Chapter 50
Ivy batted at the arm that gripped her throat, scratched at it. She was struggling to breathe, her airway slowly being closed off.
Shoved backward, Ivy barely managed to stay on her feet. Then her ass hit something—a table?—and she fell, her head bouncing off the hard tile.
The man went with her, knocking what little air she had left out of her lungs.
The fall, however, forced her attacker to release his hold on her throat.
Ivy blinked, tried to clear her darkening vision. Her head swelled. She barely had enough presence of mind to kick with her legs.
Hit something.
Heard a grunt.
Ivy scooted backward. Finally got a clear look at her attacker.
It was Zeke, and the man was brandishing an eight-inch blade.
A blade that was covered in blood.
My blood?
Ivy did a quick mental inventory of her body. Her head ached and her throat was raw. But she didn’t feel any stab wounds.
“Don’t move,” Zeke warned. “Don’t you fucking move.”
Ivy wasn’t sure she could, even if she thought Zeke was bluffing.
She knew he wasn’t.
“Please . . .”
Zeke looked like he was in physical pain, the way he was snarling, but Ivy didn’t think that her weak kick could have done that much damage.
The blue polo he’d been wearing earlier in Dr. Moorehead’s office, and was still wearing now, was heavy and dark with blood.
“Zeke, think about what you’re doing.”
Ivy coughed. It felt as if she’d swallowed a cactus.
Zeke came forward, leading with the knife.
Ivy screamed and closed her eyes. When she didn’t feel the cold metal slip into her chest or stomach, she slowly opened them again.
Zeke seemed confused, as if he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here. The man was staring at the knife. Turning it over in his hand. Eyes locked on the blood; it had a jelly-like consistency as it clotted on the metal.
“My dad . . . you don’t understand . . .”
Ivy wasn’t sure what to do, what to say.
“Why didn’t you just let it go?” Zeke sobbed now. “Why couldn’t you just let it the fuck go?”
“I will.” Speaking made Ivy’s throat hurt. Nodding made her head throb even more. “I’ll forget all about the cheating, and I’ll even tell Rebecca—”
“It’s all your fault! All your fucking fault! My dad is going to kill me!” Zeke roared.
He lunged again with his knife, but this time, Ivy didn’t close her eyes or scream.
Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of enjoying her fear.
Zeke stopped himself. Pulled the knife back a second time.
“I didn’t . . . oh, God . . . I didn’t mean to hurt anyone . . . I just . . . I wanted to talk . . .”
Ivy coughed again. Spat something thick on the floor beside her.
“Who? Zeke, who did you hurt?”
“Hurt?” His eyes watered. “I . . . I killed . . . oh, fuck . . .” Zeke brought the blade to within inches of her face. Tears wet his cheeks as he bared his teeth. “You made me do this, Ivy. You made me do this.”