Page 147 of Thorns of Malice

My stomach dives. "What about them?"

"How long have you had those?"

I answer her honestly. "Two days."

She shifts in her seat. "And nothing's fabricated, correct?"

I look at her from the corner of my eye. "No, Ivy. I would never do that. Surely, you don't think I would do that after everything we've been through?" I ask, then focus back on the road, barely seeing past the blanket of white.

She sighs as if in relief. "Okay. Well, thank you for sharing them with me. What do the other documents in the safe say?"

I shake my head. "Nothing more important than what you saw, just more physicals, more in-depth information with medical terms about his heart. It's all yours to read whenever you want it. I didn't send it because I didn't want to overwhelm you. Was that not enough?" I question, but my real question lingers in the air with the silence.

Does she believe I didn't kill her father?

She remains silent for a few moments, the only noise the wipers scraping the ice on the windshield.

My nerves skyrocket. My gut churns. I cautiously ask, "Do you still think I was the reason your father had a heart attack?"

She slowly inhales and exhales, then puts her hand on my thigh.

Tingles race to my erection. I clench my jaw, stopping myself from pulling over and doing indecent things with her on the side of the road.

She answers, "No, I don't. I'm sorry I accused you."

Relief washes over me. I release the wheel with one of my hands and place it on top of hers. I declare, "It's okay. I understand why you did."

"You do?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry your father's dead. I wish he hadn't been watching me on television when it happened. I can't imagine how horrible it was for you."

Tension fills the air.

"Ivy—"

"Thanks for your apology. Let's change the subject. I'd prefer not to cry all night," she admits.

My heart hurts over her grief. I hate I have a part in it. So I say, "Okay, gorgeous," and squeeze her hand, then gripthe wheel with both hands again when the SUV slips on the pavement. I regain control and turn right on the next road.

She adds, "Thanks again for the gifts today. It was... Well, it was very Dax of you."

I chuckle. "Very Dax of me?"

"Yeah. Over the top."

"Is that a bad thing?" I question.

She takes a moment, then admits, "No, it's fun to be spoiled. I always liked that about you. Maybe I shouldn't admit that, but it's true."

I shake my head, declaring, "No, baby girl, you should admit it. And I'm glad you enjoy it. I promise you, I'm going to do more of it."

She softly laughs. "You're insane, Dax."

"Maybe," I agree, then pull up on the side of the pavement next to the newest restaurant in town.

Whore-red, gold, and bling mimicking the design of her necklace blur through the snow across the building. The logo could be sharper, but it's still recognizable through the flakes.

The hairs on my neck rise as I wait for her reaction.

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