Demon (WAR BROTHERS MC #5)

1. Ivy – A Fresh Start

ONE

IVY – A FRESH START

Ivy

With a beaming smile, Sammy says, “Mom, thanks for decorating my room. It looks so good.”

I lean down and brush a lock of brown hair behind her ear. “It does, doesn’t it?” I glance around at her new bedroom—a bed in the middle, a unicorn poster on the wall, and her toys neatly lining the shelves and corners of the room.

“Will Daddy be visiting?”

My heart drops, but I manage a smile. “I’m not sure, honey.”

When she starts playing with her toys, I leave and take a seat on the couch in the living room.

Sammy and I moved to Crown Village two days ago. I needed a fresh start—far from her father, Richard, or as I call him, Dickhead. He’s been a toxic presence in our lives, showing up only when he needed money to cover his gambling debts. It took months of planning—interviews at the hospital, house hunting, and researching childcare options—but here we are. The move wasn’t easy, but staying where we were wasn’t an option.

Holly, my closest friend, is the only person who knows where we’ve moved. It’s too risky to tell anyone else. Richard’s presence was never consistent, and his pattern of asking for money and disappearing made it hard on Sammy. Still, for years, I held on to hope that he’d change. I wanted Sammy to experience having a father, but things spiraled. The debts grew, and the people he associated with became more dangerous. The last time he showed up, he had a black eye, which was enough for me to realize we needed to leave.

I want so much more for Sammy. At five years old, she’s been remarkably resilient through this transition. Despite leaving her friends behind, she’s still her cheerful, vibrant self. Sometimes, I wonder how I got so lucky to be her mom. Having her as my daughter has been my greatest gift, and though I had her at nineteen, she’s become my best friend. Before her, I didn’t understand what unconditional love truly meant.

Sammy skips into the living room and hops onto my lap, her grin lighting up my mood. “Mom, can we get ice cream? I’m hungry,” she says, rubbing her belly for added effect.

I chuckle. “I’m hungry too. Ice cream sounds perfect.”

We head out to explore a nearby café I found online, with glowing reviews. The moment we walk in, we’re greeted by the aroma of fresh coffee. Black-and-white checkered tiles stretch across the floor, posters of Marilyn Monroe and Elvis Presley adorn the walls, and a jukebox in the corner plays an Elvis Presley song.

Sammy gasps and pulls me toward the counter. Her eyes widen as she stares at the rows of colorful ice cream flavors behind the glass.

“There are so many!” she exclaims, bouncing on her toes. “How am I supposed to choose?”

“They do look yummy,” I say, holding back a laugh as my stomach growls. “We should grab some lunch, too.”

Her eyes gleam as she decides. “Chicken nuggets and fries and... the rainbow ice cream!”

I raise a brow. “What else do you say?”

“Please, Mom?” she adds with an innocent smile.

“Better.”

After placing our order, we pick up our ice cream and find a nearby seat. Sammy digs into her dessert, slurping as swirls of yellow and pink ice cream color the corners of her lips.

“Can we come here every day?” she asks.

I give a small shake of my head, grinning at her optimism. “Not every day, but maybe once a week. It can be our special treat.”

She ponders for a moment before sighing dramatically. “Okay, just once a week.” She looks up at me, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Where am I going tomorrow while you’re at work?”

“There’s a babysitter in the house across the street.” I did extensive research, including looking at the woman’s comprehensive background check and calling up her past clients.

By the time we finish lunch and head home, I’m ready to tackle the last of the unpacking. Later, I message the babysitter to confirm we can meet before Sammy stays with her the next day. She messages back to say she’s available.

“Sammy, let’s go and meet the babysitter.” With her hand in mine, we cross the street. I double-check the number. A lady with short brown hair who looks around fifty is standing in the doorway of the small redbrick home.

“I’m Ivy and this is Sammy,” I say when we reach her.

She offers me a warm smile. “I’m Sandra.” She crouches so that she’s at Sammy’s level. “Nice to meet you. I hope you’re excited about tomorrow. We’ve got plenty of things to do.”

Sammy grins, and suddenly I can breathe a little better. She’s always been independent.

Sandra stands. “Come on in, I’ll show you around.”

The living room is close to the front door. We go down the hallway, into the dining room, where little kids’ tables are set out around a four-seater dining table. One wall is adorned with drawings and paintings. “This is where they have lunch and do art,” Sandra explains.

In the back part of the house is a small kitchen and a back door. Sandra opens the door and we walk outside. “Wow!” Sammy squeals. She runs over and climbs up the steps to get to the trampoline.

Sandra giggles. “Here we have the children’s favorite place.”

And I can see why. There’s a small green metal swing set with a slide and a wooden kids’ playhouse and a sandpit next to it.

“Don’t worry, the kids must put sunblock on and wear a hat before they come outside.”

Seeing all of this eased some of the anxiety which had been festering by the hour. I blow out a deep breath. We’re going to be all right.

Back home, I get everything ready for work and childcare the next day. Sammy and I are so exhausted that we go to bed early. I lie awake in bed for a little while hoping that I did the right thing by moving here because there’s still this heaviness in my chest when I think about Sammy being away from her father permanently and moving her away from the friends she made. On top of that, I have work. I hope to God the people at the hospital are nice to work with.

* * *

“Sammy,” I whisper, gently shaking her shoulder. “It’s time to get up, sweetheart.”

She groans, burying her face deeper into the pillow.

“Come on,” I coax. “I can’t be late on my first day.”

She finally stirs, blinking sleepily. Her bedhead makes me smile—her curly brown hair sticks out every which way. Stretching her tiny arms, she yawns and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. “Hug first,” she murmurs, holding out her arms, so I wrap my arms around her and pull her close.

I walk to the doorway and turn. “Your clothes are laid out on the couch. I’ve got your drink bottle, lunch box, and hat in your bag. What would you like for breakfast? Peanut butter on toast?”

She gets up and drags her legs over to me, and we walk together into the kitchen. “Yes,” she answers and yawns again, then perches at the kitchen island.

I get to work making her toast, and then I hand it to her on a plate. “I’ve got to finish getting changed.”

She gives me a small nod, and I continue to the bathroom and finish putting on my makeup, adding eyeliner to create my signature cat-eye look. I tie my hair in a high ponytail and add styling products. Trying to keep my hair in place during a twelve-hour shift is nearly impossible, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.

As I walk out, Sammy is putting on her light-up sneakers. I press my lips together, trying not to giggle. “Hon, they’re on the wrong feet.”

“Aww... really?” she deadpans, then huffs.

“It’s okay, I’ll help you.” She tried, that’s the main thing. I crouch down in front of her and place her shoes on the proper feet. “What would you like your hair to be in today?”

She pauses, her mouth twists and her big brown eyes glance away. “I want my big pink bow today.”

“Pink bow it is.”

Once her hair is styled, she puts her light-pink bag on. It’s super cute because it’s half her size. It has a unicorn on the front because of her unicorn obsession.

I take my bag and put it on my shoulder. “Are you ready?”

“Yep,” she says with a big grin and places her small hand in mine.

After I take Sammy to her babysitter, I drive to the hospital and recall our interaction when I dropped her off. She gave me a quick hug and ran away, eager to play with the other children. My heart drops and my anxiety skyrockets. I miss her already, and I’m worried about leaving my baby with someone new. The woman seems great. She said she’ll give me updates and send pictures of Sammy throughout the day and said I could call her whenever I wanted. It made a little stress leave my body, but not all.

I arrive at my new place of employment—Crown Village Hospital—and park in the employee parking lot. When I approach the entrance, I peer up at the hospital. Even though it’s a rural hospital, it’s large, with four levels and twenty-four-hour emergency services and numerous other specialties, including the intensive care unit where I’ll be working.

As I walk in, I smile. My new role awaits, and I remind myself why I’m here. For Sammy. For us. For a better tomorrow. I also love working as a nurse. I’m passionate about helping people.

I stride to reception and wait until the receptionist is finished on the phone to speak. “Hi, I’m Ivy Clarke. Today’s my first day as an intensive care nurse.”

She flashes me a friendly smile. “Welcome. Go to level four and tell the ladies at the front desk your name and let them know you’re new and you’re waiting for Linda, who is your manager. I’m sure she won’t be long.”

“Great. Thank you.” I look around.

“If you walk past the reception desk, you’ll see the elevators on the right-hand side.”

I find the elevators, get into one, and press the level-four button. My heart thrums as a mixture of nervousness and excitement collide.

As the elevator doors begin to close, a hand with a rose tattoo reaches out, making the doors open wide. I take a step back. A man covered with tattoos enters. The sight of him makes me gasp. Black and red abstract flames snake up his neck. Other black, gray, and white tattoos travel down his arms. He’s around six feet or taller, with broad shoulders.

He briefly glances at me and turns around as the elevator doors close. His hair is short, apart from a mohawk. His presence is all-consuming, making the elevator feel smaller than it is. Even the air feels thinner. I inhale the enticing scent of his cologne, a fresh woodsy scent mixed with pure man. His leather vest reads “War Brothers MC.” He must be part of a motorcycle club. He’s radiating don’t-fuck-with-me vibes and screams red flags, but he’s sexy nonetheless.

I find myself pulling at the neck of my shirt. Is it getting hot in here or what? It’s been way too long since I’ve had sex, and it’s clearly messing with me. The elevator pings, and he strides out. His heavy footsteps fade into the distance.

I blink back my sudden interest in a stranger and proceed to the front desk. The scent of sterile cleaning agents gets stronger as I approach the unit. I introduce myself, then take a seat.

Moments later a woman walks out, her eyes searching the waiting room until they land on me. She smiles. “Ivy, is it?”

I smile back. “Yes, nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she says.

I grasp her outstretched hand, and we shake hands.

“I’m Linda. It’s great to have you on board. Your first day will be meeting with human resources and going through the hospital’s policies. Once you’re finished, I’ll show you around and introduce you to the team and we can have a chat about what’s expected in your role. Then I’ll update you on the patients we currently have here in the ICU.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I say enthusiastically, keen to get started.

Halfway through my shift, my smile is wide. My colleagues are friendly and helpful. There’s always one cranky nurse everyone has to deal with, but they’re in every workplace. I get updates from Sandra about Sammy, and some of the weight lifts from my chest. Sammy and I are going to be okay.