Chapter 4 - Ivy #2
"Now we prepare." Phoenix glances around the room, his expression hardening. "We make sure we're ready for whatever they throw at us. Make sure you're safe, make sure the club is secure, make sure we have plans and backup plans."
"And me? What do I do?"
"You stay here. Stay safe. Let us handle the rest."
I should be grateful for that. Should be relieved that I don't have to do anything except hide behind these men and their protection.
But part of me, the part that spent two years learning to survive, rebels against the idea of being passive.
Of letting other people fight my battles while I cower in a bedroom upstairs.
"I want to help," I say.
"You are helping." Judge's voice is kind. "By being here, by giving us a reason to finally deal with the Vipers, you're helping more than you know."
It doesn't feel like enough. Doesn't feel like I'm doing anything except causing problems and expecting other people to solve them.
Phoenix must see something in my face because his expression softens.
"You've been through hell," he says. "You ran from a man who hurt you, drove through the night to get here, showed up at a stranger's door at four in the morning with nothing but hope and desperation. You've done enough, Ivy. Let us do the rest."
I'm not used to kindness, not from men, not from anyone really. The Vipers weren't kind. Cole definitely wasn't kind. The world hasn't been kind to me in a very long time.
But Phoenix looks at me like I'm worth protecting. Like my safety matters, my comfort matters, my fear matters.
I don't know what to do with that.
"Can we—" I stop, swallow, try again. "Can we talk? Just the two of us? I need to understand what this means. What's coming. And I can't—" I glance around the room at eight men watching me. "I can't think straight with everyone staring at me."
It's the truth. The attention is overwhelming, suffocating. I need space to breathe, to process, to understand what I've walked into.
"Of course." Phoenix is already moving toward me, and the other men are tactfully looking away. "Let's go back to your room. We can talk there, one-on-one. No pressure."
No pressure. The words are such a stark contrast to my life with Cole, where everything was pressure and control and fear, that I almost laugh.
Instead, I nod and turn back toward the stairs.
Phoenix follows. Tall, broad and covered in ink. He's dangerous. I can see that in the scars on his knuckles, in the way he holds himself, but the danger isn't directed at me.
It's directed at anyone who tries to hurt me. The distinction matters more than I can articulate.
We reach the room Judge showed me last night, and I push the door open. It's still small and clean and safe, the bed rumpled from where I slept in my clothes, too exhausted and overwhelmed to do anything else.
I turn to face Phoenix, and he's standing in the doorway, not coming in. Giving me space even though I'm the one who asked for this conversation.
"You can come in," I say. "I'm not… I trust you."
The words surprise us both. But they're true. I do trust him, or at least I trust him more than I've trusted anyone in two years. He's kept every promise he's made so far, been honest when he could have lied, gentle when he could have been harsh.
He steps inside and closes the door behind him, then leans against it. Keeping distance between us. Letting me set the boundaries.
"What do you want to know?" he asks.
"Everything," I say. "I want to know what war means. What the Vipers will do. What you're planning to do. What happens to me if—" I stop, because I can't finish that sentence. Can't voice the fear that if this goes badly, I'll end up back with Cole or worse.
"If we lose?" Phoenix finishes for me.
I nod.
"We won't." The certainty in his voice is absolute. "But if somehow we did, if the Vipers overwhelmed us and took this compound, you wouldn't be here. You'd already be gone, hidden somewhere they'd never find you. I'd make sure of it before I let them through the door."
"You'd die for me." It's not a question.
"I'd die for anyone under my protection," he corrects, and it's annoying how handsome he looks while doing it.
"That's what it means to be president of this club.
To be responsible for everyone who wears our patch, everyone who comes to us for help.
Their safety is my responsibility. Their lives are my responsibility. "
"Even mine? Even though I just showed up last night?"
"Especially yours." He holds my gaze, his dark eyes steady.
"Because you came here with nothing, trusting that I'd help you.
Because you're running from men I once called brothers, men who destroyed everything I believed in.
Because every time I look at you, I see every victim the Vipers have created, and I'm reminded why I built this club in the first place. "
He's not just protecting me because it's the right thing to do. He's protecting me because I represent something bigger. A chance to make right what went wrong years ago. A chance to finally deal with Demon and everything he's done.
"I'm not just a woman to you," I say slowly. "I'm a symbol."
"No." His voice is firm. "You're a person. A woman who deserves safety and respect and a life free from fear. It's symmetry, maybe. Justice. But you're not a symbol, Ivy. You're real, and your pain is real, and what happened to you matters because you matter."
I want to believe him. Want to trust that I'm more than just an excuse for a war that was already brewing.
"Tell me about the war," I say. "Tell me what's coming."