Page 123 of Corrupting Ivy

He rushed me, then grabbed hold of my upper arms, and turned me to face him. “Stop.”

“No. I can’t.” The dam broke as panic set in my lungs like a vice grip, seizing the life from me. If I stopped, their cries would paralyze me.

Tears blurred the blood splattered across his demon tattoo escaping from his chest.

I wasn’t afraid of him. He protected me, he saved me… again. But I’ll never get the screams out of my head or the sound of their bodies thumping against the machine as they were pulverized into dust. He put them there, even if it wasn’t his intention.

I shoved my hands through my hair and pulled as I wheezed, the memory flashing in my mind anew.

Was I having a mental breakdown?

Was this the tipping point that broke my psyche and had me rocking in a chair for the rest of my life while orderlies fed me pills for breakfast?

“Paint me as the villain, Ivy.” He shook my shoulders. “Look at me.” I sniffed and gazed up at him. “I won’t apologize for what I did.”

“That’s not…” I shook my head.

I didn’t see him as a villain.

If anything, he was my hero, in archaic terms.

He had it all wrong. I wasn’t running from him. I just needed the screaming to stop.

My gaze met his beautiful chestnut-brown eyes. They no longer resembled that of a possessed man. They were filled with sympathy and tenderness.

He pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head, and I let him. “You don’t see it now, but you will. This was for the best.”

I shook my head and lowered my eyes, the tears still falling.

“You’re lucky all he wanted to do was kill you. With the department in his back pocket, he could have crucified you and thrown you in a dark hole in prison to never see the light of day again.” He tipped my head, forcing me to look back at him. “Did you want that?”

Again, he had it all wrong. I wasn’t upset or mad at him. They deserved it. So why was I making him feel as though I was? Why couldn’t I articulate a single word and tell him how grateful I was, that he was the light of my everything?

Instead, I held my tongue as he embraced me in his arms, keeping me safe, and chasing away the darkness.

“I’m not…”

“If you had stayed where I put you, you wouldn’t have seen that. I tried to protect you,” he said with a hint of anger.

If I had stayed, I wouldn’t feel so dead inside right now.

God, what is wrong with me?

The vice in my chest released its hold as I thought about how he treated me, cherished me, and, most importantly, protected me.

How he’d followed me across state lines and put his own life in jeopardy just to save mine.

I never thanked him.

I broke.

Squeezing him tighter, I dug my face into his chest despite the blood drying there.

“I don’t think of you as the villain, Randall,” I said, finally able to find my voice and put his doubts at ease. “I wouldn’t ask you to apologize for protecting me.”

The mental images plaguing me diminished as I held him, but I knew the moment he let go of me, they’d reappear and taunt me.

“Thank you.”

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