Page 85 of Thorns of Malice

I chuckle, and it gets louder and louder. I can't contain myself as he screams obscenities at me. I finally gain control of myself and state, "Have a nice life, Dyer. I hope you get to keep your freedom." I hang up, thinking it would be awesome if he, Bobby, and Avery were all locked up in the same cell.

There's no way he's walking away from this. The university will have more lawsuits against it than it knows what to do with. I'll conveniently come in and help clean up the mess just to maintain my power.

But I'll never help Dyer again. He's done. He'll never have another teaching job in this country. His pension and everything he's saved will go down the drain from lawsuits. It's all going to be gone. And based on the incriminating evidence on the video, it won't be long before he's in handcuffs.

My phone beeps with another message.

Bobby: You did it, didn't you?

Bobby: You fucking bastard.

Me: What are you referring to?

Bobby: You know damn well what you did. Take that fucking down, now.

Another message pops in.

Avery: What the fuck, Dax?

I reply to her.

Me: What did I do now?

My phone continues to blow up with messages from her and Bobby. I read the messages, no longer replying, full of giddiness.

I spin my chair, cross my ankle over my knee, and press the pads of my fingers together, staring at the water, suddenly hopeful.

The end is near. Crimes of the past will haunt people for the rest of their lives. Then Ivy and I will be free. We can move forward.

I'll take down anyone who ever hurt her, and somehow, I'm going to make up for what I've done to her.

I'm going to enjoy every minute of watching everyone go up in flames.

15

Ivy

My insides quiver. I turn the phone off so Dax can't contact me anymore.

What am I doing here?

I need to leave. But as much as I tell myself to go, I can't move. I'm paralyzed, staring at silver-covered plates, Dax's note with two sets of keys, and a credit card.

He thinks he can buy me.

Same old Dax.

He's trying to be kind to me.

No, this is another form of his control.

Don't fall for it.

My eyes dart to the corner. Seducing Ivy flowers fill the trash can. I study them, blinking until they become blurry.

Dad created those flowers.

Why did I toss them in the garbage?

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