Page 32 of Fractured Loyalties
Before I have any chance to think about it further, the door is ripped open, and a blast of cold air slaps me across the face. Ivy climbs into the seat, red in the face. She’s hugging her backpack to her chest as if it’s some kind of shield.
I hate to break it to her, butnothingcan protect her from me. Especially not after I got to feel her tight little cunt for the firsttime. My cock is already throbbing, just at the first whiff of her shitty perfume.
“Good morning, Ivy,” I hum, leaning back against my seat and turning my head toward her. I smile at her, but I’m pretty sure it’s closer to just baring my fangs.
She swallows audibly, tucking a stray lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. It takes her a few beats to find her voice, but when she does, her entire face darkens behind her perfectly airbrushed makeup. “You’re disgusting.”
I sigh heavily. “And you’re still a corrupted little lamb underneath all that paint on your face, baby. You’re just in denial.”
“Don’t call me baby,” she seethes, not even reaching for the seatbelt as I punch the gas of the car, catapulting us out of the circular drive and towards the school. “What you did… What you did was so…wrong.”
“You didn’t seem to think so when you were coming all over my cock,” I say the words sweetly, shrugging my shoulders.
“You’re mybrother,” she snaps.
I can’t stop myself from laughing. “Oh, Ivy,” I glance over at her, meeting her angry little glare. “You arenotmy sister. You’re just Irena’s daughter, and I’m fairly certain that doesn’t count.”
She doesn’t respond. Instead, she shifts her backpack higher and, for the next two miles, her silence is almost a physical thing, radiating off her skin and into the cab of the car as if it were a toxin.
I try to enjoy it, honestly. My father always said there’s nothing quite like the aftertaste of a woman’s hate.
But I have to admit, it doesn’t quite settle all that well with me.
Still, I can’t keep my eyes off her. The morning sun shines through the windows and lights up her face. Her jaw is clenchedtightly enough to break her teeth. Her little fists are white-knuckled on the nylon straps of her bag…
But there’s something else there. Somethingbeneathall that.
“You know, you could just talk about it instead of bottling it all up,” I say, my voice coming outwaysofter than I intended. I’m almost embarrassed as she turns to me.
Then, she starts to cry.
Oh shit. This isnotthe kind of crying I put up with.
I’m not equipped for this. Not the wet streaks running down her face or the way her voice comes out shredded as she tries to apologize. I glance over, expecting the sort of controlled drama I’m used to—hysterics with an audience, crocodile tears, the wholepoor meroutine. But… this is not that.
Ivy’s shoulders are shaking too hard for her to be pretending, and her backpack is balled under her jaw as if a life preserver. She’s either going to burst an aneurysm or cry herself out before we even make it through the next intersection.
I start to tell her to knock it the fuck off, but the words crack before they leave my throat. I forget, sometimes, how soft real grief is until someone shoves it in my face.
“I miss him so much,” Ivy sobs, fresh tears streaking her perfectly done-up mascara. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be in this shit hole.”
Well, damn. This is complicated.
I pull off into a random parking lot and put the SUV in park, facing the street. She’s probably going to be late for school now, but I don’t really know what else to do at this point. I can’t send her into Woods’ Private looking like this. She’d be slaughtered. And I’m the only one who gets to do that to her.
“Why did you stop?” Ivy sniffles as she presses herself into the corner of the seat and the door, putting as much distance as she can between us.
It actually hurts something in my chest… But maybe that’s just my still-healing ribs.
“Look,” I rake my fingers through my hair, disheveling the slick back job I did this morning. I stupidly reach for her, and she lets me leave my hand on her knee. “You need… You need to get your shit together. It’ll get easier.”
Her jaw drops, and I realize she’s taken itallwrong. “Are you fucking kidding me? After what we did?” Fresh tears slip down her cheeks.
I purse my lips, desperate to make her feel better. “I get it, I’m the villain here. That’s fine, but also… I think we… I think we might be all we have.” I say the words plainly, and honestly, I wince a little at the pain on her face. I let out a sharp breath.
That’s when I realize that Iwanther to feel better. And I’m fucking it up.
“Ivy,” I try again, closing my eyes for a split second. “I’m not sure if you know this… but… I lost my mother, too.” I open them then, meeting her gaze.
