Page 12 of Corrupting Ivy

Gritting my teeth, I skirted around her to go inside, regretting getting involved. I should have left her on her ass in the back. I tugged on the handle, but it didn’t budge. I was sensing a theme here.

“It’s locked,” she said.

I took a deep breath and rubbed my fingers along my brow, then sat in one of the wood rocking chairs she once occupied. Interlacing my fingers over my chest, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes. If I couldn’t get inside, this was where I’d get some sleep tonight. It was better than some places I’ve had to rest my head before.

“What are you doing?”

Opening one lid, I glanced at her to find her standing over me. “It would appear I’m going to sleep. Now stop hovering.”

She scoffed. “You can’t sleep out here. The mosquitoes will eat you alive.”

Clearing my throat, I wiggled to a more comfortable position, then closed my eyes once more. “It’s not like I have a choice, now do I? We’re locked out.”

The wood creaked as she walked away towards the gravel parking lot. She was leaving, and I’d finally get my peace and quiet—minus all the insects searching for their next meal. The gravel crunched under the weight of her steps as she walked away. Then, as if she changed her mind, they started coming back towards me. I followed her with my mind’s eye before she came to a stop.

I sighed and opened my eyes to stare at the woman. “What?”

She twisted her hands in front of her and bit her plump lip. “I, um… I don’t typically ask… I mean, he’s never done this before.”

I tapped my foot against the decrepit wood. “Out with it.” I snipped at her a little too harshly, but I hadn’t any patience.

She puffed out her cheeks and blew the air trapped between her lips. “Nevermind,” she said as she pulled at the corner of her shirt.

“No, finish your sentence.”

This girl drove me crazy as I watched her fidget with an uncomfortableness that filled the space between us.

She crossed and uncrossed her arms, then glanced towards the string she’d worked free from her shirt. “Could you, um… walk me home? Please?”

I grunted with silent laughter.

This was rich.

I was not blind to the irony, and I desperately wanted to make her realize it.

I stood from my rocking chair and stepped towards her, watching her breath hitch in her chest as her eyes locked onto mine. Grabbing a lock of hair, I leaned in and smelled the floral scent that tormented me. “What gave you the impression I was a safer bet?”

Of course, I was more deadly than her attacker and she didn’t even realize it. But then again, how would she? Here she was asking a killer, a psychopath, a man who enjoyed inflicting pain just to hear the screams of the individuals beneath my hands, to walk her home… to keep her ‘safe.’

She shook her head. “I…”

There she went with the stuttering again. My mind conjured an image from the deepest, darkest depths of my depravity: my hands wrapped around her throat, my lips pressed to hers, muffling her broken sentences. It was an image that had me swelling inside my jeans.

She stepped back from me, her hair falling from my fingertips. “I thought maybe because you were friends with Remy.”

I cracked a smile. “Hmm. Don’t you have a car?”

“It’s a small town. I walk when I can.” She tucked the stray lock behind her ear and swallowed. Her throat moved up and down, constricting with apprehension. “Never mind, I’ll um… figure something out.”

Part of me wanted to let her walk away just to see how she’d make out, while the other half of me growled with possessive fervor.

The woman had a stalker, and he was up to no good. I could feel in my bones.

I held my hand out to her in a silent bid for her to show me the way.

The slight tension between us dissipated as she plastered a sweet smile across her lips. She stepped off the porch and headed towards the center of town with me beside her.

“Thank you.”

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