Page 135 of Seeds of Malice

Throughout it all, I've recorded her. Every statement, every sound, every expression on her face—it's all been captured.

I want more.

Normally, I'd be semi-bored by now. Yet, I'm the farthest thing from it. My addiction to Ivy has only grown stronger, my curiosity for how she'll respond to my next move never dimming.

I sigh. "I don't want to go to school without you. Tell your father about us, and I'll pick you up."

"Dax, you know it's not that easy. I can't. And you promised me that you'd give me a few days so I can figure out how to talk to him," she reminds me.

I stare out the window and shake my head, pissed that I agreed to let her have a few days. She needs to be here with me.

I point out, "You're an adult. Tell him, then move in with me."

Silence fills the line.

The hairs on my arms rise.

What am I even saying?

She softly asks, "You want to live with me?"

I don't even consider what I'm saying. She's only been gone an hour, and I feel off balance. "Yes. I need you here with me. I miss you."

Her voice is softer when she admits, "I miss you too."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then tell your father and pack your bags."

She sighs. "Dax, I can't right now. Give me the time you promised."

I close my eyes and lean against the wall.

She begs, "Please. I love you. I don't want to be without you either. I promise you I'll tell him this week like we discussed."

Play the game.

I tug my hair, not used to not getting my own way and hating it. I stare at the outline of her cottage. The day's turning into night, and the moon is barely visible.

"Okay, Ivy. But, baby girl, you have to tell him."

"I will," she firmly states.

I stay quiet.

She adds, "I have to go. I'll talk to you later. I love you."

I don't give her the satisfaction of telling her I love her. I've only done it once, and every time she tells me, I avoid saying it. It's clear she wants me to say it back. She's desperate for it. I see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. But I'm going to keep her that way, willing to do anything to appease me, just to hopefully hear those words.

Besides, I don't tell girls I love them. I'm not sure why the fuck I said it a week ago anyway.

I was drunk.

No, I wasn't.

Instead, I reply, "Get some rest." I hang up and tear my eyes off her cottage.

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