Wicked Times (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 3) Page 7
“Ivy?”
She didn’t answer.
Jack didn’t know what to do. He was nowhere near done talking to her. They had to come up with a plan to keep her safe until he could figure out who was after him. For lack of a better idea, Jack removed his shoes and climbed into bed next to her. His initial plan was to remain on top of the covers, but the second he felt her body turn in his direction he gave in to what his heart wanted and slid underneath them.
Ivy’s body was warm as she rested her head against his shoulder, making a soft murmuring sound as she slumbered. Jack slipped his arm under her waist and pulled her against him, almost crying out because she felt so good in his arms.
“I’m only doing this because we still need to talk and I’m exhausted, too,” Jack said, although he knew Ivy was beyond hearing him. “I’m not doing this for any other reason.”
Even Jack didn’t believe it. He smoothed her hair down and rested his cheek against her forehead. “You’re killing me. I can’t be responsible for killing you, though.”
Jack held up a one-sided conversation for a few more minutes, but Ivy’s mere presence was enough solace to relax him. Before he knew it, the storm raged outside as peace found him inside.
His last thought was of her anguished face before sleep claimed him.
Nine
Jack woke slowly, sleep trying to drag him back down even as he fought to get his bearings. Ivy’s bedroom was mostly dark, only a thin sliver of light filtering in as the sun finished its descent into the horizon outside. He was in exactly the same spot as when he fell asleep, Ivy clutched against his chest.
She was still out, her face placid and angelic in sleep. He traced the line of her cheek as he watched her. He couldn’t stand being away from her. He hated it. He’d hurt and disappointed her, and then the moment she was too weak to stop him he’d climbed into her bed so he could take comfort in her even though it was the last thing she wanted.
That didn’t seem fair.
Jack knew she was going to be an unholy terror when she woke and found him holding her. That didn’t stop him from doing it. Instead he spent the next twenty minutes running his finger over every inch of her face, touching her lips and smoothing her eyebrows. He wanted to memorize every inch of her, because he was pretty sure he’d never be this close to happiness again.
That thought was enough to fill Jack with insurmountable dread. He’d only known her a few weeks and yet the thought of letting her go paralyzed him. How was he supposed to do this?
Suddenly Jack realized he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look her in the eye and walk away. He wasn’t capable of physically doing it. He would crumble, and if he crumbled and followed his heart her life would be in danger. He couldn’t do that.
Jack pressed a soft kiss to Ivy’s forehead. “You’ll never know how sorry I am. I can’t let you die, though.” His voice was barely a whisper.
He was careful as he slipped his arm from beneath her, lowering her head to the pillow so she wouldn’t stir. He tucked the blankets in close, slipping her feet – which always ended up peeking out from underneath the covers as she slept – back beneath the sheet.
He’d leave her a note. He told himself that was the best thing to do even as his heart fractured. He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Not again. She would break if he did anything of the sort, and he couldn’t stand the thought of that.
He searched the end of the bed for his shoes, holding them in his hand as he studied her still silhouette. He would give anything in the world to crawl back in that bed with her and fix things. He knew that wasn’t going to be an option. He kept telling himself that he would apologize when it was all said and done. He would win her back then. Deep down he knew it would never be the same because he’d already lost her trust.
Jack exhaled heavily and turned to the door, his fingers wrapping around the handle as his heart urged him to look at her one more time. Jack impulsively turned back to find Ivy sitting up in bed, her eyes glittering with unspoken accusation as they met his across the room.
“Oh, honey … .”
IVY didn’t know who she was more furious with, Jack or herself. She woke from her heavy sleep – realizing she hadn’t dreamed for the first time in weeks – to find Jack slinking out of her bedroom.
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Ivy, I was going to leave a note on your counter,” Jack offered, realizing how lame the explanation sounded before the words even finished leaving his mouth. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You need your rest.”
“Yes, and you don’t want to deal with me,” Ivy said, throwing the covers off her body and climbing out of bed.
Jack almost growled at the sight of those stupid panties again. She was trying to torture him. There could be no other explanation.
Instead of reclaiming her canvas trousers from the floor, Ivy yanked a pair of yoga pants out of the dresser and shimmied into them. By the time she reached the door she was completely put together – well, except for the adorable bedhead – and the look she sent Jack was chilling. “Are you just going to stand there, or do you need my help to open the door?”
“What?” Jack was still fixated on the memory of her pale skin before she covered herself.
“Can you only open the door when you’re going to sneak out and abandon me, or can you do it with an audience, too?”
Jack snapped back to reality. Now was not the time to … he couldn’t help but wonder if her bra matched her panties. Wait, now definitely wasn’t the time for that. “After you, Your Highness,” Jack said, throwing open the door and bowing low so Ivy could stride into the hallway ahead of him.
Jack watched her hips swing as she walked, cursing himself for this entire mess, and frowning when he saw Ivy head straight for the refrigerator. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Ivy shoved her hair away from her face and focused on the contents of her refrigerator.
“Ivy, I … can’t stay for dinner,” Jack said, swallowing the lump in his throat. He was going to crush her all over again. He didn’t have a choice, though. He missed an entire day of work – texting Brian that he would be in later in the afternoon – and now he had to make up the time. There was an enemy out there, and if he had any shot of making things right with Ivy – no matter how remote – he was going to have to solve this case first. “I’m really sorry. Any other time I would … .”
Ivy knit her eyebrows together. “Did I miss the part of the conversation where I invited you to dinner?”
“I … .” Jack’s cheeks burned as he realized how far he’d overreached. “I guess you didn’t.”
“No,” Ivy agreed, turning back to the refrigerator. “I most certainly did not invite you to dinner. Do you know what’s funny, though?” Ivy glanced back at him. “I was supposed to make you dinner last night. I thought we would finally get a chance to … .”
Jack knew what she thought they would finally get a chance to do. He’d indulged in the same daydream before she was shot. “Ivy, I am so … .”
“Don’t say you’re sorry again,” Ivy ordered, shaking her finger. “Don’t you dare say it!”
Under any other circumstances Jack would’ve found her righteous indignation comical. He would’ve gladly spent the next twenty minutes teasing her until she gave in and kissed him senseless. He could only hope that would be in their future again … somehow.
“We need to have a quick talk,” Jack said, his voice low. “Whoever is after me might go after you again. You’re important to me, which means if someone is trying to hurt me they’ll go after you.”
“Oh, that’s such a crock of crap,” Ivy shot back. “If I was in real danger you would be camped out on my couch to protect me … like last time. You’re not worried about me. You’re worried about me causing a scene and embarrassing you. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I have no intention of even acknowledging you’re alive from here on out. You are
essentially dead to me.”
Jack scowled. If she was trying to get under his skin she was doing a bang-up job of it. “You listen to me … .”
“No, I’m done listening to you,” Ivy said, cutting him off. “You are not my boss and you’re not my father. I’m my own boss and … well … technically I’m my father’s boss, too. Although, he never listens to me no matter what I say. I guess you two have that in common.”
“Ivy, I don’t care how angry you are with me, you’re damned well going to listen to me,” Jack growled. “I have been to hell and back again and the only thing I know with absolute certainty is that I cannot let anything happen to you.
“I barely made it off the operating table and I had months of physical therapy before I was on my feet,” he continued. “Putting you at arm’s length hurts ten times more than that ever did.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes. “Liar.”
“Oh, stuff it,” Jack snapped, taking both of them by surprise.
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
“Shut your mouth.”
“You shut your mouth!”
“Why don’t you both shut your mouths.” Max walked through the front door, not bothering to knock, and glanced between Ivy and Jack. “What’s going on?”
“Why is your front door unlocked, Ivy? I just told you that you had to be careful,” Jack said. “You need to lock your door.”
“You walked in behind me,” Ivy reminded him. “I was trying to lock you out when you forced your way in. It’s your fault the door isn’t locked.”
Max narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean he forced his way in?”
“I tried to shut the door and he wouldn’t let me.” Ivy was suddenly prim and proper, although there was a gleam in her eye. If Jack didn’t know better, he would think she was having a good time fighting with him.
“You forced your way into my sister’s house?” Max challenged, tossing his keys on the coffee table and stalking around the edge of the couch. Jack held his ground, even though he was worried Max would start throwing punches. He didn’t blame the man for being upset.
“She was in pain from exerting her shoulder and I wanted to check on it,” Jack said, holding up his hands and refusing to make any sudden moves. “I’m actually glad you’re here. Your sister won’t listen to reason. Maybe you will.”
“Why would I possibly listen to anything you have to say?”
“Because … Ivy could be in danger,” Jack replied simply.
“You know who’s going to be in danger? You,” Max said. “You’re a jackass.”
“I may be a jackass … okay, I’m definitely a jackass … but that doesn’t mean that Ivy isn’t in danger,” Jack said.
“You have exactly thirty seconds to tell me why that is,” Max said. “After that I’m beating your ass.”
“Make sure you take him outside to do it,” Ivy called from the refrigerator. “I was shot. I shouldn’t have to clean the house, too.”
Jack frowned. “You shouldn’t be making jokes about that. This is serious.”
“Oh, you’re turning it into a soap opera all on your own,” Ivy replied. “I don’t have the energy to get worked up.”
Jack rolled his neck until it cracked and turned his attention back to Max. He explained about the ballistics match and what it meant, Max asking the appropriate questions and shooting the occasional worried look in Ivy’s direction. Twenty minutes later, Max was all caught up.
“Is that it?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Jack challenged.
“It’s a mess,” Max agreed. “I honestly hope you find who is doing this. Whoever it is wants to torture you. I feel bad for you.”
“Don’t feel bad for me,” Jack said. “Just … take care of your sister.”
“Oh, that’s what I’m doing,” Max said. “We need to take this outside now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have to kick your ass,” Max explained. “She’s my sister and you broke her heart. It’s my job to kick you in your special place and make you cry.”
“I already want to cry,” Jack muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He cast a forlorn look in Ivy’s direction as she mixed something in a bowl behind the counter. “Watch her. Keep her safe.”
“It’s too late for that,” Max said. “You already hurt her more than any bullet ever could.”
“If you think I’m proud of that, I’m not,” Jack said. “I can’t … if something were to happen to her … .”
Max’s expression softened before he caught himself. “I’m sorry. You still need an ass whooping.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Is that what will make you feel better? Your sister smacked me across the face earlier. She seemed to enjoy that.”
“You’re not bleeding so she obviously didn’t do it hard enough.”
“No one is going to fight,” Ivy said, injecting herself into the conversation for the first time in almost a half hour. “It’s done. Leave him alone, Max. He has enough on his mind.”
“Are you honestly going to protect him?” Max was incensed.
“I’m honestly going to … let him go,” Ivy replied, wiping her hands off on a dishtowel and crossing the room. “You should probably go, Jack.”
Jack’s heart lurched. He knew what she was saying and it hurt. “Ivy, when this is over, we can start again. It will be better. I promise. I just … I have to keep you safe. That’s the one thing that I need to do above all else.
“Just give me a few days,” he pleaded. “We can start again.”
“We can’t go back,” Ivy said, her voice cracking. “You picked this as our outcome. You made the decision for both of us. You did this. Now you have to live with it because I can’t let you break my heart twice. Now … go.”
Ten
“Well, well, well. You don’t look so bad for someone who was shot … other than that dirty look on your face.”
Felicity Goodings studied Ivy from behind the counter of her magic shop the next morning. In truth, while Ivy was a beautiful girl, she looked downtrodden and miserable right now. That wasn’t enhancing her beauty.
“Ha, ha. You’re so funny I forgot to laugh.” Ivy hopped up on one of the stools across from her aunt and let loose with a dramatic sigh that would only be welcome on a teenage television show.
“Is something wrong, dear?” Felicity tamped down her laughter. When she first heard Ivy was shot she was in her car and on the way to the hospital without giving it a second thought. She never had children of her own, so her sister’s children became surrogates. She loved both Max and Ivy with her whole heart.
After talking to Max, though, he explained Ivy was in no mood to be smothered – at least by family – and it would be better to wait to see her. Felicity knew it would only be a matter of time before Ivy came to her.
They were kindred souls – even though Ivy refused to acknowledge the magical things sprouting up in her life – and Felicity was convinced Ivy was coming into her own as a witch. She would never tell her niece that, though. The girl wasn’t ready for something like that.
“Why would anything be wrong?” Ivy asked, sarcasm practically dripping from her tongue. “My life is perfect. Haven’t you heard?”
Felicity pursed her lips. Something was definitely going on here. “Why are you so depressed?”
“I was shot.”
“I know you were shot. You were the lead story on the local news two days running.”
Ivy knit her eyebrows together. “I was? I didn’t know that. Did they use a photograph? I hate the way I look in photographs.”
Felicity couldn’t rein in her smile this time. Of course that would be the thing Ivy focused on. “They used a nice photo of you and Max,” she said. “I believe your brother supplied it from his own personal stash. He looked very handsome in it.”
Ivy scowled. “That means I probably looked goofy, doesn’t it?”
“Actually you looked beautiful,” Felicity countered. “It was
taken last summer at the nursery. You had a beautiful skirt on, and a bright smile on your face. You’re wearing neither today.”
Ivy glanced down at her plain cargo pants and simple black shirt. “I’m not in the mood to dress up.”
“I can see that,” Felicity said. “Do you want to tell me what happened to inspire this mood?”
“Jack broke up with me.”
Felicity wasn’t sure if she heard her niece correctly. “I’m sorry … what?”
“Jack dumped me,” Ivy said matter-of-factly. “Actually, I’m not sure we actually got to that part. He waited with me in the hospital until Max showed up and then he just … took off.”
“I don’t understand,” Felicity said, confused. “Jack adores you. You two fight like you’re going to rip each other’s clothes off any second. Why would he do that?”
“He’s done with me.”
Felicity rolled her eyes. She could tell Ivy was feeling sorry for herself. The things she was saying about Jack made absolutely no sense, though. She’d seen the duo together. The atmosphere around them positively crackled when they were in the same room. “What did he say?”
“What does that matter?”
Felicity narrowed her eyes. She was in no mood for games. “Is Jack struggling because of what happened to him?” Despite her best intentions, Felicity accidentally got a gander at Jack’s wretched past when she inadvertently read his aura weeks before. She promised to keep it to herself, but since Ivy already knew about the shooting she wasn’t breaking any oaths. “You know it’s probably hard for him to deal with a shooting when it happens to someone he cares about. You should have a little patience.”
“Yes, this all my fault,” Ivy deadpanned. “I did not come here to listen to you take up for poor Jack and his moody bag of tricks.”
Felicity chuckled. She couldn’t help herself. “Let me see if I understand what’s going on,” she suggested. “You got shot and Jack freaked out. Instead of doting on you like you thought he should, he disappeared to freak out on his own.