Chapter 20
CALLEN
Ivy hasn’t spoken since Daisy left hours ago. Even her loyal servant, Bram, has been shunned and shut out of her room. He keeps going in every half an hour to check she’s alive. When he’s not sniffing around, Seb is dropping off food like her own personal snack bitch. Man, she has her claws sunk deep into their balls.
“How is she?” Freddie asks.
He, unlike the others, is sensible enough not to disturb her. Not that she’d welcome being around him, anyway.
“The same,” Seb replies glumly.
Since when did our life start revolving around a sexy redhead? Granted, I can’t get her out of my head, but we need to have some fucking dignity. What happened to playing hard to get?
“I have a suggestion.” I roll my eyes. “Maybe you should give her some space. It’s what she wants.”
“How would you feel if you found out your sister was alive and everything you thought you knew was a lie?” Freddie snaps.
I shrug. In my head, I answer: pretty fucking good. If I found out Tilly was alive, I’d be ecstatic. Although Daisy’s survival is good news for Ivy, I can’t trust her or any of the Killers Club scum. The others lapped up their story, but it’s not the first time we’ve trusted the wrong people. Either way, Seb’s made up his mind, so I have to go along for the ride and pick up the pieces if it all goes to shit.
“It’s like a fucking funeral in here,” I say, standing to stretch. “I need some air.”
If we are to believe her, Stephanie should be diverting the Killers Club’s attention away from our hiding spot, so it should be safe to go outside.
“It’d be best if you stayed.”
“I’m not your fucking prisoner, Seb,” I snarl.
He’s my new boss, but no one can cage me. I’m a free spirit. Being stuck inside these four walls is driving me insane, and I’ve eaten my way through the room service menu twice already.
“Don’t go far,” he relents, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle.
I hold up my hand in a Scout’s honour pose and chirp sarcastically, “I won’t, boss.”
I slam the door behind me, deciding to explore the vast hotel instead of going outside, but not because Seb told me to. I just need to catch my breath away from those three arseholes.
I try the emergency fire escape at the end of the corridor and slip into the stairwell unnoticed. Hotels always have a good space on the roof. I climb higher and higher until I reach the top of the staircase. I expect the door leading onto the roof to be alarmed, but it isn’t. I push it open, and a crisp gust of air hits me. I inhale deeply: pollution, homeless people, and rain. We’re far from the Highlands.
Across the roof, a dark figure stands, peering over the edge. Shit. I wanted a breather, not an opportunity to talk someone off a ledge and tell them about how great it is to be alive. I’m about to slink away and leave them to do whatever they came here for when they turn, and I see her red hair rippling in the breeze.
“Callen?” Ivy asks. “How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t,” I reply. “How did you get out?”
She couldn’t have walked out of the suite, otherwise her starry-eyed entourage would be here. Perhaps the others were right to keep checking on her after all.
“The window is a fire escape,” she says. “I needed to breathe.” She turns back to the view. “I was suffocating in there.”
“I hear you,” I say, sauntering over to join her.
The London skyline spans in front of us, and lights glitter in the darkness. If I squint, I can see the outline of Big Ben. We’re above it all, watching the cars crawl beneath us.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Ivy. Her expression stays impassive. Her shoulders are tense, and her jaw sets like we’re about to go to war. What is she thinking? I’d like to burrow into her head to find out, but I won’t ask.
“Your niece is a cute kid,” I say, breaking the silence.
“She liked you, Cally.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter, fighting back a grin.
Daisy’s daughter reminded me of Tilly and how much I missed her. I miss the games, the laughter, the innocence, and how she looked up to me…
“She doesn’t know who I am,” Ivy says. “My niece looks at me like I’m a stranger.”
“Well, you are,” I point out.
“Gee, thanks,” she says. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re shit at making people feel better?”
“If you want someone to tell you everything is going to be okay and kiss your booboo’s better, I’m not your guy, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart.”
“Okay, princess.”
The corners of her mouth twitch. Her glint of a smile makes my cock harden instantly.
“You’re not like the others,” she says. “You probably wanted the Killers Club to kill me.”
“I did,” I agree. “At the start.”
“You’re a real arsehole.”
“So I’ve been told,” I say, leaning against the walled ledge. It’s waist-high and creates a border around the entire roof. “You can push me off if it’ll help?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“One shove is all it’ll take. I’ll go flying and make a pretty mess all over the pavement. Just think about the shocked looks on the chauffeur’s faces when I splatter in front of them. You’d love that.”
“I thought you didn’t want to make me feel better.”
Lies. All fucking lies.
“Look, families are fucked up,” I say, addressing the elephant in the room. “Take my brother, for example. We barely spoke for years. Torean faked his death a few times, but it wasn’t the same. I always knew when he was lying.”
“Stephanie had years to tell me about Daisy,” Ivy says. “I’ve missed out on so much. I could have been there for Daisy after what Spencer did. I could have protected them. We could have been a proper family. Now, I don’t know who she is anymore. She’s my sister, and she’s a killer.”
I grab her chin and force her to look at me. Her eyes blaze with fury—the sexy as fuck kind of fury that drives me wild.
“Have you looked in the mirror lately?” I ask. “Are you the same person you were five years ago?”
“No, but?—”
I drop my hands to my sides and mock, “The world is so fucking unfair, isn’t it? My sister was dead, but now she’s not. Blah, blah, fucking blah. You’re pissed at the Dukes for lying and trying to strike a deal behind your back, but you’d have done the same thing a few months ago. Oh wait, you fucking did! Instead of moaning like a little bitch, maybe you should start appreciating how fucking lucky you are?”
“Lucky?” Her nostrils flare. “You think what happened to me is lucky?”
I’ve really pushed her buttons this time. I drink in her body with my eyes. The flimsy dress and cardigan thrown around her shoulders don’t hide her hard nipples from the chilly breeze.
“Yeah, I do,” I say. “Do you know what I’d give to see the person I loved most in the world again? You have a chance most people never get. Yeah, Daisy’s not the woman you used to know, but neither are you. You’re deadly. You’re a fucking killer.”
“And I’m supposed to suck it up and count my lucky stars?” she says, advancing towards me. “Should I just accept everything that’s happened, forget about it, and move on? It’s not that fucking easy.”
“Would you rather go to therapy and talk it out on the couch?” I goad her. “We have a job to do and a man to kill. We need Ivy Penrose, the killer. Not Ivy Penrose, the girl who Spencer left to die.”
She sees red and slaps me across the face, sending my head flying. The sting of her fingers makes my cheeks burn, and I grin, spitting on the ground at her feet when I straighten.
“Is that the best you got, princess?” I challenge.
She comes at me again, but her movements aren’t calculated because she’s not in the right frame of mind. She needs to do better if she wants to survive taking on the Killers Club. She swings, and I gracefully step out of the way.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” she threatens.
“Do it,” I say. “I’m waiting.”
She charges. I reach to grab her, but she ducks under my arm, coming up behind me and jumping onto my back like a spider monkey. She hooks her arms around my neck and applies pressure, but I lean forward and buck, throwing her off. Ivy drops and lands on the concrete, scraping her knees. She’s breathless as I grab her by her throat.
Her pretty little neck fits perfectly in my grasp, and I force her to her feet. She claws at my arms, tearing at my skin, but I don’t let go and drag her to the edge. I squeeze tighter, making her gasp for air. I wrap her hair around my fist with my other hand and yank her head back hard.
“That’s it, princess…” I whisper. “I want to hear you choke.”
She gurgles something in response that sounds vaguely like, “I hate you.”
I release my grip on her neck long enough to spin her. I push her forward onto the ledge and close the gap between us, straining in my jeans as her round arse squashes my dick.
“I know you,” I say, sweeping one finger along her shoulder. “I know you better than you know yourself. And I know what you need.”
“You don’t know me at all.”
Her breathy, high-pitched voice makes my cock twitch. She could get away, but she doesn’t resist as I undo the button on my jeans.
“I know all about your deepest, darkest desires,” I say. “If you’re not willing to step the fuck up to survive, then maybe I should push you off. Everyone would think it was a suicide.”
My fingers are still laced through her hair, and I pull the back of her dress up with my free hand to expose her.
“No panties,” I purr. “Naughty girl.”
“Cal—”
“Shh,” I command, forcing her forward and holding her down. She’s bent over the ledge, and her head dangles over the side. “Or I’ll let you fall after I fuck you.”