17. Ivy
Chapter seventeen
Ivy
Age Nineteen
I've dreamed all year of coming back here, and now that I'm here, I'm terrified and sick, my stomach twisting at the thought of seeing them again. The last time I saw Monty, he was slipping out my bedroom window without so much as a backward glance while my dad tried to beat the door down from the other side. I thought about writing to him this time. I know his address, obviously, but I threw away every letter I tried to pen, feeling dumber and dumber with every page I ripped from the notebook.
I won't go out of my way to find them, but as I step out onto the road, I know they'll find me. They always do.
It's the first time I've been out of the house all summer after spending the past week in the cellar, curled into a ball to try and fight off the chill trying to slip past my naked flesh and sink into my bones. I breathe in the fresh air, glad to be rid of the musty scent of whatever mold is growing on the damp walls of my family cabin, and set off down the hill to the creek. It's technically private property, an outlet from the lake down the road, but the owners have never particularly cared about people cooling off in it. I also happen to know they're spending the summer in the city, visiting their daughter, so I won't draw any unnecessary attention by going for a swim.
It's quiet on the mountain, a sleepy summer evening melting into a dusky night as I walk down the gravel, my sandals slipping against the rocks that have fallen loose from the hillsides. The stars look close tonight, like the world is closing in around me despite feeling freer than I have since last summer.
When I spot the little blue car hanging in the trees, I approach it, letting my toes creep over the edge of the road. The door fell off entirely at some point, carried away by rust and gravity, and it allows me to see the interior of the car, dark blood mixing with dirt on the passenger side window—the only one in the entire car that hasn't been shattered yet. It seems like some kind of bad joke that it's all that remains of the carnage, as if the absolutely brutal death of the woman in that car meant nothing. I know it didn't because that's just the way of the world.
The men have the power, and they fight each other for more of it while playing with us little women-folk like living dolls. We’re toys that they can bend into whatever shape they want, even if it breaks them, and they can put us away when they're done with us. It's what my father has done to my mother for as long as I've been alive, and it's what they've both done to me. And they've made it clear that it's what my husband will do to me, too. They've planned my life for me, and I guess I just have to wait for it all to unfold, because that's what I am supposed to do.
The second time I tried to run away, I learned it was useless to think that there was anything out in the world for me other than the path my parents have defined for me. That time, I tried to run in the city, thinking I could get to the train station with the money I'd earned by pawning the locket they gave me for my sixteenth birthday. That was months ago, but my ribs still hurt when I breathe too deeply. I could have probably gotten away with just the broken arm from the man who dragged me back home, but when my dad realized I'd pawned the locket, his Italian leather shoes caught me in the ribs... over and over.
College is a waste for a woman of your class, my mother had said when I tried to appeal to her about letting me go off to NYU. You'll simply marry and keep your husband happy and give up on any dream of anything beyond that.
I didn't dare tell her that she didn't make my father happy, that I was pretty sure she never had.
I've grown increasingly more numb over the last year, and especially after her kicking me down the cellar steps because she found my vibrator, a gift from a friend with a wicked sense of humor. So, when I slide more of my foot over the edge, testing the strength of the rocks not to give way beneath me and send me tumbling down to my death, I'm not surprised that it doesn't ignite anything inside of me. Not fear at the thought of it all ending, not excitement at the idea of freedom, not even satisfaction at the mental image of them trying to put me back together for my casket like Humpty Dumpty.
That's why I step away from the edge and carry on down the road, my speed increasing as gravity helps me down the hill.
The Holmes property has always been peaceful, but it's blunted this time by everything else as I stumble toward the creek, the sound of the water guiding me through the dusky night. I can see a reflection of the moonlight rippling on the surface. It calls me forward like a siren song that has me shed my clothing, leaving it on the rock that typically serves as a drink and cell phone holder.
The water is cool when I step into it, almost invigorating. It awakens something that's been dormant for a while, something that I don't even know the name of. As I sink the rest of the way into the water, I feel it easing the tension and pain in my body, whispering like a salve for my soul. The water isn't deep, covering me up to my breasts, and if I bend my knees, I can sink them under the surface too.
I duck my head under, letting the water baptize me, washing away the last year as I hold myself under, enjoying the way my head slowly empties of thoughts as one thing takes precedence in my brain. My lungs ache with a burn that I control, and I feel the desperation reaching through me, filling me up with a buoyant need to rise back above the surface. I hold it off as long as I can, but the human body is focused on survival even when the brain isn't.
I break above the water, my toes pushing against the silt and rocks on the riverbed to push me out faster.
I suck in a deep breath, my lungs screaming for the air I've been denying them, as the warm air caresses my wet, bare skin from my waist up.
It's as I'm shaking droplets of water out of my eyes that I hear the music. Bodies by Drowning Pool blares from somewhere beyond the trees, and as I turn my head toward the road, expecting to see their car passing, my eyes land on them.
There's four of them. The reapers—Theo, Monty, and Killian, with his thick arm wrapped around the shoulder of a blonde girl whose tits are pushed up to her chin in the red crop top she's got on.
I drop into the water, letting it hide my breasts even as I move my arms across my chest, feeling my tight nipples drag against my skin. My cheeks burn, and it's not just with embarrassment, though I do feel a little strange about the busty blonde seeing me topless. I burn with jealousy, having no doubt about what they’re here for. The three of them are coming here to fuck her, to play with her, to love on her. They’ve replaced me.
My mother's made idle gossip about all of the neighbors and their miscreant sons, who apparently all fuck each other and anything that moves. I think my mother might be jealous, honestly, that she can't get any out here, and so she takes it out on the neighbors for having sons who dare to do sexual things. While my mother had made it sound as if they were having massive orgies on the regular, I suspect the truth is something much more intimate... that they're sharing.
"You're back." Killian says plainly, his voice betraying exactly as much emotion as his dark face, which is to say none.
"Hey, Tiger Lily," Theo calls out, playful as he strips his shirt above his head, needing no further invitation.
My eyes meet with Monty's as he stares at me, slack jaw, and I dart my tongue over my lips to ease the dryness there. There's so many things that could be said, but so many things that I don't know how to say. It doesn't matter, because Theo steps out of his jeans and boxers all at once and wades in to greet me, and I stare down at the surface of the water as he barely covers himself with his hands.
"Theo." I say, my tongue feeling oddly heavy as he sinks down into the water in front of me.
"The water's deeper back here." He says, tipping his head behind him to indicate the area away from the house, folded deeper in shadows. His hand moves slowly through the water, and he holds it out for me, palm up, to take, so I do. We wobble awkwardly deeper in the stream, until I can feel the riverbed getting further out of the reach of my toes, and we can both straighten.
"You look good, Ivy." Theo's voice is husky, making my body tighten as his gaze dips to the space between us.
I'm opening my mouth to say something, but the sound of more people splashing into the water steals my attention back to where Monty, Killian, and the blonde girl are all wading into the water too, each one of them entirely naked. The girl has her tits covered by her arm, at least, but as she tries to find her footing on the rocky surface below her, she throws her arms out, and I get a good view of her in all her glory.
As they move toward me, the girl doesn't take her eyes off me, and I don't dare look at any of them, focusing on the water rippling as I drag my hand across the top of it. I should make a run for it, but I'd have to go past them to do it. And besides, I don't want them to see that I'm bothered by the presence of the girl they brought with them tonight.
"Didn't think you'd show your face around here after last time, Bambi." Killian's breath hits my neck, sending a violent chill down my spine as he stops just in front of me, as if he ran into me in the grocery store rather than finding me skinny-dipping in our neighbors’ backyard.
"I didn't have much choice." I tell him, noting the hungry look in his eyes. If I hadn’t gotten my hair wet, it would drape right over my breasts, offering me a second layer of protection. I feel too exposed to him, too vulnerable.
"Mmm." He nods and then flicks his gaze to the girl at his side. "This is Tilly."
Tilly smiles at me, though she looks a little confused by my presence.
“Bambi?" She asks, as if she really thinks that's my name.
"Ivy." I manage a smile for her and then gather the courage to find Monty, his keen eyes taking in every inch of me that he can see, as if he's looking for anything new.
"I love that name!" Tilly says excitedly, taking a step closer. "It suits you."
I can't decide whether that's supposed to be a compliment or an insult, so I just muster another small smile and glance behind them, trying to gauge the distance to the shore where I can reasonably climb out.
"So does Bambi." Killian says, his fingers on the side of Tilly's head guiding her closer to his mouth, where he presses an oddly possessive kiss against her cheek. That kiss makes me question everything. "She's always trying to run. Even right now."
I swallow as Tilly chuckles, appraising me.
"I don't bite." Her voice is soft and sweet, almost melodic as she moves closer to me, and I freeze, not sure where to go. I find myself staring at her as she moves toward me, nipping gently at her bottom lip in an ironic contradiction to her previous statement.
When her hand slips around the back of my waist, I stiffen, confused, and her giggle echoes against my skin as she pulls me against her. "Are you scared?"
I'm terrified, but not of her. I just don't understand the heat pooling low inside me, the sudden spike of desire, the fire on my skin where her fingers are sliding down my shoulder.
"No." I say, realizing I've waited a beat too long to answer.
"Don't be." She smiles, and then her lips are on mine, and she's stealing my breath.
I feel Theo move behind me, his arms wrapping against me as Tilly's tongue swipes over my lips, stealing permission to enter before I can even think about denying. As her tongue slides against mine, I can taste the wine she must have had before she came here, sweet and fragrant, and as she deepens the kiss and my defenses slip away, I wonder just how much of it she's drunk and how often she makes out with girls she's never met.
But Tilly is a good enough kisser that I don't care to question why she's doing this. She dismantles my defenses, making me hungry for more of whatever spell she's putting on me. I'm hyper aware of every movement of her tongue and Theo's touch, and the hard nudge of his dick against my ass that makes a little moan slip out of me, a sound that encourages Tilly to slip her hands between my legs.
No sooner does her palm skate against my clit, making me suck in a deep breath, than her lips disappear. I hear the sound of her body moving through water as Killian whips her away from me, crashing his mouth against hers in a kiss that looks so violent, I actually shudder. My lips are swollen, tingling from where her kiss left me wanting more, and my body aches as he practically devours her.
Jealousy and lust war with my common sense and my mother's voice in the back of my head, calling me a filthy whore as I watch him ravish her. They move in a tangle of lips and limbs, Killian pushing her toward the riverbank. Monty moves away, heading back the way we came in as Theo skates a hand over my ass, his fingers twitching and making my breathing pick up.
"You like watching, Tiger Lily?" He hums against my neck, his hot breath making me clench. "Well, just keep watching, 'cause you're about to witness the best show of your life."
Shame thunders through my bloodstream, hand in hand with the desire as Killian presses Tilly against the ground, her face against the dirt, so that she has to turn her cheek to the rocks as Killian lines himself up behind her. Her eyes are closed as he rolls the condom on, her mouth open, and for a moment, I think she looks like she isn't enjoying herself as much as she's pretending to.
And then Killian must slam into her, because her eyes fly open and lock with me as he grips her by the hair, pulling so that his grip forces her back to arch.
Her tits bounce and slap in the air as he pounds her body again and again, each thrust making her body quake and pulling sounds of absolute pleasure from her. I doubted it for a minute, but unless she's a Golden Globe nominee, she's very much enjoying herself. She's so loud that Killian tells Monty to shut her up, and Monty strides through the water, his hands below the surface as he approaches them. For a minute, I think he's going to gag her or something, but then he grips the back of her head, taking over for Killian, and plunges her head under the water. He holds her down a second until she calms, and then he groans in obvious pleasure, his hips buck, and I realize he's fucking her mouth under the water.
The jealousy somehow makes me ache more, clenching around the hollow feeling inside me, the places where I've been empty far too long, starved of all the right kinds of attention.
"You're getting a private show, Ivy." Theo whispers, his fingertips skating up the flat expanse of my stomach to wrap around one breast and making me gasp a little. "Shh," he whispers, releasing his grip far too soon. "Focus."
I don't know how I'm supposed to focus with all of the things warring inside of me, but I try, watching Tilly's back arch and her spine straighten as I imagine she's exhausting her lung capacity. When I think she's surely going to drown on Monty's cock, he stops thrusting, groaning out his release, and then pulls her, gasping and choking, out of the water. He pins her back down a minute while Killian drives himself closer to orgasm, and she focuses on trying to breathe again, water streaming off her face and something shining on her lips. Black streaks from her mascara drip like blood down her pale cheeks, and while she struggles to learn how to breathe above water again, she also groans with pleasure as Killian smashes his hips against hers.
He regains the grip he had on her hair, arching her back and exposing more of her, and her pants come faster, her moans rolling into a sound like thunder.
"Fuck, baby." She cries, and all the arousal that's been pooling in me is extinguished as jealousy overpowers it, dampening the mood. I turn to look away, but Theo sets me straight, his big hands framing my face. From the corner of my eye, I see him lick his lips in anticipation, and I watch through the tears burning my eyes as Killian drives himself to the edge.
I don't realize what it is at first, when Monty passes something to him and Killian palms it, getting a grip on it.
The moonlight glints on something silver as Tilly screams and Killian grunts out his release. And then I see the blade move across her throat, blood splashing across her naked breasts and raining into the water. I suck in a breath, prepared to scream myself, but Theo's big hand covers my mouth, and his arm around my neck holds me hostage to witness as Killian slows, the water easing as he nears the end. His hand in Tilly's hair stays, keeping her upright as he slides out of her and straightens, letting out a shaky breath.
I watch as Tilly's wide eyes lose the light, realization dawning on her a moment before me that this was fucking real.
She's dead, and Killian acts as if it's no big deal, sliding his fingers over the blade to wipe it clean of the bright red blood.
"Don't fucking call me baby."