28. Ivy
CHAPTER 28
Ivy
“ W hat was that?”
As soon the boys are gone, I’m left with the Hughes family, all of them looking at me with varying looks of shock, envy, and calculation.
At Beverly’s words, I stare at her, meeting her glare for glare.
“What was what?” I ask nonchalantly.
If she can threaten to use my grandmother and brother for her own means without batting an eyelash, why should I give her an explanation… even if I need one myself about what just happened here.
“How exactly do you know those men?” Beverly demands. “Not only does George Beaumont know you, but both Emmett and Vaughn Easton looked like they were both fixated on you!”
Ah yes. Both Vaughn's and Emmett’s behavior tonight was just mind blowing. I don’t even know how to explain it, but I won’t express that to these people.
“Well, isn’t that what you wanted?” I say steadily, looking at my mother. “Me being your pawn so that you get in partnership with the Eastons. Isn’t that right, Governor?”
I turn to look at him.
I know a calculative man when I see one, but now he looks even more excited.
“Well done!” he suddenly says. “You got them both to spend millions on you without even saying a word, that’s brilliant!”
Shocked, Beverly and Melissa turn to look at him.
“Dad!”
Governor Hughes Ignores his beloved daughter and then he looks at me.
“Not only that but the Eastons gave us power to choose who will be the next heir, so now we need to deliberate who we want,” he says excitedly with his eyes glinting, practically planning his future in front of me.
Hmm, like husband like wife indeed.
“We?” I mutter.
“What?”
“You said we.” I lean forward and smile at him. “Who is this we you’re talking about?”
“Of course I mean me!” he says as if my question is incredulous. “Do you think you have any say in this?”
“Governor,” I start softly. “What makes you think that you have a say in what I do?”
If veins could burst right in the middle of one’s forehead, Governor Hughes would be in danger of that.
“It’s already been decided!” he snaps.
“Daddy, she’s a useless, uncultured thing!” Melissa suddenly says. “Let me be the one to marry the boss of the Easton Family.”
At this, I throw my head back and laugh.
Is this girl serious?
“Your mother stashed me away, kept you, spoiled you, gave you everything you wanted, including a fail-safe in the event that shady dealings need to happen in order for your father to secure his political ambitions, but now that you’ve seen the pool of sexy, gorgeous, wealthy, and intense candidates, you want back in?” I scoff. “You’re something else.”
“That’s because I didn’t know any better,” Melissa seethes.
“And now that you do, do you think you have the power to be the next Easton bride?” I ask gently. “Because by all means, go for it! Your parents will be pleased to have their first daughter married into a known mafia family!”
I don’t care what she does, but I will not be used anyhow by these people.
“I don’t mind—” Melissa starts, but Governor Hughes snaps to look at her.
“You, shut up! You caused all this and now you want to back out of your own plans?” Governor Hughes snaps in a low tone. “Besides, will you go against your grandfather?”
Wow, look at that.
A man who’s afraid of his father.
But then again, it did look like Governor Hughes’s father has all the power…meanwhile, Emmett didn’t have an ounce of fear for his grandfather. Just incredible measures of hate.
“And you,” Governor Hughes says, turning back to look at me. “If you think you can just do whatever you please, you’re sadly mistaken. I will get rid of that rebellion.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know about your brother. I can take him out anytime I want,” he says with a sinister smile on his face. “In case you didn’t know, I am in power and your brother works for power. Do the math.”
I hold his stare, then I look at Beverly.
“My brother,” I start. “He’s not this guy’s son?”
Beverly looks away from me. I remember Emmett’s question earlier.
“How many children do you have, Governor?”
It looks like Governor Hughes and his wife plan to destroy me and everything I have, just to make me submit.
But at the same time, there’s a man I know that can destroy everything that gets in his path, regardless of who it may be.
So now, do I partner with these idiots or do I run to the monster I know and sign away my life to him?
“Who?” I ask.
“What?” Governor Hughes says.
“Who is it that you want me to marry?” I question.
I have a guess. I just want him to confirm it.
“Well, we’ll discuss that later at home. I have to attend to something.”
And with that, Governor Hughes stands and leaves, going in the same direction Emmett, George, and Vaughn went, leaving me with Beverly and her daughter.
“Since the night is almost over, let’s all go back—” Beverly starts, but I cut her off.
“Yeah, you can do that by yourself,” I snap as I stand and grab my clutch. “I’m going out tonight.”
“Excuse me?” Beverly screeches. “You’re not going anywhere!”
“Watch me.”
With that, I leave them and find Jackson.
Earlier when I invited him to come rescue me from this crap, he told me we could hit the streets of NYC and go clubbing.
I didn’t want to before, because I’m not a clubbing girl, nor was I in the mood, but now, I don’t care about anything.
“That was something else,” Jackson says when we’re walking down the block toward the East Village. “I’ve never seen so much money being spent on just one person.”
I can see the interest in his eyes, but I don’t want to talk about that.
“It wasn’t for me.”
“But they all hurdled around you like you belonged to them,” he says with something in his eyes.
I ignore it and smile at him. “Well, I don’t belong to them. I promised my night to you, so are we going or what?”
“Oh, we so are,” Jackson says, but his smile makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand up on end, but I ignore it when he grabs my hand and we go.
When we get to the first club, he orders shots from the bar that we down in one go.
We dance for a while and then we take shots again.
I’m not a good drinker but tonight, I’ll pretend even if it kills me.
We leave that club and go to another one that’s underground.
Jackson tells me to find a seat and he’ll order our drinks.
I let him but I don’t find a place to sit. I go straight to the dance floor and start dancing with strangers.
I feel… hot.
Maybe it’s all the mess in my head, the stuffy anger in my chest, and the heartbreak in my soul, but I can’t make sense of anything.
In fact, I don’t want to make sense of anything, so I throw my hands and shimmy to the techno mix of Beyoncé’s Renaissance album and K-pop mesh up.
It’s heady and so good that when Jackson finds me, I gulp down the drink he offers me.
He smiles so big and hands me another drink that I down again, then I go back to dancing.
He moves in closer to dance with me and then he starts rubbing his hands against my thighs.
Feeling uncomfortable with that, I laugh and move away from him.
He just smiles and watches me.
At some point, I feel my phone buzz, but I ignore it.
I’m dancing and don’t give a damn.
“You are now good and ready, let’s go,” Jackson says with a smirk, but I can’t respond anymore.
I can only watch with blurry vision as Jackson leads me through the back door, into a car, and then we’re off.
It’s then that I realize something is wrong.
Jackson reaches over and runs his hands over my thighs and then he squeezes my breast.
Alarms blare in my head but why can’t I say anything?
Why can’t I move?
Why am I feeling hot instead?
“Yeah, I’ve hit the jackpot with you!” Jackson shouts as he drives. “They spent over fifty million on stupid things. I wonder how much you can go for…” He wants to sell me? “After I’m done with you, that is.”
Oh God, no!
How could I be so stupid?
How did I fall into this trap?
Before I even realize what’s going on, the car stops. Jackson gets out and then he opens my door and hoists me over his shoulder.
Vaguely, I recognize that this building is familiar as he walks up to it and gets in the elevator. When I open my eyes again, we’re now in my apartment!
The one Jackson found for me! Oh God.
Was this a setup right from the beginning?
“You know I have to say, I enjoyed watching you shower all that sweat you built up from scrubbing this place.”
He watched me? Did this asshole put cameras in here?
“I especially loved the way you would caress your tits and that cunt,” Jackson leers. “Tonight, it’s my turn!”
Just as Jackson puts me down on the counter after fondling my ass, the lights in the apartment all switch on.
Stunned, Jackson looks around, only to find that there’s someone already seated on the chair that faces the door.
Not just anyone, but a man I know all too well.
Behind him, are two familiar men all wearing black, standing behind the chair Emmett is sitting on, with their hands behind their backs.
They were waiting… in the dark.
Oh God.
“What the fuck?” Jackson gasps.
Emmett glances at me.
His nostrils flare, his eyes narrow, and a very cold and desolate aura falls over him.
A shiver goes through me as I watch him.
I have never seen him look like this at all!
He almost doesn’t look like he’s human…but like he’s something else entirely.
He looks away from me and then turns to look at the idiot that is now backing away as if he wants to run.
Emmett doesn’t even move in his seat, but he says two words that literally chill the room.
“Hello, Jackass.”
My eyes flutter open when I feel the sun on my skin.
I’m immediately hit by the heaviness of my body right before my head starts pounding like a whole-ass construction crew is at work behind my temples.
A groan escapes my lips before I can think of shifting my body onto my back.
My mouth is dry like a damn desert and in my head… everything is blank.
What happened?
My eyes widen when I finally notice that this ceiling… this high, expensive-looking ceiling with a pretty big and beautiful crystal chandelier in the middle, IS NOT FROM MY ROOM!
I jerk awake so fast, the pounding in my head awakens the pounding of my heart.
Black, silk sheets pool around me and I realize I’m wearing a huge but comfortable t-shirt. But just like the foreign surroundings, this t-shirt, too, is not mine.
Jesus, what happened?
Where am I?
I quickly press a hand between my legs.
It’s crazy that for girls and women, this is probably the first thing we check, to see if there’s any stickiness or soreness or bruises, hell, anything that can indicate a violation, and to my horror, I find that yes, I’m wearing unfamiliar black boxer briefs and there’s a wetness there.
I gasp as fear slams into me.
Something happened to me.
“Good, you’re not dead.”
A low, deep voice speaks to my left.
I whip my head around so fast, only to freeze in my tracks.
I can physically feel the breath in my lungs being trapped as I take in the visual in front of me.
Emmett is sitting in front of an easel that holds a wide canvas.
In his left hand, he holds a paintbrush so effortlessly, as if it might fall off, but I know the man is a master.
It’s just that, I’ve never seen him paint, let alone him doing it while shirtless, in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of what I’m assuming is his high-rise penthouse.
“You!” I croak. “What did you do to me?”
The accusation flies out of my mouth before I can stop it, but Emmett doesn’t even spare me a glance.
“What do you think I did to you?” he asks nonchalantly, not even bothered that I’m losing my mind and about to have a panic attack.
“You…” I stutter, my chest now heaving so fast, I might fall into a faint spell. “You did something to me! Why am I here? Why am I in this bed, and why am I wearing this… this shirt?”
From where he sits leisurely in front of his easel, he glances at me briefly, then he goes back to his art.
“That’s a lot of suspicion for someone who has zero regard for their own safety.”
I pause.
“My safety is almost nonexistent where you are concerned.”
From where I’m sitting on the bed, I see the corner of his lips curling slightly up as if he’s amused by that.
“Well, you’re not wrong. Two points for Delusional Ivy.”
I groan in annoyance. “I’m not in the mood for your mood swings. What happened to me?”
“You mean you don’t even recall the night your carelessness caused?”
My carelessness?
I’ve been nothing but careful all my life.
Always cautious, but from the way he suddenly tenses up, I can tell that something serious must’ve happened last night.
“Oh God, Emmett, what happened to me?”
I think I’m almost on the verge of tears now. All sorts of wild scenarios are rushing through my head to try and explain why I ended up in Emmett’s bed.
“Did you…”
“Did I assault you?” he snaps, the notes of anger that I had completely missed in my panic now audible in his terse voice. “Is that what you want to know, Angel? You think I’d ever be such a twisted sick fuck that I’d sexually assault you?”
An audible gasp escapes my lips.
I hate to say it, let alone admit it, but my mind did wonder…
“I—”
“Well, no, Angel. It wasn’t me who lured you out here under the faux pretenses of helping you get admitted into the fucking med school that you got wait-listed for because of your shit MCAT scores, which then likely gave you the confidence to fix your scores. I’m also not the one who then told you I’d help you find an apartment, when I had in fact a rape den ready, with hidden cameras set up all with the intention of later trapping you, drugging you, raping you, and when I’m done with you, fucking selling you!”
At the end of those words, I’m so stunned that I can’t breathe.
Some words jump at me, echoing in between my ears.
Lured.
Faux pretenses.
Hidden cameras.
Trap.
Drugging.
Raping me…
Emmett stares at me with a look so cold, so livid and dark, that a powerful chill moves through my body, then the fear slams in because images start flashing in my mind.
“Oh God.”
Tears start streaming down my cheeks unchecked now.
I remember it all.
The way Jackson sexually assaulted me… touching my body, gripping me...
“Oh God,” another horrible croak breaks free as pain clogs my throat and chest.
Last night… Jackson drugged me.
I knew those drinks tasted funny, but I ignored it, thinking it was just me and my overthinking.
After all, I’d just had an encounter with Emmett and the thing with my father and his family…
From his seat, Emmett watches me in silence, an impassive cold look on his face.
“Last night…” I whisper. “Jack?—”
“Don’t fucking say that disgusting name while you’re in my bed.” His words are firm, angry even, but when he looks at me, I don’t know what he sees on my face, but he sets his bush down and gives me his full attention.
“Are there blanks in your memory?” he asks gently, but there’s still a terseness in his deep voice.
I nod, not trusting my voice right now.
“What do you remember last?”
Images of Emmett and me flash in my head.
I remember his hands on me. His fingers trailing down my open back.
I remember him pressing the ghost of a kiss to the shell of my ear, then my lips.
I recall him telling me how "fucking delicious" I looked in my dress.
And then I remember the next words he said and the sharp, cold gleam that entered his eyes right before he walked away from me… that I should behave.
“I remember…” I fall silent as more images filter in my head.
There’s a huge bathroom. Then a huge shower stall.
I see Emmett piling my hair carefully atop my head and then tying it into a messy bun before he bathes me carefully in a warm shower.
Images of me clinging to Emmett flash in my head.
I see myself hugging him so tight, with a loony smile on my face.
My head was pressed right over his firm, hot, muscular chest and I begged him to let me count along with him.
As those images flash in my head, I feel my cheeks warming up hotter than the sun on my back.
I remember pulling Emmett to me, and then begging him to…
“Oh no!” I gasp, then quickly clamp a palm over my mouth.
Shame slams into me.
Did I beg this man whom I promised myself never to think of again, to let go of as a possibility… did I beg him to….
“Judging by the arousal mixed with embarrassment in your eyes, Angel, I assume you just recalled how you practically spread your legs and begged me to fuck you last night.”
It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Not a teasing one either. In fact, Emmett doesn’t look amused.
“That bastard gave you a fucked-up date drug that made you fucking out of your mind, but last night you were in rare form.”
In rare form.
Then is that why there’s wetness in between my legs? Is that my own arousal? If that was hours ago, then why am I still so, so wet.
“You were even moaning in your sleep, but that’s not new.”
OH. MY. GOD.
Can the earth open up and swallow me right now, please?
“What?” I croak like a broken record.
“Nothing,” he says dismissively. “Are the only recollections in your mind focused only on your R-rated proposition to suck my cock and have said cock rock your world by taking your virginity?”
I proposed to suck his dick.
I quickly sink back in bed, hoping that these fucking hundred-thousand thread count sheets bury me alive, but no such luck.
I reach up to wipe the sheen of sweat off my brow only to find that my hair is wrapped in a silk bonnet.
Did Emmett also do that?
Oh God.
“What’s going on in your head?” Emmett demands.
“I’m thinking,” I whisper in a high-pitched tone.
Do I address that? Or should I just go whack my head against a?—
Whack.
A loud sound rips through my ears.
For a moment, I think the sound just came from the room, so I jerk upright again, but Emmett is still calmly seated, watching me.
There’s still nothing but silence in the large master bedroom.
That sound…
That’s when half-formed images start flashing in my head.
Emmett.
With a spiked, steel baseball bat.
He beat the shit out of Jackson… until blood splattered everywhere.
On my dress.
On the walls of my apartment. On Emmett’s face.
Horror slams into me.
Slowly, with trepidation and fear, I look up at the huge, perfectly still and immovable god sitting quietly in the corner of the room.
He looks so powerful, so sexy, my mouth waters but more than that, the aura of intense danger that I always guessed at, is now front and center.
He’s no longer hiding like he did all the years we grew up in Westbrook Blues—sans the years I left.
Although he’s seated right now, and looks calm, the charge in the air that raises the small hairs at the back of my neck indicates that this man is not like your average, run-of-the-mill, brooding types.
He’s beyond that.
And I think I’ve always known that.
“You killed him.”
For the first time, it’s not a question from me, but a statement of fact.
Emmett watches me, as if searching for something, measuring my state of mind or lack thereof.
“I did.”
Bursts of gasps escape my lips.
I know Jackson tried to harm me in the most horrible way, but he also died in the most brutal way possible.
“You whacked his head against the linoleum floors until it cracked.”
“Yes.”
I stare at him. He holds my stare, cold, deep green clashing against drowning, bewildered brown.
“You chopped his hands off… right after you gouged out his eyes with a rusty spoon.”
“Of course.”
Of course. As if it’s a rite of passage, the obvious thing to do.
A shiver powers through me until I’m a trembling mess in his bed.
Emmett watches me steadily, and I’m pretty sure he’s aware that I’m now visibly shaking.
Unable to take his all-knowing gaze anymore, I break away and stare down at the sheets pooled around my waist, suddenly feeling so cold.
“Are you now afraid of me, Angel?” he questions, slowly rising from his stool.
He stalks over to me, in perfect strides like a looming, dangerous god descending upon the world he owns and can destroy at any time.
He makes his way right to me.
Before I can breathe, he’s got a knee up on the high bed, then he wraps a powerful, muscular arm around my waist and hoists me clear across the bed until I’m right under him, caged in by both his body in front of me and his arms on either side of me.
There’s no hope of escape.
Not when he’s looking down at me with so much anger blazing in his eyes.
A frisson of something potent that I refuse to identify zaps through my veins as Emmett crowds me in.
He leans down so close to my face. I can feel his hot chest over me and if I just tilt a bit, the tip of his nose will be touching mine.
Other than that, there isn’t any other contact between us.
His green eyes are deep, sharp, and firm as they stare down at me, holding me captive in some sort of cold vortex where he’s dissecting my every thought.
“You’re scared,” he repeats. “Of me.”
I try to hold steady, to pretend to be as impassive as he is, but see, there’s a huge, six-four, muscular, hot, primal male over me… you can’t blame me for my scatterbrain.
But scatterbrain or not, this isn’t a situation I know will end in the way I’ve fantasized about for years.
Him over me, our sweaty limbs entangled in sheets and each other. No.
This is different.
The warning flashing in his eyes is proof of that.
Caution.
I have to approach this with caution.
“No,” I whisper. “I’m not scared.”
He stares down at me, watching every minute emotion that passes through my eyes.
Before I even notice that he’s moving, I feel his huge hand grabbing the side of my face.
His calloused fingers trace my jaw slowly, so slowly I think he’s committing it to memory or trying to find the faults in it before he breaks it. I’ve seen these hands break and then take a life.
A shudder moves through me—which he feels.
I’m breathing hard, and he’s calmly tracing my jaw, then his thumb moves to my bottom lip where he traces my outer lip with an intentional, slow pace that’s so carnal, so hot and mind-numbing, it’s almost cruel.
Heat pools between my legs before I know it.
I can feel my breasts become full and heavy, and then the wildest thing happens.
I feel my nipples harden into diamond peaks, I’m sure if Emmett just moves a bit, his chest will definitely know what’s happening to my body.
“Last night,” Emmett starts, then trails off.
At this point, I’m almost panting.
My senses are now going crazy.
All I smell is him, clean, delicious, and so alluring.
I feel his hard, huge body hovering over mine.
I can’t help but think if he just lets go, I’ll be crushed under his weight—a thought that should frighten any girl with remote survival instincts, but I’m me and this man is my kryptonite.
I want him to crush me.
I want to be under him so bad, I almost moan when his thumb sensually traces the corner of my lips.
A scandalous thought zaps through my mind when I realize that he’s waiting for me.
“What happened last night?” My voice is husky and airy, all sense of normalcy now chucked out the proverbial window.
“You came for me.”
I gasp, as shock pulses through me.
“I did?” I’m so stunned that I can’t even think. “I’ve never… I’ve never orgasmed for…”
“I know,” he says, his voice now deeper, thicker, more textured than ever. “The first thing you did when you woke up from your drugged-up funk was falsely accuse me of taking advantage of you, but, Angel, you’re the one that sexually assaulted me last night.”
“What?”
“You were running hot last night so I had to put you in the shower but imagine my discomfort when you clung to me, refusing to get down. I had to hold you in the shower while you did this.”
He points to his neck where for the first time I notice something I’ve never imagined.
Hickeys!
On Emmett’s neck!
I gave him hickeys!!!
“Oh God!” I gasp, embarrassment blooming in me.
Emmett peers down at me. “As if that wasn’t enough, you grabbed me when I was putting you to bed, pulled me down with you, then you proceeded to ride my thigh like a pro until you exploded in my arms with a scream.”
Oh.
My.
GOD.
I did what?
From the flashes and tidbits of last night in my memory bank, I thought the most embarrassing thing I did was beg this man to take my virginity, and maybe suck his dick, but I… I came… on his thigh?
“Do you want me, silly girl?” he whispers brazenly as he moves lower until I feel something hard settling right between my parted legs.
Oh fuck.
I feel his hand reach for my hip. Then he angles me in a way that when he rolls his hips against me, I moan so loud my entire body heats up with embarrassment.
Did this man just dry hump me?
Heat and lust flush in my veins.
“I don’t…” I start, feeling embarrassed. “I don’t know.”
“You’re a virgin, that’s beautiful. I can teach you,” he says wickedly.
“Teach me?”
“Yes,” he whispers against my lips. “I’ll teach you a number of things, including how to scream for me because, Angel, you will scream, even after I’m gone.”
Everything in me kicks into high, heated voltage.
It’s like my body has a mind of its own.
I’ve been in love with this boy all my life, but he has never, not once, done or said any of this.
But then again, I rode his thigh and orgasmed last night.
“I have about four seasons left, do you want them?” he grits out as he deftly rolls his hips, his large, hard cock hitting a part of me that I never knew would make me feel this insane!
“Emmett.”
“Do you want me, silly girl, because I’ll swallow you whole, leaving nothing at all.”
I think something in me bursts.
I want him…but I also know that he doesn’t want me.
Suddenly, I can’t look at him.
I can’t breathe anymore, and I sure as hell need to get out of here.
“I… I need to go,” I stutter.
“Oh? Where to?”
I have no idea what time it is or how I can get out of this, but all I know is, I HAVE TO GO.
“I have a prior appointment, Emmett, please… can you unhand me?”
“I’m not touching you.”
He isn’t.
In fact, our bodies are not touching at all.
I’m just under him and I feel trapped both emotionally and mentally.
This is bad.
“Can you… can you please move so I can get up?”
“Oh, so now you can’t take your brazen audacity, huh?” Emmett rasps in my face. “Then tell me, when did you and your family start plotting to take my family down?”
As I watch, he alters right in front of me, shifting, casting away the mask he was wearing since I first spotted him.
Now, the shield is gone, and in its place, an intense, magnetic, almost wild force of power reveals itself.
DANGER.
Alarm bells shoot off somewhere in the back of my head as I watch. Then my flight-or-fight instinct kicks in when his words echo in my ears.
For the third time this morning or early afternoon, I’m stunned into utter silence. But unlike the self-embarrassment of the times before, this time I no longer feel the sexual frustration this man has on me—don’t get me wrong, that’s still there, in intense spades—but I now feel one thing.
The violence in the air.
It’s now potent, vibrant, almost tangible, and as I process that, only one thought rings in my head.
He knows.
Emmett knows everything!