13. Ivy
THIRTEEN
Ivy
No one is making a move to stop this guy. I can see out of the corner of my eye that the bartender has noticed, and he’s staring wide-eyed, not quite sure how he’s supposed to handle this.
Bounce him? Come over here? Seriously, I’d take anything.
But it’s just then I realize how young the bartender looks, and I have a feeling this is his first time slinging drinks and dealing with this kind of thing.
“Please, I’m not interested. You need to leave me alone.”
My words don’t have the bite I want them to, and even I can hear the waver in my voice that completely diminishes my message.
I sound like a scared little mouse. I feel like a scared little mouse.
“That’s quite enough. She said no.”
The flaring alarm bells in my head falter, and I spin around toward the other end of the bar. The body behind me has gone, I’m not sure when, and coming from the other side of the room is Xaden.
“Xaden?”
He’s at my side quicker than I can say anything else, and he puts himself between me and the guy harassing me, a twinge of pain hitting my side as the offender’s rough hold is broken.
“Leave.”
That bite I wanted—and frankly, something a hell of a lot more intimidating and backed by pounds of muscle strapped to a six-two frame—lashes out from Xaden’s words. The guy who’s been shoved away from me goes white, and I almost wonder if he’s pissed his pants.
“Look, dude, I was just trying to?—”
“I know exactly what you were trying to do,” Xaden cuts in. “And you’re not about to assault her. Get lost before I call the cops.”
The man—who is so much beefier than I realized when I was just looking at his face—hurries off, stumbling over the stool that sits close behind him.
My roiling guts start to cool down, and I can actually hear the world with my ears not clogged up by my heartbeat.
“Holy shit…he was going to…” Xaden turns around, his calm, serious stare meeting mine as my thoughts start to tumble again.
“Hey, you’re alright. I wasn’t about to let him hurt you. Are you okay?” He leans forward, putting his hands on either one of my shoulders, but I can’t answer. “Ivy?”
It’s a moment before I can finally blink, the weight of Xaden’s hands grounding me in the here and now.
“I…umm…” I start to nod, and before I can ask for it, I’m guided backward onto a stool. “Oh, yeah. This is better. I’m…I’m okay.”
Xaden’s face relaxes, his dimpled smile making me feel… safe .
“Good.” He smiles, but the creases between his eyebrows are still stark. “Look, I should take you home. I think you need to get some rest after…after all that.”
I’m nodding before I quite process what I’m agreeing to. When it clicks, I remember Sam at the other end of the bar.
Looking over, I don’t see her there, but then, from the back of the bar, I see her walking toward me with a confused expression on her face.
“Hey,” she approaches Xaden and me, her brows knitted together, “did I miss something?”
I can hear the concern in her voice, and my throat tightens before I can eke out, “There was this guy. He was harassing me at the bar. Got really…handsy. Umm, this is my boss, Xaden. He’s going to take me home, okay?”
Sam’s eyes are wide as saucers, and I can see the guilt her face.
“Shit, I’m so sorry. I was using the bathroom and got distracted by my phone. Shit, I feel terrible.” She shakes her head, her eyes flicking to the ground before they come back to me. “I should have been there. God, yeah, please go home. Get some rest.”
“It’s not your fault, Sam. Thank you for even thinking of me tonight.” I smile weakly, the adrenaline receding and making me shake.
“I promise to get her home safe, and I’ll text so that you have my number and can confirm.”
It’s such an oddly sweet thing to do, ensuring that Sam has his number as an act of trust. I really wish more men were like Xaden, but tonight just reminds me of what I’ve learned so very thoroughly over the years.
You can’t trust men.
Images of my parents roar to the front of my skull, making my steps falter as Xaden guides me toward the exit.
It wasn’t just my dad. It was my mother, too.
And you can’t trust the women who believe their lies.
Most of the drive back home was a blur, and before I knew it, we arrived. The car is quiet now, and there are too many thoughts rushing around in my head.
But there’s one I can’t ignore anymore.
Xaden shuts off the engine, and the rumbling noise that once filled the silence disappears, making the lack of noise around me press down even harder.
“Why…” My voice cracks, my throat dry and unprepared to talk after clamming up for the entire trip. “Why did you help me?”
There’s an obvious answer, sure.
But I need to know if it’s the sincere one, too. I’ve been betrayed by the very people who raised me, and thinking that Xaden did this out of the goodness of his heart seems too good to be true.
“I wanted to help you. I…” Xaden looks over the dash, and I can see the cogs work in his brain. “I was there with a friend drinking. I happened to turn and see you and…I saw what that guy was doing.”
Bitterness clings to me, and the sharp words come out despite how objectively kind Xaden has been.
“So now what? Do you expect me to reward you?”
His eyes snap to mine, flaring wide as his jaw drops. “Absolutely not. I swear to you, it wasn’t like that. I don’t expect you to trade one predator for another.”
Tension bleeds from me, and I fight against a sob that threatens to break free.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just…I’ve been through a lot in my life. This was, umm, triggering.”
Xaden turns toward me in the car, angling his long legs in a folded crumple so that he can look at me head-on.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m not delusional, Ivy. I know the kinds of people who exist in this world, and it can be so hard. I have a daughter that I worry about constantly. But I want you to know that you are safe with me. I will not harm you. Ever.”
They are words, pretty and perfectly chosen, but the thing is, I actually believe them.
There is something about Xaden, the sincerity that he offers me, that makes me feel safer than I have…maybe in all of my life.
He’s being genuine, and it occurs to me that he is the first man I’ve seen like that in years.
There is no pretense with him, and whether that comes from a place of premeditated effort or because he’s just too busy with raising his child, the fact that he places “acting like a man” so far down his priority list is refreshing.
I also quickly put together that this particular character trait of his is one of my favorite things about him.
“Thank you, Xaden.” My chest quakes as I let out a shakey breath. “I appreciate it more than you know.”
His brows furrow together, that particular side of his mouth lifting and making his dimple stand out.
“I have a vague notion. I’m only glad that I can help. But it shouldn’t take another man stepping in for one to listen.”
My eyes burn at that, the tears gathering at the corners. “No, it really shouldn’t.”
“Hey,” Xaden reaches out, taking my hand, “you’re safe now. I promise.”
I entwine my fingers through his, wanting so badly to lose myself in the feeling of security he offers. He feels like comfort and familiarity and the peace that I’ve been striving for my entire life.
In the silence of the car, he holds my hand, his other arm wrapping around my shoulder as he pulls me against his chest.
I know that I should probably refuse it to keep our relationship more professional than what it’s becoming, but I don’t want to.
I want this. I want Xaden’s touch, his soothing after a gut punch of a situation.
A few moments go by, and we haven’t separated. I can feel the air charged with the things we haven’t said to each other.
There’s something about going through a traumatic event that makes you want to spill your guts and yell out all the things you’ve been leaving unsaid.
Maybe it’s the way it reminds me of how little time we really do have. Maybe it’s because I’ve been feeling vulnerable and scared so much more recently because of my father’s release.
But whatever it is, I feel like I can’t hold this desire back any longer. I want to give in to it. I don’t want to be strong and capable.
I want to be frightened and accept the physical comfort of a man who I’ve been dreaming about for days.
“Xaden,” my voice barely breaks the air, “can you just…”
He leans back, staring down into my eyes, and shit, why are they so blue? It makes it impossible to think.
Still, my expression—and perhaps the fact that I have yet to move away from him—seems to give away at least part of what I’m thinking.
“Ivy, I…” He sighs, hanging his head. “Dammit. This is so not what I’m supposed to be feeling right now. Or ever for that matter.”
The butterflies in my stomach swoop, tangling together with the left-over shock and ever-present paranoia that’s been dogging me.
“Feel what exactly?”
I’m struck by the fact that I had the balls to ask, but as I wait for Xaden to find the words, I feel like I’m perched at the edge of a cliff.
“Ivy, this…this isn’t easy for me, and I really don’t think this is the time to talk about it.”
He’s right, of course, but I need to hear the words. I need it as much as I need to breathe.
“Please, Xaden. I want to hear the truth. I…please, it’s never the right time. If we wait for that, we’ll be waiting forever.”
He sighs, his sad smile making the deep blues of his eyes stand out. He’s so beautiful, and I lean closer to him, letting his arms take my weight.
“Ever since I saw you that day when you moved in and thought I was some asshole, I’ve been thinking about you. Keeping you out of my head has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I can’t say I’ve been very successful.”
The laugh that leaks from me is quiet and profound.
“I’m very aware of what the rules say, Ivy. I know what I’m supposed to do here, what I’m supposed to do whenever you’re around. But it is so damn difficult. And you have to know I didn’t plan for this when I hired you. It’s always been about finding the perfect person to look after Daisy. It’s just…”
Silence sweeps back in, dark as the night around us, and my nerves hum with tension. Xaden’s muscles are taught where I grip his forearms, my little fingers digging into his flesh just enough.
We’re so close.
“Just what?”
I lean into Xaden, enough that I can feel his breath ghost over my face.
God, his lips. I want to…
“I think you might also be…” Xaden’s eyes flick downward, and when they reach mine again, I can see a glassy sheen over his cerulean irises, his face a mask of vulnerability. “The perfect person for me, too.”
As much as I might have been expecting something of the sort—if far less… intense —the words hit me like a rubber band snapping my skin.
“Xaden, I?—”
He shakes his head. “No, don’t. Really. I have zero expectations from you, and I know what our situation is.”
I don’t know what I want at that moment. I hear Xaden’s words, and they’re so true. Still, I’m not sure I care what our situation is.
But Jesus, this isn’t the time to be thinking about all this. I was just…the bar and coming home, there’s too much muddling the waters for me to say I’m making a sound judgment call.
So, I fall back on one of the skills that I honed the sharpest over the years, and I distance myself.
“Thank you. Umm, I should go inside. I…I need to rest. You’re right.”
He does an excellent job of hiding the slight fall to his expression, keeping nearly every bit of his disappointment to himself.
I just happen to know what to look for, and I recognize the brave face Xaden is putting on.
“Of course. Go on, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Nodding, I reach for the handle of his car and push the door open. My body is tingly and numb except for the center of my chest, which feels like I’ve swallowed a golf ball.
“Good night, Xaden.”
He nods this time. “Good night, Ivy.”
I get out of the car and walk up the steps of my porch without looking back over my shoulder.
It’s not until I’ve unlocked my door and I can hear Xaden’s car turning around in my driveway that I turn back to watch him leave.
Being next door, he just pulls out onto the highway to cross the short distance and then down his driveway to park. He gets out of the car and looks over at me, offering a little wave.
As I mirror the gesture, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I never turned on “do not disturb,” and somehow, I know it isn’t Sam.
When I pull out my cell and take a peek, I hate that I’m right. The unknown number, which is not saved in my phone but recognizable all the same, has texted me again.
I will find you, Vivi. We’re far from done.
A sob tears from my throat, and I stuff my phone back in my pocket to head inside.
It’s a matter of moments before I have everything locked up again, but I can’t bring myself to climb the rickety stairs to my room.
Instead, I slowly walk across the wood floors, newly refinished thanks to a contractor that Xaden knew, and force myself to get on my small couch.
The couch that I still haven’t paid off yet and is billed to me each month on the fifteenth.
He can’t find me. He can’t find Jas.
But what exactly am I supposed to do about it? I have no idea where my father is, and I really don’t think these texts are going to be enough to put him back behind bars.
Tears roll across my nose as I lie on the couch, draping my thin throw blanket over me. I have the morning off tomorrow, and I just hope that I can get some sleep so that I’m not a total wreck.
Still, knowing my luck, I’ll be treated to an evening full of nightmares.
The one man in the entire world I want to trust is right next door, and it’s the one man I can never trust—who’s God knows where—still keeping me from him.