Chapter 15 – IVY
Chapter
Fifteen
IVY
The next day, I sleep in until noon.
I groan and roll over in bed, not wanting to wake up.
I’m not sure I want to see Venom. How can I face him again after what happened yesterday between us. There’s too much to process. The things I’m feeling are still too confusing, even more so as I wake up and realize that was not some fucked up dream. It really happened.
I keep expecting to feel anger at the memories, but I don’t. I can’t. Maybe I’m more fucked up than I thought.
My stomach growls.
I open my door and find a couple of plastic bags filled with items on the floor in front of me. I peek in and find a note.
These arrived this morning. The butter and eggs are in the fridge.
-V
I’d forgotten all about the things I ordered for Evelyn’s cake. I’d been so worked up that it completely slipped my mind I was supposed to be doing something nice for her birthday. The realization makes me feel like shit.
She cared for me when I almost died. She worried about me. She’s treated me with nothing but kindness.
The least I could’ve done was wait until after her birthday before trying to run away.
I drop the bags in my room and head downstairs. In the fridge, a plate waits with a sandwich and a sticky note in Evelyn’s handwriting. I smile and grab it.
I’m just finishing the last bite when Venom walks into the kitchen—gray sweatpants, black tank top.
My eyes widen at what else is draped over him: a blue snake, coiled around his muscular bicep, its head resting where his shoulder meets his neck.
He doesn’t say a word. Just grabs a water bottle and leaves.
No glance, no acknowledgment. As if I’m invisible.
But the moment he stepped in, my heart started racing. My thighs clenched. Nerves fluttered where anger used to sit.
Jesus, Ivy. One orgasm and you forget he’s your captor.
Except… maybe he’s been more than that. Or less. Maybe I’ve been seeing this wrong. Maybe he’s been keeping me safe—safe from what’s out there, safe from myself and the mistakes I’d make.
He’s never hurt me unless I struck first. He pulled me out of that hole. Saved my life twice when he could’ve let me die. He clothed me, gave me a room, fed me meals better than I’ve had in years. More freedom than I’d known.
My anger blinded me. Whatever hypnosis or voodoo he worked yesterday, it’s left me seeing clearer. I’ve been a bratty beast.
I clean my plate and slip back to my room. I know I need to talk to Venom, but I’m not ready to meet his eyes yet.
When I’m sure Evelyn’s asleep—and hopefully Venom too—I take my bags of groceries to the kitchen, ready to bake her birthday cake.
Thankfully, I bought everything I need to make it from scratch. I combine the wet and dry ingredients, stirring quietly, when a door closes somewhere down the hall.
Shit.
Venom strolls into the kitchen and stops when he sees me, looking just as surprised as I am.
I quickly avert my gaze.
“What are you doing?” he asks softly.
“Making Evelyn’s cake.”
“At this hour?”
“Well, I didn’t want her to see. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”
He steps around me, his arm lightly brushing against me as he passes, and it sends a burst of warmth through me.
“You’re making it from scratch?”
“I am.”
“How’d you get a recipe?”
I tap my head. “It’s all in here. A recipe my mother taught me.” He nods and then his expression shifts to a faraway look.
“Were you close?” The words come out too soft, almost a whisper.
“For a short time, I guess. We used to bake together often. They’re the only good memories I have of her before she died of an overdose.”
I glance over and find him leaning against the counter, arms crossed, his expression distant, thoughtful.
“How old were you?”
“Twelve. I had a few different foster families until I turned eighteen.”
“They didn’t treat you well,” he says it more like a statement of fact rather than a question.
“Nope. My anger only progressively got worse.”
“A hard life can do that to a person.”
“Sounds like you would know, except, you don’t seem angry.”
“Once upon a time I was, but I channeled it into something. Something a bit more wicked.” He grins.
I dump the mixture into the cake pan and slide it into the oven. I begin cleaning up when I notice he’s still watching me.
“Enjoying the show?”
“Quite.”
I roll my eyes.
“Don’t you have something else to do?” I’m starting to get more uncomfortable with his lingering presence. Memories from yesterday keep flashing in my mind.
“You look a little flushed, darlin’. Are you alright?” he asks with an amused grin.
“I’m really not in the mood for your games right now.” He doesn't respond, just continues staring at me with a tilt. “Look, I know we need to talk about what happened, but—”
“But?”
“I just… I can’t right now, okay?” I’m feeling more overwhelmed. My hands beginning to tremble.
How can he so easily stir the chaos within me all while looking unaffected. He’s the definition of cool, calm, and collected.
“Now seems like as good a time as any.”
“No.” God, I swear the room is getting hotter, must be the oven. I’m feeling desperate for fresh air.
He takes a step closer, and I move to the other side of the room. He follows.
Dammit, why can’t he just let me be!
I hold up a trembling hand. “Stop. Don’t come any closer.” He continues stalking toward me like a predator to their prey. “I mean it, Venom!” I should just run back to my room right now and lock the door, but before making that decision, he reaches me as my back hits the wall.
Smirking, he presses his body into mine.
In a panic, my hand snaps out and cracks against his cheek, jerking his head to the side. Slowly, he turns back to me, his expression unreadable. Then his hand clamps around my jaw with a firm grip and he leans close. “Slap me again and I’ll consider it foreplay.”
“Fuck you.” My tone doesn't carry the same harshness it once did, and I pray he doesn’t notice.
“Say please.”
“You disgust me,” I lie.
“Your body sings a different tune, darlin’. I think we established that yesterday, right?”
I hate that he’s right. Every time he’s close, every time those eyes caress over me, my anger wants to dissolve. I want to just let go and surrender to him. Especially now, after yesterday, I’m just left wanting.
I’m a match, wanting nothing more than to be set ablaze by him. But I’ll be damned if I admit that right now.
“Let me go, Venom.”
He leans into my ear and whispers, “If there’s something you desire, use your manners, little beast.”
As he pulls away, his lips graze my cheek and my knees weaken. His gaze drops to my mouth, parted as I drag in quick, shallow breaths, before rising to meet his eyes again. I summon what strength I have left to shove off the wall and try to escape him… escape this.
Whatever this is between us.
He quickly moves his hand from my jaw down to my neck and slams me back. I grunt and look at him through watery eyes. Why am I about to cry? I’m tougher than this. I’ve been through worse; I remind myself.
But it’s him. Not my foster parents, not Nikolai, not the redneck couple.
Him.
I can’t handle these feelings he drags out of me. I can’t take any of this anymore. I feel like I’m losing my sanity… what little there is left.
Every pounding heartbeat pushes me closer to the edge.
I don’t want to fight him anymore.
I’m exhausted.
His wicked blue eyes bore into me, sending chills through my body. His lips hover above mine and I close my eyes for a moment before I open them back up and try pleading with him.
“Please, Venom,” I whisper.
Then his lips crash against mine, rough and unyielding.