Page 45 of Corrupting Ivy

We drove into the next town over to the 24hr laundromat. Again, an awkward silence encompassed the truck cab. “How long did you live here?” I blurted, no longer able to contain the uncomfortable ache.

“I moved when I was a teen. What about you?”

He was engaging in small talk, and my stomach swirled with a thrill. “I was born and raised in Greenville, Montana until I… left.”

“Why did you leave?”

I winced, and picked at my cuticle while looking out the window. “It’s complicated.”

“We’ve got time.”

Tears blurred my vision, but I wiped them up before they dared to fall. I cleared my throat. “My husband was abusing me.”

“Your husband?” he asked, looking my way with narrowed eyes.

“I guess I can call him my ex now?” I chortled, finding humor where there was none.

“You got a divorce?”

My stomach twisted in knots. I’d told him what no one else knew. I hadn’t spoken about it to anyone because I wanted to start over—not rehash things. “Not exactly.”

He pulled the truck over to the side of the road. Dust billowed around us as he skidded to a stop. My heart leaped into my throat. I think I’m going to be sick. Slamming the gear lever into park, he turned towards me in his seat. “Ivy. Are you still married?”

“Yes… I mean, no. I mean, I um… uh.” I cracked my knuckles and bit my lip while fidgeting in my seat. “One night, he came home from work. Billy, that’s his name… was,” I said, unable to form a coherent word as his gaze bore into my soul. My throat constricted. “He came home mad as hell, about something his boss said to him. I never really got the grasp of the issue.”

I tucked my shaking hands under my thighs as Randall sat waiting for an explanation. One I wasn’t ready to give. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand and rested his elbow on the console between us, his knuckle rubbing his chin.

“I knew it would be bad because of the way he pulled into the driveway. I… um hurried into the bedroom, hoping he’d just grab the sandwich I left him on the counter and blow off some steam in the garage. Instead, he came looking for me.” I cleared my throat and looked out the window towards the massive Texas Live Oaks lining the road. “Anyway, when he found me, he beat me, worse than ever before.” I took a deep breath. “I’d lost consciousness and, when I woke, I was on the floor where I fell. He was sound asleep in bed.”

I chewed on my nail, tears wetting my cheeks as I struggled with the memory. It's taken me so long to heal from that day. “So I pulled myself up, grabbed my pistol and shot him.” I lifted my head, wiped the tears from my cheeks, and looked him in the eyes. It took an incredible amount of courage to walk out my door, even though I’d killed him. “I packed up my belongings as quickly as possible and left. When I arrived here, Walter took me in and set me up with Frank the vet here. Turns out, I rode the bus for forty-eight hours with three broken ribs and a Grade 2 Concussion.”

I looked back out the window. “So to answer your question… No. I’m no longer married.”

My heart beat heavilyagainst my chest as I imagined this man turning a hand on her. If she hadn’t done the job already, I would have tracked him down and made him suffer. No one puts a finger on her. No one besides me. My mind conjured images of her standing over him, gun in hand and squeezing the trigger.

I knew there was a reason my darkness pulled her to me.

Maybe it was because she had the potential to be just as black inside as I was.

Maybe because she already was.

Or maybe because we shared a past we didn’t yet realize.

I swallowed the violence that coursed through my veins, itching for release. “Good for you.” She tore her gaze from the window and stared at me with wide-eyes. “He’ll never draw these from you again.” I drew my thumb over her cheeks, wiping up the tears that fell, then licked her salty pain from my finger. “He’s lucky you got to him first.” She rested her elbow on the windowsill, her fingers pinching her lips together, fidgeting as I pulled back onto the road. “What took you so long to leave him?”

She looked down at the floor, then sucked in a breath. “I didn’t have a choice.” Her arm fell into her lap. “It was a country-style arranged wedding. The abuse began shortly after our vows, and I tried to tell my Mom and Step-dad. They said I was overreacting and, since there weren’t bruises, they really didn’t believe me. I had nowhere to go. No money. No car. He controlled it all.”

“What about the police?” Not that I ever turned to them. Even when I sat at Sheriff Kennedy’s table most nights, I never spoke a word about Ma's abuse.

She scoffed. “His brother is the beloved mayor of our town, and about the most ruthless criminal I know to hold office. Greenville has a reputation about it, and I wasn’t about to disappear because I spoke poorly of Billy.”

“But you killed him even with the risk?”

“That’s why I left instead of facing him. I’d never get a fair trial or even make it to one.” She paused, then pointed to a building ahead. “It’s right there.”

Finding the closest parking space by the laundromat door, I got out of the truck and placed my hands against the vehicle, squeezing the handle as I seethed with emotions I needed to control. If what she said was true, there was no way her brother-in-law would let it go. If I were him, I would’ve hunted her down to the ends of the earth to exact my revenge.

She already had someone watching her, trying to take her. Who’s saying it wasn’t him?

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