Page 88 of Corrupting Ivy

I stood from my pity party of emotions, wiped the tears from my face, only to be replaced with rain and mud, then took a step. Each flexing muscle burned with searing fire. But before I could convince myself to stop, red taillights brightened the surrounding trees in the distance.

A newfound hope warmed me and urged me to run.

My feet hit the road again, pacing myself like I would a marathon, my feet slipping and sliding on the clay mud.

I just needed them to see me, to know I’m here.

“I’m here. Help me.”Please hear me.

The pain in my lungs grew to a new level, as though a knife were in my ribcage. I pressed harder, limping as I ran, until the taillights to my left disappeared into the distance, taking my hope with them. They didn’t know I was here, yet I couldn’t help but feel abandoned, forgotten.

I slowed to a walk when I hit a fork in the road. Leaning against the tree, I tried to catch my breath, but all I wanted to do was sleep. My heavy lids bobbed, my heart raced, I couldn’t catch enough air until headlights to my right beamed down the road… heading this direction.

“God, this rain isloud,” Jake said, squinting out of the windshield, past the heavy rain and windshield wipers. “You sure you don’t want to check out the fire? I mean, it wouldn’t hurt.”

I glanced at him. “I’m telling you all it is—”

“Tonk, watch out. Stop.”

I slammed on the brakes, sliding to a stop in the mud, towards a woman on her knees in the middle of the road. Her hair soggy, her dress dripping with mud, rain, and… blood.

“Jesus.”

“What the fuck?” Jake said, his hand on the dash, leaning forward to see.

It was Ivy.

MyIvy.

She fell forward, landing face-first into the mud as if the reaper flew from my tattooed back and snatched the life from her body right before my eyes.

My heart gave out as I fled from the truck, slipping to my knees in the mud. I rushed to her still body on my hands and knees, my headlights illuminating her bloody frame. I turned her over, despite the terror of what I’d find. “Oh, Ivy.”

Blood seeped from her nose and dozens of gaping wounds across her body. Her face was pale and expressionless.

An anguished cry escaped me as I looked her over, waiting for her chest to rise with the breath of life.

“The ambulance is on its way,” Jake said.

I pulled her to my chest, engulfing her in my arms, and held her. If there was ever a want for someone to comfort me, touch me, it would be at this moment now. I needed her to tell me she was okay.

The sound of my own beating heart drowned out the surrounding noise. And then, as though the reaper returned her to me, her chest rose against mine. “Randall?”

Four Days Later

The doctors and nurseshad swarmed me, ripped me from Randall’s arms, and surrounded me with empty coldness and gentle strangers.

They’d pawed at me, stripped me, and asked a million and one questions, all of which I had answered with a numb brain. I’d just wanted to sleep—to close my eyes and dream of everything that made this better. Then they’d shot me full of painkillers, which seemed unnecessary, considering I couldn’t feel anything but the cold.

They’d put me to sleep, and when I’d woken up, Randall was at my bedside, which was where he’s stayed, not allowing anyone but his friend, Jake, to enter the room. Aside from the police and doctors, I haven’t spoken to a single soul, thanks to Randall.

I didn’t want to speak to anyone.

I didn’t want to hear their sympathies.

I didn’t want to see their fake smiles.

I just wanted Randall here beside me.

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