Falling to Pieces (17 page)

“Ivy!” I call out.

Her head snaps up, surprise evident on her face. When she brushes a finger under her eye, I notice that her face is wet. Has she been crying? I rush toward her. “Ives, what’s wrong?”

She sniffs, shaking her head.  “Nothing. Just darn allergies.” Popping her trunk, she drops a cardboard box into it. There are already several more wedged inside
the tight confines.

“C’mon, Ives, what’s going on?”

She glances up at me, her vulnerable expression breaking me open. “My grandpa’s moving in with my mom. I’m helping him get his stuff out. It’s just an emotional day, that’s all.”

“He’s gotten that sick, huh?”

She nods, and I reach out to touch her face. Her skin is smooth against my fingers, and it feels so good. “I’m really sorry, Ives.”

She pulls away, and all I want to do is draw her back to me. I’d do anything to take away that sad look on her face. “It’ll be fine.”

“It’s okay to be sad,” I say.

A small smile flickers on her face. “You sound like Billie.”

“Smart girl.” I smile.

“You two are going out tonight, right?” Her eyes cloud over when she says it.

My stomach knots. “Not if you don’t want us to. I can stay here and help you if you want.”

She pauses for a moment
, and I think she’ll take me up on my offer. My heart pounds as I await her response. “No, you should go have fun. This isn’t your responsibility.”

I step toward Ivy and grab her arm.
I have a strong urge to bend down and catch her mouth in mine, but I don’t. “When are you going to get it, Ives? I want to help you. Why can’t you let me in?”

I can see in Ivy’s eyes that she’s wrestling with it. For one second it seems that she might lo
wer her guard, but then her expression darkens and I know she’s made her decision. “This is just something I need to do alone. Have fun with Billie tonight.”

Nodding, I release her arm. I can’t keep pushing myself on her. It seems that when I do it only builds more of a wedge between us. “Okay. But promise you’ll call if you need me.”

Pressing her lips together, she gives a subtle bob of her head. I run my finger over her cheek before walking back toward my bike. When I speed away, I glance behind and see Ivy making her way back toward her grandpa’s apartment. If only she could let me in. If only she didn’t need to deal with everything on her own.

“Ready to go?” I ask Billie when I show up at her apartment.

She gives me a funny grin. “Why are you really here, Asher?”

I pause, knitting my eyebrows together. “To take you for a ride, remember?”

“No, I know that.” She walks away from the front door, and I take it as an invitation to follow her. “I just can’t figure out why.”

Closing the door behind me, I step toward her. “Because I thought you wanted to.” My gaze lands on Ivy’s jacket strewn across the table. Her floral scent lingers in the air, making my heart skip a beat. I wish she was here right now. I wish she had been the one to invite me over tonight.

Billie whirls around toward me. “Asher, you and I both know the only person in this apartment you’re interested in taking out is Ivy.”

“That’s not true. I had a lot of fun with you the other night.”

Billie looks at me with a challenging gleam in her eyes. “Prove it.”

Unsure of what she means, I take a small step backward.

“If you want to be with me and not Ivy, then you won’t mind me doing this.” Before I can react at all, she grabs my waist and pulls me to her. My heart races as she presses her chest against mine. I don’t want to shove her away, but panic rings out in my mind. What if Ivy walks in right now? The last thing I want is for her to think I’m into her friend. That will ruin any chance I ever had with her. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Billie’s face comes closer
, and I can’t take it anymore. I turn away. “I’m sorry, Billie.”

I expect her to get upset
, but she just laughs, allowing her arms to fall to the side. “That’s what I thought. You are totally into Ivy.”

“That’s what you were trying to prove?” Girls are so confusing.

She walks away from me, grinning like she just solved some exciting mystery. “I just don’t get you two. Why can’t you just admit you like each other?  It’s totally obvious, and kind of annoying, actually.” She plops down on the couch.

I follow her, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch. “Okay, fine, you got me. But I don’t think it’s the same for Ivy. She’s made it pretty clear where we stand.”

“Ivy’s just going through a lot.” Billie intertwines her fingers in her lap.

“Do you know what happened between us?”

She nods slowly.

I lean forward expectantly, my heart picking up speed. “Do
you know the whole story, Billie?”

“No, I only know bits and pieces. She’s never told me all of it.”

“Can you tell me what you do know?”

Billie shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Asher, but it’s not my story to tell.”

I groan, lowering my head into my hands. “You know, Ivy moved here shortly after her dad died. When I met her there was this sadness in her eyes that I’d never seen in anyone before.  I knew immediately that she had endured a kind of pain I’d never understand, but the longer we hung out, the more that sadness lifted. Then that night when I saw those bruises, the sadness was back. I wanted to hurt anyone who had caused her pain again. I always knew I couldn’t bring her dad back, but this was something I could do for her. I could avenge her pain.”

Billie’s hand rests on my shoulder. “You’re a good friend to her. You did what you thought was right. Don’t let anyone take that from you.”

I lift my head. “But what I did was wrong. And Cam wasn’t even the person who hurt her. Do you know who did?”

Billie bites her lip. “No, she’s never told me. I mean, I have my suspicions, but I’m not sure.”

I raise an eyebrow, but I can tell she won’t share it with me. “It makes me sad that she can’t talk to anyone about this. I hate how she carries everything alone. I mean, it’s like when I saw her tonight and she wouldn’t let me help her.”

Billie stiffens. “Wait. You saw her tonight? At work?”

“No, she was at her grandpa’s apartment helping him move.”

“Shit,” Billie mutters, and I’m surprised at her reaction.
She reaches for her cell and types something in with quick fingers.

“What?” I ask, feeling uneasy.

“I forgot that was tonight. I wanted to help her,” she mumbles while still typing on her phone. “I mean, it’s nighttime and Frank is probably there, so I wanted to be there too.”

I freeze.
Frank. Her stepdad.
I picture his shaggy brown hair and the flannel shirts he wears. Ivy’s words come back to me.
Awhile.
She said it had been happening for awhile. And I remember the night she got caught after we snuck out for that concert. I didn’t see her for a whole month and when I did, she never wanted to go swimming. Anytime I went to her house she seemed skittish around Frank, but I just thought it was because he was a jerk. Why hadn’t I figured it out sooner?

“It’s Frank, isn’t it? He’s the one who hurt her?”

Billie’s eyes lock with mine, confirming my fears. I start to stand, but Billie pushes me back down. “She’s never actually said it was him. I just think it was. But you can’t go over there and do anything. What if I’m wrong? She won’t forgive you a second time, Asher.”

I jerk her hand free. “But I have to do something. What if he hurts her again? I can’t let her be there alone.”

Billie glances back down at her phone. “She’s not responding to my texts.”

“That’s it. I’m going over.”

“Fine.” Billie sighs. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t.”

19

Ivy

I knock on Mom’s door with my hand while pressing a box against my chest. It’s heavy, and I sag against the weight of it unsure if I’ll be able to hold it much longer. The heat is making sweat ring my armpits and slide down my shoulder blades. I blow out a breath and lean my head down to wipe my forehead on my shoulder. When Mom doesn’t answer, I bang the door with my foot. A second later the door swings open, and I step inside without looking up. I just need to put down the box. I’m pretty sure by the weight of it that this is a box filled with books. Huffing, I drop it on the floor and stand up, wiping my hands on my jean shorts.

My heart arrests at the sight of him. “Oh, Frank. I didn’t know you were here. I only saw Mom’s car out front.”

“She took my truck to your grandpa’s to pick up more stuff.”

He’s standing too close
, and I take in the alcohol on his breath. I swallow hard and skirt around him. “I was just there. I guess I must’ve missed her.”

Frank runs a hand over his rumpled brown hair. He’s wearing his regular flannel shirt and torn jeans. He’s a plumber
, and his hands seem to always be black and greasy. I picture them on me, and it turns my stomach. “I’m not gonna hurt you, princess. You can move away from the wall.” He leans in, breathing beer and sweat into my face. “Unless you want me to.”

My heart slams against my ribcage. “Just back off, Frank.”

He laughs gruffly and staggers away. I heave a sigh, clutching my chest as he retreats. Hopefully he’ll leave me alone long enough to get the rest of the boxes inside. When I head back outside, I wonder for the millionth time what my mom ever saw in him. He’s nothing like my dad. Just the thought of Dad causes a lump to rise in my throat. Dad was good looking and kind, and his smile made me feel like everything was right in the world. What I wouldn’t give to see that smile again. Only I never will, and that kind of thinking doesn’t help me. I shake away the thoughts, and head back to my car. After hoisting out the next box, I lug it toward the house. Before stepping back inside I momentarily wish I’d taken Asher up on his offer. I would feel a lot safer if I had him with me. Then I realize that would be a bad idea. I don’t want him here with Frank and Mom. The last thing I want him to witness is this dysfunctional family dynamic. It’s the reason I rarely ever invited him over when we were younger.

I step into the house and
, thankfully, Frank is nowhere in sight. So I walk to the corner of the family room and set down the box. When I turn back around I walk straight into Frank’s chest. A tiny shriek escapes from my lips, and I cover my mouth with my hand.

“It’s alright
, sugar.” His arms come around me, and I shove him backward.

“Well, well, isn’t this cozy?” Mom’s voice rings out
, and I freeze, fear snaking around my heart.

Frank flashes me an apologetic look before slinking away. It’s like déjà vu
, and it makes me sick. Mom comes at me, and I cower. “You never change, you know that? No matter how many chances I give you.”

I hug myself, covering my chest with my hands. Frank sneaks out of the room.
Coward.

“I just got back from your grandpa’s and he was all worried about poor, sad Ivy. He’s the one sick and you have him worrying about you, you selfish girl.” Her eyes are so dark they look black to me.

I move away from her, my back hitting the wall. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I love Grandpa. I wasn’t trying to make it about me.”

“Of course you weren’t. You’re sweet little Ivy. Every guy that meets you thinks the sun rises and sets with you. Your dad thought that and your grandpa thinks that.
Hell, even Frank can’t keep his hands off you. But I know the truth, Ivy. I know what a manipulative little tramp you are.”

My whole body trembles, and my eyes dart to Mom’s hands. I know it’s only a matter of time
before she strikes me, and I steel myself for what’s to come. In some ways I can’t wait. Her hands do less damage then her words do.

“I’m s-sorry, Mom.”

“You’re always sorry, Ivy, but not as sorry as I am. I always knew you were trouble from the minute you were born, and all you did was cry. But it wasn’t until you killed your father that I really knew the truth.”

I close my eyes, willing her to stop.
I’m sorry, Daddy. So sorry.

“If you hadn’t been such a spoiled brat he’d still be with us. But it’s always about you.”

I flinch when she gets in the first blow — a slap right across my face. It stings so hard my cheek throbs. I bring my arms up to block the next one, but it’s too late. My head snaps backward from the force, pain shooting through my cheek and eye.

“You want to take everyone from me. My husband, my dad, but you can’t have them, Ivy. You are no good for anyone. Remember that.”
I duck away from her arm as it swings at me, but her knuckles rake across my cheekbone. It stings, and I reach up to grapple at my skin.

I whirl away from her, but she lunges at me. “Please stop,” I plead
, as her fingers tangle in my hair. My gaze takes in the stains on the brown carpet, and the fine gray hairs littering it from my mom’s cat. As my mom’s hands yank on my hair and her fingernails skid across my back, I choke from the familiar scents of my childhood – the cinnamon apple air freshener, and my mom’s vanilla perfume. I feel trapped just like I did as a kid, and I fight to wriggle out of Mom’s grasp so I can get home. Panic grips me, and a sob tears out of the back of my throat. The walls seem to close in on me. Just when I’m about to lose it the door swings open behind me, and cool air sweeps across my back.