Page 73 of Disturbed Lucidity

“This relationship with Ivy isn’t going to work if neither of you won’t talk to each other. You can have all the sex in the world, but that won’t fix the problem, Luc. Have you told Ivy you were married once before?”

Sitting back down, I muttered, “No. My past doesn’t matter.”

“If you think that, then how do you expect Ivy to open up about hers? Relationships need work and communication to survive, Luc. It’s a two-way street. It’s give and take. How can you expect Ivy to talk about her past when you won’t talk about yours?”

“Does she talk about her past with you?”

Logic shook his head. “What Ivy talks about with me is confidential and you know it. This session is about you. I’m going to give you the same advice I gave Ivy. Go talk with her.”

A knock at the door had us both looking up as Frost stuck his head in. “Detective is here.”

“Guess that concludes today’s session. Same time tomorrow?”

I growled, flipping the fucker off as I stormed out of his office.

Fucking talking was for the birds.

I preferred action.

“Thank you for taking the time to see me.” Detective Robin Calloway smiled, sitting across the table from me and Ivy. The woman was not what I was expecting. Petite and gentle looking, she looked more like a porcelain doll than a New York City police detective. Still, she wore a badge, and that meant I couldn’t trust her. That, and after dealing with Ivy’s ass since she arrived, I knew looks could be deceiving where women were involved. Already had my hands full with one of their sex, I didn’t need problems with another.

While the rest of the brothers weren’t exactly here for the meeting, they were listening in. “I just have a few questions for you, Ms. Scott. It’s come to my attention that you might have some information that might help me.”

“About what?”

Opening a folder, the detective slid a photograph toward Ivy. Instead of touching it, she just stared down at the picture, showing the detective nothing.

Not even a flicker of emotion.

Looking myself, I could clearly see the burned outline of a trident on the leg of a body. Still red and swollen, I’d have to be blind to not realize that whoever killed this kid was a sadistic son of a bitch.

“All the victims have had that mark seared into their skin. Branded. I was told you bear that mark too. Is that correct?”

Ivy shrugged, being deliberately evasive. “Maybe. Why does it matter?”

“It is my belief that whoever gave you your mark is the same person killing these kids. I’m hoping you will help me catch this killer and bring him to justice.”

Ivy scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. “Good luck with that because no one has been able to stop him. You’re barking up the wrong tree, Detective. I can’t help you.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Ivy shrugged, saying nothing more.

The detective sighed, leaning over the folder on the table. “Ivy, I know this must be scary.”

“Who said I was scared?”

“If you need protection, I can call the FBI and make arrangements for you to be placed in the Witness Protection Program. This killer will never know it was you who helped bring him to justice.”

“That’s where you are wrong.” Ivy smirked. “You think he doesn’t know you’re the one working the case? You think he hasn’t been watching you, waiting in the shadows for you to put the pieces together? That son of a bitch knows everything. He’s smart, cunning, and has friends everywhere. There is nothing you can do to him. Look, I’m sorry those kids died. I really am. But you are crazier than me if you think you’ve been hunting a killer. Lady, you can’t hunt the hunter, and trust me, he is hunting, and you just led him straight to me.”

I stiffened when Slash slowly stood.

Agony and Trash growled as the rest of the clubhouse stopped pretending and all stared at Ivy.

“Ivy, what do you mean by that?” I asked, facing her.

When she refused to say anything, I reached for her hands. “Talk to me, babe. Who’s hunting you?”

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