Page 63 of Corrupting Ivy

“Why did you decide to come here?”

“I told you. I thought you needed help. And planning this out was too damn difficult over the phone, plus researching all these people.”

Ivy stood with her back to us, talking to two women sitting next to Coen, that damned cashier intent on taking her out.

I took the phone from his hands and tucked it away for safekeeping. “Did you find anything out yet?”

“Yeah. The mayor is clean on paper. But for a town so small, there sure are a lot of missing persons reports.” Hmm. She said she didn’t want to go to the cops because she’d disappear.

“Small towns are about as corrupt as you can find anywhere. I’d say they are worse than big government.” We had our own issues of corruption in this town. The Lucky Y Ranch at the head of it all and no one said a word about it. “Anything on his brother?”

“Nope. Run of the mill man. But I find it fascinating you’re running around with a married woman. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

I cleared my throat and took a sip of my scotch. Why didn’t I think about him seeing that when I asked him to dig? “Special circumstances.”

“Must be a special pussy for you to dive into claimed territory.”

He had no idea.

It was near closing time. The bar was still lively with a few stragglers. Ivy still hadn’t come back around this way. Or if she did, I didn’t notice. Jake had brought out his tablet, showing me the blueprints I’d been working on since I’d been here.

We had a Russian buyer that required special locations designed for absolute privacy and safety. I didn’t like dealing with the Russians. They were hotheaded and, when offended, resorted to violence as their first option.

Sacha Primack was a thirty-five-year-old Russian Oligarch that held more power in the Bratva without being an actual part of the Bratva. He, for some reason, required fifty kilos of pure cocaine. And coming in at twenty-five-thousand-dollars a kilo, that was a three-million-dollar deal, including our fee. A deal that I had to find a destination for while mitigating potential murder charges and keeping Ivy close.

But, now that I’d finally gotten the location of Doug’s decayed body part out of the way, I could focus on my work.

It didn’t take long for her to tell me she’d hidden his foot under her floorboards beside her bed. She wanted to keep him close—said she felt guilty for telling me to kill him. That made me smile.

What is with people and dead body parts?

But now, she had another death on her conscience. Patrick. Even if I hadn’t tortured him to get my answer, I would have killed him, regardless. She doesn’t deserve happiness, and I refuse to have people in her life that care.

I made her watch as I snapped his neck, then warned her never to let another person get close to her again. She’d turned so ashen I thought she’d pass out, but she didn’t. It felt good to have her terrified of me. The tables have turned, and it couldn’t be more satisfying.

After a little bleach-water and scrubbing, I’d destroyed any evidence a murder had taken place. I took Patrick’s body, sans teeth, and Doug’s foot down to the old well we used to have attached to the property until it dried up, then dumped them down there with a bucket of gasoline and set it ablaze. When I worked with the Sabinas Cartel as a teen, this was their preferred way of disappearing people. There were bodies all over Mexico contaminating wells.

It took longer than expected for the remains to burn to a crisp, but once the smoke settled, I watered it down, cleaned up, and dashed back to Ivy.

Red stained my vision when I saw her on the stairs with Jake. I was ready to burn another body until I noticed Jake standing there. The murderous demon inside of me settled. And then I saw her luscious thighs in those shorts, and all thoughts vanished except the ones telling me to take her on the stairs.

Remy closed up the bar tonight, for the first time since I’d been here. A man with dirty blue jeans and unkempt hair stumbled out of the door, leaving us as the only people left here.

“Are we going to discuss how she looks just like Charity?”

I spun my gaze back to Jake, taking them off the door to the side of me. “No, she doesn’t.”

Charity was like a sibling I didn’t want but enjoyed having around. There was no attraction between us, and it never even crossed my mind.

“She does. It’s uncanny.”

“Spit it out, Jake.”

“I simply think it's interesting.”

“What?”

“You go from spending time with her to now picking up this girl who looks just like her.”

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