip.” His smile is wide. “The word is getting around and it’s going to be a huge turn out.”

“You’re fighting in the fucking snow?” I hiss at him.

“Should help with the swelling.” Cam high fives him.

“You’re both losers.” I unlock my car door.

“Ten tonight.” Carmelo kisses my cheek. “Don’t be late.”

“Neil!” Amelia skids into the kitchen. “There’s going to be a fight at the strip tonight and you’re taking me.”

“I’m fucking tired.” I shake my head. “I can’t tonight.”

Vincent Greene has been riding my ass all week, having me drive all over the place, and being an all around gopher. I get home every night, put some food in my stomach, and die in my bed. Only to do it all over again the next day.

“Carmelo is fighting.” She stomps her foot, “he’s really good.”

“Ivy’s cousin?” I ask her.

Ivy, I haven’t spoken to her in a few days and even though I miss her, I had to put the brakes on our hooking up. I don’t want to carry on any further without figuring shit out. I refuse to be that guy.

“Yeah!” Her eyes light up like she’s convinced me.

“Nah, I’m good.” I stand up from the table. “I’m seriously tired.”

“Fine,” she walks out of the kitchen, “I’ll just drive myself.”

I try to ignore the words, knowing exactly what game she’s playing, and trying to just get my ass to bed. But nope, big brother conscience steps in and clocks me in the chin.

“Fuck.” I curse and walk out behind her. “We are not staying late, I have to be up early tomorrow morning.”

“Okay!” She squeals and grabs our jackets.

By the time we get to the strip, snowflakes are coming down in thick white puffs, and the ground already has a few centimeters gathered. It’s not frigid cold though and that means we can chill outside to watch two guys beat the shit out of each other.

The human race has come a long way.

“There’s Cam!” Amelia exclaims, grabbing my hand and dragging me to Cam and Ivy.

Cam scoops Amelia up into a big hug while I stand off to the side, my eye on Ivy. She gives me a glance and a slight nod of her head, but that’s it. I guess I deserve that. She looks just as compelling as always in a black puffer jacket, loose beanie, and furry boots. Her hair is loose around her shoulders and her cheeks are rosy from the cold.

I want to pull her in my arms and give her my warmth. See? This is the shit that happens whenever I see her and all intelligent thought leaves me. I lean against a light post, waiting for these guys to start the fight so I can go home and sleep. It’s been a long week and it’s not even over yet.

“Did your phone blow up in your face?” Ivy’s asks as she leans on the other side of the post.

“No.” I shake my head.

“Pity.”

I chuckle and reach over to flick her nose. “I am dead tired because your father is a workaholic and honestly, I’m just trying to work through my feelings.”

“You could’ve just told me that.” She huffs.

“I guess but then I wouldn’t be a typical guy.” I grin at her.

“You’re not a typical guy, Neil.” She smiles and turns back to watch her cousin.

She doesn’t think I’m a typical guy, so what does that mean? What does she think of me? Am I more than a hookup she calls when she’s drunk and wants dick? Does she see a relationship eventually? Even though she said she doesn’t want one?

The crowd roars when a guy steps out onto the road in front of Carmelo. He’s bigger and meaner looking.

“Who’s the guy?” I ask Ivy.

“Some guy from the next town over.” She brushes the hair out of her face. “I don’t even want to watch this.” She turns her head to look at me, “want to go fuck in your car instead?”

I groan so loud that people nearest to us look over curiously.  “Yes,” I look at her, “but no.”

“I figured.” She blows out her breath and it wisps in front of her face then dissipates.

“You’re the typical guy here,” I grin at her, “you know that right?”

“I’ve heard it a few times.” She grins back, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth.

She’s so fucking gorgeous and I am just about to change my mind about fucking her when the crowd roars. I look over in time to see Carmelo taking three quick raps to the face and then falling onto his ass.

“Is he any good at this?” I ask.

“Yes?” She makes it sound like a question and we both cringe when Carmelo takes a kick to the ribs.

Then, Carmelo pops to his feet and starts swinging hard blows at the other guy, who has his arms up around his face. Carmelo’s punches to his body are precise and solid, bringing the guy to his knees.

Carmelo’s face is completely covered in blood and he spits a bright red wad onto the snow, the colour stark against the white fluff. There’s a blank look in his eyes, like he sealed up his humanity, and let his body finish the fight. It’s the look I would imagine on a soldier's face just before he pulls the trigger.

Carmelo pulls his right arm back and slams his fist forward, right into the other guy’s temple. Effectively knocking him out, his body falling forward, and his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“Come get your boy.” Carmelo calls out to a small group gathered off to the side, “he’ll freeze in the snow.”

At least he has decency.

“That was quick, thank god.” Ivy mumbles and then looks at me. “I should go check on him… take care.”

She starts to walk away but I grab her arm, pulling her towards me, and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. I tuck her head into my chest and rest my chin on top, her arms finally coming around me.

“Give me a little time.” I whisper and feel her head nod. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Okay.” Her voice is small and muffled.

She pulls back and smiles up at me, her eyes watering. I lean down and press a quick chaste kiss to her mouth, then pull away before I lose all will power.

“Goodnight, Neil.” She says as she backs up.

“Goodnight, Ivy.”

She turns and walks away, her boots crunching the snow. With each crunch my heart drops, like it knows she’s pulling away, and I’m letting her.

“Let’s get you home, old man.” Amelia pats my back, giving me a knowing smile.

The red and blue lights flash in my rear-view and I glance up, seeing a police car behind me. I look to my speed and see I’m just under the speed limit, it’s a fucking blizzard. Why am I getting pulled over?

I ease onto the shoulder and pull out my license and registration. The snow is coming down hard now so I don’t see the figure until he’s practically up on my window.

Adam Van Dyke.

He bends and motions for me to put down my window. Apprehension skates along my neck and down my spine as I push the button to drop my window down half way.

“Hey.” He says his voice even. “I noticed your rear right tire is pretty low, are you feeling drag when turning?”

“No.” I exhale the breath I’m holding. “I haven’t really checked them though.”

“I have a pump in the car, I’ll grab it.” He turns back and walks towards his car.

I get out of my car and head to the rear, trying to see the tires through the whiteout of snow. Without warning, a body slams into my back and I’m shoved up against the trunk.

“What the fuck?” I scream.

“You little bitch,” Adam snarls into my ear. “You little fucking whore.”

“Get off of me, you pig!” I struggle and both of us start slipping in the wet snow at our feet.

“How about now?” I feel the cold sting of metal against my temple and freeze. “That’s right. Now you are going to do everything I say, clear?”

When I don't answer him, he taps the barrel of the gun to my forehead, and I nod.

“Good little whore.” He chuckles, “take off your clothes.”

“What?” He can’t mean for me to get naked in this fucking blizzard.

“You heard me.” The gun once again hits me on the side of my head. “Now.”

I should be terrified right now I know that but instead, I’m numb and having what feels like an out of body experience. My brain already knows what’s coming because my body has endured it many times, it knows its coping mechanisms. Adam Van Dyke won’t get the pleasure of a scared and crying girl.

My clothes hit the snow one by one and I’m stepping out of my boots to pull off my pants. I’m standing here in my bra and socks.

“You can leave your bra and socks on.” He sneers. “It’s cold.”

I hear him undo his belt buckle and the zing of his zipper hits my ears.

“Bend over Ivy, just like the whore you are.”

I do as he asks and pray this is over quickly, I swallow thickly at the feel of burning in my eyes. I don’t want to cry but being here in this situation again and once more at the mercy of a predator feels like more than just bad luck.

His hands spread me open and his foot kicks apart my legs, my feet slightly frozen to the icy snow. I feel his fingers, wet with his saliva, coat my dry pussy, and then he’s shoving himself inside of me. It’s painful and humiliating but I’ve been down this road many times, I know what I have to do to make it easier on myself.

The shock tears through me when I feel a metal cuff clasp around my right hand and then he yanks my left behind me, cuffing them together. He lifts my arms up and shoves me face down onto the trunk’s metal, the cold surface cutting through my skin.

Then he’s yanking on the cuffs, pulling me harder into his thrusts, and a whimper escapes me. It feels too much like Dean and his many ties and I’m having a hard time keeping it together.

“Maybe I should’ve brought that cucumber to fuck your asshole with, bet you regret saying that shit to me now, bitch.”

I don’t regret it, what I do regret is how naive I was to get out of the fucking car in the first place, all that’s happening right now is because I’m way too trusting of fucking monsters. He picks up the force of his thrusts and his movements are smoother now that there’s some wetness, but judging from the pain, it’s most likely blood. Bet that will get him off later when he sees it coating his little dick.

I concentrate on the cold metal touching my cheek, the large snowflakes dropping on my face, and wiggle my toes to make sure they’re not frost bitten. All of these things to distract me from the pain being inflicted between my legs.

He jars my face across the trunk on his last few thrusts and groans loudly, spilling himself inside of me. He pulls out and steps away from me, humming a fucking song.

“It’s cold, Adam.” My words are choppy from the chattering of my teeth, “undo the cuffs.”

“Oh, it’s cold, is it?” He chuckles. “Let me help you with that.”

I stand up, holding my hands out, and waiting for him to unlock the cuffs. The first splashes of warm liquid hitting my thighs confuse me and I turn my head to see what’s happening. Adam has his dick in his hand and he’s pissing all over my ass and legs. Humiliation and shock keeps me locked in place until he’s done, tucking himself into his pants, and striding forward.

“I think we have an understanding now, right?” He’s back to sounding like Officer Van Dyke, as if nothing fucking happened. “You will stay away from me and my family. If you come around any of us ever again, I’ll pay you another visit.”

He doesn’t scare me because I learn from my fucking mistakes and I adapt really fucking fast, he will never get me alone again. He undoes the cuffs and I stand stone still, not wanting to engage or enrage him further, I want him to leave.

“You reek of piss,” he tuts as his voice fades. “You should shower.”

I bend down to pick up my clothes, grabbing my pants and hauling them on, the pain making me wince. I hear his car start and quickly step into my boots, using my sweater to cover my chest. He passes me and sounds his sirens for a second, the noise jolting me into action. I just want to get home.

I throw on my jacket and run to my driver’s seat, the car still running, and slam the door shut, locking it immediately. The scent of ammonia taints the car and I finally let myself break down, my sobs so loud in the car’s interior.

It’s been a few days of trying to text Ivy without a response. I guess she’s giving me a taste of my own medicine and I’m finding it hard to fucking swallow. I almost broke down and asked her own father where she’s been, but I didn’t want to have to answer questions.

Today is Monday and I’ve asked Mr. Greene to let me go early, he obliged so here I am sitting in my car in the parking lot of Precious Blood Academy. Weird fucking name.

I don’t see her car here but maybe she rode with her cousin. High schools all look pretty much the same, tall, dark, and looming. Not welcoming and certainly not a safe place. My high school life consisted of gangs and drugs, that’s why I studied so fucking hard to get out of that. To try and provide Mom and Charlotte with a different life. This school looks no different, just filled with richer kids, and that could quite possibly be even worse.

The ring of  the bell brings me out of my thoughts and I watch as students rush out. Some to cars and others to waiting school buses, but I don’t see her.

I get out and lean against my car, hoping she’s late, and hoping I haven’t fucked up her schedule. Does she have last period off? Maybe she gets out earlier than others. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see her cousin strolling to his car.

“Hey.” I call out to him. “Carmelo!”

He turns and I wince at the motley of bruising on his face.

“What’s up?” He asks.

“I’m looking for Ivy.”

“She’s been homesick for a few days.” He says. “What do you need from her that you haven’t already taken?”

Well, I guess I deserve that.

“Just checking in on her.”

“She’s fine.” He snaps and I get the feeling things aren’t fine.

“I’ll have to drop by her house then.” I shrug and turn to my car.

“Her mother would eat you alive,” he huffs, “and then that would make Ivy worse.”

“Worse how?”

“She has these episodes.” He runs his hand through his hair, “depression hits her hard and she doesn’t want to leave her room.”

“When did that start?”

“When her grandma died and then… Charlotte.” He begins to look uncomfortable.

“I don’t want to cause problems,” I tell him. “I just want to see her.”

“So do I.” He exhales, “she’s my best friend but it’s hard to get through to her right now. We just have to wait it out.”

Fuck that.

“Alright.” I nod. “Your face looks like shit.”

“Thanks.” He grins wide and heads back to his car.

“Neil?” I hear Amelia and turn to see her with the group of mean girls.

“Hey.” I nod at her.

Her friend Vanessa is salivating at the mouth and I have the overwhelming urge to tell her to fuck off.

“What are you doing here?” Amelia asks.

“Need a ride?”

“No, I’m riding with Veronica.” Right, Veronica, not Vanessa.

“Cool.” I turn and open the door. “See you at home.”

“Okay.” She bites her lip and looks slightly worried.

“Everything is fine.”

She nods and the tension leaves her body.

“Is your brother single?” I hear Veronica ask as I’m shutting the door.

Not a chance, bitch.

I hate that Ivy’s house is locked up like Fort Knox. I’ve been parked on the street by her gate for hours and just saw her dad pull in. Maybe I could text Mr. Greene and tell him I have a question about a car, but that sounds stupid.

The gates start to open and I look for the car that’s exiting, only to see a small figure walking to the road. Ivy walks slowly, her hoodie pulled up on her head, and approaches my car. My heart is beating wildly and I’m craving for a look at her face.

She opens the passenger door and slowly sits in the seat, lightly closing the door behind her.

“My family thinks you’re stalking me.” She states quietly, her voice void of any emotion. “We can see you on the cameras.”

Well shit.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, I was worried.”

“I’m fine.” Robotic.

“Are you?” I reach out and touch her arm. She pulls away and sucks in a breath.

“I just haven’t been feeling well.”

“Alright,” I pull my hand back and scratch my head. “Did your phone blow up in your face?”

“Nope.” She answers but I see a slight curve on her lips.

“Pity.”

“I’m just not feeling good lately, I need some time to forget.” She whispers.

“Forget what?”

“Forget life.” She turns to open the car door and I stop her with my hand on her arm.

“I’m not asking you to explain to me what’s going on,” I twist a lock of her hair around my finger, “but could you please just answer a text? Once a day?”

“I don’t know where my phone is.” She sounds on the verge of tears. “I think I lost it.”

“In your house?”

“No,” she sucks in a large breath. “At the strip maybe.”

It sounds like a lie but I don’t know which part exactly.

“Okay. I’ll send you a new phone.”

Her eyes finally turn and land on mine, air escapes me when I see the depth of their despair.

“You’re going to buy me a new phone?” She sounds sceptical.

“Mr. Greene works me hard but he pays me really well.” I smile at her.

I get no reaction.

“Just receive the package and answer a text a day.”

“I’ll try.” She whispers, her voice breaking.

Then she gets out of my car and slowly walks back through the gates, the sound of them closing behind her deafening.

What happened after I saw her at the strip? What triggered this?

It’s been a week and I still can’t bear to be around people. Seeing Neil a few days ago almost sent me right back into the black depth I’ve been slowly clawing my way out of.

This would happen every few months in New York and usually after Dean took my punishments to depraved levels. Being pissed on is a new level for me.

I did receive a new phone from Neil yesterday and it’s still sitting on my bed, in its box. I’ve been trying to work myself up to open it and see what his texts say.

“I helped him set it up.” Saxon says at my doorway.

Number one rule of my depressive states… my room door stays open at all times. So, I have no choice but to endure my family.

“It’s replaced your old phone. What happened to the other phone?” He asks.

“Lost it.” My voice croaks from misuse. And all my collection of photos is lost with it. Everything I filed away to remind myself that I made my own choices, gone.

“He’s persistent and I don’t know how much more time you have until he’s banging our front door down.”

Then Saxon leaves my doorway and I hear his door open and shut. Lucky fucker can close his door.

I grab the phone off the top of a pile of textbooks and open the box, my heart picking up speed for the first time this week. Aunt Adri has been dropping off my homework all week and I haven’t even cracked the cover on one textbook.

I pull the phone out and there’s a little folded up piece of paper under it. I unfold it and feel the corners of my mouth twitch.

Don’t waste it, Greene.

I swipe my thumb across the screen and see it has indeed been hooked up to my old number. I have a few messages from Carmelo, Cam, and there’s Neil’s number but the name says, ‘Hotter than Sin’. What a loser.

I open his messages first and the twitching in my lips turns into a small smile. There are three.

Hotter than Sin: This phone cost me a small fortune. Tell your father I need a raise.

Hotter than Sin: Today I went with your father to pick up a Ford Thunderbolt. I fell in love for the first time.

I snort at that one because I know the feeling of seeing these cars for the first time.

Hotter than Sin: You’ve broken the rules and now I need to figure out how to break into your house.

A small giggle escapes me and I begin to type him a message.

Me: Hey.

That’s all I got right now, I just feel so tired and mentally I’m drained.

Hotter than Sin: You owe me three messages. That one doesn’t count, Greene.

Me: I smell terrible.

Hotter than Sin: Ew. WTF?

I giggle again.

Me: I have a mountain of homework.

Hotter than Sin: Delinquent.

The smile on my face is beginning to hurt my cheeks, it’s been that long since the muscles were used.

Me: I hate when this happens.

I’m not sure what makes me tell him that but it’s there and I don’t want to take it back.

Hotter than Sin: Until tomorrow, Greene.

He doesn’t try to pry information out of me and it’s refreshing. Besides, I wouldn’t say shit anyways so he probably figured that. I do fucking smell and it’s seeping into my bed blankets. I crinkle my nose and sit up slowly. It’s just a shower, I can do it.

The pain I experienced between my legs from Adam’s assault is now just a dull ache and my body-especially my hair-is screaming to be cleaned. I slowly get out of bed and groan when the weight of my body causes my legs to shake. I shuffle slowly to the washroom and stop in front of the mirror. I look like hell.

I have dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, my eyes themselves have red lines throughout, and my skin looks sallow and green. Why did I let my mind consume me again?

“Ivy?” Mother’s voice calls from my room door.

“Bathroom.”

I hear her padding over my carpet and then she’s standing at the washroom door. She’s giving me a once over and I can only imagine what she’s thinking.

“What triggered it?” She asks. “Was it a bad dream about Charlotte? Saxon says you’ve been having them.” Of course he told her but it’s a better explanation than the truth.

“Yeah.”

“Do we need to go see Dr. Kahale?” She looks worried.

“I’m okay now.” I try to assure her, “I’m going to take a shower and start some homework.”

Her eyes brighten a bit and she runs her knuckles over my cheek. “I left you some soup on the table by your bed.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Neil: I bet you changed my name back, huh?

His message comes through the next day as I’m sitting on my bed pouring over homework.

Neil: Don’t use up your answer on that one. It doesn’t matter.

Neil: What’s your favourite colour?

What the fuck is he doing? I’m once again smiling at the screen of my phone.

Me: Green.

Neil: Makes sense.

I snort and throw my phone back on my bed, my chest is beginning to feel lighter and my head a little clearer. Soon, the idea of leaving my house won’t feel like the end of the world. Anger is slowly replacing my devastation and I want nothing more than to hurt Adam Van Dyke for even thinking he could get away with what he did to me.

“I ordered pizza since Mom, Dad, and Dahlia are gone to New York for the weekend.” Saxon says from the doorway.

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Someone needs to be here in case you decide to try and kill yourself.” Then he’s walking back down the hallway.

Typical Saxon.

Neil: I had a dream last night.

Neil: I dreamt that an angel came to me and gifted me glasses that would give me the power to see a person’s soul.

Neil: I saw my sister’s soul, it was murky and cloudy. I woke up really sad and couldn’t go back to sleep.

Neil: What is your favourite food?

Me: Charlotte’s soul was prismatic, shining in pristine technicolour. Pizza.

He doesn’t answer me back and I leave it alone. I know Neil is struggling to come to terms with his sister’s death and my role in it. One day, we will have to talk about it and I will have to tell him the truth because he deserves it and I need to tell it at least once.

I wonder if he saw my soul in his dream?

Neil: If I tell you I’m outside, would you let me in?

It’s Saturday evening and even though I’m feeling better, I don’t want to be near anyone. At the same time, if it weren’t for Neil I would still be wrapped up in my bed, stinking like a rotting corpse.

Neil: Don’t mind me, I’m not freaking out waiting for your answer.

Shit.

Me: You’re here?

Shit.

Neil: Yeah. Well on your street again, like a stalker.

Shit!

Neil: No pressure. I can leave.

Me: Wait.

The part that wants to see his face wins out over the anxiety of seeing him and I pull on a hoodie, opening the gate with the app on my phone.

Me: Come up.

I’m watching the video surveillance on my phone and the second I see the hood of his car, my heart is in my throat. Just when I thought I must be having a heart attack, he steps out and my heart begins to pound, moving my whole chest.  He looks good, happy, and I’m petrified that I might have to pretend to be those things.

I open my front door and then back up to sit on the stairs as he comes up the porch. He looks at me and gives me a small smile as he steps into the house, closing the door behind him. He doesn’t say anything, just reaches down to remove his boots, and then hangs his jacket on the hook.

“Your dad said something about being in New York this weekend, and he may have asked if I’d be stalking you.”

“Dad asked you to come by?” I’m a little shocked by that.

“Just asked if I’d be stalking.” He shrugs. “Figured I wouldn’t let him down.”

There it is again, the slight quirk of my mouth, and then the overwhelming need to cry. Not because I’m sad, but because for the first time ever, someone has been able to reach me through my fog of depression and slowly draw me out.

“Oh,” he snaps his fingers and reaches into his jacket, “I brought a list of movies I like and thought we could try to have a marathon. I assume you have Netflix?” He looks at me over his shoulder.

I nod.

“Great. I ordered pizza, you can have the Hawaiian because I think it’s blasphemy to put pineapples on pizza. Saxon and I will have the meat lovers.”

“Saxon?” My voice is raspy.

“He’s been my spy inside.” He nods.

Seriously? Saxon? He sees the look on my face and grins.

“We’re besties now.”

“Besties sound like something adolescent girls scream at slumber parties.” Saxon’s monotone words hit me from behind.

“You’re an adolescent.” Neil raises his brow.

“Are we going to paint our nails and sing Taylor Swift songs, too?” Saxon reaches the stair I’m sitting on and pats my head.

“I like Taylor Swift.” Neil gives Saxon a confused look as he passes him and goes to the family room.

“Figured as much.” Saxon retorts.

“He’s fucking mean.” Neil looks at me with shock and a chuckle escapes me.

“Yeah, he can be.” I nod.

About a half an hour later, our pizzas arrive and the three of us settled in to watch Transformers, the first movie on Neil’s list. There are six of these movies and Neil says we have to watch all of them.

By the third movie, I am nudging a sleeping Saxon, and telling him to go to bed. Neil is also looking a bit tired but I’m used to little sleep.

Saxon gets up and drags his feet out of the room, heading to bed and Neil restarts the movie. When Neil and I were kids and Charlotte, too, we would always watch movies. They were my first friends outside of family and the three of us had a bond until Neil matured, refusing to chill with us girls anymore.

Sitting here with him, watching movies, and eating pizza, is both heartwarming and heartbreaking. I miss Charlotte and at the same time I can feel something solidifying between Neil and me.

He senses my eyes on him and turns to look at me, quirking a brow.

“What?” He asks.

“Do you have full sleeve tattoos, too?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “Ma would kill me. Just my chest and back so I can cover them when I’m a doctor.”

“You still want to be a surgeon?” I’m surprised because I remember him saying that when we were younger.

“No,” he chuckles. “Sports medicine now.”

“Wow, that’s impressive.”

“What about you Ivy? What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“Race Car driver.” I reply.

“Still?” He has a huge smile on his face.

“Yeah, but Mom says I have to go to college for something. So, I’m going to major in business.” I shrug.

“Nice.” He smiles.

“What are they?”

“Huh?”

“Your tattoos, I saw them briefly… before,” I gesture towards the kitchen and then feel my face heat when he grins.

“I have a lot of things for family on my chest and then my back is a full dragon.”

“That’s cool.” I nod.

We settle back into the movie and by the fifth movie, he’s snoring softly beside me. I turn off the TV and stand from the couch, nudging him with my foot.

“Sorry.” He stretches and his shirt crawls up his stomach.

I panic a little because what if he thinks this is like his last few visits and he wants a quick fuck before he leaves? I can feel the blood drain from my face and my chest begin to tighten in fear.

He stands and his brows come together in the center when he looks over my face.

“You look like you’re going to be sick, Ivy.” He reaches out to touch my face and I stumble back a few steps.

“I can’t sleep with you right now.” I blurt out and then slap my hands over my mouth.

“What?” He looks confused. “I didn’t come here for that. Is that why you think I’m here?”

“I just…” I begin to shake my head and my vision blurs as my eyes fill with tears.

“I’m going to text you when I get home.” He walks by me and heads to the front door. “Then I’m going to text you tomorrow. Answer me okay?”

He’s putting on his boots and jacket.

“Okay.” I whisper.

“Goodnight, Ivy. Make sure you close the gate behind me.”

Then he’s out of the house and I feel like I can breathe once again.

Ivy was triggered by something physical.

I can see it in all her reactions and I don’t know how to make her confide in me. I can’t tell if it’s something that happened recently or an older incident, but Ivy is showing classic signs of PTSD. This isn’t regular depression.

I get home and the house is quiet, Shay and Amelia must be sleeping. I shoot a quick text to my mom and then head up to my room.

Once I’m in bed, I fire off what will be the beginning of my efforts in getting Ivy to open up to me.

Me: When we were younger, Charlotte and I begged Mom for a dog.

Me: After months of bothering her, Mom agreed and we got a puppy. It was from the shelter so we didn’t know what type it was.

Me: But this puppy got BIG. He also had a vicious streak when it came to his food.

Ivy: I remember.

I’m glad she remembers because I’m hoping she can somehow connect to this story and open up to me.

Me: He bit me one day when I was feeding him. I have the scars on my wrist still.

Ivy: I remember Charlotte saying you had to get rid of the dog.

Me: I am still afraid of dogs.

She doesn’t immediately text me back and I hope she realizes what I am trying to get at. That I can see she has a fear of something or someone and I know no one else knows about it, because as much as I’ve talked shit about the Greenes since Charlotte’s death, they really care about their own.

I settle into bed and decide to let her stew, I’ll talk to her again tomorrow. Just as I’m about to fall asleep my phone pings.

I reach over and grab it, anxiously swiping it open to read her message,

Ivy: Once bitten, twice shy.

Sundays are always lazy days for me, but I have a certain brunette with ocean eyes on my mind, and I know I won’t be able to relax until I speak to her.

I’ve come to accept that I have feelings for Ivy, the type that could grow into something more if I let them, and I want to believe that Charlotte would be happy for me.

On my quest to find out about Charlotte in the last few months of her life, I’ve spoken to Amelia, and some of the things she’s told me are brutal. She says Charlotte was extremely moody, anger being the most prevalent mood, and physically violent if triggered.

Amelia showed me a scar on her calf when Charlotte threw a toy at her and it lodged into her skin. She pulled out papers she had kept that Charlotte used to slip under her door.

Ugly whore.

Dyke bitch.

Die lesbian.

All really angry, deep pressed pen strokes into the paper, and nothing like the Charlotte I knew. As much as I want to believe my sister could never do such things, I also see the lasting effects it’s had on Amelia, and I can’t disbelieve her anymore.

She says my dad was sure Charlotte was doing drugs but unsure how he found out. Only that they fought a lot about it and he was worried when she’d go back home to me and Mom. Was she getting drugs from our high school? It’s possible, because that place was teeming with enough drugs to fill all the local pharmacies.

Amelia says she heard him asking her to give him the pills frequently. Which would make the most sense because Charlotte didn’t smoke and was petrified of needles. But then again, what the fuck do I actually know about my sister?

There is someone that would know everything but Ivy is fucking fragile right now and I don’t want her pushed over the edge. I also can’t keep pushing it off too much longer, I want to show Ivy I can help her be relationship material but first, I need to reconcile all the things I didn’t know about Charlotte.

Only when I know the complete truth will I be able to move on and I want to move on with Ivy.

NEIL: Have you done anything harder than weed?

Me: I’m assuming you mean recreationally?

Neil: Yeah.

Me: Once. After my Grandma died.

It was the worst experience of my life and that night ended with a catastrophic event. That’s why I swear off the hard stuff and stick to the mild shit. Like weed.

Neil: What was it?

Am I being interrogated? And what do I say if he asks where I got it from? What’s making him even ask these questions?

Me: Oxy.

There it’s out but if he asks where and how I got it, I’m not answering him. I breathe with relief when the line of questioning stops.

“Ivy!” I hear Flower’s little voice as the front door opens, “Saxon! Did you guys miss me?”

I step out of my room at the same time Saxon does and we both head down the stairs.

“Mommy and Daddy found another old car!” She giggles when I pick her up and kiss her cheek.

“Cool.” Saxon says and kisses her other cheek.

Mom and Dad come in the house and give us both hugs. Then Mom heads straight upstairs to her room, she looks exhausted and there’s what looks to be a bruise on the edge of her jaw.

“Did she have a fight this weekend?” I ask Dad.

“Nah,” Dad replies, his eyes following her up the stairs, “she took a hit while sparring with Uncle Trent.”

Uncle Trent never gets the jump on Mom and I see his jaw clenching, telling me that he’s not being completely honest.

“Thanks for sticking a stalker on me this weekend.” I tell Dad, changing the subject.

“He’s a good kid,” he smiles at me, “and you guys used to be tight. Thought you could help each other forget the hard things you’re going through for a short time.”

“He wants to bone her.” Saxon states.

“What the fuck?” I turn on him.

“Oh!” Dahlia squeals, “five dollars, Ivy!”

“What do you know about boning?” My dad chuckles as he locks Saxon into a headlock, “let’s go discuss it further.”

I laugh as Dad drags Saxon into the family room.

“What’s boning?” Dahlia asks me.

I step out of my car and stare across the parking lot towards Precious Blood Academy. I decided I was ready to come back despite feeling nauseous this morning and wanting to crawl back in bed.

This recent bout of depression has taken its toll more so than the others, I’m tired, and my body feels like lead, but it was time to drag myself out.

I walk through the large wooden doors and head to my locker, I have a bag stuffed with ten textbooks and there’s no way I’m carrying this around.

Lucky me, Veronica, Amber, and Tanya are standing in a small group as I’m making my way by.

“Oh look,” Veronica sneers, “she didn’t kill anyone else after all.”

I stop at the vitriol in her words and turn to look in her face.

“What’s up, Veronica?” I drop my bag, “not enough attention from me since I’ve been back?”

“My sister got enough of that.” She huffs, “you ruined her.”

“Veronica,” Tanya tries to grab her arm, “don’t.”

“Ruined her? How?” I ask this time getting right up in her face.

“You turned her into something like you.” Her spit flies with the force of her words.

“Like me?”

“Stop!” Tanya yanks Veronica back, “you can’t say shit like that.”

“My parents hate her now!” Veronica screams.

“Because she dated a girl?” I tsk.

“It’s your fault!” Veronica screams at me and I laugh.

“Girl, homosexuality isn’t contagious,” my eyes land on Tanya, “ask her.”

Tanya’s mouth falls open and her face turns a bright red.

“What?” Veronica looks at her.

“She kissed me the first year of high school and went on to date tons of boys.” I clap, “she’s normal.”

I pick up my backpack and look back at the three of them, Tanya looks like she might faint and the other two are staring at her like she may very well be contagious. Stupid assholes.

The day drags on and when it comes to math, I see we have a new teacher. Not a substitute, an actual new teacher and she’s here for the rest of the semester.

When the bell rings, I’m out of there just as quickly as the others, and anxious to ask Aunt Adri about the situation.

Aunt Adri’s office is huge with large floor to ceiling oak bookcases and it’s eerily similar to Dean’s. That’s why I tend not to go in there and usually have her secretary go get her.

“Hey Ivy,” Aunt Adri’s voice is sweet and soothing, “great to have you back.”

“Thank you for bringing me my work all week.” I smile.

“No biggie. What’s up?”

“Mr. O’Connor has been replaced?” I drop my voice so the secretary can’t hear.

“Yes, he resigned last week.” She tells me. “Something about finding better opportunities.”

I guess that’s good, right? One less thing I have to stress over, and this way he’s not trying to corner me into threesomes. I just can’t shake the lingering tendrils of doubt and I wonder if there isn’t more to it. I brush it off because honestly, I have enough shit on my fucking plate and this is a gift.

“Okay.” I grin. “Thanks!”

“Have a good night, sweetie.” She blows me a kiss and heads back into her office.

Good riddance, Mr. O’Connor, wherever the hell you are.

ME: Your favourite subject at school?

Yesterday I asked her about drugs and when she said Oxy, my stomach landed at my feet.

Mom has had severe back pain for twelve years now due to a severe car accident. She even had surgery but she is prescribed Oxycodone for days when her pain is unbearable.

She doesn’t like to take it and leaves it for days she feels almost immobile. Charlotte had every opportunity to take those pills and Mom trusted us enough to never actually track them.

Charlotte could’ve been the one to bring Ivy the Oxy and Charlotte herself could’ve been taking them. It makes me so fucking sick that I didn’t see it.

As I’m slowly piecing together the life of my sister before she died, I am learning more and more about the family I was surrounded with daily and the things I’m learning are heartbreaking. Charlotte severely bullied Amelia, Charlotte took drugs, and Dad slowly drank himself to death for years.

Ivy: Science.

I stand staring at my phone, trying to think of anything else to ask her, something to continue the conversation, but my mind is still trying to wrap around the inner workings of my dead sister’s mind. I slide my phone back into my pocket and proceed to bring lunch back to Mr. Greene.

The old community center in Whitsborough has been changed into a shelter for abused children and Travis Greene runs it. Behind that building, Vincent Greene built the HQ for his business and that way they work closely. I sometimes see Ember Greene go between them when she’s visiting her husband and his brother.

This family is tight and they keep a lot of information just to their inner circle, I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to be in that inner circle. Dad tried to get in there but apparently those walls are impenetrable. I want to learn how to be that successful, to have that drive and make something of it. The more time I spend working for Vincent, the more I love it, and the cars are an added bonus.

Some of these cars are rare, like only a hundred ever produced or custom factory paint job, and I fucking foam at the mouth for all of them. I heard Vincent tell Travis that his son Saxon doesn’t have a love of cars, Ivy loves them but doesn’t want the business, and his only hope of passing on the family business was Dahlia, who likes her Princess Barbie car, so he feels there’s a chance.

I want to tell him to take a chance on me, that I love everything about this business, and I would love to be his protege. I’m just waiting to prove myself. I look up to the man because he’s a straight shooter and works fucking hard. He’s not a CEO that sits and lets everyone else work for him, he’s driving all over the country and even other countries for these classic cars.

I bring lunch into the boardroom and find Travis, Emmett, and Ember in deep conversation with Vincent.

“Sorry guys.” I mumble and drop the bag on the table.

“Neil Jones.” Ember smiles at me, Ivy could be her fucking clone.

“Hello Mrs. Greene.” I nod.

“Oh shit, no, don’t do that. Call me Ember.”

“Okay.” I nod, not happening.

“Thanks for checking in on Ivy and Saxon this weekend.” Vincent adds.

“No problem,” I nod.

“Saxon is taking a liking to you, even if he does think you want to bone my daughter.” Ember’s eyes are twinkling with humour but I’m choking at her words.

“I… no… it’s not… shit.”

They all begin to laugh at my stuttering and coughing and Emmett leans back in his chair.

“Ivy is complicated,” he scratches the hair on his chin. “She looks like she’s hard to reach because her outside is built really strong, but it’s a facade, she’s soft as a marshmallow and just needs someone to love her right.”

“Like someone we know.” Travis coughs into his hand.

“Yeah,” Ember smacks the back of Travis’ head, “my daughter is like me.” She looks up at me, “she’s loyal, in everything, even if it means she takes the fall. She’ll do it happily.”

Her eyes bore into mine and I begin to feel the tentacles of doubt settle in. Is she referring to Charlotte’s death? How did Ivy take the fall if it was her fault?

I nod because I have nothing to say that would work in my favour and besides, I’m not looking to disrespect anyone.

“Thanks for grabbing lunch, Neil.” Vincent smiles.

“I checked in on your dad today,” Ember looks at me, “he’s asking for you.”

“Thank you.” I nod and start for the door.

“Parents aren’t perfect,” her voice hits my back, “we know that better than anyone, but if they are willing to make their lives better and turn themselves around. That’s something to admire.”

I don’t reply any further and step out of the boardroom, releasing the breath I was holding. I don’t want to talk about my dad right now and seeing him would only piss me off more. He found solace in alcohol while the rest of his family struggled without him and he was okay with that.

My phone pings and I pull it out of my pocket.

Mom: How’s my boy?

I want to tell her I know that her teenage daughter was dipping into her prescription, I want to scream at her for not paying more attention, and I want to bash my own head into a wall for all the same reasons.

Me: Everything is good, Ma.

I put my phone away and head to my small office, the rest of my day will be scouring resale websites for lemons worth a small fortune.

DEAN: Serrano hasn’t been in touch for two weeks.

No, no, no.

I haven’t heard from him in three weeks and things were starting to look up. I thought-or I at least hoped-he had moved on, but I was so fucking wrong.

Dean: Looks like maybe the Black Slaughter got to him.

What the fuck is a Black Slaughter? I Googled it and found nothing. I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. I haven’t engaged him so far but I think it’s time that I do.

Me: I have nothing to do with any of this. I just want you to leave me alone.

He sends another video and I press play before I can even think about it. This is one of me spread wide, bent over his desk, and he’s finger fucking me. My pussy was wet with arousal betraying my internal torture at his actions. I can hear my muffled voice and this was one of the times I was gagged with my own panties.

Dean: Looks like you were enjoying our visit that day.

Me: What do you want from me?

He doesn’t answer me and the anxiety I’m feeling has my heart rattling my ribs apart. If he continues to feel threatened, he will release those videos, and I will have to explain everything to my family. I don’t think I could come back from that. They will never see me the same again.

If I change my number, he will contact me another way, and it worries me he’ll take the path of my parents. My anxiety ramps up at that notion and a strong wave of nausea hits me. I barely make it to the toilet before I’m throwing up my dinner. This is getting worse and I can’t see how the fuck I can do anything to stop it.

I can’t go see him and talking to my Uncle Trent about it will only cause more suspicion. I plant my ass on the floor in front of the toilet and let the tears I’ve been holding in saturate my cheeks. It’s fucking hopeless.

I hear the ping of my phone and begin to sob, I can’t deal with anymore from him. I curl up on the floor beside the toilet and cry myself to sleep.

“Ivy.” Saxon’s voice echoes around me. “Who the fuck sleeps in the bathroom?”

“Huh?” I open my eyes and see the porcelain of the toilet. “Fuck.”

“Are you sick? Like more than just your mental problems?” Asshole.

“I was feeling a bit nauseous earlier.” I admit to him.

“Your phone was ringing, how did you not hear it?”

Then it all rushes back, the reality I tried to bury with blissful sleep, and I groan back into the washroom mat.

“Can you get off the floor of the room you shit in?” Saxon pleads as he pulls on my arm. “You’re making me nauseous.”

I let him pull me up and I stumble into my bedroom, planting face first onto my bed.

“Get some sleep, you have school tomorrow, and brush your fucking teeth.” I hear the shudder in his voice as he leaves my room.

“Yes, Dad.” I mumble.

I grab my phone off the bed and stare at the screen, there are three missed calls from Neil and I quickly sit up. He never calls me. The last missed call was ten minutes ago and it’s after midnight. All of a sudden I’m worried and quickly call him back.

“Hey,” he croaks into the phone and I gasp at the sound of his sadness.

“What happened?” I get up and prepare myself to go to wherever the hell he is.

“I need to know if it was Charlotte that gave you that pill.”

When it rains it really fucking pours.

“I…”

“Ivy, I know I’ve been cruel and I know I don’t really deserve any truth from you, but you were the person that was involved in my sister’s death. I hated you. I still hate that it was you there with her that night, but I need to know if she was on drugs.” He’s pleading with me and I don’t know what to say because my loyalty will always be with Charlotte.

“Neil, I don’t know if she was on drugs that night. As for where I got the pills? Someone at school.” It’s a blatant lie but I’m hoping he buys it.

He needs to let his sister rest in peace and not dredge up her past. What difference would it make at this point? And to be fair, I really don’t know what Charlotte was taking in the days before she died because I was consumed with my Grandma’s illness and then her death.

He’s quiet and I lay there in silence with him. I can’t bring his sister back no matter how hard I wish for it because I’ve fucking tried. I offered whatever god is up there to take me instead, I didn’t deserve to live, and I wanted to leave this Earth anyways. But I never get what I pray for.

“Sorry I bothered you.” He finally says and my heart breaks.

“You’re not a bother.”

“Goodnight.” He whispers and hangs up the phone.

What has made him turn his sights onto his sister like this and dig through her life? What has he found out that’s making him see something he didn’t see before? I don’t want him to dig because if he finds out the one secret I have been keeping safe for over two years, then he will hate me more, along with everyone else, and everything I endured at the hands of Dean will all be for nothing.

It can’t ever be all for nothing, I couldn’t live with that thought, and the demons I keep locked away, will surely find their way out. I need to find out what he’s searching for and then I need to keep him away from it, because I don’t want him to ever drown in regret.

Amelia may be my key in all of this but I need to make it clear to her that I’m into her brother and probably always have been. I have a feeling she’s been telling Neil just how crazy Charlotte was becoming and I can’t let that come out.

None of it was her fault.

Precious Blood Academy is bustling with that Friday excitement, the students in the halls are chirping, and everyone is talking about parties they're hitting up. I have one person I need to find as I zone out all others in my peripheral vision.

"Ivy?" Her voice has me stopping dead in my tracks and my arms breaking out into goosebumps. "I haven't been able to catch up with you, you were apparently sick?"

I turn and stare into Molly's eyes, it takes everything in me not to claw them out. I know she's not her father and I know she has nothing to do with what he did to me, but her face is fucking pissing me off, nonetheless.

"I can't talk right now, Molly." I breathe in deeply, trying to calm my quaking insides, "how's your dad?"

"Oh, he's okay, I think Mom is coming back home." She looks at me with a slightly confused look.

"Tell him I say hi." I nod and then storm off. I'm not sure what made me say that and I'm not really thinking about the repercussions. Regardless of the fear I should be feeling, right now it's all rage.

I finally spot Amelia's dark curly hair standing at her locker, in the company of Veronica, Tanya, and Amber, when the fuck did she start chilling with them?

I shove myself between them and stand in Amelia's face, "we need to talk."

Her eyes widen and I hear Veronica clear her throat, I turn my head and look her in the eye, "not right now, bitch."

She looks stunned and then turns on her heel to stomp off down the hall. I look over to Tanya and Amber, shooing them away with my hands and they quickly chase after their ring leader.

"Fuck, that was hot." Amelia whispers.

"Keep those panties dry, brat." I grin at her, "I'm here to ask about your brother."

"Of course you are," she grins and leans back against her locker, "what do you need to know?"

"What has he been asking about Charlotte?"

She stands straight at that and looks up and down the hallway.

"Knock it off, no one here knew Charlotte." I hiss. "Tell me what he's asking."

"It's not so much what he's asking as it's what I'm telling him."

"What do you mean?" I step closer to her.

"Charlotte was a bitch to me, Ivy." She whispers, tears coating her eyes, "she was constantly at me about being a lesbian when we both know she was one herself, even if she didn't want to admit it."

Oh, she admitted it.

"She was taking something those last few months, apparently Dad found out." She relaxes against her locker again. "He confronted her about it the night that... you know."

Of course I fucking know, I was there.

"Then she stormed out of the house, your Grandma died, and shit just went chaotic."

"That's one way of putting it." I murmur. "He's asking me about her drug use."

"Tell him what you know because he deserves the truth, he's holding on to this fairy tale version of his sister and it wasn't reality." She sneers.

"Does he really need to know?" I raise a brow, "what difference would it make? It looks like you need to forgive your sister for her demons because she's no longer here to ask for it. She wasn't herself Amelia and eventually she would've been better, I just took that chance away from her. Forgive her and stop trying to tarnish her further in death."

She drops her eyes and blows out a breath, "it was hell with her, Ivy." Her voice shakes, "it's all I can remember and right now, forgiveness feels impossible."

"Find a way to make it possible because you will never get closure from her now and stop fucking up your brother by ripping away the good memories he has of her, you're becoming the monster now."

It's harsh, I know but she needs to hear it, defaming her sister in death is doing nothing but poisoning her insides with hatred, and there will be no apologies from the dead for their actions when they were alive.

She huffs out her breath and tears begin to roll down her cheeks, "fuck."

"Let her faults rest with her, none of us know the full story, and you're doing more damage than good, okay?" I pull her in for a hug and pat her back.

She's young and still carrying feelings that feel like the end of the world, I don't want her getting older with regret in her heart.

"Thanks, Ivy." She whispers and pulls away, "I'll try."

That's all I can ask for.

It's been nearly three years since I've driven to this house and it strikes me how close it is to Molly's house. Adam Van Dyke the rapist lives a street over from Rodney and Shay Jones. Being here is creeping me out way more now.

Amelia let me know that Neil called in sick today and was still in bed when she left the house this morning. I know Shay isn't home because she owns the only gym in Whitsborough. I'm sitting in the Jones' driveway, trying to muster the nerve to get out of this vehicle, and knock on his front door. I know he's home, his car is here.

I take a deep breath and hop out quickly before I can change my mind, jogging up to his porch. I ring the doorbell and wait. It takes the guy five minutes to get to the door and when he opens it, he looks like utter shit.

"You really are sick." My eyes rove all over his face.

He cracks a ghost of a smile and leans into the door, "you worried about me, Ivy Greene?"

"Yes." I go with honesty, "and hungry so I ordered a meat lover's pizza and a Hawaiian because anyone capable of eating that much meat on a pizza is a psychopath."

His thick arm reaches up and grips the top of his head as he laughs, his shirt riding up, revealing his abs.

"Come in then." He opens the door wider, "I'm glad you're here."

"I skipped classes today for you." I slip off my shoes, "you better be glad."

He chuckles again and then stops abruptly to haul me into his arms. He tightens his arms around my shoulders and his nose hits my hair, inhaling deep. I stand completely still for a second, waiting to see if my anxiety will rush me at his touch, and then relax when it doesn't, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I'm not sick." He whispers.

"I know."

"How do you know?" He asks, his chin moving against the crown of my head.

"Because I looked the same way when I was grieving your sister."

He tenses for a second and then I feel him nod, "only you didn't have someone to order you pizza and check up on you."

"No." I agree.

I didn't, I was stuck in a boarding school, being ridiculed everyday, and enduring abuse a few times a week. I certainly didn't get pizza.

He presses his lips to my forehead and any lingering doubts about my anxiety disappear when I feel my chest warming up to him. His touch doesn't freak me out and his scent makes me feel safe and protected.

"I brought a list of movies, I assume you have Netflix?"

Once again his head tips back, his laugh loud in the empty house, and he leads me into his family room. "Yeah, we have Netflix."

We've watched Mean Girls, Hocus Pocus, and Dirty Dancing. We're both nearly half asleep from a pizza coma when the front door opens.

"Neil?" Amelia's voice calls out.

"In here." He replies.

Amelia pops her head in and sees me nestled into Neil's side, his arm around my shoulders.

"Hey." She looks at me, "I didn't know you would be coming by."

"Why would you?" I raise a brow, "I came to see your brother."

I hate being rude with her but honestly I'm not fucking sure what she's trying to prove. She's becoming annoying and I can honestly say it's because of the shit she's running Charlotte's name through. Also the fact that she seems to think I need to tell her when I'm visiting her brother.

"Right." She nods. "Well, you two have fun." Then she disappears back around the corner.

"I think those long claws you have can be retracted now." He snorts.

"Sorry," I smile at him.

"Let's go to my room, Shay should be home soon, too." He starts to stand and then freezes, "unless you want to stay here, it's up to you."

"It's fine." I wave him ahead of me.

He leads me up the stairs and past what I remember to be Charlotte's bedroom, my chest growing tight. I miss her so much. I continue following Neil to his bedroom and as soon as I step inside, I inhale his scent. It's soothing and all male.

"Your room is clean." I look around.

"Yeah, yours isn't." He snorts.

"You were in there one time." I roll my eyes.

"And it was a fucking sty."

I laugh and he joins in, sitting on the chair by the bed. I take a seat on the bed and feel the air in the room change, we need to fucking talk.

"About that phone call last night." I begin.

"Yeah, I'm sorry..."

"Why?" I cut him off, "why all the questions?"

"Amelia told me our father caught Charlotte with drugs," he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, "and I couldn't believe it. That's not how I remember her."

"Okay." I nod for him to continue.

"Amelia knew it was something about pills but she was too young to retain all of the information." My heart accelerates with the word pills. "So, I figured you being her best friend, if she was doing it, then you must've done it with her."

"That's stupid." I sound calm but I am far from it.

"Then when I asked you and you said Oxy, I knew there was something there." He states, looking me in the eye.

Why the fuck did I answer him honestly?

"You see," he sits back again, his eyes intent on my face. "Our mother was in a pretty bad accident at work and she injured her back, she went through a few surgeries but some of the damage couldn't be repaired."

I nod.

"She was prescribed Oxycodone for the days the pain became unbearable."

I drop my chin to my chest and groan, I don't want to lie to him.

"Yes, Charlotte brought me that pill." I lift my head and look at him. "If you're asking me if she had a problem my truthful answer is that I have no idea. She was only here every other weekend."

"Okay." It's his turn to nod me on.

"I had a problem at that age, though, I was drinking and smoking a lot of marijuana. Charlotte would join me in drinking but not the weed, until a few months before she died, she brought me that pill. She said she wanted to try it with me. We did it and I hated it. After that, it was never brought up again."

"Did her behaviour start to change? Was she angrier?" His questions begin to stir feelings in me that I've tried to suppress.

"We fought more." I tell him. "She wanted... certain things."

"What things?"

I feel the first tear drop and hit my kilt, the wet patch spreading. "Charlotte claimed to be in love with me."

"Seriously?"

"Yes," I shake my head, "I didn't feel the same. We were fooling around and for me, it was just fun but for  her, it was real."

"Charlotte was a lesbian?"

"Am I a lesbian, too?" I raise my brow and smile when he looks confused. "I don't know what she was, Neil. We didn't discuss that."

"Okay." He looks more confused than when we started and I feel sorry for him.

"I think I should go now." I stand from the bed.

"Okay." He says again and leads me out of his room.

As I walk by Charlotte's door, I run my hand along the wood, and tell her I miss her. No matter how things ended, she will always be my best friend.

We get to the front door and I pull on my boots, then my jacket.

"Thanks for having me." I tell him and reach for the door handle.

"Wait," his hand lands on my arm and he pulls me into his arms. His finger lifts my chin and he's staring down into my eyes, "can I kiss you?"

I nod and almost swoon, it'll never get old, him asking for permission.

His lips gently connect with mine and he tightens his hold on me, our bodies pressing closer. When my chest begins to squeeze, I pull back, and smile up at him. It's not that I don't want to kiss him, I do, I just can't let it go further, and the longer his mouth is on mine, the surer I am that it will.

"Thanks for checking on me." He kisses my cheek and I nod as I step outside.

When the door shuts behind me, I find it easier to fill my lungs with air and calm myself from the panic attack I could feel coming on. I head to my car and pull out of his driveway. I feel sad for Neil but I'm hoping he can start to move on from obsessing over Charlotte and let her rest in peace.

I pull up to a stop sign and watch as a police cruiser crosses the intersection in front of me. My blood begins to pound throughout my body, the sound ringing in my ears, and my mouth dries when I see it's Adam, his eyes laser onto my face.

He raises his pointer finger as he passes and I feel like it's a bullet straight to my heart, then nausea is coursing its way up my throat. I only move when his vehicle is completely out of sight and I can't even remember how I got home, ending up back in my bed.

I'm back at square one.

I let myself have the weekend to wallow, even avoiding Carmelo and his begging to come see me. He has a fight coming up next weekend and he wants me there. After the last one, I'm not even wanting to think of a fight night, and I know what happened isn't his fault, but it's hard to separate the two right now.

It's Monday and I am back at school, I'm hit with a sudden hunger. I head to the cafe to grab something to eat because I never eat breakfast. As soon as I step in, the collective scent of different foods sends me into a bad case of nausea and bile burns its way up my throat.

I race back out and head all the way back down the hall, getting as far away as I can. I take a few cleansing breaths and try to ease the rolling of my stomach. I’m pretty sure I’m coming down with something and I don’t think I will make it through this day, on top of everything I can feel the beginnings of a fucking migraine, too.

I head to my Aunt Adri’s office and ask the secretary to call Mother, telling her I don’t feel well.

“You do look a bit green, honey.” The secretary states as she calls my mother.

After assuring Mom that I can drive home, I head outside and run into Amelia on her way in.

“Leaving?” She asks.

“I don’t feel so great, I think I’m coming down with the flu.”

I continue to walk without listening to what she says, just wanting to get home, and curl up in my bed. As soon as I’m in the car, my phone rings.

“Hello?”

“You’re sick?”

“Neil?” I ask, sounding so stupid because obviously it’s Neil.

“Yeah, baby.” He sounds so good and I miss him so much. “Do you need anything?”

“Can you come be with me today?” I know I sound like a baby but I want someone to take care of me.

“Yeah, I’ll be by in a bit. You want some soup?”

The thought of food makes me want to gag, “no.”

“I’ll see you in a bit.” And then he hangs up.

It must be all the fucking stress I’m under lately, making me sick and fucking tired.

The doorbell rings and it takes all my energy to get off the couch and walk to the door. I open it and see Neil’s concerned face, his eyes giving me a once over. I grab his jacket and pull him in, wrapping my arms around his waist. I sink my nose onto his chest and breathe in his cologne, something musky and spicy.

He kicks the door closed and lifts me up into his arms, then kicks off his boots.

“Let’s go rest, okay?”

I wrap my arms around his neck and nod, I just want him with me. He walks us up to my room, opens the door, and sets me down carefully on my bed. He drops his jacket on the chair at my desk and crawls beside me, pulling me into his chest.

“What time do I have to sneak out of here?” He asks into my hair.

“Never.” I murmur, already falling asleep.

“You asked for it.” That’s what I think he says anyway.

There is intense heat along my back, like someone is holding a heater right to my skin, and I can feel it seeping through my muscles. I try to move away from it but something large and heavy is holding me in place. I open my eyes just as the panic begins to cause my heart to drum rapidly.

“Relax.” Neil murmurs into the back of my neck, “it’s just me.”

I relax and sink back into him, overheating be damned.

“What time is it?” I ask him.

I feel him shift around and when he searches for his phone, his knuckles brush along my thigh, exposed by my flipped up kilt.

“Just after noon.”

His hand lands back on my waist and his fingers lightly massage me over my shirt.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.” I answer him and press my ass into his erection.

“Ivy.” His fingers clench and he stalls my movements.

“Don’t you want me?”

“That’s fucking dumb of you,” he shoves his steel cock into my ass, “what the fuck do you think?”

My core clenches and I can feel myself burning up for a completely different reason. I don’t want to ignore my body when it tells me I’m ready to move on, I want what I want.

I bring his hand up from my waist and cup it around my tit as I continue to grind my ass into his hardness.

“Fuck,” he groans as he squeezes me roughly.

Then he pushes me onto my back and hovers over me, ensuring he’s not touching me.

He leans down and kisses me softly, but the touch of his lips drives me into a frenzy. I missed this feeling, the feeling of wanting to be released and waiting to fucking soar.

He drops his body weight and he’s instantly everywhere I want him, all his rough edges against my soft curves. I arch up into him and practically purr when he thrusts his cock at my core.

Our tongues are rough as we seek each other’s mouths and our teeth clash just as we try to get closer.

He pulls back and I grab the side of his face, trying to drag him down to me.

“Wait.” He chuckles breathlessly, “I want something else.”

He slowly moves down my body, opening up my dress shirt, and lavishing my breasts over my bra. Then he pulls down the bra and my nipple is between his teeth, the peak being lashed with his tongue. Liquid lava pools in my panties and I am nearing the edge without any attention on my pussy, that’s how long it’s been.

His tongue dips into my belly button and I arch my back off the bed, trying to move him exactly where I need him. Fuck the belly button. He laughs again and then he’s flipping up my skirt, nipping me through my boy cut shorts. His finger runs up my seam and lands on my clit, rubbing me through the material.

“You’re soaked right through.” He leans in and inhales me. “You smell amazing.”

He continues to rub my clit, sucking and licking my inner thighs, and whispering profanities as I grow wetter. Finally, he slides his finger under my panties and I nearly come off the bed when our skin touches. He slowly slides one finger inside of me and I watch him as he brings it back out, sucking my juices off with a groan.

“Neil.” I sound aggressive and that’s because I am about to sit on his face, smothering him until I come.

“Okay, baby.” He pulls down my shorts, kneeling to take them off fully and tosses them behind him.

Then he winks at me, licks his lips, and dives back down. He starts by sucking my pussy lips into his mouth and nibbling his way from the bottom to the top. His tongue strokes my clit a few times before he’s sliding it inside of me, propping my ass up with his hands, and tongue fucking me in rapid motions.

He moves up and latches onto my clit, his fingers now replacing his tongue. He sucks my clit into his mouth and runs his tongue over it. I can feel my juices running down to my asshole, I am that turned on and ready to fucking fall apart.

“Give it to me, Ivy.” He growls into my pussy. “Come all over me.”

I suck in a breath as my body erupts in sensations, all moving outwards from my core, and my pussy clamps down hard. I black out from the force of my orgasm, my eyes bursting with colours behind my eyelids, and his name stuck in my throat on a silent scream.

My orgasm stretches and he continues to suck on my clit, my body and pussy convulsing in tandem.

“You taste so good.” He groans as he sucks up every last fucking drop. Not forgetting the juices pooling at my asshole, he licks and sucks that dry, too.

I finally come back to myself, panting heavily, and moaning random noises. Exhaustion settles in and I yawn, losing my breath in the process.

Neil comes up beside me and tucks me back under his chin, “sleep.”

“But you,” I try to pull away.

“Next time.” He kisses the top of my head and I drift off immediately, cocooned in his scent.

Leaving her is hard but I don’t want to wake her, and she’s finally sleeping so soundly. I lick my lips, her taste still coating them, and curse softly when my cock begins to swell again.

I need to run one more errand today and this one is not going to be fucking easy. I’m going to see my father and talk to him about Charlotte. I’m ready to let her rest but I need to know what happened before I do that.

Nothing matters to me about how she spent her last few months, she’ll always be my sister, and I love her without question.

Ivy’s mother should be getting home in the next little bit and I would rather not be here when she does. I’m not ready to put a label on us and I don’t think Ivy is either. It took a lot of convincing for my father’s councillor to agree to let me see him and I had to explain it was a bit of an emergency.

The drive there is short, his facility is in Toronto, and I walk inside. There are two nurses at the desk and they both perk up when they see me. This would’ve  been my time to flirt, wink a little, and grab both their numbers, hoping for a threesome. Now, I just want this done so I can go home and talk to Ivy.

I’m not stupid, I know what the fuck is happening here, and I’m nearly ready to tell her how I feel.

“I’m here to see Rodney Jones.” I tell them.

“Are you his son?” The blonde flutters her obviously fake eyelashes.

“Yes, ma’am.” She giggles and looks at the other nurse.

“Just call me Shantel.”

“It’s all good, can I please see my father?”

She doesn’t take my dismissal too well and her co-worker makes it worse by laughing.

“Straight down the hall, room twenty-three.” She doesn’t look back up at me.

“Thank you.” I politely nod and head to where she stated.

I’m nervous because talking to my father while he was drunk is what I’m used to, he’s sober now and I’m not sure what a sober Rodney is like. I knock on the door and I hear his voice call out to come in. He sounds clear, no slur, and when I open the door, his eyes widen in shock.

"Neil?" He stands from his chair and crosses the room to hug me. "Son, I can't believe you're here."

"Me either." I pull out of his embrace. "You look good."

He does look good, his eyes are focused, his skin looks healthier, and his voice is strong.

"I feel good." He looks at his desk of papers, "I have an assignment this week to write out all the wrongs I did while drinking and I think I'm going to need more paper."

"I feel sorry for all those trees." I mutter and he laughs.

"You're on a lot of these papers... and Charlotte, too." His eyes gather moisture, "I can't even tell her how sorry I am for all the things I messed up with her."

"Like what?"

"Charlotte was complicated, no ambition-not like you-and she was angry all the time." He sits at the desk and pulls out a paper. "She asked to come live with me and Shay because she said you and your mother were never around. I told her no."

A swift pang hits me in the chest, I wasn't around, I was hustling on the streets to make ends meet, and Mom was working two jobs. Child support was meager since Dad didn't have a great job at the time.

"Mom wouldn't have gone with that anyways," I tell him, it's the truth. There would've been a huge custody battle.

"There were some issues with her at school," he bows his head, "she was expelled that week before the... accident."

This is the first I’m hearing of her being expelled and if this was a few months ago, him saying the accident would've sent me into a rage. I always referred to Charlotte's death as a murder.

"Expelled? For what?"

"Selling drugs." He looks at me like I'm crazy. "Your mother said you knew."

"I didn't." I shake my head, why wouldn't Mom tell me? And why would she lie that I knew?

"She was caught with two bottles of Oxy in her locker and kids admitted that Charlotte was selling on school grounds. She was staying with me for two weeks because your mother had had enough."

This is all news to me. I was in my first year of University when Charlotte was starting her second year of high school and even though the workload was hefty, I was still at home. Well, except when I was working at the hotel and even then, I was only doing part time hours.

"This really makes no sense." I shake my head. "I actually came here to talk to you about Charlotte because Amelia has told me some terrible things."

"Yes," he nods. "She took her bullying to extremes with Amelia. I always thought it was jealousy but now I know it was due to her drug intake."

"Bullying Amelia about her sexuality wouldn't stem from drugs, Dad."

"No, but it would come from her anger towards her own situation. She wanted to live with us and go to school with Ivy, like Amelia. Sometimes, I felt like her interest in Ivy was borderline obsessive."

Borderline obsessive. Why though?

He sees the confused look on my face and his softens, "even through all of that, Charlotte was a good girl. She loved hard and she would've been better if the drugs weren't there. I don't think she was hateful."

No, I know she wasn’t hateful and I now know that Charlotte was having issues at home, I need to talk to Mom. I feel like I’m on a trail of breadcrumbs and chasing them down is tiring. I don’t know why Mom would hide this from me and it really doesn’t make sense.

“Then there’s you.” He pulls out another paper, “I pushed you too hard, I made you feel like you had to be the man of the house for your mother and sister when I went to prison, and I never told you enough how much I appreciated everything you did in my absence.”

Well, this is unexpected and right now I’m not in the mood to get emotional with him, as much as I’ve always wanted to hear these things.

“Thanks, Dad.” I pat his shoulder awkwardly. “I’m proud of you for all of this and when you’re out, I really want to hear all of it.”

“Really?” His eyes brighten.

“Yes.” I nod.

I need to get back to the house and call Mom before her next shift at the diner. I need to know everything about Charlotte and she’s going to tell me exactly why I was kept in the dark. The one thing that keeps nagging at me is the ‘obsessed with Ivy’ bit.

“Why would you say she was obsessed with Ivy?” I ask Dad.

“Because she always wanted to be with her.”

“They were best friends. Girls are like that.”

“This was more of a need to know where Ivy was, even when she wasn’t in Whitsborough, calling me to ask Vin where his daughter was, things like that. I also found a few letters in her room that looked like love letters to her. I chalked it up to being a joke, but I’m not so sure.” He scrubs his hand along his scalp.

“Maybe I’ll talk to Ivy.” I murmur.

“Ivy is a good girl,” my father states. “I never blamed her for Charlotte because I was never convinced of her story.”

“She admitted that Charlotte’s death was her fault.” I argue.

“I also knew at the time that Charlotte was troubled and under the influence,” he stares at me. “What do you think?”

My breath is lodged somewhere in my lungs and I’m finding it hard to breathe. What do I think? I think Ivy is the type to cover for her best friend, even at the cost of being sent away.

“I think I need to talk to Mom.”

“Okay, son. Take it easy on her, being a single mother is never easy.”

I nod and head to the door, my visit short, and nearly devastating.

“I’ll see you when you get out.” I tell him.

“I can’t wait.” He laughs as I leave his room.

I head back out to my car and pull out my phone. Mom better have the answers I need.

I’m back in the front of the toilet and staring at my bile in horror. This isn’t normal. When I woke up, the room spun and my stomach heaved almost instantly. I just made it to the toilet and even though I had nothing to throw up, I couldn’t stop.

It’s not stress that’s causing this and I don’t think it’s a bug. My stomach rolls again with my thoughts and I’m back in the toilet, bile burning my throat. I think back over my calendar and realize two fucking things.

I stupidly had unprotected sex with Neil when I was drunk, forgetting the morning after pill in my run in with Mr. O’Connor and then I was raped by Adam, not sure if he used a condom or not. That wasn’t my priority at the time.

I am at least two weeks late on my period and as I look at the swirling bile in the toilet, I know I’m in serious shit. How the fuck do I fix this? Can I go through with an abortion? What do I tell Neil? I fall back to my ass and sobs tear through my chest, shattering the silence in the washroom. I am in so much shit.

I need to go to the pharmacy and buy some tests, then take it from there. I just don’t know where to take it from there. What do I do? I get up slowly and sob again when the room spins. My family is going to kill me and I could never admit to what Adam did.

I quickly change out of my school uniform and make my way downstairs. No one is home yet and I can leave without any questions, I can’t fucking deal with questions right now.

The drive into town is filled with tears and my body feels like I’m walking through quicksand, I can barely breathe. The pharmacy is thankfully empty and I thank whoever the fuck it was that invented self-checkout. I leave the place with five tests and somehow get my ass back home in one piece.

After sitting on the toilet and peeing on two of the five tests, I pace my bedroom for the two minutes needed. Two minutes of pure torture and the worst kind of anxiety I have ever felt. I run over every scenario in my head and I know without a doubt, if I’m pregnant, I will have to terminate it. If there is even a slim chance of it being Adam’s I could never raise it. I wouldn’t be able to love it like it deserved.

My walk back to the washroom feels like the end of my life as I know it, if I am pregnant, there’s a chance that this child is Neil’s and terminating that feels impossible. I don’t know when it happened or how, but my heart belongs to him, and having his child would be amazing. Am I ready right now to have children? Of course not, but I could make it work and even though my family would be disappointed, they would help me, and I know Neil would be a great dad.

It’s heartbreaking to think I would be destroying that. Could I destroy that?

I walk to the counter and close my eyes, calming my breathing. Whatever the little plastic stick says is going to change me forever, I know it. I open them and what I see sends me straight to my knees.

She didn’t want to worry me. My mom thought by holding back all the problems she was having with Charlotte and keeping me in the dark, would mean one less child to argue with. That’s exactly what she said to me and it broke my heart.

I could’ve helped Charlotte, convinced her that being home with Mom was for the best, and I could’ve focused on being a better brother. I could’ve stopped her from going to Whitsborough by being with her more often and just maybe she’d still be alive. Mom said Charlotte was stealing her pills and she had an idea for a while but didn’t want to believe it.

My fist hits the steering wheel and a string of curses are screamed into the interior of my car. I could’ve been the one thing that changed the course of the Jones’ history. That also means I would’ve never reconnected with Ivy and the feelings I have right now wouldn’t exist. I can’t imagine them never existing.

My phone pings and I smile, knowing it’s her.

Ivy: Hey. Can we meet up?

Me: Miss me?

Ivy: It’s important.

The serious tone of her message has me sitting up straight and I wonder if she’s finally ready to admit everything about Charlotte.

Me: Where?

Ivy: The strip.

Something doesn’t feel right and I have a bad sense of foreboding as I start my car up. The drive back into Whitsborough will be a quick one.

February in Whitsborough is usually a mix of semi-spring weather and bitter winter cold. Today is warmer than normal and the wind holds a scent I would associate with Spring. It’s a tease though because we’ll be buried in snow many times over by the time Spring finally gets here.

I hear the rumble of an approaching car and watch as Neil pulls up beside me, his forehead wrinkled in concern. I get out of the car and he gets out of his, meeting me in the middle.

He tugs me in and wraps his arms around me, his scent a soothing balm to my anxious insides. He has his puffy jacket on and I hate that it’s in the way of me feeling his warmth. I pull back and tug down the zipper, burying my face into him.

My hands slide up under his shirt and he shivers from the icy feel of them

“Are you okay?” He whispers into my ear.

“I just need to feel you right now.” I murmur against his chest.

He pulls me in tighter and I can feel him hardening against my stomach, I know I shouldn’t be doing this but I want him.

I run my hand between us and my fingers skim over his abs, skating down to his fly.

“Ivy,” his voice turns raspy, “don’t start something you can’t finish.”

Fucking perfect because I need to finish and I want to do it with him so fucking deep inside of me.

My hand continues south and when his hard length is pressing into my palm, I grip it tight. He groans and I’m suddenly pushed against my car, his cock grinding into me.

He grabs my chin roughly and tips my head back, “it’s fucking chilly.” He’s growling as he undoes his pants, “I can’t be blamed for any shrinkage.”

I open my mouth to laugh but his lips catch it and his tongue thrusts inside. It ignites something hot in my core and I can’t think straight. I shove his hands away and finish dropping his fly, then switching our positions, shoving him against the car.

“Whoa,” he breathes but grins. I fucking want his cock to replace the piece of shit that was last in there.

I undo my jacket, ripping it off my arms, and throwing it to the ground. His golden eyes are fire on mine and I clench in anticipation. I need to lose myself in him, I need to fuck away my fears, and to have him one last time. I know, it’ll be the last time and I’m about to make it count.

Thank god for track pants, I sigh with relief as I drop them around my ankles and stand in front of Neil completely bare. He’s stroking himself in long languid motions, panting heavily, his breath coming out in wispy puffs.

Neil’s cock is so thick and so fucking long, it’s beautiful. I need it stretching me and I’m going to need it rough. I flip around and bend forward, my hands on the hood of his car. The heat from the motor running keeps my fingers from freezing. I look over my shoulder and raise my brow.

“Make it hurt, Jones.” Then I toss him a grin, “don’t fucking waste it.”

He’s behind me in seconds, one hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me down, and the other to line himself up. He slams himself in as far as he can go and I scream, the sound echoing back at us.

“So fucking tight.” He groans as he pulls out a bit and then roughly thrusts back in.

“More.” I pant, needing to feel the pain, and knowing that it’s coming from Neil. The sensation of being filled slowly erases Dean and Adam.

He finally gets himself fully seated inside of me and I arch my back, grinding into him.

“Baby,” he reaches around me and slips his fingers through my folds, finding that tightened nub. “Let’s soak my cock up.”

Fuck, the way he talks and how he works me perfectly, like I was made to be fucked by Neil. His thrusts are rough and my hands begin to slip across the metal hood, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. The noises coming from my mouth sound animalistic and my pussy is indeed soaking his fucking cock.

“I’m going to come.” I scream just as the wave crests and hauls me under, drowning me in pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He pants and then pulls himself out to cum on the ground at our feet. Right, he still thinks he can stop the risk of a pregnancy. Fuck, this is going to be difficult to say.

“Fuck.” I mutter as I pull up my pants. “I did come here to tell you something.”

“What is it?” He asks as he tucks himself away.

“Look, it’s my fault, I had some shit happen and the thing I was supposed to do… I forgot.”

“Ivy,” he shakes his head, “you’re not making any sense. Are you still sick?”

He bends to pick up my jacket and hands it to me.

“I was sick but it wasn’t a bug.” I shut my eyes and prepare for Armageddon. “I’m pregnant.”

Band-Aid.

He stands there, unmoving, and completely silent. It’s better than my reaction and the screaming I did on my knees.

“It’s mine?” His first words and a question I’d ask first, too.

“I don’t know.”

His face falls and he looks at his feet.

“I know we weren’t exclusive but you were fucking other people?”

“Yeah.” I nod. I can’t tell him what happened.

“Wow.” He breathes and then his face morphs into one of anger. “And to think I was falling for you. Why the fuck did I let myself do that? Especially knowing what type of person you are.”

His words hurt but I knew it was coming, the anger.

“Who is it?” He demands.

“That’s not what’s important.” I shake my head.

“Yes, it is!” He screams and the noise startles me. “I just fucked you like you were mine! Only mine!”

“I don’t belong to anyone.” I want to belong to him.

I’m shocked to see his eyes build with tears and he sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth to stop the tremors, he’s going to decimate me.

“You belong to me, Ivy Greene.” Finally, a tear escapes and rolls down his cheek. “You just need to face it.”

“I think the sooner you face reality, the better.” I need to make this quick. I can still feel him between my legs, his scent lingers on my clothes, and I feel like I will break if he continues.

“What are you going to do?” His chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to stop his flow of tears.

“I’m not keeping it.” I keep my cool exterior even though I’m dying on the inside.

“Of course, you’re killing it.” He laughs to the sky, “you’re a murderer after all.”

I knew that was coming as well. I thought I was prepared to hear those words and I thought I could let it go, knowing why he’s saying them. But my heart breaks anyway.

“I should go.” I turn and head back for my car. No point in staying here any longer, what we had is done, and he’ll go right back to hating me for the murderer I am.

“Ivy.” He calls out to me, I turn and look at him, his golden eyes simmering with anger. “You’re dead to me now.”

You’re dead to me now.  I understand why I would be and I would feel the same way, but it still fucking hurts. Those words keep echoing in my head and I hope it does for the rest of my life to remind me of what I’ve done.

Here in Whitsborough, you need an adult to sign a waiver for any medical procedure, and since I won’t be eighteen for another few months, I need a fucking adult. I guess that leaves me with two options. One: I tell my parents, or two: I go straight to the piece of shit that raped me.

Two looks better at this point.

“Hey Molly.” I’m waiting at her locker the following week.

“Oh, hi Ivy.” She looks around. “I’m not supposed to talk to you.” She whispers like the fucking loser she is.

“Yeah, that’s really unfortunate and I would like to keep it that way. Thing is… your daddy caused a big problem and now he has to fix it.”

“My dad?” Her mouth looks like a mechanical contraption you’d find in those old ass clocks.

“Yeah.” I widen my eyes and nod my head like I’m talking to a toddler. “I need you to tell him to get in contact with me.”

“Why?”

“He’s been a naughty boy.” I make her take down my number and to pass it along to her father. “Tell him time is of the importance.”

I turn my back on her weird face and stride to my locker. Carmelo and Cam are there, horsing around as usual, and it’s pissing me off. To be that carefree, not worrying about harassing men, and never being raped by cops, must be fucking nice.

“Move.” I snap at them and they break apart.

“Are you on your rag?” Carmelo asks.

Gotta love it.

“Maybe she’s hangry.” Cam chirps and I turn on them both.

“Can you both just fuck off? I don’t have the luxury to fuck around all the time.”

“Okay then.” Carmelo kisses my cheek. “Love you, see you later.” He heads towards the front entrance.

Cam though stays behind, staring at me, “what?” I ask him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I exhale, “no.”

“Tell me what you need.”

“To go back in time and change my whole life.” I moan and fall against my locker.

“Why would you do that?” He asks, “you’re the strongest person I know and it’s all because of the shit you’ve had to endure.”

This is why I love my cousins, they can be boneheads, but when I need them, I don’t have far to look. I nod and try to smile, but he sees through it. He hauls me in and smothers me in a tight hug, kissing the top of my head.

“Hang in there, Ivy. God does things for a reason, don’t try to change his course, and just roll with it. You’re only given as much as you can handle.”

Don’t change my course, just roll with it, and as much as I can handle. Sounds like something straight out of a self-help book and maybe just like he’s saying, it came just when I needed it.

“Thanks, Cam.” I mumble into his chest.

“Okay, gotta get back to fucking around.” He tosses me a grin. “Call me if you need more Cam proverbs.”

He disappears out of sight and I mull over his words, do I run the course?

I miss him.

It’s been a few days and Neil hasn’t strayed far from my mind. If I keep this child and it’s his, what happens then? Will he change his mind? Will he want me again? The only thing these questions are proving is that I’m in love with Neil Jones and I’ve fucked everything up.

My phone pings and I dive across the bed, anxiously hoping it’s him.

Dean: I made a compilation video, one I think shows my cinematic talent and one that will destroy your family. Your mother’s email is the same, correct?

Me: Don’t do that.

Dean: Take a peak and let me know what you think.

I click on the link provided and nearly pass out when I see he’s made a webpage. There are photos of me in all different stages of undress and video links for people’s ‘viewing pleasure.’ It feels like each of my organs are shutting down in quick succession and I may very well be dying.

None of the photos show my face but my family will know it’s me with one look. My hair, my skin tone, and my body shape, it’s not hard to decipher.

Dean: It’s not yet viewable, but that’s just a click away.

Me: What the fuck do you want?

Dean: What did we talk about regarding a young lady’s language?

Me: What do you want from me?

Dean: Not sure there’s anything you can do, really.

Me: I am holding up my end of the bargain and keeping my mouth shut!

He doesn’t answer me and I go back to the link. I click on each of the videos and finally come across one that I wish I didn’t. He has me tied up with his tie and he’s beating me with a large wooden ruler. This was the time he caught me with the edge and it broke my skin. My ass cheek still has the scar.

My phone pings again and I quickly pull open the messages, seeing a number I don’t recognize.

Unknown: What the fuck are you telling my daughter?

Adam Van Dyke.

I’m so fucking fed up with predators and the hold they have over me. Why am I letting this happen? I can take back my power. If I go to the police, I have the means and my family has the clout to destroy Adam’s career. Same goes for Dean, he would lose his prestigious position and his fucking reputation.

Me: You should’ve worn a condom you dumb fuck.

I wait for twenty minutes and then forty-five, no answer. Maybe now someone else can fret just as much as I have been since my ass got home. Fuck that, I’ve been fretting since I was shipped off to New York. I fall back on the bed with a sigh, it feels good to have someone else do it for a change.

That’s right Adam Van Dyke, you may have fathered your daughter a baby sister or brother. Now what?

“Ivy!” Dad calls out at the bottom of the stairs, “come eat!”

My stomach growls and I laugh, already this little thing is a fucking monster. If I’m not puking my guts up, I’m stuffing my face, and to me that sounds like a Neil/Ivy combo. I really hope it is.

I get to the kitchen and smell pasta, groaning as my mouth fills with saliva.

“I wish someone would react to me like Ivy does pasta.”

“Nana!” I exclaim and run to Nana Sharla for a hug. “You’re home.”

“Only for a day, I fly back out to Tuscany tomorrow.” She pats my back.

“Why can’t you stay longer?” Mom shoots me a look and Dad’s eyes widen behind her. It takes a lot of effort not to laugh at their reactions.

“I can’t leave the restaurant for that long.” She chuckles, “I just came to check on my grand babies and make sure they’re healthy.”

Nana Sharla is still the same as she was in all the photos I’ve seen of her when my dad was growing up. Short, bright red hair, and big hazel eyes. Her skin is still smooth even if there are deep laugh lines in some spots. She’s beautiful and even though she’s a handful, we all still love her craziness.

She owns and operates a small Italian restaurant in Tuscany and is living her dream life. Dad says he thinks she has a man too but it’s hard to determine that because Nana is weary of men. Again, something that happened with our grandfather.

“Saxon!” She exclaims when my brother comes into the room, “you’re going to be taller than your father! You’ve shot up a few inches since I saw you at Christmas.”

I give Saxon a once over and Nana is right, he really is starting to mature, and grow up. He’s been looking after me more lately, too.

“Hey Nana.” He sits at the table.

“Okay Nana!” Dahlia runs into the kitchen with a few Barbies. “These are my favourites now, let's braid their hair.”

“Okay Angel.” Nana says to her and everyone sits at the table.

I look around at all of us and I realize I really do have a great family, they would still love me despite my mistakes. I admitted to killing my best friend and they’re still here. Maybe one day, I can convince Neil that I am worth loving despite my mistakes, too.

Her street is now ingrained in my mind, I’ve driven it obsessively, and I bet if blindfolded, I would navigate it perfectly.

She’s pregnant.

There’s a life growing within her and it may be mine. A child with golden skin and dark hair, maybe those ocean eyes. It makes me ill to think about her killing it and me never knowing the truth.

Another mystery lost to death.

I want her to keep it and I want her to be able to tell me who else the father may be. I can’t decide for her, it’s her body, and I would have to support her regardless, but I want to give it a chance.

It’s been three days since she told me and I’ve been living my days on autopilot. Then when my thoughts become consuming, I drive along her street, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, and calming the turmoil inside of me. As much as I’m being a fucking stalker, I still haven’t seen her and I’m worried. Is she recovering from her procedure? What do her parents know?

Work has been the same, no one has mentioned Ivy, whether she’s sick or not, and I can’t just fucking ask because that will look suspicious. Emmett has been coming by more often to talk to Vin and Ember, I heard him saying something about training Carmelo in New York. He fucking needs it.

There’s been no talk of Ivy and I would know because I’ve become an obsessive stalker. She could be carrying my fucking child.

I turn on her street again and notice a cop car coming in the other direction. I’m suddenly on alert because cops are never on this street. What the fuck happened? I pull over about three houses down from the Greenes and watch as the cop slowly passes their house, slowing down to a crawl as he drives by. My skin breaks out in goosebumps with just how creepy he looks.

He drives by me and doesn’t give my car a second look. I get a good look at him though, he’s older, maybe late forties, with salt and pepper hair. He has a scar that runs through the beard on his left cheek and it stands out on his face. That was all I could get in the quick drive by, but something is telling me that he’s doing exactly what I am, only not for the same reasons.

What could the Greenes have done to piss the cops off? Emmett is the fucking chief. Maybe they need me to keep a watch on shit because they don’t know that’s happening, right? They’re obviously busy as fuck and there may be a pregnant girl in the house, I should be here.

I throw the seat back and settle in for a bit, might as well make sure things are okay before I go home to bed. You can never be too sure of what’s in your neighbourhood, even this upscale one. Isn’t it like a statistic for every neighbourhood there’s at least a few pedophiles? Whitsborough may be small and boring, but fuck, pedophiles probably like that.

It’s midnight when I get home and I’m staring at my fucking phone deciding if I should message her or not. She should know that it looked like a cop was scoping out her house today. Yeah, but then she’d know I was there doing the same thing, only I have a reason to! I lay back in bed with a groan, why did I say all those things to her? I was so angry and I still am but I shouldn’t have been so fucking hateful. She’s alone and dealing with something that will change her life forever and I basically spat on her.

I want to know who else she was fucking, it’s bothering me just as much as the pregnancy itself, and I know the way my fucking brain works, I won’t be able to let it go. Is she still fucking them? What made her want to fuck someone else anyway? I thought we were fucking amazing together. I could pop by her school tomorrow, I mean it’s mostly for her, and to see if everything looks okay. Maybe she was fucking a classmate and now they know she’s pregnant. What if they want to shove her down a flight of stairs? Trip her as she’s leaving.

I think she needs me to be close by and keep an eye on things.

My cough into the phone this morning was fucking pathetic, Vin knew it too but told me to stay home and rest. No can do, I need to make sure his daughter is okay. So, here I am, sitting in a high school parking lot watching as students take their time getting to class. At about five minutes after the bell rings, I see Ivy pull up.

She parks her car closer to the entrance and gets out. Her hair shines in different shades of brown and red, her skin is a bit paler than usual but she has this rosy glow to her cheeks. She’s so fucking beautiful. Her face is a mask of indifference but I see in her eyes the worry she’s holding inside. I want to get out and pull her into my arms, tell her I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen to her. But then she’ll probably slap me across the face and kick me in the balls.

With her backpack slung over her shoulder, she saunters to the front doors, her ass swinging in that fucking kilt, and I’m rock fucking hard. No other female has ever given me these primal responses and I know she’s probably the only one that ever will. As fucked up as our situation is, Ivy and I were made for each other. Does she feel that too?

When the coast is clear, I get out of my car and head around the side of the school. There’s a large track and baseball diamond to the left, then what looks to be a building for the athletics department. Off to the right is another building that looks like a church or temple and it has a huge glass dome on top. The sign on the front says Precious Blood Arts Department. I have never set foot in such a prestigious school. There are a few students walking towards both buildings but for the most part, it’s quiet. I find a bench and wait out the day and if she sees me, I’ll admit everything I’m doing.

I hope she doesn’t see me.

Lunch rolls around and I head back to my car, not really wanting to look like an older creep scoping out high school kids. I haven’t seen Ivy and I think me being here is a fucking waste, she’s obviously inside a huge building and I can’t be in there. I decide to wait outside her house until she gets home and make sure she looks okay.

Her street is dead, as per usual, and the gate to her house is shut tight. No one’s home and therefore nobody should be coming around, except me. But I have a fucking reason to!

I park in the same spot I was in the night before and relax into the seat, maybe I should’ve brought something to read. I turn on my podcasts and listen to a recent episode of true crime, trying to pass the time.

Around ten to three, I finally see Ivy’s car pull up, her gates open and she pulls into her driveway, fucking tinted windows didn’t show me shit. She’s the first one home and that means she’s home alone. I should stick around a bit longer until one of her parents gets home, just in case she needs something. I turn on another episode of the podcast and recline my seat for a bit.

It takes about two hours for another vehicle to turn on the street and my heart jumps when I see it’s a cop car again. What the fuck is going on? Are the Greenes under investigation?

The car once again slows down in front of Ivy’s house, this time stopping briefly to look at the closed gate, and then proceeds to drive towards me. This time, when he passes my car, his head turns and we lock eyes, his narrowing slightly and his nostrils flaring. He looks slightly deranged and there’s so much anger in his eyes.

I guess I’m staying here a bit longer.

Dean has been quiet since I told him to go ahead and publish the website, I’d love to see how the cops would react knowing I’m severely underage in all those photos and videos. I should’ve grown a backbone months ago.

Officer Adam Van Dyke is another issue, he’s been calling me and leaving me weird voice messages. He sounds drunk in each one and begging me to get rid of my child. As the messages go on, he get’s increasingly angry, and the final one is of him threatening to rape me again. Well Officer Van Dyke, that’s fucking stupid.

I keep all the messages because if he tries to attack me again, I will send everything to my Uncle Emmett. Beyond that, I am physically okay, save for the morning sickness, and I am still debating what to do with this pregnancy. It literally fluctuates by the hour and I know my window of choice is closing fast. The prospect of being a single mother is scary and disappointing, I’ve always wanted what my parents have.

Each day I spend about half an hour in front of the mirror, I’m trying to see if my stomach has grown and the only change I can see right now are my breasts. They have literally ballooned. My bras don’t fit and I’ve changed to sports bras. But that’s it, my stomach is still flat-probably due to throwing up most of what I eat-and my clothes still fit me. I don’t know how much longer I have, though.

Mom and Dad have been busy every day and rarely get home before six. Mom looks exhausted most of the time and she’s been spending almost every weekend in New York. I feel like maybe something big is happening with her business there. Whatever it is, it takes a lot of her energy.

Carmelo is starting to train now with Uncle Emmett three weekends out of a month and he’s excited to also learn about his birth father. Uncle Emmett knew him the best and the place where they’re training belonged to him at one time. The Compound as they call it is a huge underground structure that houses over twenty people and has a fight ring and massive training facilities. Now, Mom and Uncle Trent own it. I’ve only ever been there a few times.

Saxon has been wandering more and more into my room and we’ve settled into watching a few Netflix series together. I know he can sense something up with me but doesn’t pry me for any information, he doesn’t really feel the need to know it and that’s what I love about him. He says school is a pain in the ass and he wants to convince Mom and Dad to let him be homeschooled. The thing is, Saxon is extremely smart and it’s a bit scary.

Recently, his grades have been dropping and he’s looking more and more disinterested in school. When I pressed him about it, he insisted he just hates his school and the teachers are dumbasses. I thought maybe he was being bullied because Saxon is a bit different but he assures me he is not. To put it in his words, “I wish someone would.”

I think he’s bored and the material being taught to him is too simple. Maybe he needs to be bumped up a grade.

My phone pings on the bed and I reach for it amid a flurry of emotions, Eager, anxious, and worry race through me. I want it to be Neil, I dread it may be Dean, and I’m annoyed it could be Adam.

Annoyance it is.

Officer Asshole: We should meet up. I want to help you in whatever you choose to do.

This is a complete one-eighty and absolutely unbelievable.

Officer Asshole: I know I’ve been harassing you and I just want the chance to make it right. I’ve stopped drinking which has led to many of the mistakes I made, like what I did to you.

He’s blaming alcohol. What a fucking idiot.

Me: Fuck off, Adam.

I put my phone on silent and lay back on the bed beside Saxon, pigging out on chips and soda.

I won’t let any man make choices for me, I only want the one to love me through them.

It’s well into the night when I hear Saxon’s phone alerting us to our surveillance. It’s Friday, only Saxon and I are home, and we’re not expecting anyone.

“What is it?” Saxon asks as I open his phone.

The app is blinking on the camera that is showing movement and I expect to find a raccoon in our garbage, but instead I’m nearly swallowing on my heart when I see a hooded figure standing outside the gate. They’re not moving, just looking in, and by the body build I can see it’s not Neil. They don’t move, just continue to look through the gate, and wait for something to happen.

My phone lights up with a call and I curse the moment I put it on silent.

“Hello?”

“Ivy?” Mom sounds panicked. “Call Uncle Emmett.”

“Okay.” I whisper, keeping her on the line and using Saxon’s to call him. “Who is that?”

“I don’t know. Hurry up, Emmett.” She growls.

“Hello?” Uncle Emmett’s sleepy voice fills the speaker phone.

“There’s someone weird at our gate.” Saxon says into the phone, “get over here fast.” He hangs up and switches back to the camera feed.

Now the guy is looking right up at it, unmoving, and his face shrouded in darkness.

“Mom.” The fear in my voice is evident.

“Don’t worry, he can’t get in.” She tries to reassure us but fails to hide her panic.

Suddenly, the figure looks to the right and then runs off in the opposite direction. A few seconds later, Uncle Emmett’s car pulls up and he gets out with his gun drawn, running in the same direction.

“Do not open the gate.” Mom growls, “not even for your uncle. We are on our way home.”

“Okay.” I whisper and hang up.

“Who the fuck was that?” Saxon jumps up from the bed to look out my window, it faces the driveway.

“I don’t know.” But I may have an idea. Adam? Dean? Someone hired to keep a watch on us.

Whoever it is, they’re being blatant about it and know we have cameras. I’m suddenly aware that all my actions can have bad consequences for my family and not just myself.

Mom and Dad get home about five hours later and the house is in a bit of an uproar. Not only is my Uncle Emmett here but so are Uncle Travis and Aunt Adri. I can hear them in the kitchen with hushed conversation that’s starting to freak me out. So, I do what any normal person would do and try to eavesdrop.

The kitchen doors are shut, but there’s a small gap between them, and if you stand near that, you can hear just enough. I’ve done it many times and listened to how much my parents moaned about their crazy kids.

First, I hear Uncle Emmett saying he did see the figure running but that he lost him further up the street.

“It was definitely a man?” Dad asks.

“Yes,” Uncle Emmett answers, “average height and weight.”

So not Neil for sure.

“Could it be Head retaliation?” Uncle Travis asks and I hear Mom hum.

“I had a hit last weekend that uncovered one of their secret pockets in Manhattan. It could be.”

Hit? Head? Secret pocket? What the fuck is my family into? They sound like the fucking Sopranos sitting in my kitchen. This must be business lingo, there’s no other explanation.

“What about Charlotte’s older brother?” Aunt Adri asks and my heart almost explodes, “I saw him on camera around the school the other day.”

What?

“Nah,” Dad says, “he has a thing for Ivy and likes to watch out for her. I think he’s harmless.”

“Maybe we should keep an eye on him too, though.” Uncle Emmett replies, “just in case.”

“Okay.” Mom concedes. “Trent is digging up the Head I outed last weekend and he’ll let me know what he finds. I can’t head back to New York until this is all straightened out, I won’t leave my kids in danger.”

“If someone needs to go,” Uncle Travis answers her, “Vin and I will do it.”

I hear chairs scrape along the kitchen tile and rush for the stairs, I get to the top when I hear the doors open.

“All I keep thinking about is someone knew my children were here without us.” Mom moans as I duck back behind the wall.

“Ivy is almost eighteen and they did the right thing. Our children are smart.” I can hear Dad soothing her.

“They are smart.” Uncle Emmett tells her, “and there’s always someone close by.

“I can’t help but think that someone will start picking off my family again.” Mom says quietly.

Again?

“We’ll figure it out.” Dad says, “we won’t have history repeat itself. Our children will not be another Debra and Scott.”

That’s Mom’s aunt and uncle and they used to own this house before they passed away, or were they fucking murdered?

Saturday and Sunday, the house is bustling with activity and the nervous tension is so fucking potent. Mom has the surveillance guys come in to look over everything, Dad has been on the phone with Uncle Emmett, and there have been cops sitting in our driveway both days. Thankfully, it’s never Adam.

Sunday night, Mom and Dad call me and Saxon into the kitchen to tell us we won’t be going to school this week and to not leave the house for any reason.

“Why?” Saxon asks. “Who’s after us?”

“No one is after us.” Dad scoffs. “We’re just a target for break ins because of where we live.”

“To come to that conclusion,” Saxon begins, “you would’ve had to look at the break in statistics around this area. I haven’t heard of any.”

They look at him dumbfounded and I snort. “He has a point.”

“And the cops being on our property like the Men in Black is also fucking strange.” Saxon leans back in his seat.

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Mom says to him and I snort again.

“Ivy, don’t encourage it.” Dad chastises.

“So, how long are we on lockdown?” I ask.

“This week.” Dad answers, “then everything will be back to normal.”

Both Saxon and I nod as we get up from the table.

“Ivy,” Mom says, “can you chill for a minute?”

I look at her as my heart thumps wildly and sweat gathers under my sweater, “sure.”

They wait for Saxon to leave the kitchen and then she looks at me pointedly, “what’s been going on with the Jones kid?”

“Neil?”

“That’s the one.” Dad answers.

“Nothing.”

“He’s been seen around your school and we know he’s been by here.” Mom states.

I know they’re not mad, more curious, and this is probably something Uncle Emmett asked them to do so he could clear Neil off the suspect list.

“It wasn’t him.” I shrug. “I know his body type and besides, we no longer talk.”

“Everything is okay?” Dad asks. I know if he felt like Neil was doing something wrong, he would fire him in an instant.

“Just didn’t work out.” I shrug.

“Alright,” Mom’s eyes soften.

I get up from the table and head out of the kitchen. No matter what went down between Neil and I, he’s still a really good guy, and now I need to know why the fuck he was at my school. Does he want to discuss things or is he looking to berate me some more?

Ivy’s street has been filled with cops the whole weekend and I am this close to storming the fucking place and demanding to know what’s going on. Friday night I stayed in with Amelia and played Scrabble, one fucking night off. Then Saturday and Sunday were fucking crazy.

Is she okay? I’ve had my phone in my hand with text messages to her typed out but too fucking chicken to press send. Something was going down at the Greene residence and now it makes sense that the cop was watching it closely.

Today, I will find out what happened if it means asking Vincent himself. I don’t care if he figures out I’m fucking stalking his house, I need to know that Ivy is okay. I get inside the building and stop short when I see the scar faced cop standing in the hallway next to Vin’s office. His brows crash together when he sees me and I know he recognizes me from when he drove by me.

I continue walking and pass by him, both of us never breaking eye contact, and knock on Vincent’s door.

“Yeah.”

I go inside and shut the door behind me.

“Mr. Greene…”

“Vin, Neil. You can call me Vin.” He cuts me off and looks up from his laptop.

“Why do we have cops here?”

He closes his laptop and settles into his chair, “take a seat.’

The fuck? I start to fucking sweat because even though I didn’t do shit wrong, I hate the fucking cops.

“We had an incident at the house on Friday night.” He begins, “someone was creeping around and caught on camera.”

My mouth dries up and my stomach sinks, “who was home?”

“Ivy and Saxon at the time.” He replies.

“They’re okay?” My voice betrays me and cracks.

“Yes,” he smiles. “They’re okay. We just haven’t found the guy yet and unsure of what he wanted. We’re just playing it safe and all kids are home this week.”

“Oh,” I look back out to the hallway. “Is that cop like a family friend?”

“Adam?” Vin looks around me to the cop who is indiscreetly looking inside the office. “He’s been stationed here to make sure everyone is on the up and up. Not really a family friend, his daughter and Ivy used to be close.”

“Oh, okay.” Still doesn’t explain why he was outside of their house and I can’t shake the feeling that this guy is up to something. “So, no stake outs and no investigation into your family then, got it.”

“What?” His eyes widen.

“Nothing, I’m just playing.” I stand up. “What do you need me to do today?”

“Answer emails and take phone messages, I don’t want to talk to anyone unless it’s my wife or brothers.”

“No problem.”

I leave his office and once again play stare down with scar face douche. He has a look about him and I think he’s fucking suspicious, regardless of how I feel about cops, this one stinks.

Once in my little office, I shut the door and power up my computer. The hairs on the back of my neck stand and I look over my shoulder to see scar face walking by and looking at me.

I dare the fucker to come in here, I have so much energy from worrying and stressing out, and I would love to expend it all over his face. He doesn’t come in though and that’s a fucking shame. He does continue to cross in front of my window three more times in the hour, why does it feel like he’s watching me more than the others?

It’s already time for lunch when I finally get to the bottom of all the emails and I’m starving. I do my usual routine and walk around the office asking everyone what they’d like to eat for lunch. The cop is watching me as I circle back around and head to Vin’s office. This time I don’t look at him as I walk by but I can see the fucker is watching me closely.

“Lunch?” I ask Vin. “Looks like everyone wants sandwiches.”

“Sounds good to me, I’ll take a meatball.” He tosses me the company credit card.

I won’t say I convinced everyone to want the sandwich place because it’s conveniently near where Ivy lives and I need to fucking talk to her. I get to my car and finally find my balls to send her a text.

Me: Can we talk?

It takes a few minutes but she finally texts back.

Ivy: Can’t. On lockdown.

Fuck.

Me: Everything good?

Ivy: Same old.

Me: Okay.

She doesn’t text me back and I’m disappointed as I drive to the deli, making sure to pass her place on the way, and then come back, passing it once more. Everything looks good and the gates are shut. I breathe a sigh of relief and head back to the office.

She’s pissed and that’s understandable, I’m simply happy she’s okay. She said, ‘same old’, does that mean the same as the last time I saw her? Like still pregnant?

I bring the food inside and look around for the cop, I’m pleasantly surprised he’s not here, until I question Linda-Vin’s secretary-about it.

She gives me a look and says, “he left soon after you.”

Is that motherfucker following me?

He fucking messaged me!

I thought I was going to pass the fuck out when I saw his name. I have never felt such hope in my whole fucking life, I’ve never had much to hope for before. I decided to play it cool, not chasing him for answers, and not questioning him about where we stand. This is just the first step.

I’m practically prancing around the fucking house, my spirits soaring, and my heart full when my phone pings again. I nearly trip over my feet getting to it and rushing to open the message.

Officer Asshole: This your boyfriend?

He sends me a picture of Neil picking up food at the deli near my house and then another as he drives by my house.

Me: Nope.

Why the fuck is he following Neil?

Officer Asshole: Seems awfully interested in you. I’ve seen him outside of your house a few times.

I drop my phone to the couch as the blood drains from my face. If he saw him outside of my house, then he himself had to be outside there too, and I would bet he was the one there this past weekend. This is my proof right?

I pick my phone back up.

Me: Sounds like you have us both on surveillance.

Officer Asshole: Try anything and this gun will slip as he’s walking from his car to his house.

My heart drops and my palms become slick, he’s threatening to kill Neil and I know he’s crazy enough to do it.

Officer Asshole: That’s not a bad idea actually.

Out of fear or maybe pure desperation, I call Neil. I know he’s at work but I just need to tell him that Adam is dangerous and to stay out of his way. He doesn’t fucking pick up and I growl in frustration. I need to get a hold of him.

I call Dad’s office and when Linda picks up, I ask her to put me through to Neil.

“Neil Jones,” his voice makes me moan in relief as I fall to the couch.

“Ivy?” His voice drops to a whisper.

“Yes, sorry I…”

“Are you okay?” He cuts me off.

“Yeah, can you tell me if Dad has any officers there at the office?”

“He has one, he’s a fucking douche.” He’s talking about Adam for sure.

“Rugged looking guy with a scar on his face?”

“Yeah.” He sounds hesitant, “I’ve seen him before.” He finally says.

“Listen,” I tell him quickly, “don’t engage in conversation with him and don’t attract his attention, keep your head down and stay away from him.”

“I got to go but you will explain why… can I call you later?”

He always asks my permission and I feel tears run down my cheeks at his words.

“Yes.” I sniff.

“Are you crying?” He sounds amused and I huff.

“I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up the phone.

My insides are a fucking kaleidoscope of emotions and I can feel the nausea setting in. I grab the crackers I usually eat to try and stave it off as I slowly make my way back to my room. I don’t want anyone to catch me puking in this house, it’s a quick assumption to pregnancy.

I close my room door and nearly projectile vomit across the place when I find Saxon sitting on my bed.

“Do you mind?” I snap at him.

“Are you and Neil okay now?”

“What do you mean?” I try to play it off but he scoffs at me.

“I mean you stopped having him around but I just heard you talking to him.” What did he hear?

“Yeah, we’re fine.”

“I like him.” He stands up, “he cares about you, Ives. You need to stop pushing away all the people that do, you’re worth it.”

Then I watch dumbfounded as my brother walks out of my room and shuts the door behind him. He really is way too smart for his own good and I fucking love him so much for it.

The ringing of my phone pulls me out of my sleep and I look down to see Officer Asshole blinking on the screen.

“What?” I pick up, my voice raspy from sleep.

“I’m watching your boyfriend’s house.” He says, “I’ve been appointed to make sure he doesn’t seem suspicious.”

“Funny,” I sneer, “since you’re the suspicious one.”

“Right?” He chuckles, “he sure does have a pretty little sister, Amelia, right?”

Rage, raw and boiling hot rolls through my body. “Watch it, Adam.”

“And Shay has really aged well, even though she’s a little on the older side for my tastes.”

“You’re sick.” I snap.

“I’m telling you to get rid of it, Ivy.” He drops his voice, “or I will get rid of him and then those ladies will be left all alone.”

He hangs up in my ear and I quickly check the time. It’s six o’clock which is about the time he’d be arriving home and that confirms that Adam is telling the truth, he has been put on Neil watch.

I quickly dial Neil’s number.

“Hello?”

“Neil.” I say quickly.

“What?” I can hear the panic in his voice so I try to calm down.

“Can you tell Amelia and Shay to watch their backs?”

“What the fuck is happening Ivy?” He yells. “I need to know if it involves me and my family.”

“I just have some shit happening and I need to make sure everyone I care about is protected, you too.”

“What shit?” He questions.

“I’m going to deal with it,” I promise him. “It’ll all go away soon.”

“Ivy, that’s not enough.” He shouts. “It’s not enough this time, I need the whole truth.”

“I know.” I nod, because he really deserves at least that. “I’m going to tell you everything and about Charlotte, too.”

He’s quiet for a while and I have to check my screen to see if he’s still there.

“When?” He finally asks.

“When I get off lockdown, the end of this week.” I promise him. “And then I will tell you everything.”

“Ivy…” he begins but struggles, “did you… you know… the… did you do it?”

“Not yet.”

“Not yet? But you’re going to?” His voice becomes hard.

“I’m leaning towards no.”

“Oh.”

“I should go. Please look after your family.” I implore.

“I will and please call me if you need me.”

I hang up the phone as I choke on my sobs. Everything feels like it’s about to fall apart, like the very ground I’m walking on is crumbling steadily behind me, and I am only inches ahead of the destruction.

I don’t think I can stay ahead of it for too much longer.

He’s outside my house, I saw his undercover vehicle sticking out like a sore thumb, and when Ivy called to warn me, it solidified my suspicions. What’s pissing me off is that she’s worried about my family and that can only mean threats were made.

Now, I could go out there and storm his fucking vehicle, but I know about cops shooting first then asking questions later. I’m sure he would somehow be validated for shooting me dead and saying I attacked him, armed or not.

We don’t have fancy surveillance here and the alarm system on this house is hit or miss. Whitsborough is quiet and shit like this just doesn’t happen, an alarm system was never a priority. But the longer I’m here, I’m starting to question just how safe Whitsborough is and if it is as quiet as it seems.

I pace back and forth at my front door, trying to decide what is the best course of action, and one that won’t alert the girls or make them worry. Amelia is upstairs in her room, music blaring, and Shay is in the kitchen on the phone with Dad. He’s coming home in two weeks and the rehab is planning a party for him.

“Neil,” Shay pokes her head out of the kitchen doorway, “your dad says hello.”

“Hey.” I nod.

She crinkles her brow in thought but retreats into the kitchen. I don’t have time to think up niceties to say to my dad, I need to figure out this situation, and then I need to know what this cop has on Ivy. He obviously has something on her, or they converse regularly, or… no.

My back hits the wall and I scrub my hand down my face, am I crazy? Her and the cop? A man that’s old enough to be her father, who actually looks older than her father, and he has a daughter her age? Is he the other man?

How do I find that out? I look at my front door and decide the only way I can find out is to talk to one of them directly. Ivy has proven to me she keeps most things to herself and refuses to divulge any details.

That leaves me only one option.

It’s cold tonight, the wind cuts into your skin like the cold edge of a blade and leaves behind a numbing sting. I walk down my narrow driveway and turn onto my street, sure enough, the pig is still there in what looks to be a green Honda Civic.

As I near his car, I see him straighten in his seat, and reach for something from the passenger side. I need to play this safe because I don’t know him and I really don’t know his situation with Ivy nor how much he knows about me.

I stop in front of his window and he rolls it down, giving me a disgusted look.

“Why are you in front of my house?” I ask him, my voice level.

“I was told to keep an eye on you since you are affiliated with the Greenes.” He sneers on Ivy’s last name.

“I think my family and I should’ve been informed that we had protection detail. It doesn’t really feel safe to have someone sitting outside of your house and you don’t know what’s going on.”

“Protection detail?” He laughs and the sound is pure evil. “I’m not protecting you, I’m watching you to make sure you’re not stalking the oldest Greene daughter.”

“I see.” I feel my blood begin to boil and from this point on, there’s nothing I can do to stop the rage from exploding. “Well, I’ve been so deep inside of that girl on many occasions, her wet pussy gripped my cock as she screamed my name, and my balls slapped off her skin, I don’t think I need to stalk her.”

His face slowly turns different shades of red and finally settling on a dark almost purple colour, his scar a stark white. He has a firm grip on the steering wheel and his eyes are beginning to blacken with anger.

“Maybe the police have been chasing the wrong people, sounds like this may be someone that wants what they can’t have. I’ve had it and I will continue to have it.” I smile at him, my grin wide, showing my teeth. “Anyways, you have yourself a good night, it’s cold, you should’ve brought a coffee or something.”

I turn to head back to the house when his horn beeps quickly, I look over my shoulder and see him stick his head out of the window, “you should get checked for STDs, that girl has fucked everyone and I do mean everyone.”

He’s fucked her, too. I can see it in the smug look on his red face and I know he’s not lying. He’s the other guy and it takes every fiber of my being not to storm back there and rip him from that vehicle. My steps don’t falter as I walk back up my driveway, past my car, and back inside the house.

Once inside, I let myself crash, I let the hurt and disappointment spread from my heart outward as I sink to the floor. As I was falling in love with her, she was fucking a man old enough to be her father, and by the looks of things, probably still is. We fucked once without a condom and who knows how many times she’s fucked him without one, it’s probably his baby.

Another blow to my heart, I wanted that baby, and I still want it regardless of who the father is, but I feel like I’m ripping apart from the inside out. I love Ivy and I don’t see anyone else ever taking her place, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t completely destroyed me. It’s going to take some time to put myself back together but I want to be there for her and this child.

My child.

I drag myself off the floor and begin to figure out a plan. I have a lot of money saved and I could put off college for a few more years. I can start looking for a house, my car will have to go because it’s small, and I will have to start telling my family.

Mom will be disappointed but she’ll be proud of me for doing all the things my father never did for her. That’s the bar I must pass to change the cycle and I will do it all gladly. No child should ever be without both parents if it can be avoided and I want to one day have a family, I’m ready even if it’s sooner than I planned.

I grab a Monster Energy Drink and head up to my room, thankfully it faces the driveway. I plant my ass at the seat in front of it and watch for any sort of activity. I won’t let my family fall prey to the evil bits of Whitsborough.

That includes Ivy and that little heartbeat inside of her, too.

This show I’m watching with Saxon is doing fuck all to distract me from my frantic thoughts. I want to make sure Neil is safe as well as Amelia and Shay, but I can’t do anything from this house. They’re sitting there in that house with a menacing predator at their doorstep. My warning will do nothing for them if he decides to really retaliate against me.

This child inside of me is my only bargaining chip and if I agree to terminate it, then he says he will leave me alone. I would only have the word of a rapist to rely on. He may never leave me alone, maybe he will decide that raping me is a great fucking past time, and since he got away with it once, why not keep doing it?

My dilemma? Is the tiny life inside of me worth more than all the others here, living and breathing? Who holds priority? Are Shay and Amelia less important because they aren’t my flesh and blood? What about my own family? Do they deserve to live in constant fear for a life not yet born into this world?

Another dilemma? Do I even want to bring a child into this turmoil? I can never guarantee a complete family unit. I may very well be a single mother like my grandmother was to my mother and life may be hard, too hard for such an innocent child.

“Saxon,” I turn my head and look at my brother, “what’s the perfect family?”

“An imperfect one.” He answers immediately, “families with flaws and hardships end up being stronger and more resilient.”

“That makes sense, like our family.”

“Nothing like our family.” He laughs, “maybe Mom and Dad’s families, but ours was a walk in the park.”

I want to scream at his answer because nothing I’ve been through has ever been a walk through the fucking park. From the moment Nana Jenna died, my life has been a never-ending uphill battle and some of that was brought on by my own actions, but the abuse was always their decision.

At least he’s had an easy life and Dahlia, too. Maybe my bringing this child into theirs will also teach them another important message. My hand absently strokes my flat belly and I try to imagine it big and round, filled with a moving little human.

“I’m tired,” Saxon states and rolls off my bed, “I’m going to sleep.”

“Okay.”

He walks out and throws a quick “love you” over his shoulder. I turn off my TV and roll over in bed, Neil is always on my mind and right now I hope he’s okay.

Me: Is everything okay?

When I don’t receive an answer, I try to cuddle into my blankets, and attempt to sleep. Then my phone pings and I am scrambling to see his answer, only it’s not him.

Officer Asshole: Your boyfriend is a charmer. He told me all about fucking you.

What?

Officer Asshole: I think it’s time we discuss what needs to be done.

Neil spoke to him? About me?

Me: Back off, Adam. I make my own decisions.

Thankfully after that, my phone stays silent and I finally fall into a fitful sleep.

I need to get to Neil’s house. I have been trapped in mine for four days and I know if I don’t get answers to my texts soon, I will explode. I need to know if Adam is still working his detail and if anything more is being said about me.

Mom and Dad have been quiet and we don’t see anyone else, being trapped in this house is seriously an inconvenience to me right now. Dad just came home about half an hour ago so I know Neil is home and even though I messaged him-again-I am getting no reply. Are we back at square one?

Mom is still out but that’s been normal this week, she gets in after I’m sleeping. I look out the window in my room and see a cop car sitting in the driveway. It’s not impossible to get out of the house right now but it will be difficult and I’ll have to walk my ass out in this cold weather. I know all the blind spots of our surveillance and I long ago created a getaway for the nights I wanted to party.

My fourteen-year-old self found that if I go out through Saxon’s bedroom window across the hall from me, it’s about a four-foot drop to the first level roof over the kitchen exit to the backyard and the camera located there points to the doorway only. I can shimmy down the column on the side of the roof and cut straight across the backyard to my hangout shed. This shed is flush with the fence that borders our property and there’s a slight gap that will bring me to my neighbour’s backyard.

It’s been years since I’ve attempted this and I have obviously grown a few inches in that time but I need to get the fuck out of here and see him. People have done much more for their true loves, right?

I cover myself in all black and pull my hoodie up over my head. I leave a note on my bed telling Dad that I had to go see Neil and not to worry. He’s going to worry regardless but I need to do this. Thankfully, Saxon is in the shower when I enter his room and I tip-toe past the washroom door, then slowly open his window. I can’t close it once I’m out so I know my escape route will be found out after this. I look out the window and giggle when the drop is much less than what I remembered. This is going to be easy as pie.

After I’ve hopped to the roof, I look back up at the window and let out my breath when it’s empty. It would suck to be caught at this point. I shimmy myself over the edge and wrap my legs around the column, sliding down to the ground. It’s amazing how much easier it is to do this now. I run quickly across the backyard and squeeze myself between the shed and the fence, squealing when I run into thick cobwebs. I fucking hate spiders.

Once I slip through the gap in the fence, I do a victory dance that I made it and in one filthy piece. I look down at the black clothing and cringe when I see the dirt from the shed. But it doesn’t matter because I’m free. This might’ve been the most difficult part of the breakout, but the next part will be the most annoying, and I’ve always hated the cold. I pull my hoodie tighter and begin the journey I used to take almost daily a few years ago. Maybe along the way I can feel close to Charlotte again.

Whitsborough really is filled with beautifully built homes and trees so tall they must be a couple hundred years old. Even though they are bare of leaves because of winter, they still look majestic. Our streets are clean and lined with manicured lawns every summer, god forbid there’s one yellow weed anywhere, and then the winters have perfectly plowed sidewalks, free of ice at all times. We’re babied here.

It takes about thirty minutes to get to Neil’s house from mine and the walk is slowly tiring me out, maybe due to my condition or lack of exercise lately. I’m dragging my feet and taking way longer than I should, but whatever, I’ll enjoy my freedom while I have it.

I know the exact point where the scenery of Whitsborough begins to change. About halfway, the houses gradually become smaller, the lot sizes narrower, and the trees shorter. This doesn’t mean it’s no longer beautiful by no means, simply different and still well manicured. People in this neighbourhood also take pride in their properties and maintain it well.

An intersection approaches and I remember it like yesterday, to my right brings me to Molly’s house and straight ahead brings me to Charlotte’s. I look down Molly’s street and try to bring back that time when we were best friends, when life was so much easier. Unfortunately, it’s foggy and too many horrible memories have replaced them.

I continue forward towards Charlotte’s house and keep the sight of her roof in my eyesight until I am practically upon it. I do a quick scan of the street and grin when I don’t see a cop car idling nearby. Things must be letting up and soon I can breathe once again.

The driveway is still the same with a few cracks in the asphalt and the one pothole off to the left. It’s almost like I’m transported back in time and I’m here to see my best friend, ready to cause some havoc. My chest squeezes and I take a deep breath to try and hold off the tears, they’ve been running easily lately. I just miss her.

I get to the front door and ring the doorbell, the wait making my stomach heavy with apprehension. Will he turn me away?

The door opens and I see Shay’s smiling face.

“Ivy!” She exclaims, “I thought I would never see you on our doorstep again.”

Her words send a crushing blow of guilt to my chest and I can’t stop the tears this time.

“I’m so sorry,” I choke out, “I’m so sorry for what I’ve done.”

“Oh no,” she steps out to where I am and pulls me into her arms. “Ivy, we never blamed you. You must know that it was an accident. It didn’t change how much our family loves you.”

Her words send me into incoherent sobs and she stands there enduring the cold, to comfort me. Her scent throws me back to three years ago when all I knew were the Jones’ house and her cooking. Their laughter and the nights we would all play boardgames. I didn’t know how much I missed them until this very moment and I feel ashamed that I never came by.

“Come inside.” She guides me inside the house. “I’ll make cocoa.”

My sobs slowly stop and the tears start to become less as we head to the kitchen. Everyone looks safe here and Adam is nowhere to be found. The stress I’ve been feeling these last few days is disappearing and I settle into the kitchen.

“Ivy?” I hear Neil’s voice and freeze in my seat.

He comes up beside me and leans on the table, looking down into my face.

“Have you been crying?” He sounds like he cares but then why hasn’t he been answering me?

“She came by and I may have made her cry.” Shay smiles at me, “gosh, you look more and more like your mother every time I see you.”

“Made her cry?” He’s still looking at me. “Why?”

“Girl stuff.” Shay waves him off and his eyes widen on my face.

He thinks I told her about the pregnancy, I can see the question in his eyes and I shake my head. He visibly relaxes and plops down in the seat beside me, grabbing my hand and linking our fingers. He gives it a squeeze and then chuckles, my head turns towards the sound.

“Aren’t you on lockdown?” He says quietly so Shay doesn’t hear.

“I escaped.” I say quietly and he laughs again, then I join in.

Shay turns towards us with hot mugs of cocoa.

“Young lady, I sure have missed that laugh.” Her smile widens when she sees our linked hands.

Charlotte, please forgive me because I am in love with your brother and I still love your family.

“Tell me,” Neil paces the length of his bedroom, “are you ever going to tell me who else you were sleeping with?”

“Is it important?” I cover my face with my hands, “it’s not happening anymore. It was a one time thing.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes are begging me to assure him.

“I promise.” I nod.

There’s relief there but I can also see the hurt, there’s nothing I can do to take that away, and we’ve never been exclusive. He falls onto his back on the bed beside me and runs his fingers over my back.

“We need to discuss the baby.” He murmurs.

“Don’t worry about anything,” I assure him, “let’s just wait until it’s born and if it’s yours you can decide what you want to do.”

He sits up and grabs my face between his hands, “I want to decide what to do right now. I don’t care who fathered this child, I want it to still be mine, and I want you to be mine.”

His face blurs as tears fill my eyes, “how?”

“I’ll take care of you,” his hand lands on my stomach. “Both of you.”

I admit, I wanted to hear these words and I wanted it to happen just as it has but for some reason I am filled with guilt and remorse. He still doesn’t know the truth about Charlotte and who the other man is.

If this relationship is going to work, it needs to be built on a foundation of trust, and we can’t do that with lies unresolved. I need to come clean and beg him to somehow keep the information to himself.

I’m basically going to hand him a nuclear bomb and hope he does the right thing. I want to trust that he’ll see my way, that he’ll agree with me, and we can move forward.

Before all that, I need to get the one bit of evidence I’ve kept hidden for three years, and then when he’s done with it, I’ll wait for his decision.

“I need to do a few things first,” I say slowly, “I need to get my shit in order and then we can figure this out.”

“What shit, Ivy?” His face falls, “why can’t we do this right now? Why are you always hiding something?”

I deserve that, I am always hiding something. I have my fucking reasons though and I’ve been through a lot of shit, I don’t trust easily. I want to snap on him and tell him to give me space but I know he’s trying to help and I need to start accepting it.

“I’m going to head home and sort some stuff out and then we’ll talk, okay?”

The look he gives me is one filled with mistrust and I nearly shrink from the scrutiny.

“Ivy do not leave here without sorting this out now. You don’t need to go home and curl up to wallow alone, let me help you.”

His words are like an attack, filled with condescension and guile. He’s trying to force me to do as he wants, disregarding my feelings.

“Don’t.” He points into my face, “I see you retreating into yourself again. Why do you do that?”

“I need to go.” I stand and reach for his door.

He slaps my hand away from the knob and I stare at him with shock.

“Not until we figure this out.”

“Don’t touch me,” I grit through my teeth, my emotions changing in rapid succession, anger, sadness, guilt, back to anger.

“Ivy.” He rears back from the look on my face. “Let me lov…”

“Don’t!” I cut him off and wrench open his room door.

“Ivy!” He yells, but I’m already partly down the stairs.

“Ivy?” I hear Shay but I’m out of the house and down the driveway.

I just need space to figure out what I’m doing, can’t anyone let me have it? Why does everything need to be sorted right now? There’s so much he still doesn’t know and he thinks he can just forgive it all?

He wants to get my hopes up and then smash me down when he realizes he really can’t forgive any of it. I can’t take any more disappointment and I shouldn’t have to. I want him to make a decision after he knows everything, is that wrong?

I turn onto the street, making my way back to the intersection, and to the stop sign I saw a few hours ago that gave me pause, making me remember a bit of my childhood. The innocence I had back then was so viciously ripped away and now I have to find a way to explain that to Neil.

My phone rings in my pocket and I stop at the corner of the street, pulling it out.

It’s my dad calling and I can imagine he’s fucking pissed. I look up and down the street, swiping open the phone to answer his call.

“Dad, don’t freak,” I placate him as I begin to cross the road, “I went to Neil’s…”

Have you ever heard the sound rubber makes when it fights for traction on asphalt? How about when it’s paired with the roar of an engine as a car is pushed to its limit? Both of those noises are like a symphony for disaster and they are the very last things I hear before I’m struck.

My body is slammed into the road and I’m catapulted into darkness.

How the fuck did that get so out of hand? I was professing my fucking love for the girl and it somehow got fucked up. Where did I go wrong?

I storm out of my room and stomp all the way to the basement, we have a small workout area, and I need to fucking punch into the bag. I need my body to hurt and for my sleep to be deep and dreamless. I grab up my gloves and get to work, pumping my fists against the unforgiving bag, and feeling the sweat coat my skin.

I don’t know how long I’m pummeling the bag for when Shay screams down the stairs.

“Neil!”

I rush to the stairs and look up at her, the panic evident in her features.

“It’s Ivy.” Her chest is heaving like she ran a marathon.

“What happened?” I ask as my feet work to get me up the stairs. I can feel myself slipping into fear for what I’m about to hear.

“Vin just called here and said Ivy was struck down up the street.” She’s grabbing her jacket. “They have her on the way to the hospital.”

I’m locked into place and the only thing I hear is the pounding of my heart in my ears. The room begins to spin and I try to absorb what’s real and what’s not.

“Where is Amelia?”

“Neil,” Shay grabs my face, “Amelia is with Cam, it’s Ivy who’s in trouble, do you hear me?”

I hear her, but not clearly because the pounding sound in my ears hasn’t let up. She hands me my boots and then my jacket, helping me into them like I’m a fucking child. I can’t fucking function properly right now.

Shay leads me out to the car and even puts the seat belt around me. The only thing I can focus on right now is the fact that Ivy is hurt and I just fought with her over nothing. Fucking nothing, our last interaction was about something so fucking stupid, and I can never take that back.

Shay drives like she’s a race car driver through the streets of Whitsborough, taking us to the hospital, and swinging into the emergency entrance.

“I’ll go park, you go find your girl.” Her words snap me out of my fucking stunned state and I fly out of the car. My fucking girl.

I rush through the door and nearly bowl down an elderly couple, then slide to a stop in front of the desk.

“Ivy Greene,” I pant, “I need to see Ivy Greene.”

“Hold on, Sir.” One of the nurses looks at me, “take a breath.”

“Please,” I feel liquid on my cheeks, “she’s my girlfriend and she’s been hurt.”

“Okay, Hun.” The other says as she taps on her keyboard. “Ivy Greene? She’s been rushed into surgery.” She looks up at me with pity in her green eyes, “hook a left around that corner,” she points to her right, “and her family is waiting in the room there.”

When I plow into the room, I see everyone sitting quietly, all except Ember who’s pacing and mumbling under her breath.

“Neil!” She exclaims when she sees me, “what happened?”

“I was stupid,” I’m fumbling over my words, “she got mad at me and stormed out of the house, I didn’t chase after her.”

I fall to my knees and clutch my head in my hands, my world crumbling right before my eyes.

It’s Travis that comes to his knees beside me, his hand landing on my shoulder, “this isn’t your fault, don’t let guilt eat away at you, stay strong for her. Us Greenes are pretty fucking resilient.”

“He’s right,” Vin is standing to my left, his hand landing on my other shoulder, “let’s talk out everything that happened and then we can piece together the facts.”

“Facts?” I look at them both, “she was hit, right? Where’s the driver?”

“Hit and run.” Ember growls and punches a hole straight through the wall.

“I’m going to call Adri and see how the kids are doing.” Vin steps out into the hall.

“And I’ll call Emmett and see what he's found out.” Travis stands and follows Vin out.

A fucking hit and run?

Shay rushes into the room and heads straight for Ember, grabbing her in an embrace. Shay’s the only one crying though and it’s in this very moment that I see Ivy in Ember, regardless of what Travis said.

Greenes may be resilient, but Ember is a fucking fighter, and I’m hoping that’s the stuff my girl is made of.

Three hours.

Three hours of fucking torture waiting for something. The twisting pain in my stomach and chest just continued to worsen, until the man in the white coat interrupted our hushed silence.

“Mr. and Mrs. Greene?”

Both Ember and Vin stand up, rushing to the doctor.

“She’s out of surgery but there’s a few things we need to discuss. We can do it in her room, she’s resting there now.”

What things? I stand to ask those questions but Shay grabs my arm, pulling me back, and shaking her head.

“Let her parents go first.”

I turn back and see their retreating backs, heads bowed together. I want to know what needs to be discussed and I want to see Ivy. I need to see Ivy. When Vin told me the intersection where she was hit, I nearly screamed with frustration because that’s a problem area, and people are running the stop signs there all the time. Amelia was almost hit the year before.

“This isn’t Charlotte, Neil.” Shay says quietly as she tries once again to tug me back into my seat, “Ivy will be okay.”

Charlotte.

It’s like God is laughing at me from up in the sky, another tragic accident involving a girl I love, and somehow connected them together.

“I love her.” I say quietly and Shay rubs my arm.

“I know.”

I hear hurried footsteps and then see a flustered Carmelo barge into the room.

“Where is she?” He’s panting and he has this wild look in his eye. “No one told me.”

“Bro,” I motion to the seat beside me, “come sit. She’s out of surgery and her parents are with her.”

I watch as he nearly collapses with relief and slowly comes to the seat I pointed out.

“I thought… it was like last time…” he looks at me with sadness. “You know.”

“Yeah man, I know.” I nod because I know exactly what he means. “I should’ve called you but I’ve been pretty fucking useless for the last few hours.”

He nods and we sit there in silence, waiting for answers. Right now, time is my worst fucking enemy.

“CHARLOTTE! PULL OVER!” I screech, my voice panicked. “Pull the fuck over!”

“Why did you let us become this?” She sounds sad, so fucking sad. “I’m so tired of pretending.”

“Charlotte,” I touch my fingers to her cheek, “stop the car.”

“I’m in a lot of trouble, Ivy.” She whispers as the tires screech on another sharp bend.

“What trouble? Tell me.”

“Mom is kicking me out for taking her pills. My school is kicking me out for selling them.” Her cheeks shine with all her tears, “I need the money.”

“I will give you money, you don’t need to do all of that, you know this.” I beg for her to see reason.

“I tried to get you out of my mind and I used him to do it.”

“Used who?” I ask, my stomach dropping with dread.

“You don’t know him, he’s goes to my school.” She whispers and wipes her nose on her sleeve. The car swerves with her motion and I scream until she rights it.

“Please Charlotte, please pull over.”

“I wanted us to raise it together, like a family.” She ends her words on a sob. “My family will never forgive me.”

“For what?”

“I got pregnant!” She screams and I startle at the sudden volume change.

“Oh no.” I breathe and she turns her head to look at me.

That was the wrong thing to say because she growls in frustration and clenches her fingers on the wheel.

“I love you!” She screams, “we could’ve raised this baby together.”

She’s pregnant and as terrible as that is, she’s also been heavily taking drugs. This Charlotte that’s in front of me isn’t the real version, the real one is sweet and level-headed, and she would’ve never gotten herself into this trouble. No, this is something wild Ivy Greene would be expected to do and I can’t help but think maybe it’s due to my influence over the years.

All of this is my fault and Charlotte is a by-product of my toxic personality.

“Okay,” I nod, “pull over, we’ll do it. We’ll raise this baby and live happily fucking ever after, okay Charlotte?”

“I don’t believe you, Ivy.” She sounds resigned, “if I can’t have you, no one can.”

Her face becomes still, not a trace of emotion etched into the features, and her body tightens. I look straight ahead and see a sign that states ‘dead end’, Charlotte doesn’t ease up on the gas. We fly down the small residential street and I know what’s going to happen.

I close my eyes and let myself drift out of my body, detached from everything. I think of my family and how much I love them, even though I don’t show it. I think of Charlotte and how much I’ve wronged her. And then I think of me and how little faith I put into myself. I accept everything and when it’s over, I can only hope I end up where Nana Jenna is.

The car jolts a bit as it hits a wooden barrier, but it does little to slow us down, and then it feels like we’re taking off on a runway. My eyes stay tightly shut as my stomach lifts to my throat and then we hit the ground, my body jarring with the impact.

I hear Charlotte mutter an ‘oh God,’ the car slams into an object, and then the sound of crunching metal, like what I heard at the Demolition Derby Dad took us to one year. My seatbelt locks and tightens across my chest, cutting into the skin. The airbag deploys and my face bounces off the material, like a hard smack. It’s hard to breathe, the pain slowly penetrates my insides, and my body begins to scream in protest.

The smell of burning metal and gasoline hits my nostril, the combined scents forcing my eyes open. Charlotte groans beside me and I turn my head-the pain slicing up my neck-to look at her. The first thing I see is her face against the deployed airbag and blood dripping off her chin. Her skin is completely covered in blood.

“Charlotte.” My voice breaks and my arm feels like lead as I reach for her.

She makes a weird noise every time she sucks in a breath and it’s short, the effort rattling in her chest.

“No.” I moan.

I can’t let her be the one to get in trouble for this, it’s all my fault, and the only reason we’ve ended up here is because of me. Everything is because of me. I click the button of her seatbelt and she slides forward, her body flush with the wheel. Then I release mine and I pull the lever to open my door. It takes a few small pushes but the door finally gives and swings open wide.

The car is on a steep slope and the drop off at the cliff is only about five feet ahead, the large tree saved us from certain death.

“Charlotte, wait.” I tell her and pull myself out of the car.

As soon as my feet hit the earth, my legs collapse under me, and my knees sink into the mud. Standing is too difficult as I battle the gravity of the slope and the pain in my legs, so I crawl. I claw through sticks and leaves, pulling my body to the back of the car, and then let myself slide feet first to the driver’s side door.

I reach up and grab the lever, tugging the door open, and letting it fly wide like mine did. Using the door as leverage, I haul myself up to standing, and lean against it as I reach inside for Charlotte.

She’s so fucking heavy, her body unmoving as I pull her out, and lay her on the mud.

“Charlotte,” I sink to my knees beside her, “can you hear me?”

“Ivy…” her voice is weak and she sounds like she’s far away. “I’m sorry…”

“No!” I scream and gasp when I hear sirens in the distance. Someone must’ve heard the crash, “help is coming, Charlotte… please.”

“Ivy…” the rattling in her chest sounds worse, “I love…” her body relaxes into my hold and I scream as the rattling noise disappears.

“Charlotte! No!” I shake her and her head lolls at the movement. “Take me instead!” I scream at whoever is taking her away. “Take me!”

The sirens are just above now and the lights are illuminating the area around us in red and blue, but I can’t take my eyes off my best friend’s face. She looks at peace and I hate it, I want that peace. I want to go with her. I want to take her fucking place.

I hear a few shouts and hear the crunch of sticks and leaves as people come for us. But it’s fucking useless.

Because they are too fucking late.

There are voices that don’t belong in my memory. My mom and my dad, they weren’t with me and Charlotte that night. How can I hear them? If they were there, they would know my lie about driving, and Charlotte would be blamed. But that’s not how it went.

I was questioned thoroughly at the hospital, about the drag marks around the car, about the severity of Charlotte's injuries and how she couldn’t have been the one to do it. The front driver’s side of the car took the brunt of the damage, causing Charlotte’s head to hit the steering wheel before the bag deployed, and then the bag breaking her ribs, puncturing her lung.

But I maintained that that couldn’t have happened because I was in the driver’s seat and she was my passenger. I had been drinking and decided to take us on a joyride. After days of rigorous questions, there wasn’t much more they could do without my story changing, and instead suggest my penalty would be a reform school of sorts.

Rodney agreed to the terms and refused to press charges, and my family shipped me off to Johnstone Academy to start my sentence. I’ve never told a soul about what really happened and I always maintained it was me. But I was going to tell Neil, I wanted him to know me, and that meant every single secret that was festering inside of me. I wanted to lay myself bare and wait for his judgement.

As the memory fades, Charlotte’s face appears in front of mine, and she looks beautiful. Her face is radiant and she has a bright glow around her, her smile wide. I miss her smile and seeing it now makes me want to beg her to take me with her, again.

“Ivy.” She sounds like she’s singing and speaking at the same time, a slight echo in her words. “Ivy, I love you.”

“I’m sorry.” I manage to force the words out, “Charlotte, I’m so sorry.”

“No,” she shakes her head and her ponytail of tight curls sways behind her. “Don’t be, Ivy. You were a great friend to me and I was not in the right state of mind. I’m sorry for what I did to us.”

“Take me with you,” I beg her. “It’s too hard to be here.”

“I can’t,” her smile grows wide again. “My brother will help you. Let him help you, Ivy.”

“I want to be with you.”

“Tell my brother the truth, okay? Tell him it was me, I was driving, and tell him I’m sorry. I think you two were always meant to be.”

Her voice begins to fade and her face is becoming foggy, “no, wait!” I exclaim.

“Don’t worry,” she giggles, “I’ll take care of this little one. She’s safe with me until we see you again.”

The first time I regained consciousness was to see Mom’s face hovering over mine, her eyes filled with worry. Then she began to laugh and smothered her face into my neck. Dad and Saxon were clapping in the background and my Little Flower climbed up on the bed.

“Ivy!” She squealed and even though the sound literally pierced through my skull, I was so happy to hear it. “You have been sleeping for so long!”

“Really?” My voice sounds groggy and hoarse.

“And you sound a little scary.” She whispers and everyone laughs.

“You’ve been out for a week.” Dad says as he steps up into view. “Had us worried about you.”

Every one of my family’s faces gathers around me and I look into each of their eyes. I see so much love and it makes me feel stupid for how badly I’ve treated them over the years.

“The doctors let us all in here because you were waking up but it really should only be two at a time.” Mom says. “Did you want to see everyone or do you want to rest?”

“I want to see Neil.” I clear my throat and wince at the pain.

“Okay,” Dad smiles. “You have a few broken ribs, so taking deep breaths will be painful, and you took a heavy hit to the noggin. Other than that, you are fine.”

Fine?

My hands move and cover my stomach, am I still fine?

“Can you guys give us a minute?” Mom asks and everyone begins to leave the room. “Ivy,” her voice cracks, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s gone, isn’t it?” I wasn’t far along but I could sense the life inside of me, now it’s just… empty.

“Yes, baby.” She begins to cry.

“It’s okay, Mom.” I will myself not to cry, “Charlotte has her.”

“I’m sure she will love her.” Mom says through her tears.

“Charlotte was driving the car.” I look my mom in the eye, “I lied and said it was me because I made her angry.”

“I know, baby. I always knew that but there was no budging you to tell me the truth. I’m sorry you had to be sent away.”

I nod because what else can I do? It wasn’t her fault that I lied and I was a juvenile who was under the influence. Not to mention, neither of us had licenses to drive. I may have looked like I got off easy but those two years were complete torture.

“Does Neil know?” I ask her. “About the…” I look to my stomach.

“No.” She shakes her head. “Do you want to talk to him?”

“Yes.” I whisper.

She kisses my forehead and then leaves the room. There’s so much to tell him and I can only hope he wants to hear it.

The creak of the door sounds in the room and when I see his face, I begin to cry. We’ve come a long way and I love him so much. He rushes to my side and gathers me into his arms.

“I love you.” He says as he kisses my temple. “I love you so much, I need that to be the first thing you hear from me.”

“I love you, too.” I whisper into his chest. “I lost it.” The grief I finally feel consumes me and I begin to sob into his chest, “she’s gone.”

“She?” His voice cracks.

“Charlotte has her.” I tell him between sobs.

Then we’re both sobbing together as he rocks us back and forth. His hand buried in my hair and his tears dripping on my face.

“Charlotte will take care of her,” he finally collects himself. “I promise.”

“Charlotte came to see me.” I hope he doesn’t think I sound crazy. I don’t want him to dismiss this.

“She did?” His tear-soaked face looks down into mine.

“She wants me to tell you the truth. Can I tell you the truth now, Neil?”

He crawls up into bed beside me and hauls me onto his chest, his steady heartbeat sounding in my ear.

“Please.” He says.

“When Nana Jenna died, I was so upset, she was the only one besides Charlotte that ever understood me, and I felt like my world was ending. My parents were dealing in their own way and I was practically left alone. I drank… a lot and then I called Charlotte to come over. She did of course, she always came when I needed her, and when I begged her to get me out of the house, she did that, too.

“We were driving for only ten minutes when she began to ask me questions about the two of us. She confessed that she loved me and thought I felt the same. To be fair, I was fooling around with her and discovering my own sexuality, never taking her feelings into consideration. I wasn’t in love with her and she knew it at that moment.

“She had been abusing Oxy for a while and I knew she could be erratic with her moods, but that night was extreme. She was so angry and I did nothing to help it. I should’ve been more sensitive to her feelings but I was so messed up with mine.”

“Ivy, why did you hold this inside for so long?”

“Because I never wanted anyone to blame her, she didn’t deserve that. She wasn’t herself that night when we crashed into that tree. She died in my arms…” I sob again, “telling me she loved me. I loved her, too. I really loved her… just not the way she wanted.”

Neil’s chest moves against my face as he cries and I burrow in closer.

“You let yourself be punished for juvenile manslaughter, Ivy.”

“I didn’t want her to be remembered as the girl who tried to commit murder/suicide. I kept something of hers from you and her family for three years now. I was going to go home and get it the day… when the… when I was struck.” I force out.

“What is it?”

“Do you remember that diary she always carried around with her? The pink one with that flimsy lock strap?” I ask him.

I see recognition in his eyes as he nods.

“She brought it to my house that night along with a change of clothes. I gave your family back her clothes but I kept the diary. At first I didn’t want to read it, but I was afraid of what might be in there, and I was right.” I whisper. “When I read it, I began to see the anguish Charlotte lived through.”

“What’s in there?”

“Charlotte had secrets and as much as I loved her, the last year of her life was hard on her. I’ll give you the diary when I get out of here.” I promise him.

I will also tell him everything else I endured, but for now I just want him to hold me and stay here while I sleep.

“Did you see the car that hit you, baby?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” I struggle to piece together that day, “I remember the sounds and the smell of burning rubber. Maybe a quick flash of green?”

I feel him tense under me and I lift my head to look at him, “why? The cops haven’t found them?”

“Not yet.” His voice is different and his face is starting to look weird.

I’m too fucking tired to decipher his features and I drop my head back to his chest, maybe Charlotte will come to me again.

I lift her off me and set her back down on the pillows, she fucking said green. The car was green. I walk softly out of the room and look back at her, the love swelling in my chest.

The way she opened up about Charlotte to me and admitted the truth of the accident, I knew in my heart she was being honest. Why would she tell me lies now after doing years at a boarding school for her supposed crime?

She did something that would destroy her reputation to save my sister’s and now I’m going to repay the favour.

She said the fucking car was green.

I get out into the hall and Vin steps forward, “she’s okay?”

“Yeah, sleeping.” I nod, “I’m going to head home and shower before she wakes up again.”

“Did she say anything about what happened? Does she remember anything?” Ember asks me.

“Nah,” I shake my head, “we were talking about… other stuff.”

“Right.” She murmurs.

“I’ll be back.” I head down the hallway and out through the exit to the parking lot.

My heart is thrumming wildly and it’s hard to swallow, I know who ran my girl down.

I get in my car and punch the steering wheel, the anger inside me swelling uncontrollably.

My tires burn as I pull out of the parking lot and race back to my house. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to catch him on my street.

I laugh-the sound unfamiliar-when I see that he switched up the green Honda Civic for a parking control police car. I’ve never felt this much anger in my life, not even when I thought Ivy killed my baby sister.

After I park my car in my driveway, I make my way back out to the street, drop my clenched fists into my pockets, find the hospital latex gloves, and somehow find the control to saunter to his vehicle.

The sun set about an hour ago, the sky still a bit illuminated, and the pitch black night not yet here. I discreetly pull the gloves on and make sure to keep my hands in my pocket. He sees me coming and I notice him look to his right, into the passenger seat.

I open the back passenger door and slide across the seat, in these parking enforcement cars, there’s no grate between the front and back.

“Get out.” His eyes flash with anger.

I do the complete opposite and push myself between the two front seats, there indeed is a gun on the passenger seat.

“Nah,” I say, “today Ivy woke up.”

He has no reaction as he continues to watch me through his rear view mirror.

“She can’t remember the fucking car that hit her, so I came to ask you what the police know.”

“I can’t speak about it,” he snarls, “it’s an open investigation.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” I quickly snatch up the gun from the seat and turn off the safety. “It’s not smart for a cop to have his gun just chillin’ like that right?”

I lean back in the seat and grin, the gun firmly in my hand but pointing at the floor.

“You can go to jail for a long time for taking a cop’s gun.” He’s no longer snarling and his body is as stiff as a fucking board.

“I don’t think anyone will ever find out and if they do, I know some people.” I smile wide when I see his throat working hard to swallow. “Thing is, Ivy said something about seeing a flash of green and I thought that was fucking funny. Any idea why?”

“It’s funny she got hit?” He asks quietly.

“Careful, Deputy Dipshit, I can see intelligence is not needed to enter the academy, huh?” I tap the back of his head with the barrel of the gun, “I’m saying it’s funny because I know a guy with a green car,” I shove his head with the gun, “don’t I?”

“Why are you doing this? Because I slept with her once? Are you so jealous?” His words are like an accelerant to a flame, “don’t end up in jail for a whore.”

“You’re just angry you could only get it once, huh?”

He snorts like I said something funny, “I take what I want, no need to be angry.”

He takes what he wants? Like he forced her? Did Deputy Dipshit rape my girl? Was she too ashamed to tell me?

Everything in my vision flips to red and he sees the exact moment it does.

“No,” he begins to shake his head. “Listen, I didn’t hurt her.”

I slam the handle of the gun into the back of his head and he falls forward with a grunt, he’s out fucking cold.

I step out of the car and walk to the front passenger side. I sit in the seat and press the gun to his temple, then I say a quick prayer. The moment I pull the trigger, a complete sense of calm comes over me, and I’m suddenly lighter than I’ve been in a long while.

Grabbing his right hand, I slap it a couple times against the blood on his head, and then position the gun on the floor by his feet, letting his hand hang down over it.

Fuck, that shouldn’t have felt so good, right?

After spending two weeks in the hospital and then another month practically bedridden at home, my ribs are nearly healed. I can now laugh loudly and breathe deeply, and the whole time I had the best company.

Carmelo spent the weekends he wasn’t training in New York here with me, Cam would randomly pop in with Amelia in tow, my brother and sister barely left my side, and Neil treated me like his princess.

Mom and Dad have been attentive and at times really overbearing, but I love it. Uncle Travis brought over books for me to read, Aunt Adri tried to kill me again with her cooking, and Uncle Emmett solved my case. He really did.

When Officer Adam Van Dyke failed to show up to work a few days in a row, they traced his cop car to outside of Neil’s house, it looked like he was staking him out, but he wasn’t asked to do that.

Uncle Emmett was the one that found him with a self inflicted gunshot wound to the head and when his location was suspiciously near where I was hit, Uncle Emmett obtained a search warrant for his house. They found the green Honda Civic with an Ivy sized dent on the front left side and my blood on the hood. My parents also figure it was Adam standing at our gates that night, do they know for sure? No. Do I? Fuck yes.

Maybe he was feeling tortured about what he had done to me and felt like he was going to be caught for it, I’m not sure but I’m glad he’s gone. Are all my problems fixed? Hell no. I still have Dean to worry about. He’s been eerily quiet since I threatened him with child pornography and rape, but that doesn’t mean shit. He may be just planning my next big problem.

My first day home, I gave Neil the diary, and sat on the bed to cry with him as he read. When he learned she was being bullied for wearing second-hand clothes to when she decided to sell pills to buy new ones, we cried. When he learned she began taking those pills to experiment and decided she really liked them, we cried. Her professing her feelings for me and still feeling confused because she liked a guy at school, we cried.

But when he read about her pregnancy and how she decided to somehow move to Whitsborough and raise the child with me, we lost it. It was a hard few days after that but eventually the heaviness of grief began to subside and his healing began.

“Babe,” Neil moans and rolls into me, burying his face into my stomach, “I can’t watch these true crime shows anymore.”

“Fine, let’s do Harry Potter.” I pick up my remote and point it at the TV.

“Ivy Greene, we’ve fucking marathoned that like three times now.” He hovers over my face and gently kisses me.

Everything he does to me is gentle and it’s fucking frustrating, I want some rough-unable to containment himself-love. I try to deepen the kiss but he pulls away and gives me a stern look.

“What?” I toss my hands up in frustration. “I want my boyfriend.”

“Say it again,” his eyes darken and the smirk on his full lips is sinful.

“What? That I want you?”

“No, you called me your boyfriend.” His lips brush over mine, “say it again.”

“You’re my boyfriend, Neil Jones.”

He crushes his lips to mine and I moan, the opening giving him the chance to devour me. His tongue swipes against mine and I writhe underneath him, trying to press myself to him.

He pulls back abruptly and rests his forehead to mine, “not yet, baby.”

“When?” I am really fucking frustrated.

“I know.” Is all he says. “I should get home though.”

“Yeah.” I groan and hit him with a pillow.

“I love you.” He kisses me softly.

“I love you, too.” I reply.

He stands from the bed and I watch him like he’s my last fucking meal. I may be horny and all but my man is fucking fine. I get up from the bed and only wince a little when I bend to stand. Soon, I will be back to normal.

I walk Neil to the front door and swoon when he cups my face, kissing me softly.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, “I’ll text you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.”

After I watch him walk to his car and drive down my driveway out of sight, I finally close the door. The house is quiet, Saxon and Dahlia are asleep, and Mom and Dad are watching TV in their room.

I decide an early night and a good sleep is just what I need as I head back to my room. I plop on my bed and roll myself up like a burrito in my blanket.

“Get up, kid.” I’m startled awake by my jacket hitting my face, “we’re going for a ride.” Mom is standing in the doorway of my room and I look at my phone for the time.

“Mom,” I whine, “it’s four in the morning.”

“You can sleep in the car, let’s go.” Her voice brokers no room for argument.

I get up out of bed and begin to follow her into the hallway.

“No, Ivy.” She looks me up and down, “go back and dress in black.”

What the fuck?

“Mom.”

“Just do it, Ivy. For fucksakes, listen just this once.” Fucking bossy.

With a huff, I turn around and head back to my room. I find a black pair of leggings and a baggy black hoodie. When I come back out, I throw my arms up, and twirl on the spot.

“Perfect,” she nods and leads us down the stairs.

“Black boots.” She says and I give her a salute.

She sounds like a drill sergeant right now and I don’t know where the hell we’re going. I once again follow her out the door and into our black Mercedes. I call this our celebrity car because it’s all blacked out.

“Where are we going?” I yawn and slouch down in my seat.

“Just sleep, I’ll wake you up when I get there.”

She’s in a fucking mood so I don’t bother to argue with her. Instead, I do what she says and I fall asleep.

“Did you ever wonder what really happened with Mr. O’Connor?” Mom’s voice wakes me up from my sleep.

The sun is bright and I groan as my sensitive eyes are attacked by the sudden light.

“What?” I croak out.

“Mr. O’Connor and his partner Mr. Pratt.” She huffs like she’s annoyed with having to repeat herself.

“What about them?” I am suddenly awake and staring at my mother.

“Did you ever wonder why they left so abruptly?”

“Yes, I asked Aunt Adri, why?” I speak slowly.

“I’m only giving you one chance to answer me honestly,” her voice is different. “Did they hurt you?”

“No.” I answer truthfully.

“Did you do things you shouldn’t do with a teacher with them?” My palms begin to sweat and I look at the car’s surroundings.

“Are we in New York?”

“Answer the question.” She snaps her fingers in front of my face.

“Yes.” I whisper. “Only Mr. O’Connor, not Mr. Pratt.”

“Mr. Pratt didn’t try anything on you?”

How does she know all this?

“He didn’t really, no. But I think he thought I would join him and Mr. O’Connor.” I tell her, watching her face closely as she drives.

“I got rid of them.”

At first her words don’t register and I blink a few times in confusion.

“What?” I ask.

“I got rid of them.” She changes lanes and shrugs. “Your Aunt Adri had her suspicions and I never ignore those.”

“Mom,” I sit up straight, “please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I went by Mr. O’Connor’s house around eight the evening Adri told me about seeing you run out of the school. Just to chat.” She grins, “Mr. O’Connor was shocked to see me and said, and I quote, ‘whatever Ivy has told you, it’s not true, Mrs. Greene’, I told him I was there just for a quick chat about my troubled teenage daughter.”

“Mom, stop.” I feel like my eyes are going to pop out of my head.

“They agreed, it must be hard raising a daughter as troubled as you, so far into drugs, and partying all the time. It was all I needed to know so I could do what I needed to do.”

“This has to be a joke.”

I look around once more just as we pull into the Torres’ Compound. Why the fuck are we here?

“Mom!” I yell into the car’s interior, “what did you do to Mr. O’Connor?”

“I wanted to kill them Ivy,” her voice is deadly low and the tone sounds nothing like the mother I know. “No one should touch a minor, no matter how much they ask for it.” Her eyes cut to mine, “I made them leave Whitsborough and they were only allowed to take what their pockets could fill. That’s it. But I promise you, if they ever bring their pedophile asses back into my town, I will skin them alive and you will fucking watch.”

I can feel my mouth gaping open and shut, my eyes about ready to pop out of my head. I make a few squeaking noises but I can’t seem to form a fucking word.

“I gave you the name Greene,” her bright blue eyes stare into mine, “but you are a fucking Torres. Maybe, I needed to do this sooner because Ivy, you became a victim of the very thing I’m eradicating.”

“Mom,” I’m fucking speechless, “I don’t…”

“Let’s go.” She opens her car door and slams it shut behind her.

I slowly get out and look around the compound, now that I’m older this place looks less menacing and more deserted. This area is comprised of mostly factories and this building looks like one above land, but underneath it’s a fucking village.

The large garage style door in the front opens and I see my Uncle Trent stand there with his hands on his hips.

“If it ain’t my two most favourite ladies.” I love the man but I need him to fuck off so I can talk to my fucking mother.

“Hey Mano,” Mom pulls him in for a hug.

“Ivy!” He pulls me in for a hug, “are you here to see your mama fight? Should be a doozy one.” He grins.

“She’s here for the job, too.” Mom interjects and Uncle Trent’s head snaps towards her.

“What?” His brows drop and his eyes narrow, “did I hear that right?”

“She should be there, don’t you agree?”

“I don’t know, Loca.” Trent eyes me, “she’s not like you, at her age you were… different.”

“Ivy,” she turns on me. “He thinks you’re weak.”

“Wait,” Uncle Trent throws up his hands, “I said different.”

“You’re not weak,” Mom walks ahead of us and towards the elevators, “and you’re going to prove it.”

I chase after her as Uncle Trent closes the door. “Mom!” I’m panting when I get to her side.

“What?” She asks exasperated.

“Are you making me fight?”

Her mouth turns up into a sadistic smile and she smooths her hand down my hair.

“No baby,” she tugs softly on the hair’s ends, “something far worse.”

“Ember,” Uncle Trent says with a warning in his tone.

“Tell him you’re a Torres.” She’s staring intently at me and I want to please her but above all else, I trust her.

“I’m a Torres, Uncle Trent.” I say it with force and a bit of annoyance that he thinks me weak. After everything I’ve been through, I am far from weak.

“That’s my girl.” Mom pats my cheek and we step into the elevator.

“What is this going to be? Black Slaughter’s apprenticeship? Her sidekick training program?” Uncle Trent asks my mother. Black Slaughter? That’s what Dean was saying.

“Black Slaughter?” I ask Mom as we step off the elevator.

“Come with me,” she grabs my hand and leads me down the corridor to where the dorms are.

She pulls me into a room and shuts the door. I look around in awe at the posters of my mom on the walls and her fight gear on the small table in the corner. It’s a small room with a queen bed in the center, side tables, a desk, and a washroom/closet combo. She has a small bar fridge on her table and when I open it, there’s Gatorades and water inside.

“I think it’s time I told you about our family, Ivy, and what it is we do.” She says as she sits on the bed.

I don’t know why I’m suddenly scared and nervous, I shouldn’t be because I always knew my family’s past was strange.

“I was raised by a single mother, this much you know, and you know I didn’t find Uncle Emmett until I was about your age. But what you don’t know is that my father was a mob boss, the kingpin of the underground world here in New York. He had his hand in pretty much everything, prostitution, human trafficking, drugs, weapons, the police, and government officials.

“When my mother had me and Emmett, Nana Jenna helped her escape but she was only able to take me, and Emmett was stuck here to be raised in a mob environment. My father ended up going to prison because my mother testified to the FBI, he went away for fifteen years for money laundering and racketeering. That was all they could get proof of. My father was angry and most of all he was angry with the woman he supposedly loved.

“Do you remember how my mother died?”

“You said she died in a house fire.” I nod. My heart feels like it’s going to fly out of my chest.

“She did.” She nods, “that fire was started by my father as soon as he got out of prison.”

“He killed her?” I breathe and slowly sit down beside her.

“Yes, then I was sent to live in Whitsborough until the night he found me and kidnapped me here, that was the same night I met your Uncle Carm.”

“Here?” I ask her.

“I was kept in this very room, a prisoner, and I was forced to fight in the ring. Only those fights weren’t regular fights and I wasn’t prepared for what he would make me do.”

“What did he make you do?” I ask her.

“Each fight was to the death.”

“You had to kill people?” My stomach turns at the thought.

“Or be killed. So yes, I killed people. My last fight was against Uncle Tommy and I couldn’t kill him, so Carm shot him for me.” Her eyes become glassy.

“But Uncle Tommy is alive.” I shake my head in confusion.

“Yes, but I didn’t find that out until a few years later. When I thought they had killed Tommy, something inside me flipped and I became the very thing my father craved. He had tried to mold your Uncle Emmett into a cold hearted killer, but it didn’t work and here I was the exact thing he wanted, only he was my target.

“That night, I tortured and killed my own father. I was found covered in his blood with a gun in my pocket.” She surprises me when she looks at me and smiles. “That’s when my life became what it is today.”

“What do you mean?”

“I began to crave the feeling of killing people. I wanted to feel the blood slick between my fingers and watch as life leaves a person’s body. I knew it was wrong and I knew I would have to suppress it or find another way to express it.”

“To express killing people, Mom?” I exclaim, “do you know how crazy this sounds?” I stand to my feet, “does Dad know?”

“Baby,” she chuckles, “I killed your dad’s father for the abuse he put him and your Uncle Travis through, you bet your sweet cheeks he knows.”

“Mom, who the hell are you?” I feel the tears run down my cheeks.

“I am Black Slaughter.”

“What does that mean?” I can’t seem to take a full breath and my chest is starting to hurt.

“It means, I wanted to get rid of the people like your grandfather Greene, the ones so sick and twisted, and at the same time calm the darkness inside of me. You know it,” she grins, “I see it in you too, Ivy. That feeling deep inside yourself,” she taps her chest, “and it burns to be set free.”

I know exactly what she means and it’s scaring me to think this feeling inside me would make me want to end people’s lives. I couldn’t hurt anyone, no matter how vile they were.

“How many people have you killed?” I ask her.

“Is that what’s really important right now?” She raises her brow at me and the room spins, that means a lot.

This woman sitting in front of me is nothing like the mother I know. She seems aloof and a bit psychotic. Dean was asking me about the Black Slaughter and now I know he was talking about my mother, he couldn’t know it was my mother, and I bet he’s scared shitless if she has no problems killing pedophiles.

“Why did you bring me, Mom?” I know the answer and my insides freeze as I wait for her answer.

“Dean Thompson.”

“Fuck.” I sit back on the bed. “You want to kill him.”

“No,” she shakes her head and stands up. “I want you to.” Then I stare at her as she walks out of the room.

She wants me to kill my pedophile rapist.

It’s six in the evening and we just watched as Dean’s secretary got into her car and drove out of Johnstone’s parking lot.

“He’ll be alone now.” I whisper. “How did you find out?”

“Trent and I received a tip from a co-worker about the dean of Johnstone Academy and how much he likes to punish his girls.”

I feel fucking sick.

“Trent does a lot of recon work and he found out that much of what the tipster said was true. He found videos, photos, and even some mementos.”

I know those mementos, sometimes it was a lock of my hair, and sometimes it would be a pair of my panties.

“You were a part of his collection, Ivy.” Her voice shakes and she takes a deep breath, “I failed you because I thought our name was enough to protect you, I’m sorry.”

“Mom,” I try to make her listen, “I can’t kill anyone.”

“You may change your mind, but I won’t force you,” she turns her tear filled eyes on me, “but understand, he will not be breathing when we leave his office.”

“Okay.” I concede.

“Pull your hood over your head, the makeup conceals your face but our hair can still be distinguished on camera.”

I flip down the visor and look into the small square mirror. Mom painted my face into a decorative skull. It’s gorgeously grotesque. My eyes are blackened to resemble sockets, my nose is tipped in black, she’s coated my lips a bright red but black lines through it resemble teeth, and on my forehead is a bright red rose. She called it a sugar skull and said it came from our Mexican heritage. My face is a mirror image of her own and we look like a pair of Trick or Treaters.

“Let’s get this over with.” She rubs her hands together and we get out of the car.

The doors to Johnstone Academy are still unlocked but the hallways are empty, I can hear the faraway hum of the floor polisher and luckily the custodian is far from Dean’s office. We hook a left at the first corridor and I see the secretary’s office up ahead, beside hers is Dean’s. I’m petrified but at the same time, I’m excited to see fear in his eyes. Maybe Mom is right, the darkness really is inside of me, waiting to be unleashed.

I’m shocked when she opens the secretary’s door and softly closes it behind us. Dean’s office is always locked from the corridor, to get to him, you have to use the adjoining door from the secretary’s office.

I open my mouth to ask her how she knew, but she turns on me abruptly and presses her finger to her mouth. I nod and gulp back my words. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Mom opens the door and I hear a bit of rustling, “Carol, did you forget something?”

His voice has me freezing on the spot and I can’t seem to collect my thoughts. Mom steps into the room and I hear Dean jump from his chair with a shout.

“Hello Jerry Thompson,” Mom literally coos. “I heard you’ve been asking around about me.”

I can’t move from this spot in the secretary’s office and even though he is not in my line of sight, hearing him is having the same effect.

“Black Slaughter.” He sounds… terrified. My body relaxes and I take a few steps forward. I like that he sounds that way.

“Ding ding!” Mom claps her hands and I can’t help but grin at her antics. “You deserve a prize.”

“No,” his voice shakes and it stirs something in the pit of my stomach, “no, I don’t need a prize.”

I take a few more steps inside of his office but the door blocks me from his view.

“Too bad.” Mom takes a step towards him, “sit in your seat, Dean.” That’s what he makes everyone call him because he’s so proud of his position.

I hear his seat creak as he sits back down and my chest is brimming with adrenaline. Mom walks towards his desk and out of my line of sight.

“Wait, don’t take that out.” I hear his voice squeak with fear, “we can talk about this.”

I want to know what she has, I want to see what she does to him, and most of all, I want him to see me.

I step out from behind the door and walk up to the front of his desk, the very spot he continuously fucked me on. I see Mom twirling a large hunting knife in her hand and it has the same sugar skulls carved into the handle.

“Wait,” his hand shakes as he points to me. “There are two of you? What’s that one’s name?”

“Name?” Mom turns to look at me. I don’t have a fucking name, should I have a name? “Neither of us have names, Dean. We are Black Slaughter.”

He stands abruptly and I notice Mom tenses, her stance changing slightly. His eyes look wildly between us and he darts for the side of the desk I’m on, clearly making a run for it. Mom pushes me to the desk as she intercepts Dean with a quick punch to his ear and then a hard kick to his kneecap. He drops to the floor with a shout and I watch in astonishment as Mom punches him hard on the cheek. His skin splits and the blood swells around the wound.

“That wasn’t smart, Dean.” She begins to undo his tie. “Black Slaughter, get the chair.”

I bring one of the chairs by his desk to her side and once again I’m shocked as she tosses him into it. Dean is not a small man, he’s not as big as my dad, but he’s not small either. Mom is fucking Hercules.

He begins to struggle and she punches him another two times in the mouth, his lip splitting open.

“Keep testing me,” she snarls, “I fucking love this shit.”

Nope, definitely not my mom.

She takes his tie and wraps it around his neck as his head lolls from the blows. He’s on the brink of passing out and I can’t believe I’m feeling disappointed. I want him to struggle more so Mom will continue to punish him.

Mom is now standing behind him and the chair, tightening the tie, forcing his head up. His eyes widen and his fingers dig at the silk material, blood red in colour. Didn’t he want to see if it would match my blood?

I walk forward slowly and I can see Mom’s black painted eyebrow raise in question, but she doesn’t stop me. I swipe my fingers over his cheek, gathering the blood and then hold it against the tie.

“It really does match the colour of blood.”

The colour drains from his face and he begins to struggle again, until Mom’s fist hits the side of his head. His head snaps to the left and then he slowly lifts it up again.

“Ivy?” He questions.

I don't answer him because there’s no point. I know he knows who I am. Instead, I watch Mom knot the tie to the back of the chair and then she’s back in front of him. If he struggles too much, the fabric of the tie will dig deeper into his throat and he’ll choke. Then, Mom begins to undo his belt, pulling it from the loops, and once again stands behind him, putting me back in his view.

“I can’t believe you set this up.” He says to me. “Did you kill Serrano to?”

“No,” Mom replies, “I did make sure he received a warning.” She laughs, “I guess the coward ran.”

The more I hear his words and that smarmy voice, the angrier I get. That feeling builds more in the pit of my stomach and works its way upward. Mom wraps the belt around his left arm and tightens it to the back of the chair.

“Your belt.” She points to the one around my waist.

I undo it and hand it over, my eyes never leaving Dean’s face. His eyes are pleading with me and I can’t muster up a bit of remorse. I remember begging him to stop and pleading with him not to hurt me, he never listened.

Mom straps his other arm to the chair and then she’s methodically cutting away his dress shirt with her knife, revealing his chest that’s dusted with black and gray hairs. Dean is handsome in a sinister looking way. His hair is jet black and he is graying at his temples, his eyes are a dark brown, and his skin is pale like wax paper. He takes care of his physique because he’s not fat, but he’s not built either.

She bares his chest and then presses the tip of the blade to his skin, the indent cushioning around the edge.

“Look,” he begins to plead again. “I will leave the country and never come back again.”

“But you’ll still be a child raping piece of shit.” Mom says. “You won’t be able to control yourself.”

“Give me the knife.” My voice is sure and strong, but my arm shakes when I extend it.

I have so much energy coursing through me and I can’t seem to keep it contained. I want to make Dean bleed and see how close in colour his blood really is to that tie. I want him to cry and beg me to stop, and then I want to do it all again.

Mom hands it over without complaint and begins to stroke the hair on top of Dean’s head.

“She didn’t want to hurt you coming in here.” She mutters to him, “I think the sight of you and how weak you look is pushing her to do it.”

“Don’t do it, Ivy.” Tears roll down his cheeks, mixing with his blood. “You’re not a murderer.”

“Don’t say my name!” I scream as I grip the knife in my hand.

I walk forward and he kicks out his foot, trying to hit my legs. The movement shocks me and I stab the blade down into his thigh. The scream he makes is exhilarating and the blood soaking into his pants is mesmerizing.

I pull the blade out and cringe when blood begins to squirt out quickly.

“Looks like you hit an artery,” Mom chuckles. “He’ll bleed out soon, what else do you want to do?”

“This isn’t you.” Dean pants, “you’re not strong enough to live with this.”

“Shut up.” I shove the knife forward and it slices through the skin of his stomach like butter, sinking to the hilt. His blood is warm as it coats my fist and he grunts, but I can see he’s quickly dying.

With each stab, I imagine all the things he did to me and release them. This is my revenge and Dean can no longer haunt me.

“He’s almost dead.” Mom states as his head falls forward, the tie choking him. She holds out her hand and I pass her the knife.

She pulls his head back up by his hair and his eyes are nearly shut, unfocused. She watches my face as she brings the sharpened edge of the blade to his throat and presses in, dragging it just under the tie. Blood flows out from his throat and down over his chest, blending beautifully with the tie.

“I hope you rot in Hell,” I snarl.

Mom undoes my belt from around his arm and hands it back to me, it’s glistening with his blood.

“There you go, baby.” She smiles. “Now you have your own memento.”

Mom is training with Carmelo and she’s kicking his ass, even though he’s all fiery and angry. She just keeps whipping his back to the mat and dancing circles around him. It’s been two hours since we killed Dean and I am petrified about the police.

Mom assured me nothing would happen but I’m still scared and it’s hard to concentrate on what’s going on.

“You okay?” Uncle Trent asks as he sits beside me.

Am I okay? Yes, I’m better than what I was before, but I’m now scared for different reasons.

“Will we get arrested?” I whisper.

“No,” he chuckles and shoulder bumps me. “We own the cops here.”

Oh.

“I’m proud of you for sticking up to him and I want you to know I removed all the photos and videos he had of you.” He lets out a large breath, “I wish you would’ve told me when I went to see you.”

“I couldn’t at the time,” I mumble, “I thought I deserved it.”

He pulls me in for a hug and kisses the top of my head, “you won’t hide that shit again though because now you are Black Slaughter.”

“That’s Mom.” I look up at him.

“No, that’s the both of you.”

I don’t know why my heart warms at the prospect and maybe I am twisted in the sense that I like killing, but only if it’s justified.

“I used to kick your father’s ass on these very mats, too.” Mom says as she hugs a panting Carmelo. “You remind me a lot of him.”

“Thank you, Aunt Ember.” He grins.

Then he turns and I don’t miss the look he gives Uncle Trent’s daughter. She’s a few years younger than us but she looks like a tough bitch. I remember her a bit but I don’t know her well.

“If your cousin keeps eyeing Catalina, I am going to murder him.” Uncle Trent growls and I laugh.

I don’t bother to watch Mom’s match, I’m fucking exhausted and I don’t want to see anymore violence. I think I’ve seen enough. I get to the small room where I will be sleeping and it’s across from Mom’s. I flop on the bed and finally open my phone noticing the battery is running low. I didn’t bring a fucking charger and I know I will need to text Neil before it dies. I open up my messages to a few from him.

Neil: Good morning.

Neil: Hello?

Neil: Is everything okay?

Neil: I’m calling your house.

Neil: Spoke to your dad… call me when you can.

Me: Sorry Mom dragged me on an impromptu trip to New York.

Neil: It’s okay. I was worried. How’s the trip?

Me: I want to come home now.

We text for a bit longer and then my phone dies. I roll over with a huff and shut my eyes. I finally feel something like contentment settle in my chest, I no longer feel guilty about Charlotte, and I’m free from my abusers.

Maybe now, life can just be normal.

Our second-year anniversary is tomorrow and I am nervous as a motherfucker. I know she loves me and I know she wants to spend forever with me, but I’m still nervous. I pull the ring box out of my pocket and stare at it. This fucker cost me a near fortune and I thank the fact that I am now Vice President of Legendary Wheels.

Ivy comes home from school today for reading week and I can’t wait to sink myself so deep inside of her, then ask her to be my wife. My family is so excited and even Dad has decorated the backyard.

Rodney Jones came out of rehab a changed man and has never looked at another drink. Amelia is doing well in high school and I’m so proud of her. Everything fell into place perfectly after Ivy’s accident and I just want to make the rest of her life something she is deserving of.

I guzzle down my bottle of water. I wish I could have something stronger but we don’t have alcohol in this house, and I respect my father’s wishes. I hear a car pull up in the driveway and I know it’s the Greenes, Vin texted me when they were leaving.

My stomach tries to force itself up my throat as I breathe to try and pull myself together. She won't say no to me, she wouldn’t, right? Ivy is really independent and we’ve never discussed marriage. It took everything to sit her down and talk about our relationship, making it clear we were exclusive.

“Hey!” Vin’s voice screams out from the front door. “We’re here!”

I rush out and I’m nearly plowed down when Ivy jumps up on me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“Hi baby!” She screams and I chuckle.

“Hey.” I kiss her softly.

“Hi Neil.” Ember kisses my cheek and Vin shoots me a wink.

“Sup, bro?” Saxon nods, his voice cracking with puberty.

“I want like four hotdogs!” Dahlia screams and runs for the backyard.

“Oh, I want a hot dog, too.” Ivy breathes in my ear and I’m instantly hard. “Let them go outside, I think I can have you cumming down my throat in two minutes tops.”

“Ivy.” I say her name low with warning.

She drops her feet to the floor and yanks on my arm, pulling me into Shay’s pantry. It’s fucking small and we need to press together for the door to even shut. My girl drops to her knees and I freak out that she’ll find the box, so I rush my slacks open for her.

“Impatient, hmm?” She chuckles and she pulls me from my boxers, giving me a few quick tugs.

I am impatient but also hella nervous. I haven’t seen Ivy in two weeks because she’s been studying for midterms and she stays in a dorm in Toronto, so yes, my dick is ready to cum down her fucking throat.

She flattens her tongue and runs it over the head of my cock, making me jerk against her lips. She chuckles and drops her jaw, then she takes me down to the base of her throat. I groan and toss my head back, causing a bag of pasta to drop to the floor.

Ivy gags and pulls back, laughing when she sees the pasta on the floor.

“Don’t make a lot of noise,” she whispers, “our families are here.”

You don’t fucking say?

Then she’s sucking me back into her mouth, her saliva dripping down my shaft, and her throat constricting as she forces me deeper. I don’t think I’ll last the two fucking minutes, I already feel my balls tighten, and the sensations spreading up my cock.

“Fuck, I’m…”

She moans around me and I drop my head back once again as I feel myself explode inside her mouth. She slurps me fucking dry and then tucks me gently back into my boxers. She stands and I watch as a small drop of my cum sits on her full bottom lip.

I wipe it with my thumb and press inside her mouth, “don’t waste it, Jones.” I whisper.

“You mean Greene,” she chuckles as she sucks my thumb off.

Not for much longer.

We make our way out of the pantry and follow the family outside into the backyard. Ivy rushes over to her uncles and aunt while I fret some more.

“You look like you’re going to puke.” Vin gives me a disgusted look.

“I feel like I’m going to puke.”

“You think she’ll say yes?” He asks and I look at him with shock.

“Do you think she will?” I whisper harshly.

“It’s a toss up, my girl don’t need no man, you know?”

I fucking hate him right now.

Then he fucking throws his head back and laughs, his dreads swinging back and forth.

“I love fucking with you, man.”

“Fucking stop it.” I mumble as he continues to chuckle.

I step out to the middle of the backyard and a hush settles over everyone but Ivy. She’s still bragging to Carmelo and Cam about something.

“Ivy,” I call out to her and she turns, looking around curiously. I hook my finger at her and beckon her to me.

“What’s going on?” She asks when I take her hands.

“Don’t kick me in the balls or anything like that, deal?” I say.

“Why is everyone so quiet?”

I get down to my knee and pull the tiny box out of my pocket.

“Oh shit.” She whispers and I don’t know how to take that. But I continue forward.

“Ivy Greene,” I look up into her bright ocean eyes and the fear in them. “I think I loved you since the night I saw you hop up on the hood of your car at the strip.”

“Neil!” She hisses and looks around.

Carmelo laughs heartily.

“She won that night, by the way.” I tell everyone and I hear chuckles.

“Shut up.” She hisses and kicks my knee lightly.

“I will love you for the rest of my life if you’ll let me. I will take care of you and do anything necessary to keep you safe. I want you to have my children and I want to grow so old together that we can’t even remember each other’s names.”

I hear a few more chuckles but it’s the tears on my girl’s cheeks that I’m paying attention to.

“There will never be another for me, Ivy Greene. Will you marry me?”

She gnaws on her bottom lip and my stomach crashes to the ground. Then her mouth widens and she tosses her head back.

“Fuck yes!” She screams to the sky.

IT’S A LITTLE CHILLY OUT TONIGHT and the wind bites at the tip of my nose. I pull my jacket around me and turn onto the fucker’s street. After everything I worked for, putting my actual blood, sweat, and tears into this place, and still somehow my daughter fell through Whitsborough’s cracks. I’d find it almost laughable if it wasn’t my fucking daughter.

My first born, the one that tested me at every turn, and laughed at the most sadistic things. How did she fall through the cracks?

I blame myself.

It was my responsibility to teach her about these things and that monsters do exist, living right under our noses. Even the most vile wear pretty faces and smell like heaven, waiting for their prey to be at their most vulnerable. Ivy has been through enough and it breaks my heart knowing it all happened under my nose.

I see his house and grin when I feel that familiar feeling swirl in my belly. I really want to kill them, bleed them dry, and watch the life slowly leave their eyes. But Vin seems to think that they should just get the fuck out of Whitsborough, and I can’t bring myself to stress him out even more. He’s telling me our daughter wanted it and she even has a taste for men in authority positions, it wasn’t necessarily rape.

In my eyes, his dick shouldn’t have been anywhere near hers but again… less stress for my family.

I walk up his driveway and see that both of their cars are here, perfect. I crack my neck and wince at the pain that skips down my spine, I’m getting older. Killing and fighting are going to have to slow down, and I may have to consider retirement. I will need a replacement first.

The doorbell rings and I swear it’s to the tune of It’s Raining Men. It should be singing something about school girls in kilts. My jaw clenches as the door swings open showing a slightly perturbed O’Connor. His face quickly transforms into one of horror and I can’t help the snort that falls from my mouth.

“Mrs. Greene,” he sputters, “are you here about Ivy? Whatever it is she said, I assure you it’s not what it seems, I just…”

“I was hoping we could chat regarding my daughter whom I can’t seem to control for the life of me.” I put on a super sugary tone.

“Oh,” his shoulders relax and he brushes back his hair, “sure, of course. Come in, I am a bit worried about her, too.”

He leads me into his house and straight to the family room where his partner Mr. Pratt is sitting. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and he gives O’Connor a look.

“Mrs. Greene is here to talk about Ivy and how troubling she’s becoming.” O’Connor says as I take a seat across from Pratt.

“Oh, the drugs.” Pratt nods, “some kids experiment but Ivy has taken it to extremes…”

“Shut the fuck up, both of you.” The room instantly falls silent, “did you actually fucking think I came here to talk to you about my daughter?” They don’t answer and I chuckle, “I guess I am, which one of you stuck your dick in her?”

I know which one did, I just love making fuckers squirm.

“Mrs. Greene,” O’Connor clears his throat, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave…”

I jump to my feet and grab his wrist, twisting it behind his back. He leans forward when I apply pressure and screams.

“Hey!” Pratt jumps to his feet.

I press the arm up a little more and O’Connor screams again, halting Pratt.

“I wouldn’t try anything,” I warn him, “or I will break his arm and then I’ll kill you both.”

I really want to kill them both.

“Here’s how it’s going to go down,” I speak slow and calm because even though they’re teachers, they must be dumb as fuck. “You’re going to walk your asses straight out that door, get in this cunt’s car, and drive the fuck out of Whitsborough.”

“What about our stuff?” Pratt asks. See? Fucking dumb.

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before thinking it was a good idea to stick your dick in my daughter.” I snarl.

“I didn’t…” Pratt starts.

“I know.” I grin at him and break O’Connor’s arm.

The sound of the bone breaking is delicious but then coupled with his screams? Nearly orgasmic.

I kick him to the ground and Pratt takes a step toward me, his jaw ticking. He’s bigger than O’Connor and I really do want to see if he can use his size.

“You want some too?” I grin.

“Don’t.” O’Connor pants as he slowly stands on his feet. “We’ll leave.”

“We will?” Pratt stares at him dumbfounded.

“Yes, we’ll go to my mother's place in Manitoba, is that far enough?” He looks at me.

“Not really but I’ll allow it.” I shrug. “I wanted you in Hell.”

O’Connor grabs his keys in his one good hand and tosses them to Pratt.

“You need a hospital.” Pratt growls.

“Let’s get out of Whitsborough and then we’ll go to the nearest one.” O’Connor’s eyes keep flicking back to my face.

“Our clothes?” Pratt whines.

“Get new clothes, bitch.” I clap. “Hurry up, I don’t have all night and neither do you.”

“My car…” Pratt whines a bit more and I bitch slap him hard across the face.

“Get the fuck out of this town, sell your fucking car with the house.” I hold my hand out, “give me the keys.”

He drops his keys into my palm while rubbing his cheeks, his eyes are alight with anger but he’s at least smart enough to shut his fucking mouth.

They walk slowly out the door, one cradling his arm, and the other rubbing his face.

Bunch of fucking pussies.

Continue on to read a chapter from Desecrated Essence...

To my family and friends who I hope never find out I wrote any of my books, thank you for dealing with my no shows, complete disregard of all communication, and blatant lies about what I was up to. Love you though.

To my husband and sons who I also hope never read any of my books, thank you for being so self-sufficient and leaving me alone. It was much appreciated and I love you so much.

To Samantha La Mar, first off, thank you for the beautiful cover. Your hard work and dedication to everything you do, sets you above and beyond anyone else. Thank you for accepting me on as your client and always know that I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me grow as an author. Now, let me sit back and watch your ass become famous. Love you.

To my beta readers, Samantha, Jocelyn, Tash, Kristin, Gemma, and Amber, thank you so much for all the positive feedback and the honest critiques, without you, I wouldn’t have finished this thing. I love you ladies.

To my editor Lori, the amount of shit I put you through and you still come crawling back is sick, you’re sick. Fucking masochist. I love you so much.

To my street team peoples, thank you so much for pushing my teasers and announcements, all the rec’s, and just the love you show. I see it all and I appreciate you guys so damn much. I love you.

To you, my readers, you guys fucking rock. I am so lucky to have you find me and these books. You give me the motivation to open this laptop every day and tap on these keys. I write for you.

I love you.

C.A. Rene

The computer screen is my canvas and the keyboard is my brush. Thank you for viewing my masterpieces. My addictions include coffee, books, and WINE, in that order.

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C.A’s Renegades

Whitsborough Chronicles Series

Through the Pain
Into Darkness
Finding the Light
To Redemption

Whitsborough Progenies

Ivy’s Venom
Carmelo’s Malice
Saxon’s Distortion

Desecrated Duet

Desecrated Flesh
Desecrated Essence

Violent Tendencies Anthology

Sing Me A Song
The Reaper Incarnate

Hail Mary Duet

Blue 42

Prologue

I watch her letting him guide her with his hand on her lower back and let a growl escape my lips. Doesn’t she know she belongs to me? She’s always belonged to me. This fucker, the Teacher no less, is helping her into his vehicle and she looks up at him with a laugh. Her eyes squint and I just know the hazel is shining bright in them, like they once did for me. I want to rip that laugh out of her throat and ram it down his. Their relationship is the hardest to watch and that’s all I’ve been doing-watching.

When it’s Cooper, they’re playful and annoyingly content, with Caine, it’s intense and borderline dangerous, but with this one, she feels protected and secure. I hate this one the most, not that I don’t hate the others, but this one leaves me burning to maim.

He leans into the passenger seat and I watch as his lips press into hers and I can imagine she moans like the wanton whore she’s become.

They’ve made it a habit to park his car a few blocks from the school so as not to attract attention, but I see them.

I always see them.

They drive off and I lean back against the brick, fighting with the Monster within. The one that wants to watch her suffer at its hands because she killed my brother, because she loves them, because she fucking left me. I’m constantly at war with him but he’s starting to make me see his perspective, she needs to pay for her wrongs.

Everyone pays eventually, I stare down at my hands, still tinged in pink, and scrape some dry rust colored blood from under my nails.

Everyone will pay.