34. Hank
Chapter 34
Hank
I ’m chopping wood again. Not because we need it but because I can’t stand being in that house right now.
Each swing of the axe is a release, a way to keep from thinking about Ivy and the mess I’ve made. The logs split with a satisfying crack, but the knot in my stomach refuses to do the same.
I shouldn’t have reacted like that. She’s hiding something; I’ve known that from the start. But she’s never once shown herself to be manipulative or scheming. If anything, I’m the one who’s been a damn fool, letting my guard down and then losing it when things got real.
Pregnant. Fucking twins.
I sink the axe into a stump and wipe the sweat from my forehead. Guilt weighs heavy, and I don’t know how to fix it. I shouldn’t have snapped at Ivy. She didn’t deserve it, and now it’s like there’s this chasm between us.
I look up at the cabin. It’s too quiet, too still, and I can barely bring myself to go inside. But I have to. I head straight to my room where Gremlin and her kittens are stashed away. Gremlin gives me a one-eyed glare. She’s still holding a grudge for the relocation.
“Come on, girl,” I say, scooping her and the kittens into a box. “We’re going for a ride.”
The drive down the mountain is an exercise in brooding. Gremlin meows, unimpressed with my playlist of old country tunes. I turn the volume down and glance at her.
“Not a fan of Merle Haggard, huh?”
She glares at me like. I get it. I’m not too thrilled with myself right now either. We’re both a little rough around the edges, both a little wary of letting people in. I reach over and scratch her behind her half-ear.
The vet’s office is quiet when we get there. The doc takes one look at Gremlin and shakes his head like he can’t believe she’s still kicking. “Tough old gal you’ve got here,” he says as he checks her over.
“Yeah, she’s a real fighter.”
He gives the kittens a quick look, pronouncing them healthy and strong. “You’re going to have your hands full with these little ones. But they are all healthy as can be.”
I nod, more relieved than I care to admit. I load the box back into the truck, feeling a strange sense of pride. Who knew I’d get so attached to a mangy cat and her scrappy brood? Okay, maybe everybody. Holt is right, I do have a thing for strays.
Next stop is the mechanic. I pull up and spot Mason under the hood of a beat-up truck. He straightens when he sees me, wiping his hands on a rag.
“Hey,” I say. I detour to the office to leave the kittens with Lily. She’s tapping away on her laptop, earbuds in, and doesn’t notice me at first.
When she does, her eyes light up. “Kittens!” she squeals, pulling the box closer. “I didn’t know you were a cat person, Hank.”
“Don’t go spreading rumors,” I grumble.
She grins. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
I head back to the garage where Mason is waiting. “How’s it going?” he asks, his tone casual, but I know he’s fishing.
“Fine,” I say, not meeting his eyes.
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. “Got the part for Ivy’s car,” he tells me. “I’ll be working on it next. Should be good to go in a couple of days.”
“That’s great,” I say, trying to sound like I mean it. And I do. I want her to have a way out of here, away from me and my screwed-up reaction. But the thought of her leaving makes my chest feel like it’s caving in.
Mason leans against the truck, studying me. “You sure everything’s fine?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “Just busy.”
“Uh-huh,” he says, clearly not buying it. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”
I nod and head back to the office, dreading the silence of the cabin even more now. Lily is cooing over the kittens, taking pictures with her phone.
“Hey, Hank,” she says, looking up with a smirk. “Want me to send you these? You can put them on your Christmas cards.”
I snort. “I’ll pass.”
I scoop up the box of cats, avoiding her curious gaze. I can’t even deal with my own feelings right now, let alone explain them to someone else. But as I stand, I catch a glimpse of Lily’s laptop screen.
It’s Ivy. But not any Ivy I’ve ever seen.
I’ve known her with no makeup, hair a mess, looking like a natural, girl-next-door kind of beauty. But this...this is different. Her hair is sleek, her eyes a striking green, and she’s dressed like she walked out of a fashion magazine. She’s laughing, surrounded by paparazzi, and there’s a caption about some scandal. A lot of scandals. My brain struggles to catch up.
“What the hell?” I finally blurt, and Lily jumps, nearly knocking over the laptop.
“Oh my God,” she says, eyes wide with panic. “I didn’t think—I promised Ivy I wouldn’t tell!”
“Tell what?” I demand, trying to make sense of everything.
Lily bites her lip, looking torn. “It’s...it’s Ivy,” she says like it should be obvious. “She’s famous. Like, really famous.”
I stare at her, not comprehending. “What do you mean?”
“She’s got this huge reality show,” Lily says, talking fast. “Her whole family does. They’re, like, mega-celebrities. I recognized her, but she asked me not to tell anyone because she’s hiding out from the media.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Famous. Reality show. Hiding. I sink into a chair, trying to process it all. Ivy—our Ivy—is a celebrity. It explains so much and nothing at the same time.