Where the Ivy Hides (16 page)

Part 3

His

Chapter 20

Ryker

I fell in love with Ivy as soon as I saw her for the first time. I didn’t need her tell me how bad her life had been. I knew it immediately when we met. It wasn’t her quiet, under the radar approach when confronted with social interaction that tipped her hand, it was the longing for normalcy in her eyes when she didn’t think anyone was looking as a ‘happy’ family waltzed by.

I’ve never met a girl like Winter Ivy, and I don’t expect to meet another one after. Her resilience is just as adamant as her stubbornness, and if the Lord paid her a cent to follow, she couldn’t afford it, she can be the most aggravating little thing. She still is.

Ivy’s broken me heart more times than I can count in me life. She’s cheated, she’s lied—right to me bloody face and more than once. She’s betrayed me, and she’s never felt an ounce of remorse for any of it. But I’ll never love her any less.

Ivy’s like a wounded abandoned animal. All she knows is to fight, all she’s ever known is how to survive. I don’t know if she’ll ever make room in her heart for
useless
things like love, honesty, and devotion. But she’ll always be the girl me heart’s devoted to. The day I found out she was carrying me child had to be the best day of me life. She still had some barbeque sauce smeared on her cheek from her burger when I found her standing in the parking lot looking like a lost child.

I would’ve done anything in the world to hear her say her only fear was not being enough to be a good parent, that her biggest fear was me not being there. But she’d already made up her mind. She didn’t want to be a mother. And she didn’t want a family with me.

I was so certain I’d be able to change her mind. And I was even more certain the baby would. I had a bit of hope when I came into the office and seen that her water had broken, but when I looked into her eyes, whatever hope I’d felt vanished. It took everything in me not to stop that nurse from taking our baby from Ivy’s hospital room the day she was born.

Ivy didn’t want our little girl, and if she’d been honest with herself, she’d have known she didn’t want me either.

It was a little bit of luck and a whole lot me mums love and hard work that helped me being granted custody of me and Ivy’s daughter, Lily Blake Killian.

And sometimes, things work out in ways we never thought possible.

At first it was difficult. Mum had to stay at work full-time, at least during the first year of Lily Blake’s little life. So, that put me being stretched pretty thin in the beginning. In between working at Lucky’s full time, finding and keeping a decent sitter, and making some time around all of this to spend with new baby daughter
and
be there for Ivy, I fucked up. I didn’t pay attention to the warnings and AA flags when they started going up. The pain pills were for her pain. Like Motrin or Tylenol, or so I thought. It’s all fifty-fifty in hindsight, though. That’s what me Ivy’d say. When she left me, I have to be honest with ya… I didn’t think I’d make it out alive. It was like me whole world fell apart. And all I had left in her wake was silence and our precious little girl. I like to think of Lily Blake as me Ivy, or as me Ivy would have been had her mum and dad never left her. I wanted to think Ivy’d come around, that she’d find a way out of her rut and realize how much she needed Lily Blake. I just couldn’t seem to get it through me thick Irish skull that Ivy’d never come around, because she’d already given up.

She let go of our daughter the day the nurse walked from her room, taking her away to her new parents.

And I didn’t need her to spell it out in a letter to know that I’d failed her the night she left, I guess you can say it was in the air that night. I knew as soon as I walked into the kitchen that I’d fucked up. Hell, in under one minute, I could’ve listed off the ways. But the bottom line is, I fucked up. I tried to juggle it all for as long as I could, waiting for Ivy to come around, but I couldn’t keep up. In the end, I lost the love of me life…I lost me Ivy love.

For reasons I’ll never know, I repeat the exact same words I used lifetimes ago, pleading with her again, “As soon as you learn to give into me, Winter Ivy, I’ll give up on you. Deal?” I smile in an attempt to hide the pain cutting through me heart before giving in and kissing her soft, wet mouth, even though I know I’ll hate me self for it tomorrow.

And then just like always, I’m falling for her all over again. My urgency gets the best of me, and I shove her back against the tin metal wall of Lucky Pipes garage before shoving my hands down the front of her blue jeans, and grabbing the wet cotton covering her cunt. “Deal,” she whimpers, awakening the beast within.

It takes less than one minute to get her jeans unbuttoned and shoved down her trembling pale thighs marred in cuts and scars.

The sight of her so thin and pale causes something to break away inside me. I want to protect her. I don’t want her to ever feel another ounce of pain or feel sad on rainy days. I want to be the one who makes her smile. Always. I want this bloody always.

She falls to her knees and has me cock pulled out in her fist, and me own knees buckle before she starts pumping my shaft and licking the swollen head. I know to the marrow of me bones I can’t do this shite. I can’t bloody do it. “Oh no, ya don’t, love. I’ll have my fucking bloody way with ya before I get off this time.” I growl, grabbing her up under her arm and snatching her to her feet. I scoop her up and carry her to one of the work stations off the side of the bay and set her down before tugging her pants off the rest of the way.

As I step back and appreciate the exquisite visual of what is mine, what has always been mine and what will always be mine, I mutter in a sloppy Irish accent, “Ivy, right now, I’m gonna to make love to you, then after, me and you are gonna have ourselves a little talk. I’m gonna tell you what I want from you, and I’m gonna tell you why you’re gonna give it to me.” I tower over her small frame sprawled across the work bench like the pinup dream girl of the year, covered in tats in nondescript places. “All fucking mine,” I growl again. As I slide my pointer and middle finger between her bare wet pussy lips, I stroke my cock and continue through my clenched teeth next to her ear, “But right now, I’m gonna fucking make love to you, Ivy love.”

I sink slowly inside her till I can’t get any deeper. With my back bowed, I lean over her small frame and cup the sides of her face, putting us eye to eye with our foreheads together and then cautiously pull out before slowly sinking back in.

We both convulse immediately. Her hot little cunt grips down on my cock, and I feel the warmth of her cum bathe my shaft and I sigh. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Ivy what in the bloody hell are you doing to me, love?”

Fucking tears blur me vision and sting me eyes. But I don’t break our gaze. “What are ya doing to me?” I beg before surging back in, deeper and harder. Fucking her. I know I told me Ivy I was gonna make love to her and that was me plan, but in the end I guess I don’t.  I fuck her. I fuck her to make the pain she caused me fade. I fuck her for breaking me bloody heart so many damn times. I fuck her, and I mean
fuck her
, because I can’t bloody stop me self.

It’s so bizarre, but it’s just this way with Ivy. It always has been. She makes me crazy.

I love her, bloody hell, I love her. But I fucking hate her when I don’t.

Control is me issue with Ivy—I have none. I say what I mean, but me actions never spell out the same thing. And like a bloody amateur, all it takes is one look at her, and I’m flyin’ off the bloody handle with every damn one of me physical interactions with her.

First, I fuck her ignorant against the wall of a restaurant bathroom, and then I fucked her face against her front door. It’s no bloody wonder she keeps referring to herself as my whore. Me words say one thing, but me stupid cock won’t stop fucking her.

I circle her wrists with me fingers before pulling them above her head until they reach the particle board on the back of the work station wall. Me eyes only glance away from hers for a second towards her hands before coming back to hers and demanding, “Hold on to those hooks on the wall, love. Don’t fucking move them. Ay?”

Her whimper doesn’t stop the newest onslaught of thrusts. Ever more deeper and harder, I shove into her.

She mystifies me still, even now. And it does nothing to damper the rage boiling just beneath me surface. “Do you like to see me like this, Ivy? Completely out of control and without rational thought unless I’m bloody buried to the balls in ya? Why does it always have to be so bloody complicated with you? Huh, Ivy?”

With her hands clenching the hooks above her head until her fingers blanch, she saves me life by keeping her eyes on mine and meeting my every surge forward with a shove back as I spit me unrequested terms at her. “I don’t want ya fucking off with the British yank, I want ya to keep your bloody nose clean, and stop the fucking drinking and smoking, and get your bloody head out of your arse.”

It takes a will of a million champions, but I force me self to stop. I force me self to grab the reins and take control.

Still bowed over her, I grab her wrists and use them to link her arms around me neck before settling on top of her, cupping her face, “I love you, Ivy love. You’re it for me. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Because I’m it for you. Ay?” I use me thumbs to sweep her tears away. “I never had to catch you love, you just have to find your way.”

Chapter 21

Ryker

I’ll never forget the day I finally knew all the way to me bones that Winter Ivy was the one for me. I’d always thought of her as the prettiest girl I’d ever known, but I just never saw me self as the lucky schmuck getting a girl like her.

Back then, I was seeing red for a month before everything became clear. Funny how the world is, ay? Oh, I’d seen Ivy looking at Reesie with hearts in her eyes for about that long when she finally got her head knocked straight by yours truly. I still can’t believe I resorted to telling Coach White me Ivy’d been the girl with the punk who stole me wallet. I still hate the way it feels when ya remember something from your past and you wish you would’ve done it differently.

But looking back, I’d call it a by-any-means-necessary situation, kinda like every day of me damned life, lately—just so long as it ends with her on the back of me bike and her mothering me baby girl.

It’s just like I told her, I don’t have to be the one to catch her, she’s gotta bring herself back to me.

She knows I’m home.

We both know I’m home.

Just like she knew it all the way to her bones, the same way I did, Winter Ivy was the one for me. She was it.

She was so bloody beautiful that night at the dance. Jaci’s dress was a wee bit too tight, but it fit her well enough. Too well, if memory serves me correctly. I had to finish the joint I rolled earlier that night just to keep me boner under control.

Ay. Even then: Sans contrôle.

It must have been me Irish luck back then too that had me heading back to school that night after the dance to grab me art folder. Otherwise, I never would’ve seen her standing outside the gym, cursing her lighter for all it was worth with trash lying in bags at her feet. I’d have done seven Hail Mary’s just to get the chance to talk to her alone and there was me chance. Did I go overboard? Absolutely. Embellish a wee bit? What’s a lad to do, she was the bloody girl of me dreams, mate. I did what any solid Irish American would do, I laid it on thick, and wished it well with all me father’s father’s good ol’ green luck.

I took the shot.

And scored…even if it was just for a brief moment.

When I leaned in to kiss Winter Ivy, I was praying to the Lord above not to wake me up if it was a dream. And when our lips finally met under the awning of her front porch, I swear to this day, I saw stars shoot across the sky, her lips felt so bloody incredible.

Seconds later when our lips let go, I whispered against her mouth, “Ivy, love, you’re it for me. Now stop making me chase ya.” I kissed her again and then strolled me way to me bike at the curb.

Now, ten years later, here we sit in one of our first of many upcoming board meetings to strengthen the northern branches of Lucky Pipes bond with new distributors, ie, Miss Winter Ivy’s other project with Seattle Motorcycles, Inc.

See, me Ivy’s been busy. She’s been blowing her way through the art and bike world up here in her new little corner of her new little life with as much fervor as she’s blown through whatever extra cash she can on her old lingering habits.

She’s a fucking bloody power house in all sense of the words right now in front of all these men at the meeting and me. With her black silk capped sleeve button up blouse tucked into the dark gray empire waist pencil skirt that hugs her hips perfectly, and her red fucking heels that don’t end.

Bloody hell.

I adjust me self as her wool covered arse rounds the corner on me side of the meeting table. “I just think if we utilize the contacts I’ve accumulated by investing time into SMI, it would be much easier for Lucky Pipes both in the short and long term. Show me where you disagree, and I’ll listen to your rebuttal.”

She slowly makes her way back to her seat as she speaks, using her hands to help emphasize on the important, key parts of her speech. Me Ivy’s done a great job, she has.

I don’t think she’s even stopped for a breath since finishing school. She just traded one off for the next and runs both full-time jobs as one. It’s utterly incredible to watch.

She…is utterly incredible to watch, even still, after all this time.

After no one speaks or interjects any rebuttal against her debate, she signs the few pages on the desk in front of her before sliding them across the dark wood surface towards Reesie boy, then she settles her eyes on mine.

I pause.

I smile.

I breathe.

Once I’ve signed the paperwork and slid it to the person beside me, I sink back into me leather seat and keep me eyes pinned on Ivy’s. And after all the papers have been signed by all the meeting’s attendees, we stand and file into line from the conference room. But I linger at me spot at the table, at least until Ivy walks by. I brush me hand across the small of her back and lean in to whisper against her ear.

“Ya have a lunch date, I’m told.” I chuckle when I feel her body tense under me hand. “Now, now, me Ivy. I know ya been a good girl, I know ya done as I asked and got rid of that bloody wanker.”

As we step from the office and make our way towards the parking lot I continue to tease, “The question is, are ya clean? How long’s it been, me Ivy?”

I stop and turn towards her as we near her car, pinning her eyes with mine. Bloody begging her.

Her beautiful blue eyes gaze softly back into mine, “Yes, Ryker. I’m clean. I haven’t used or drank since the night in the garage. Okay? Now, what do you want? Yeah, I got rid of Bowen. Tell me, Ryker, before I lose my shit, what the fuck do you want from me? Because you keep telling me you’ll explain, but you never fucking do!”

When her eyes pool with tears, I realize how exhausted she is. She’s strung so tight, she’s a breath away from snapping.

God love her.

God help her.

But she won’t know how close her daughter is to her, not until I know for certain that this time she won’t run the bloody hell away from me—from us, again.

God dammit, I love me Ivy. I do.

But I gotta protect what’s mine, and right now the only thing that’s truly mine, is me sweet little five-year-old daughter, Lily Blake Killian.

“Ay. I just wanted to take ya to lunch, that’s all, love.” I smile me most convincing smile as I raise me hands in mock surrender. “That’s all.”

She blows her bangs out of her face and tilts her head to the side as she looks up at me suspiciously. “That’s it?” she asks.

“Ay.” I nod before looking down at the toe of me black boot, then I look back at her and smirk, “Just lunch, that’s it. Cross me heart.” I crisscross me fingers over me heart and wink.

It seems to take her a few moments, but she gathers her composure before sliding on her
its-me-against-the-world
mask into place and smiling.

I had plans to take her to a restaurant. One that was extremely far away from here, as well as nowhere near her place. Then I had plans to drive her home…where hopefully we’d talk. I’m trying to strengthen me will around Ivy. Me control.

I swear every minute I’m near her, I chant to me self in me head:

Don’t rape her, Killian. Don’t molest her, Killian. Fuck it, don’t look at her, don’t breathe her, don’t speak to her until you get yer head down south a wee bit less swollen, Killian.

I just chant. I don’t know if it’s actually working, but I’m too scared to not chant, so I chant.

Jesus, she’s beautiful.

I watch as the first bit of sun I’ve seen up here in this rainy state, filters through her dark hair and me palms itch to sink into it. Twist in it. Bloody yank on it.

Don’t rape her, Killian. Don’t molest her, Killian. Fuck it, don’t look at her.

As I look down, she speaks, “Okay, lunch sounds good. But I’m driving. And after, we,” I see her motion between us in me peripheral. “Go our separate ways. Ryker, it’s been established what’s going on here. I know what you want. But until I can meet whatever hidden pre-requisite or bar you have set for me, I can’t physically tie myself to you any more than I already am. It’s too much, Ry. You’re too much.”

Okay, well, there goes me plans. But she’s right. And maybe if I know going in I can’t put me hands on her, maybe I can keep me train of thought on track, and maybe we can make some bloody progress.

“Ay. Of course, me Ivy, love.” Me hand grasps her car door handle and I smile as she slides into the driver seat. But as soon as I see her bare legs spread under her dark gray wool pencil skirt when she pedals the clutch, a lump hardens in me throat, and I have to cough before I can speak, “Just pull onto the main road there.” I point towards the aforementioned road. “Find ya a restaurant ya fancy, love, we’ll eat a bite and have a chat. Sound good?”

After she nods, I close the door and then head towards me bike.

Right as she pulls out of her parking spot, she looks over her shoulder and sadly smiles at me, and an old memory crashes into me.

Beating its way against me frontal lobes as the rest of me brain drives me bike behind Ivy’s car.

I’d been walking through the woods, lost for I don’t know how long, but I’d bet it’d been at least a couple of hours since the sun fully set. And just as I round the corner of a hill I think I passed already, I see Reesie boy and Ivy’s fort. Finally. I don’t like sleeping at me house when me mum’s boyfriend stays the night. It’s bad enough seeing them kissing all day, but listening to them all night, too? No way. Thankfully, it was rare he drank when he was around me, so I’d only had to resort to sneaking out and tracking down this fort a handful of times. Me and mum moved here from a little town on the outside of Dublin when I was nine because me pops hit her one too many times. He was a drunk bastard and one of the main reasons I would later try and keep away from me weakness for scotch.

Just as I extend my hand out to open the door,  I hear a grown man mutter something under his breath and I dive to the side, landing tucked to the side of the fort in the dirt, hugging the well-constructed outer wall.

“You better have yourself home and cleaned up by the time Blythe gets out of the shower, too, you piece of shit!” A short stocky older man shouts. I can barely make out his profile in the dark but I know exactly who it is the minute I hear his clearer voice.

Edward Cage.

Winter Ivy Cage’s ‘uncle’.

I knew there was something funny about that guy. I knew I hated the slimy bastard.

It takes me a whole five minutes to move after I don’t hear his boots stumbling in the distance any more, and even then, it’s only because I hear her whimper.

I’m up on me hands and knees crawling towards the little wooden door and as soon as I tear it open, I freeze in the doorway at the sight before me.

There’s blood… Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, there’s blood… everywhere. “Ivy?” I hiss, mainly because I’m scared out of me bloody mind. I see her dark head shaking back and forth in the moonlight shining through the windows. “Ivy?” I adjust me tone when me fear is blanketed with concern as me eyes meet hers.

With our eyes locked, her head keeps shaking as she mutters, “No no no no no no no no.” And the closer I ease towards her, the louder she gets. She’s damn near yelling when I put me hands on her shoulders and squeeze, she shouts when I shake her, “NO! It’s only this bad on the first day! Why are you here? Why are you here on the first day? JUST GO AWAY!”

I don’t know what to do next, so I just wrap me self around her. I keep moving, I keep pulling her closer to me, then closer around me. Then I fidget in her hair because me fingers wont’ be bloody still, but I whisper, I do whisper the entire time, “It’s okay, me Ivy, I won’t tell anyone, love. I won’t tell.” Over and over I whisper it to her as I pull her closer to me.

The sun comes up when I feel her body finally sag against me own as she falls asleep.

After I slowly ease her to the floor, I grab up the messy clothes we cleaned up at some point during the night and toss them in me backpack. I pull me fresh, clean pair of uniform shorts and a shirt from me practice bag and set them beside Ivy where she sleeps. And before I leave, I grab a piece of paper and a pen from me backpack and scribble a note to Ivy.

Ivy, I’m sorry about coming here last night. I know you don’t want anyone to know, and I’ll never tell a soul. But I’ll also never let it happen again. The first night? Ay, then. Every first night, come hell or high water, I will make sure this does not happen again. It’s me duty, now. I swear this to you, from this day forward, I’m gonna be the lad who protects ya. Something happened last night to me, Ivy love, and if I have to catch ya to prove it, I will. Till next time, me beautiful girl. ~Ryker.