23. Ivy
TWENTY-THREE
IVY
There is no blood on my hands, but my skin feels coated in it. He saved us, and he almost died in the process.
He still could be dead.
I rub my neck, the tension so tight, I can barely turn it without pain.
How long have I been sitting here?
How long have I been waiting for him to wake up?
How long can I wait before my control slips?
The room is dark other than a light hanging above the steel exam table. Pictures of golden retrievers and posters about worming cover the walls. But it’s the dogs barking somewhere down the hall that shreds my nerves.
We should’ve gone to the hospital.
If he dies because his doctor is an expert in fucking poodles and not humans, I’ll kill Mace.
“Do you want another coffee?” Maylie’s soft voice draws my attention, but I don’t take my eyes off the wall in front of me.
I shake my head. “No, thanks.” I glance at her as she sits. “You should go home, get some rest.”
She rubs a hand over her stomach. “I’m fine.”
“At least find somewhere to lie down for an hour.”
She peers around the room, wrinkling her nose. “I’ll just grab a kennel, shall I? Do you think Bruce the bulldog will mind sharing?”
“That’s not funny,” I mutter.
She nudges my shoulder. “Mace said he’s an actual doctor, Ivy. He used to be some fancy surgeon before he got struck off for misconduct. I don’t think he does any vet stuff, just owns the building.”
And patches up bleeding bikers.
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” My tone is flat as anxiety curls in my stomach the longer he’s gone.
“Your husband has a lot of explaining to do,” I say, leaning my head back against the wall behind me.
We both knew the club was dodgy, but this… this is a whole other level.
“I told him that no matter what, I’m delivering my baby in a hospital with midwives.” She snorts, bemused. Her exhale is long. “The question is, do we have to buy Riot a collar and squeaky toy?”
I laugh, and shit, it feels good to let it out. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I couldn’t stop the bleeding, couldn’t wake him.
I don’t remember Mace getting there or the ride to the clinic.
All I could think was that I can’t lose him.
“Did you ever think our lives would be like this?”
Maylie considers this for a moment. “No, but I don’t hate it either. Mace makes everything better.”
I feel the same about Riot.
Those moments when we’re just existing in each other’s space are my favourite. Laughing at stupid movies, hanging out and talking nonsense… he’s the other half of me.
But he lied.
Yeah, he did. But sitting here, wondering if he’s going to make it, I can’t bring myself to care.
I try to imagine how Jackson would have handled Link’s lunatic brother. I doubt he would have put himself between us and a knife.
Ice crawls along my skin. Please come back to us, Riot.
As if she senses my thoughts, Maylie grabs my hand, squeezing it gently between her fingers. “He’ll be okay.”
“I know.” My voice cracks. “He doesn’t have a choice.”
“So… you and Riot? I can’t believe we didn’t see it. I mean, I knew you had a crush, but I didn’t know you were together.”
“We didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“Love’s rarely intentional.”
My leg bounces as I stare at the door, like Riot will just materialise. “Is Mace still pissed?”
He’d interrogated me about our relationship the moment Riot was wheeled into surgery.
She smiles, as she always does when talking about him. “He’s worried for you, that’s all. His brother doesn’t exactly have the best reputation.”
My chest warms. “He doesn’t need to protect me. Riot’s… different. He takes care of me.”
And that’s the truth.
He’s always taken care of me. He’s always been there. Even when I wasn’t his.
I just want him to be okay. I need him to be okay. There’s no world in which he’s not at my side.
“I love him,” I admit in a whisper.
Maylie’s eyes soften. “I can tell.”
“I chose him, May.”
She nods. “These men aren’t easy to be with. If you want to be with Riot, you have to accept all the parts of his life that he’s involved in, even the bits you don’t like.” Her shoulders tense, and she bites a nail. “There’s something I need to tell you, and you’re going to hate me when you hear it.”
I already know what she’s going to say. I’ve been running it over in my head in the hours I’ve been waiting.
Mace killed Link. It’s the only thing that makes sense with everything I know about that day. I don’t know what my ex did to my sister in that room. I don’t want to know either.
My family took care of her. Just as Riot took care of me and Seren.
“I don’t care.”
And I don’t. Link was a monster. Whatever happened to him was deserved, and Riot was right when he said I didn’t need to know. I already have enough nightmares.
I lean my head on her shoulder and breathe. She strokes my hair, and I relax. “I won’t tell you then, but I will ask that you forgive yourself, Ivy. Nothing that happened was your fault.”
My chest aches at her words. “I’m trying.”
She nudges me with her elbow. “Try harder.”
“How do I tell my daughter that her father was a monster?”
“You don’t. You tell her that she’s loved by everyone in her life and that’s what matters.”
I rest my hand on her belly, where my nephew is growing. There was a time when it felt like it was the three of us—me, Maylie, and Toby—against the world. It doesn’t feel like that any longer.
The baby kicks under my hand, and I smile. “Someone is awake.”
She groans. “He’ll be dancing on my bladder in the next half-hour.”
The door opens suddenly, and Mace steps inside holding my daughter. The relief in his face eases the bands around my ribs. “He’s out of surgery.”
I come to my feet so fast, my head rushes. “Is he okay?”
“So far, so good.”
I rush to the room, desperate to lay eyes on him, but I pause for a few breaths. The last time I saw him, he was soaked in blood, unmoving.
He’s okay.
He’s okay.
Then I step inside.
His head is tilted to the side, and wires trail from under the sheets covering his body. He looks like him, but vulnerable in a way I hate.
I sink into the chair at the side of the bed and slip my hand into his. He’s warm, and that calms the frantic beat of my heart.
I watch him sleeping, counting every rise of his chest. The doctor comes in a few times, but I wait for his eyes to open.
Exhaustion sits on my eyes, and I can barely keep them open.
“Vee?”
His cracked voice slams through the fog, and I yank my head up.
That dimple I fucking love is the first thing I see, then his eyes, dazed and glassy.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“Just you.”
His eyes flutter closed, and I wait for them to open again, but they stay shut.
So, I continue to wait. The hours crawl by, and the clinic stays shut even as the working day starts.
I doze, snatching minutes where I can, and when he opens his eyes again, they’re clearer.
“Hey.” I move closer to the trolley.
“Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. Seren too.” I push his hair off his forehead. “You scared me.”
“I was scared too.”
I don’t think. I fuse our mouths together like he’s the reason I’m breathing. It’s a desperate, needy, unrefined kiss, but I soak him in.
He’s alive.
Every inch of my body relaxes, knowing he’s okay. It could have easily gone the other way. I could have lost him. I could be sitting here looking at an empty table.
When he lets me go, his chest’s heaving and his face is pale. “Just had to do that in case you never let me do it again.”
I’ve never seen him so raw, so exposed. It’s the drugs, but it cracks my chest open.
I cup his face with my hands, pressing our foreheads together as I try to calm myself.
“I don’t want you to ever stop kissing me.”
Hope dances in his eyes. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“Fuck.” He holds my hands against his face. “I fuckin’ love you.”
“I love you too. I thought I lost you.”
“I’ll never go somewhere you can’t follow.”
He pulls me onto the bed, wincing.
“What are you doing? You’ll pop your stitches.”
“I don’t care.” He settles me against his side so my head is resting on his chest. I don’t know where to put my hands, but he puts me where he wants me.
I just breathe him in.
Nothing else matters. We’ll have to talk about it eventually, but not today. Not now. Riot saved my life. He protected my daughter.
Facing losing him sharpened everything into focus.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you too.” He presses a kiss into my hair.
We lie together until my eyes get heavy and sleep tugs me under. When I dream, it’s not of monsters or pain. It’s of this moment, when I realised what it feels like to be truly loved.