Page 6 of Dirty Behavior

Dante

Ivy's face scrunched up, her brows dipping in as she groaned. Her lips were moving in soundless words, hands clenching tight as she unknowingly lifted them up to protect herself. Brushing the hair from her face, I watched Ivy sleep in restlessness.

She did that almost every night while her dreams gave way to bad memories, and she had no way to fight them off. It made me angry to know that whatever he had done to her still gripped the one spot I couldn't reach and had no control over.

I hated it, I hated watching the turmoil her body would go through, knowing there was nothing I could do to turn it off.

She was so beautiful, even with her crinkled brows and the deep lines that cradled her forehead when she got upset. It didn't matter what she was doing, her body seeped this magnetic potion that kept my eyes locked on her.

While she slept, I was still her protector, even though it was only figments of her imagination playing a cruel joke on her. If she woke up, I wanted her to see that I was still there watching, keeping her safe.

I couldn't sleep anyway. My lids never closed completely. I felt like a feral dog sleeping with one eye open, my ears perked listening, body always ready to react. I was in permanent attack mode, ready to strike at any threat that came our way.

But none of that mattered, I didn't give a shit about myself. All that I gave a damn about was making sure nothing ever happened to Ivy.

The bruises had started to fade away, her lips were no longer swelled and cracked from taking the butt of a gun to her face. More and more each day she slowly began to resemble the woman I had met in that restaurant.

Back then I couldn't see her stained skin and harsh punishments. On the outside she was dressed with as much sparkle as a Fabergé egg, but under her protective shell she was cracked and shattered beyond repair.

If I hadn't been so taken by her beauty and allowed myself to see the discoloration and scars, I'd like to think I would have done things differently. But since a veil had strung itself across my gaze, I couldn't see it. I'll never forgive myself for not recognizing her pain.

I've tried to make up for it by helping her every day, and I wouldn't give up on putting her pieces back together. Because I owed her that. She had suffered for far too long at the hands of some asshole, and she never deserved one second of it.

But I was too late, there was one thing she still couldn't shed; the asshole who held her on his leash, Remo.

By day, I felt like I had her, every piece of her was with me. The fear she had lived in seemed to disappear, and I worked hard to try and help her forget it all. But at night I had no control over it.

I wanted to jump inside her mind and rescue her. If there was a way for me to pull that fucking asshole out of her brain, I would. I never wanted her to fear anything else ever again.

That was where I focused all of my thoughts, it was the most important thing for me to do.

And I was going to finish this.

Remo wasn't going to own any part of her; physical or mental—not when I was done with him.

Dragging my finger down the bridge of her nose, I kissed her forehead and whispered. “Ivy, wake up, it's time to go.”

Moaning softy, she rolled to her side, facing away from me. “Right now? Can't we stay a little bit longer?” Her body relaxed as she left her dream and woke to reality. She was safe, here with me.

That was the best part of watching her wake up. To see her tensed features draw up into a smile when she finally opened her eyes to me, it made all of this worth while.

She didn't like talking about all the horrible things he had done to her. I tried to get her to let me in, to spill her darkest secrets with the hope it would help ease her mind to let it out.

Ivy refused to go into detail, she told me that it was no different then her not knowing about my past. And she was probably right. I wouldn't tell her about the lives I stole or the damage I'd caused because I was afraid she'd look at me differently.

Did she think that if I knew what she went through it would change what I felt?

She was the angel that crawled into my heart and opened it up.

Nothing would change that.

Ivy would always be my angel.

But there was the chance that if I knew what she went through, I'd have a hard time letting it go even after Remo was gone.

Would I go into permanent protector mode, afraid to let her out of my sight?

There are some things you could never un-hear, no matter how hard you tried. The scars she carried were enough of a reminder to how bad things had been for her.

---