Chapter 39
IVY
I walk through my childhood home for the last time. Today I pass the keys off to the new owners who are meeting me here with the realtor. Since the offer I accepted on the house was so much more than I needed, I decided it was easier to donate everything inside. The place was emptied a few days ago and I felt nothing at all as I watched as everything was removed. Sawyer offered to help me go through my room, but the only things I wanted to keep were the photos on my pushpin board. Saying goodbye to this place today is the last big hurdle I need to get over to move completely on, to let it all go.
I stand in the empty living room, looking over the barren space when a hand slaps around my mouth and I’m hauled into a pair of strong arms.
“Hello, my darling. Miss me?”
My heart stops beating and sinks into the pit of my stomach.
Brooks.
Fuck. This can’t be happening.
I try to jerk out of his hold when I feel the cold press of a gun to my temple. All the blood drains from my face.
“Tsk. Tsk. Nope. I don’t think so. You won’t be getting away from me this time, Ivy. You’ve been a very bad girl. You’ve got some apologizing to do, darling. Let’s get home, shall we? Scream and I shoot you. Try to run and I shoot you. And then I’ll come back and kill that pathetic piece of shit you let touch you. Got it? Nod if you understand.”
My stomach turns and bile rises up my throat. I do my best to hold it down and try to keep a level head. Knowing I don’t have any other options, with a gun pointed at my skull, I nod in understanding. He slowly releases his hold from around my mouth only to grab a fistful of my hair in a bruising grip. I wince at the sting on my scalp. I need to think. How am I going to get out of this? My entire body shakes with fear and shock. Sawyer. Oh god, Sawyer. He’s going to think I ran again. I do my best to turn and face Brooks. He looks nothing like the man I spent nearly a year of my life with. His expertly styled hair is a mess of blond that peeks out from under a baseball cap, his eyes are dark and empty, devoid of any emotion. His normal attire of dress pants, button-up shirt, and jacket is replaced with denim jeans and a baggy black sweatshirt.
“Brooks. Please. Please. I can’t go with you. Please don’t do this.”
The slap comes unexpectedly and with no time to brace for it. The force of the blow is so hard it sends me stumbling to the left before I fall to the ground with a cry. The sting is immediate as the burn spreads across my face. I wipe the blood from my split lip, tears pooling behind my eyes involuntarily. Shock keeps me frozen to the ground, my hand splayed across my tender cheek.
I can’t leave with him.
Fight, Ivy. You have to fight.
For you and Sawyer.
For your future.
No one is going to take your life from you again.