Page 35 of Thorns of Malice

Dax looks down and takes a deep breath.

I look toward the stage, knowing he and Dyer are staring at me. And it's funny. I never realized it in the past, but they're practically drooling. It gives me more confidence, a feeling of power I've never known.

It almost makes me feel sorry for Dax.

Almost.

Then I remind myself of everything he's done.

"Ivy?" I hear Avery slur from behind me.

My insides quiver, and I slowly swivel to face her.

She looks shocked to see me. "Ivy? Oh my God. Ivy, is that you?" She puts her hand on my shoulder.

"Go away," Dax orders her.

I look up.

She's drunk, and I'm not used to seeing Avery past a buzzed state. Her eyes are red, and the scent of stale tequila hangs around her.

"Jesus, Avery. You might want to lay off the booze," Dyer states under his breath.

She doesn't tear her gaze off mine. "Ivy, you're back."

I lift my chin and square my shoulders, turning more toward her. "I am."

She opens her mouth, and I put my hand on her arm.

Dax shifts in his seat.

I ask, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, w-why wouldn't I b-be okay?" she stutters and wobbles.

Dyer puts his hand on her hip. "Avery, you're drunk. You need to sit down."

She snaps her head toward him. "I don't need to sit down. I don't need you to tell me what to do. You're a little peon. Remember that."

Dyer's face hardens.

Horror fills me, but also amusement. This is the Avery I know.

She turns back to me and softens her voice. "Where have you been all these years, Ivy?"

"Oh, you know, here and there," I reply.

"Well, besides Georgia," Avery adds.

My head rears back in shock and my mouth goes dry.

How did she know I was in Georgia?

She leans into my ear and says louder than I believe she intends, "You didn't think I'd forget about you all these years, did you? I looked you up. I wanted to come find you. I didn't think you wanted me to."

Dax puts his arm between Avery and me. "Get away from her. You're drunk." He pushes her away.

"Don't you?—"

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