4. Ivy – Little Bird
FOUR
IVY – LITTLE BIRD
Ivy
After I finish my shift, I drop in to say goodbye to Madeline and Jett. As I leave the room and walk over to the front desk of the ward, I glance over my shoulder to see Jett, standing by the door to his sister’s room, watching me. I gave him a smile and a little wave. He just stares.
Talk about a man of few words. It was like trying to get blood from a stone, but I guess his silence has a voice too. I get the sense he’s not a people person, but I am. I shouldn’t pry so much and should stick to myself and focus on my work, but I enjoy conversing with patients’ families. I’ve taken a liking to Jett. So caring, yet so cold. Very mysterious. I find myself wanting to know more, but he’s part of a motorcycle club. Are they dangerous? What exactly do they do?
Men should be the last thing on my mind after everything Sammy’s father has put us through, but the way Jett cares for his sister and is so devoted, hardly leaving her side, warms my heart. When he told me about the tattoo on his arm of his sister, I both cried and melted into a puddle by his feet. The love he has for his sister proves he has a heart beneath that tough exterior. I wonder why he’s so cold and quiet. I have this odd urge to wrap him up in a big hug. It looks like he needs one. I smile at that thought.
Later, at home, I’m sitting on the lounge chair and thinking about the sexy biker with the polarizing eyes and curt attitude when little miss Sammy plops on my lap with a serious look on her face. “How’s Santa going to know we’ve moved?” Her worried little voice cracks my heart open.
“Because Santa knows everything.” I rub her back. “Don’t worry, Santa will bring the presents here.”
She’s still frowning, so I cup her face. “I promise... What’s wrong?” I stare into the amber eyes that are like my own.
“What about Daddy, is he coming to spend Christmas with us?”
I pull her into a tight embrace and blink back the emotion. I hate that Dickhead has put us into this situation. That Sammy now misses out on having a father. It feels like I’m the bad person, when I just want us to be free and not have to worry about what he’s got himself into and what type of people he’s pissed off. Anger simmers beneath the surface.
“I don’t know if Daddy’s coming to Christmas. But that’s okay. You haven’t told me what’s on your Christmas list yet.”
She pulls back and that frown fades into a grin. “I want unicorns.”
I’m not surprised in the least. I’ve been putting a little money away for Christmas, not that I’ve had a chance to save much since Dickhead wiped out my savings last time. Christmas is coming up quickly, so I have to try to save as much as possible. The rent here is expensive. I’m sure we’re living in the oldest townhouse that was ever built in Crown Village, but it’s a home for us, at least in the meantime.
“It’s bedtime now.”
“I’m not tired.” She pouts, her eyebrows squishing together. It’s the cutest thing.
I lift her off my lap. “Come on, you should’ve been in bed an hour ago.”
She huffs. “Fine.”
Five years old and already full of sass. God help me when she gets older. I follow her into her bedroom, and she dives into bed, pulling her colorful unicorn comforter over her.
“Book first, Mom.”
“Which one do you want me to read tonight?”
“Sally the unicorn.”
I pull the book out of the bookshelf and settle onto her bed and begin reading. Halfway through she’s already asleep. I pull her comforter up a little higher and go to the window and shut the blinds. I smile back at her angel-like face before turning the light off and pulling the door closed.
I head to the front door and check that it’s locked once more before going to bed.
* * *
After I wake up, I rub a hand down my face. I’m so tired. I dreamed of my ex and woke up in a cold sweat. My body shakes as goosebumps travel up both arms. I dreamed he found us and took Sammy from childcare and left without telling me. What happens if he does find us?
I get changed, apply an extra layer of concealer under my eyes, and take Sammy to childcare, then go to work. Even though I’m tired, my stomach still buzzes with excitement at the thought of seeing Jett.
I sign in and chat to my boss before I peek into Madeline’s room to see Jett inside, by her bed where he usually is, leaning back with his hands behind his head in a relaxed position.
“Good morning.” I beam as I walk into the room. I’m hit with his cologne, and oh my lord, it’s heavenly.
He sits up straighter in his chair. I get a slight chin lift... progress.
I move to Madeline’s side by the vital signs monitor. “Hi, Madeline. It’s Ivy. I’m doing your observations this morning.” I don’t think she can hear me, but I’ve always liked to say it to people who are unresponsive or in a coma. I do her observations, and when I turn to Jett, his intense eyes are still on me.
“How’s she doing?” he asks, his voice even and serious.
“Still improving,” I say. “When the doctor does his rounds, he may decide she’s ready to come off the ventilator and recover on the ward.”
“The nurse told me that already,” Jett replies.
I pause. “O-kay.” My forehead creases confused why he asked.
His face is unreadable. “I wanted to hear it from you.”
My head tilts. “You didn’t believe the other nurse?”
He slowly shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine.
I blink a few times. “But you believe me?”
He leans forward, placing his elbows on his solid thighs, his biceps bulging with the movement. Then he clasps his hands together. It’s the first time I notice the tattoos on his knuckles, the left-hand reading “dark” and the right-hand reading “soul.”
“Yes,” he replies, though his voice ripples with uncertainty, like he doesn’t know why he trusts me more than her.
Upon closer inspection, I see he has dark circles under his eyes again and his mohawk is messier than yesterday. I frown. “Did you sleep in here again?”
“Yeah.” He stands, his leather vest rustling as he does.
I forgot how tall and built he is. He stretches his neck from side to side showing off the chaotic design of splashes of mostly black with dashes of red ink. It makes me want to see the rest of his tattoo. “I’ll see if there’s anything still available from breakfast.”
He takes two strides to me. He’s staring down at me with piercing hazel eyes. Unique and striking. Light brown around the iris, moss green on the outside. A normal person would have taken a step back by now. Not me. Instead, I say, “You have beautiful eyes.”
His lip twitches at the corner, like I amused him. I’ll take that as a win. He studies me carefully. “It doesn’t look like you slept much either.”
“Is that your way to tell me I look like crap?”
He subtly shakes his head.
Someone clears their voice. Milly and Madeline’s doctor are by the door. Jett takes a step back.
“Dr. Javis is here to talk to Jett about Madeline’s condition.” Milly glances at me. “Ivy, can I speak to you for a moment?”
“Sure.” I follow Milly out. She walks into a vacant room, so I gather this may be private.
She gives me a polite smile. “I wanted to properly introduce myself. My name’s Milly White and I’m an ER doctor.”
I smile back. “My names Ivy Clarke, and I just started this week as an ICU nurse.”
She nods, studying me. “I thought I hadn’t seen you before. I usually don’t come up to this floor, but I’ve been checking Madeline’s condition. I know Jett because he’s my brother’s friend. I apologize if I walked in on something between you two.”
My eyes widen. “Oh no. It’s nothing like that.”
She slowly raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
I snort. “Yes, I am sure.”
She clicks her tongue. “It didn’t appear that way.” Her tone’s playful.
“You said you know him... Why doesn’t he talk much?”
Her eyes sparkle. “ You are into him.”
I flush. “Have you seen him?” Devastatingly attractive yet radiating an undeniable aura of trouble. Red flag... might as well be a green one though because I’ve never met anyone like him. Jett’s mysterious, I want to get to know him. “Why is he the way he is?” I flinch at my word vomit. His past is really none of my business, but I don’t correct myself. I’m too invested. I need to know details.
She grimaces slightly. “I don’t know much at all. Just that he was living on the streets and that my brother Bain gave him a chance. I get the impression he’s had a rough life.”
My chest burns. I sensed it would be bad.
She leans in, lowering her voice. “The men at the MC say he’s a sociopath, so uh... just be careful.”
Sociopath . Oh dear... “Is he a bad person?”
She peers away lost in thought.
“The suspense is killing me,” I joke.
She chuckles. “Bain has never said a bad word about him being a bad person as such. The MC is tightlipped about everything, but I never got that impression. However, from my interactions with him, I believe he is psychotic.”
A sociopath... just my luck. I sigh... but then I scold myself. Why am I thinking about a man anyway, no matter how handsome he is?
“Well, I better get back.”
“Me too,” I reply, forcing a smile.
We leave, going our separate ways.
Later, during my rounds, I take a deep breath before I go into the room I’ve been dreading. A man who was stabbed has recently had surgery and is in recovery. His family member—a broad, intimidating man in his forties—paces the room, his rigid body showing tension. I knock. He halts and snaps his head toward me, his eyes narrowing into slits.
“Hi, sir,” I say, plastering on my best reassuring smile. Kill them with kindness . “My name’s Ivy. I’m a nurse here and I’m here to take?—”
His voice booms before I can finish. “Don’t fucking touch him! Why isn’t he awake yet?”
My heart beats faster, but I speak as calmly as I can. “Please don’t yell.”
He storms toward me. My pulse skyrockets. I step back into a hard body. I glance behind me and find Jett standing there, glaring at the man. His grin, evil and menacing, sends a shiver down my spine. The man before me cowers with eyes as wide as saucers.
“I think you should meet me outside.” Jett’s voice is colder than ice. He releases a chilling chuckle. “Sounds like we need to have a chat or... something else entirely.”
Something else?
“Uh... no... everything’s fine,” the man stammers, his gaze darting to me. He gulps. “Sorry, miss.”
Before I can respond, my boss and a security guard rush inside. “Are you okay?” my boss asks me. Her eyes widen when she sees the huge mass of a man behind me.
I peek up at Jett. He looks amused, but there’s a darkness in his eyes. “Yes.” I am now.
“I want him out,” she tells the security guard, pointing to the hostile man. “My nurses are to be treated with respect. I won’t tolerate this behavior on my ward.”
I sag with relief as the guard escorts the man out. When I turn around again, Jett’s gone.
My boss turns to me, her expression softening. “Go take a break for fifteen minutes.”
“I’m okay, really.”
She pouts. “It wasn’t a request.”
I nod, still shaken, and retreat to gather myself. During my break, I type “sociopath” on my phone.
Sociopathy is a mental health condition where an individual consistently disregards moral standards and the rights and feelings of others. Those with this disorder can experience emotions. Both genetic and environmental factors commonly contribute to the development of this disorder. For long term management, maintaining healthy relationships and a strong support system are crucial.
A part of me wonders if that’s why he has so many tattoos: to scare people off. I liked seeing a different side to him—the protective side. I never had anyone defend me like that... ever . I smirk; I saw a glimpse behind his mask.
Later on during my shift, I thank Jett and watch as the team transfers Madeline to the other ward. My shoulders are still tense and my mind’s still reeling from dealing with the patient’s visitor, so when it’s time to go home, I find myself checking left and right out of the entrance doors. Fear forces me to walk faster until I hear a deep voice say, “Ivy.” I jump and whirl around to see a shadowy figure approach from the side of the hospital. I get ready to rush back inside until I see it’s Jett walking toward me.
I grab my chest; my heart is hammering. “You scared me.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.” His voice is gruff, his eyes determined.
Relief courses through me. “Thank you,” I say, still trying to catch my breath. A thought that this isn’t a good idea flickers through my mind, but I don’t think he’d hurt me, and after today I trust he’d protect me. “I’ve gotta say,” I tease lightly, “kindness looks good on you.”
There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. I long to see a real smile. We walk side by side toward the parking lot. “Thanks again for today. I appreciate it.”
He grunts. I’m so exhausted that I don’t have much energy to muster up a conversation. I just want to get home and hold my baby girl. When I reach my car, I unlock it, and when I get in, he holds the door open. I glance up at him.
“Don’t let him dim your smile, little bird.”
The way he purrs that last part... little bird , a term of endearment. A shiver wracks my spine. He moves to the front of my car. I struggle to start my car, my brain short-circuiting. As I reverse, I take an extra second to look at Jett.
“Lock the doors,” he calls out, before I give him a nod and drive away into the night.