7. Ivy – Betrayal Slices like a Knife
SEVEN
IVY – BETRAYAL SLICES LIKE A KNIFE
Ivy
Last night I slept with Sammy in her very small single bed. I’ve missed her so much, and all I wanted was to hold her. I’m grateful our life is finally looking brighter—this is the fresh start we needed here in Crown Village.
In the kitchen, I grab the pan and get the ingredients out to make pancakes—Sammy’s favorite. After making six of them, I pile them on a plate.
Sammy walks out, rubbing her eyes. They widen at the plate of pancakes on the kitchen counter. She dashes over and eagerly takes a seat. “Oh, yummy! Pancakes!”
It’s the small things. I grab her a plate. “How many?”
She presents me with a cheeky grin. “All of them.”
Laughing, I place two pancakes on her plate. “You don’t want to feel sick at the beach.”
She squeals. “We’re going to the beach?”
I nod.
“Yesss,” she cheers, punching a hand above her head.
I let her eat while I get our bathing suits and clothes ready and pack a large bag for the beach.
* * *
Sammy and I take a seat on towels laid out on the sand. My hair flutters away from my face. There are no waves at the beach. The ocean water laps the sand instead. People are scattered around the sand, but it’s not overly crowded.
Sammy’s sitting beside me on her pink unicorn towel, grinning and wearing rainbow-colored sunglasses and, of course, a frilly one-piece unicorn bathing suit. I grab the sunscreen out of the bag. We smeared it all over her before we left, but there’s nothing wrong with adding more sun protection.
I place a dab of the cool white cream onto my hands and shuffle over closer to her. “Sunglasses off, please.”
She groans. “But Mom?—”
I cut her off. “Just one more layer on your face and I’ll leave you be.” For a little while, but I decide to leave that part out.
She hesitates.
“ Please ,” I add again.
She lets out a little huff of annoyance. I’m getting the sass already.
After lathering her up, I apply more sunscreen to my face, then pull my dress over my head and put it in my bag.
“Can we go into the water?”
“Sure can.” I already have a light sheen of sweat on my body.
We stand, I grab her little hand in mine, and we walk toward the water, our feet sinking in the sand as we go. When we get to the water’s edge we halt, letting the cold water lap over our feet first. Sammy lets out a high-pitched giggle. I smile, loving the sound of her happiness.
We walk further until we’re at her hip height. I shiver. The water is freezing. She tugs on my hand. “Come on, let’s go further.”
“Not too much further,” I reply. “I want you to be able to touch the bottom.”
“I can swim,” she shoots back with attitude.
I raise a brow. “I know you can.” I can’t help but be overprotective of her.
We walk further until she’s at chest height. I lower myself until the water reaches my shoulders. I shiver again. I peer up at the sand, where my bag is. I’m feeling uncomfortable that my belongings are on the sand away from me, especially my phone and wallet. But when I looked into Crown Village before we moved here, all indications were the crime rate is low.
Farther away, in the far distance, stands a man wearing black. I can faintly see he has tattoos. Is that Jett?
“Mom, Mom,” Sammy says, pulling my attention away. “Can we get one of those?” She points to the shallows, where kids are playing on a boogie board.
“If you’re good, maybe Santa will bring you one.”
She smiles brightly. “I’m always good. So, I’ll definitely be getting one of those.”
I chuckle. “Is that so?”
She bobs her head, and some of her hair falls into her face. “Yep.”
I return my gaze to the shore again, but the man is no longer there. I’m daydreaming of Jett now.
After spending time at the beach and grabbing an ice cream, we head home. I make us a sandwich for lunch, and we watch a kid’s movie. Both Sammy and I fall asleep while watching it. When I wake up, I do some housework and get ready for my appointment at the nursing home. I put on a flowery dress, leave my hair out in the beach waves, and do my makeup.
Sammy pops her head in as I’m finishing the cat-eye look. “You’re so pretty!”
My heart contracts. “Thank you.” I turn, crouch down in front of her, and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I have to help a friend for an hour or so, but I won’t be long. Sandra said you can play there until I get back.”
“Okay,” she replies.
I blow out a breath. No arguments. She’s such a good girl. “Are you ready?” I ask her.
“Yep,” she says.
I take her to Sandra’s, then drive to the nursing home. My heart races as I park next to Jett, who is standing by his motorcycle. Over six feet of deliciousness. After grabbing my handbag, I get out of the car. I flash him an effortless smile. I can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but a hint of a smile curls the corner of his lip. I can’t wait to see this man give me a real smile.
I feel his eyes on me as I close the door and walk to him. “Were you by any chance at the beach today?” I ask playfully.
“And if I was?” His voice reflects mine.
I don’t know what to think or how to feel about that. Was he following me, or is he joking? His unreadable expression always makes it hard to judge.
I cast a look at the nursing home, knowing the appointment is in ten minutes. “Is there anything in particular you’d like me to ask?”
He slowly shakes his head. “Madeline starts here tomorrow.”
I touch my forehead and stare. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a guy in the MC who’s done the research. The feedback was positive. I put an application in and got accepted. Madeline comes here tomorrow.”
My brows knit together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His motorcycle boots eat up the distance between us until we are standing so close I can smell his minty breath. He raises a tattooed hand, the one with the rose tattoo. I stay perfectly still, craving his touch so much that my nails dig into my palm. He sweeps an unruly piece of hair out of my face, sliding it between his fingers. A hurricane of need sweeps through my body. I stare at his full lips. His hand falls to his side, and he takes a large step back while shaking his head. My cheeks flush. Disappointment slices me.
“Did you want to see me this afternoon?” I probe, wanting to know why I’m here.
His jaw tightens. There’s a brief silence, and I wonder if he even knows his reason for wanting to see me.
My phone rings in my bag. I pull it out to see my friend Holly’s name on the screen. I answer it and move away from Jett.
“Hey,” Holly says. Her voice sounds off. “I’m so sorry.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, suddenly alarmed.
“Owen said he told Richard you’re in Crown Village.”
I freeze, hardly breathing.
“He didn’t realize that Richard didn’t know. He wouldn’t have said anything otherwise.”
Richard and Owen used to be best friends. That was before Richard’s gambling got out of control.
“When did he tell him?” I ask.
“About four hours ago. Owen only just told me.”
My throat tightens. I rub at the base of my neck. What if Richard finds us again? “Did Owen tell him my address?” Not that Crown Village is big by any means.
“I think so,” her voice quietens, sadness lingering in her words.
“I need to go,” I say and hang up. This overwhelming sense of dread twists my stomach. He could be at my house at any time considering it took four hours to drive here myself.
“What’s wrong?” Jett asks, his voice rough and guarded.
I force a smile, though I’m not sure if it came across as a grimace. “I’ve got to get going,” I say through frantic breaths. “I’ll umm... catch up with you another time.”
I dash to my car, get in and race home. I think back. Maybe Richard just wants to talk to me, but what if he’s just after more money? Money I don’t have. I clench the steering wheel. I don’t want him back into our lives, disappointing Sammy again.
I peel into the driveway and park haphazardly. I see Dickhead sitting on the porch. Anger tears through me. I get out, slam the door closed, and grit my teeth. Screw him! Sammy and I deserve better.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss.
He stands and throws his hands up in the air. “You fucking left. Changed your number. Not one fucking word,” he booms.
Despite his tone, I go toe-to-toe with him. I usually try my best to calm my anger around Sammy, but she’s not here. I take a proper look at him. He’s skinnier, with hollow dark circles under his eyes. His T-shirt is crinkled, like he’s slept in it for days.
“You don’t care about us.” I put my hand on my hip. “Ooh, I get it,” I say sarcastically, “you need money. How much is it this time? It didn’t take you long to fuck up again.”
His mouth slams shut. I’m not stupid. That’s the reason he’s here.
A motorcycle rumbles in the background. I don’t need to turn around to know that it’s Jett.
Richard’s hand goes to the back of his neck. “I’m in a bind. I’m in with some serious people. Like... they are going to badly hurt me if I don’t get them the money I owe them.”
I clench my hands and feel my face redden. “I set myself on fire to keep you safe... out of trouble. Working myself into the ground so Sammy had a father, but by doing so, she missed out of more time with me. I won’t do it anymore. Helping you out is a life sentence.”
With no compassion, he says, “Two of the men are here in town with me...” His shoulders drop and he stares at the ground.
He should be ashamed of himself.
“They expect the money.”
His voice grates on my nerves. “That sounds like a you problem. I’m done.” I rub my hands together. “It’s about time you reap the consequences of your actions... but leave me out of it.”
He peers behind me, his eyes bulging.
Jett moves ahead of me until half his body is in front of mine. “What’s going on here?” His voice is playful, with a savage undertone.
Richard takes a few steps back and looks as me with pleading eyes as if to ask me to help him out. Typical.
Jett grabs a handle from his waistband. Is that a knife? I grab his arm, making him flinch ever so slightly.
“This is Richard,” I say to Jett. “Sammy’s sperm donor.” He doesn’t deserve the title father.
I let out a sigh, thankfully Sammy isn’t here to see this. “I used to wake up every morning hoping you’d do the right thing...” I stare at Richard. “To stop gambling and be the father Sammy deserves. It’s clear that’s never going to happen. Don’t come back. I want nothing to do with you.” I spit venom, and I mean every word.
Richard’s eyes dart between Jett and me. He doesn’t answer, runs away like the coward he is toward his beaten-up car.
Jett turns and steps in his direction, but I pull on his arm. “Don’t worry about him.”
His head whips to me. “I want to make sure he doesn’t return.” His voice lowers to a deadly tone.
It startles me. I sense Jett wants to do more than just chat with Richard. “Richard gambles. It sounds like the people who he owes money to are going to hurt him if he doesn’t pay them, which is a high probability. So, please . Let it be.”
He pulls out of my grip. “Go stay where Sammy is for an hour. I’ll go get security cameras for the inside and outside of your house and a deadbolt for your door. I’ll put them in today.”
He remembers her name . “No really. There’s no need.” But it feels good to have someone in my corner.
There’s no response. He strides to his bike, gets on, and speeds away.
* * *
I’m at Sandra’s, and it’s been over an hour. Jett’s being overly cautious. I get it. He’s in a motorcycle club—protecting others is probably second nature for him. But I’ve got nothing for Richard. I’ve ended it, and I refuse to let him burden Sammy and me any longer. His gambling has nothing to do with me.
“Is everything okay?” Sandra asks quietly while Sammy is building a castle with blocks.
I frown. “Is it okay if Sammy stays here tonight? I’m so sorry to put this on you last minute,” I say in a rush of words. I lean in closer to her and whisper, “Sammy’s father”—I cringe at the word father but need her to understand—“unexpectantly turned up today at the house asking for money I don’t have. He has a gambling problem, and I’d just like to make sure he’s not going to come back tonight.”
She places her hand on my arm. “Of course,” she says. “Are you going back over there?”
“Yes. My friend is coming over to put security cameras up and a stronger lock on the door. Richard wouldn’t hurt us. My friend wants us safe.”
She gives me a small smile. “That’s a good friend you have.”
There’s a fluttering sensation in my chest and stomach. “Yes, he is.” It feels good to have someone care about us.
I stand and go over to Sammy. “You’re having a sleepover with Sandra tonight. I’ll go get your clothes and get you some popcorn so you can watch a movie together.”
She grins. “Movie night? Yes! When are you picking me up?”
When I make sure it’s safe. “Tomorrow.” I stand to leave. “I’ll be right back with your clothes.” I walk to the door and peer over my shoulder at Sandra. “Thank you so much for this.”
I step outside and cross the road. I open the door to my home, go inside, put my bag down, and dash to Sammy’s room. I pull her bag out of the wardrobe and shove in pajamas and clothes for tomorrow. In the bathroom, I pack her toothbrush and hairbrush.
A loud bang makes me jump. It was the front door flying open, hitting the wall. My heart punches my rib cage. I hear footsteps and I freeze. Someone’s here. Richard wouldn’t knock a door down, and neither would Jett.
“I know you’re in here,” a deep male voice says, and chills tear through me.
“Give us the money and we’ll leave. No one has to get hurt,” another male voice says.
Richard told them I have money. My hand trembles. I must get out of here before they find me. I put the bag on the bed and listen. They sound like they’re in my bedroom at the front of the house. My bag is on the kitchen counter. I just have to make it there, grab my bag, and slip out the back door.
I peek around the wall and search the hallway. They aren’t there yet. Keeping as quiet as I can, I rush out and to my bag, grasp it, then rush to the back sliding door. My hands still shake as my body vibrates with fear. As I unlock and slide it open, heavy footsteps rushing toward me make my body go stiff as stone. Then there’s a searing pain in my scalp and I’m being yanked back by my hair. I scream in pain and stumble.
“Bitch, where’s the money?” one man spits. I nearly heave at the smell of his breath.
The other comes into sight. He’s over six feet of muscle, with a tribal tattoo on the side of his face and wearing a tight black T-shirt. “Tell us where it is, and we’ll leave.”
I momentarily shut my eyes and swallow down the sudden emotion. “I don’t have money. I never did. Whatever Richard said is a lie.” My voice breaks at the end.
A hot, sharp pain radiates from my face. Then there’s darkness.
When I wake, my head is pounding. I’m lying on something soft. When I open my eyes, it’s blurry, but I see Jett. “I’m here, Little Bird,” he says softly, and I close my eyes and fall back into the abyss.