Ivy

by Willa Nash

And in the center of it all, there he was. He sat on the largest couch with a tumbler of amber liquid in hand as he surveyed his club. A king on his throne. Zain.

This was why she came to Treason. Not for the music. Not for the crowd. Not for the dancing. She came for him. What would Ivy say if she knew Elora was fucking her older brother?

“Oh, and, Ivy?” Ivy turned. “Touch my things again, and I’ll burn your pretty manor to the ground. You’re not the only person in this house capable of being cruel.”

“Never again,” she whispered. On unsteady legs, she walked to the bathroom, locking herself inside to hide her silent tears as she turned on the shower. She didn’t hear Zain leave. But when she emerged, dripping wet, he was gone.

Lucas, her vivacious, sweet and loving brother, was only her half brother. His father wasn’t Lawrence Maldonado. Lucas’s father was David Clarence.

Breathe. This was a fluke. The entire night had gone wrong. It wasn’t the same as before. It wasn’t the same. He was dead. He’s dead. Ivy had made sure of it.

The last hug she remembered had been from her uncle. It had been uncomfortable and short. Her body had been stiff. His had been strained. Then again, they’d been standing next to an open grave in a cemetery. They also hadn’t seen each other in years, so awkward had been a given.

And when she woke from her nap, Edwin was still in his chair.

Everyone wanted something from Ivy. Money. Status. Her father wanted her to be someone else. They wanted the façade. They wanted the rich, beautiful bitch. She’d thought last weekend that maybe Tate had wanted her. The real Ivy Clarence. Who was she kidding? There was no real Ivy. That Ivy was dead, killed in a car crash years ago. With Kristopher.

“Do you trust me yet?” he asked. She sat straighter. “Is that why you’ve been coming this week? To earn my trust.” “Yes and no.” He shrugged. “Yes, I want you to trust me. No, because even if you never trust me, I’ll still keep coming just to buy you candy and see you smile.”

A little cutie

“So this is why you’re always winning the coin tosses. You’re a cheat.” He chuckled. “Guilty.” And he’d positioned this coin toss so she wouldn’t have to delve into her past like any other date.

“Elora,” he called, stopping her on the third stair. “Give me a reason to cancel it.” She squeezed her eyes shut. Goddamn, how she wished she didn’t love him this much.

“Look at us,” he said. “Watch me sink into your body.”

He crossed the room in a flash, forcing her against the counter. “Because I want you to crave me just a fraction of how much I crave you. Because I want you so worked up you can’t see straight.” Great answer. “You’re very blurry.”

“Hi.” “You left, asshole,” she barked. His eyebrows came together. “How many orgasms does a man have to deliver to earn a hello?”

“Trusting people is how you get your heart broken.” “You’ve got it wrong.” Edwin shook his head. “Trusting people is how you mend your broken heart.”

It was unnerving, yet erotic. “I won’t be a secret,” he said. “I won’t play games. I won’t fuck around. I have no desire to be a whatever. We don’t need a label, but I sure as hell won’t pretend you don’t mean something. Clear?”

Cassia couldn’t respond. Her eyes were glued to the photo. Bridget was beautiful. Her brown eyes sparkled and her smile was framed with laugh lines. No. It couldn’t be her. What were the chances? “What?” Edwin asked. Cassia shook her head. “I-I know her.”

“But you have to decide. Do you want me? Or are you looking for someone to fuck while you finish school? Because I’ll gladly fuck you, Red. But my cock is all you’ll get. So what’s it going to be, Cassia?”

Zain hadn’t hiked Mount Kilimanjaro. He’d just bought a house in Maui, but since it was being renovated, he hadn’t stayed there once. He wanted a few more tattoos. He hadn’t decided what to get yet, but he’d chosen the locations. His foot. The underside of his right forearm. And something small across his heart. He hadn’t married the love of his life. He hadn’t made beautiful babies.

She buried her face in her hands and screamed. She cried so hard and so loud that the noise bounced off the tiled walls. Her chest ached and her throat was raw by the time she’d finally pulled herself together enough to stand.

“Mom and Dad went to see Zain,” Ivy said. “We’ll go in next.” “Okay.” Elora pointed for the hallway. “I think I’ll get going.” Ivy scoffed. “No, you’re going to see Zain.”

His hand was too cold. “I love you.” Her voice cracked. “I’ll always love you.” She half expected Zain to open his eyes and give her a look like he’d known it all along. That she’d never hidden her love as well as she’d tried. Instead, his heart monitor flatlined.

Elton Clarence had all the money in the world but he’d been helpless when she’d gotten sick. They’d all been helpless, forced to watch as the cancer had stolen Bridget’s light.

“You’re cold.” Frozen. She was stuck in Zain’s room, hearing the shrill alarms of his monitors. “A little.”

“I’m sorry.” Pity clouded Ivy’s gaze. “Don’t tell him I was here,” Elora said. Ivy shook her head. “Why?” The doors began to close. “Don’t tell him I was here,” she repeated. Then she was alone. Then she let herself collapse.

He was recovering quickly. The doctors had marveled at Zain’s improvement in the past week, and if everything continued on this path, he might go home as early as next week.

Of course her mother had lied. Her biological father was alive and, according to the occupation field, gainfully employed at . . . Wait. Aston University. She swiped down, stopping at a series of photos on the following pages. One was a close-up, the man’s face, his easy smile captured perfectly in the frame. Elora’s heart dropped. She knew that face. She’d seen him walking around Aston’s campus. He was the dean of students. Henry Neilson.

“Because you didn’t ask me!” Zain’s voice boomed through the hallway. “You could have stuck around and fucking asked me yourself about Mira. But you ran. Like always, you ran. And goddamn it, I needed you, El. I needed to wake up from that nightmare and see your face. I needed you. And you should have been there.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, finally breaking the silence. “What do you want to drink?” She took out two plates, then surveyed every drawer like she had the cabinets. When she opened the fridge, she frowned.

“You should go,” he said. “No.” “I don’t want—” “I love you.” Elora needed her own weapon. And at the moment, honesty was her sharpest knife. She couldn’t go back in time and say it years ago, like she should have. But she could say it today. “I love you very much.”

“I’d rather skip what you hate and hear you say that you love me again.” “I love you.” Her voice cracked. Damn it. She was going to cry. Hard. There was no stopping it. No leaving to hide herself in a lonely corner. He was going to see what no one else ever had. Elora, stripped bare. Zain’s forehead dropped to hers. “I love you.”

“You and me, we fit,” he said. “We fit so fucking perfectly it shouldn’t be real. Yeah, Mira and I were good. But even when we were at our best, nothing can compare to you and me.” He pressed his hand over her heart. “Two hearts.” “One beat,” she finished.

His very first paying clients had been his grandparents. Axel had inked Two Hearts over his grandfather’s heart. And One Beat over his grandmother’s. They’d both been diagnosed with cancer the prior year. Chemotherapy hadn’t worked in either case, so before they’d passed, they’d wanted coordinating tattoos.

He told me he’d been cheating on me with Allison Winston for months.” To this day she wasn’t sure what had hurt worse. That punch, delivered with all of Kristopher’s strength, or the fact that he’d had sex with another woman.

“I said that we’re done when I say we’re done. Did I say we were done?” “No?” He took her hand again. “No.” Ivy’s heart swelled. There was just too much inside and it came out as a cry. Laughter. Tears.

“How did you find me?” “Really?” He gave her a flat look, then set the toiletry case on the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s your question? Christ. I love you, Red, but if you don’t get your stuff together so we can get the fuck out of this hotel, I’m going to lose my shit. Pack. Now.”

Edwin sighed, his anger deflating. He reached over, sliding his hand to the back of her neck, fitting it beneath her hair. Then his thumb stroked the column of her throat. “Don’t ever do that to me again. Please. You need space, fine. I’ll give it to you. But don’t you ever hide from me.”

“Yes. That’s where I grew up. My father was a professor there.” “And Josh?” “Josh is my ex.” She swallowed hard. “And my father’s lover.”

Allison’s face was splotchy. Her eyes were red rimmed and tears coated her cheeks. She didn’t even glance at Ivy. She was entirely focused on Tate as she extended a white stick. A pregnancy test. With a tiny plus in the window.

“What happened?” Lucas asked, waving to Zain’s broken leg. “Motorcycle accident.” “Whoa.” Lucas hissed. “Sorry.” “I got lucky. Your sister kept telling me to wear my helmet. It saved my life.” Lucas smiled back at her, then they were gone. Brothers.

“How long have you known?” “You are my daughter, Elora. Lucas is my son.” “But—” “No. That is the end of it.”

“My honor, man. Come on back.” Axel winked at Elora, then led the way to his tattoo room. “You’re getting a tattoo?” Elora asked Zain as he settled into a chair. “We are. I was hoping you’d get one too.” Zain pointed to the neon sign on the wall. Two hearts. One beat. An hour later, Zain had the first part of that script inked over his heart. And Elora had the second half inked over hers.

It was Geoff who’d confronted her about the pills. Geoff had been the one to notice her addiction. Not her parents. Not her brothers. Not her friends. Her butler. Geoff had gotten her help. He’d enlisted Francis, and together, they’d found a counselor who’d come to the manor every day for three months.

Why was she laughing? Maybe because of all the people at Aston, the last two she’d expected to be sharing secrets with were her roommates—former roommates. Whatever the reason, she couldn’t stop. Ivy joined in next. Then Elora. Until the three of them were making such noise that they were getting looks from the few people walking by. Minutes passed until they finally pulled themselves together. Cassia had to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes.

But Elora was in a dress like Ivy, and as her best friend let Zain help her out of her coat, the material hugged her growing belly. Ivy’s nephew.