Page 42 of Volatile

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Chapter Eleven

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Ivy stuck her key inthe door, her head a bubble of fog. She was trying to be as quiet as possible so she didn’t wake Lily. She couldn’t get over the fact that it was after fucking midnight? She’d lost hours of her life and was scrambling to find them.

She slowly pushed the door open, noting the kitchen light on. Hopefully Lily had forgotten to turn it off. She didn’t know if she’d be able to explain anything, even if her sister cared to ask why she was sneaking in so late.

Slipping off her shoes and placing them quietly on the mat, she took that moment to regroup. She was exhausted but didn’t know if she could silence her mind long enough to fall asleep. She had to be at the flower shop in six hours because she’d promised Cherise she would open but honestly didn’t know if she could do it. Scrubbing her hands over her face, she forced herself to get her shit together. She’d just have to switch to autopilot and get through the day like everyone else.

But what the hell had happened earlier? No sense was coming to her. Did Jonathan use her again? If so, he had a crazy way of showing it. She was the only one who got something out of it. And fuck did she ever. Unless she took matters into her own hands, she was lucky if she had an orgasm a month. Compare that to what she’d just experienced... and to add to the confusion, he didn’t even try to have sex with her.

Ivy crept down the hallway. Her body was sated, but her brain was a slush pit. She’d lost count of how many times she came. But what messed with her the most was the way he’d given her those orgasms—so gently it was vicious. It wasn’t fervent like the first time, but it was almost more intense. She felt like he was slowly ripping her apart. She knew violence when she saw it, but she couldn’t classify what Jonathan did to her. How he was able to shred her so softly without her realizing it. Like delicately pulling a string off a sweater little by little until nothing was left but a disheveled heap. Gentle actions, disastrous results.

She didn’t know how exactly, but she was sure she wasn’t the same. She was screwed.

Ivy stopped short when she saw Lily sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal, open textbook beside her. Shit.

“You’re up late,” Ivy said, figuring that the best thing would be not to make a big deal out of what was essentially worthy of a major freak-out.

“I’m studying.” Lily flicked her eyes up, stuffing a spoon into her mouth. “And you said you’d be home early.”

Ivy went to the sink and pulled a glass out of the cupboard. “I was planning to be, but things ran later than expected.”

That was the honest truth. She thought they’d just have dinner and talk. Just because she was crazy attracted to him didn’t mean she was looking for a racy repeat, and she assumed he felt the same.

So what the hell happened then?That was the magic question. Ivy turned on the faucet and filled her glass. As soon as she’d been lucid enough to leave, she had, and quickly. He’d tried to get her to stay longer, said something about needing more aftercare, but she had refused to hear it. Aftercare—what? Like for a child? He wasn’t her damn babysitter. Besides, if she would’ve stayed later, she probably would have crashed out until morning. This was bad enough.

“Ivy?” She snapped her head around. “What is wrong with you?” Lily asked. “I called your name like three times.”

“Oh sorry. Just tired, I guess.”

“Did you not tell me you’d be home late because you wanted to make sure I’d be here?”

“What? No. I didn’t lie to you on purpose. What I said was the truth. My night went later than expected.”

Lily shrugged, looking down at her book and flipping a page. “Oh my God.” She jerked her head back up. “You’re back with Wes, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.”

Like that’d be the worst thing in the world? At least it’d be sensible. Sensible and... dull. No, she’d have a hard time going back to him now that she’d received a taste of what else was possible. Wes hadn’t even fought for her when she told him it was over. Just kissed her on the cheek, accepting it without question before walking away. Maybe he’d been expecting it.

Lily continued glaring at her like she was a pathological liar. When had things deteriorated so badly between them? Ivy sighed and downed the rest of her water. When Lily decided to get mixed up in a dangerous lifestyle and make excuses for it, that’s when.

“I was having dinner with a friend, and we lost track of time. Is that so hard to believe?”

Ivy turned around, setting her glass in the sink. She prayed she wouldn’t ask which friend because one little white lie was enough for the evening. She didn’t consider Jonathan a friend; she didn’t know what to consider him.

“I’m going to bed,” Ivy said. “I need to be to work early. Try not to stay up too late.”

“Yes, Mother.”

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