The Rush
“Hey thanks for the ride,” I tried to smile while I tugged him along to the elevator.
“No problem,” he answered slowly. “Hey, Ivy, is everything-“
My apartment door opened and Nix filled out the doorframe. He didn’t say anything, just watched us from the end of the hall. I slammed my finger into the down button as soon as I was in reach and released his wrist before Nix could make anything of it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” I said in way of goodbye.
“Sure, Red,” Ryder answered, finally taking the hint. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And then he stepped into the elevator and was gone.
A breath of relief whooshed out of me and I felt like I could finally turn back and face Nix.
“One boy at a time, Ivy. You know the rules,” Nix scolded before I could even get through the door.
“He’s not…. I swear, it was just a ride,” I promised. My voice was shaky, my eyes unable to meet his. Which wasn’t fair since it was just a ride on his part. I hated that it felt like more to me.
The door closed with a bang behind Nix and startled me. I ignored the way my heart hammered in my chest and the goose bumps rose on my arms. I went back to my place at the table and sipped from my water as if nothing happened.
“Ivy,” my mother started.
“Mom, I haven’t even broken up with Chase yet, please don’t start,” I begged.
“Is he always like that?” she asked, ignoring my statement.
“What do you mean?” I asked innocently.
“Is he always so composed?” she clarified calmly but I watched her eyes dart nervously to Nix.
“He’s really shy,” I lied. I wasn’t sure how else to explain his lack of interest. They could never know about his immunity from the curse. Never. Better to play up my mother’s insecurities anyway. “He’s also pretty oblivious. The first time I met him he didn’t see me until he crashed into me.”
“Crashed?” Nix asked noticing my word choice.
“With two cups of coffee,” I smiled weakly. Please buy it. Please buy it. Please buy it.
“That’s not what we’re here to talk about anyway,” my mother’s tone was sharp and to the point. “We want to know what Smith took you into his office for the other day. And before you deny it, I know you went in there. I watched him close the door.”
I mashed my lips together, sliding them back and forth while biting painfully into them until they felt bruised and swollen. I knew these questions were coming, I just didn’t think she actually saw us go in there. She was way too sneaky.
“He had this book on depression he wanted to give to me,” I replied carefully, slowly. I had practiced this answer in my head a hundred times since Sunday. This interrogation was inevitable, but it didn’t make me any less nervous. “But I said no thank you. I didn’t want him to think my condition was worse than it is. He was just worried about me.”
“He was worried about you?” she echoed in the same casual tone I used. “Worried that you were still battling with depression? How sweet.”
“What else did he say, Ivy,” Nix demanded, knowing there was more.
“He thought maybe,” I paused. This was dangerous ground. But what else could I do? “He thought maybe mom had something to do with why I was sent away.”
I cleared my throat while that grenade settled.
“Smith,” Nix growled.
“Damn that man,” my mother echoed.
Like Smith was the villain. She married him to get knocked up, take all his money and then watch him die. And Nix orchestrated the entire plot.
“What did you tell him, Ivy?” Nix asked, his eyes flickering up to mine. They were fierce and demanding. They were eyes that would not be lied to.
“I told him the truth,” I began and forced myself to control the tremble in my voice. “I told him I went away because of Sam.”
More pause. Nix looked down into the depth of his scotch glass and seemed to simply watch the oversized ice cube melt. My mother’s gaze flitted between me and her employer and I wanted to roll my eyes and demand she grow a backbone. I was her daughter.
But she wasn’t afraid of me.
Not like she was afraid of Nix.
“Did you tell him what happened with you and Sam Evans?” Nix finally asked.
“No, not specifically,” I answered quickly.
“Have you told anyone what happened?”
“I, uh, no. Kids at school assume the accident was my fault. But everyone knows it was a drunk driving thing. There’s a…. a, uh, can at school for him,” my voice was a whisper, weak, tremulous and delicate.
“A can?” Nix asked in a gruff voice. He was impatient with me. I had failed him. I had failed him in lots of ways, but tonight he was frustrated with my weakness.
“They take donations for his recovery. He will be wheelchair bound for the rest of his life.” I sucked in a breath feeling as though my soul was being scraped across broken glass, the empty remains of my heart lay shattered on the floor and I continued to drag my fragile soul back and forth until I was left bleeding and desperate.
“Ivy, we’re not still here are we?” Nix suddenly demanded, standing abruptly from his chair. “Sam chose to drive after drinking. Hell, Sam chose to drink as much as he did. You cannot keep blaming yourself for his poor decisions. And when I think about what could have happened to you, how he could have hurt you….” His expression broke for just the briefest second and I saw actual emotion behind his perfect façade of control. My breath stuttered in my lungs at the thought he would actually care what happened to me. “It’s time to get over it. Grow up, Ivy. Be an adult for once and put the blame of this unfortunate situation where it belongs. No more sulking. I mean that, no more.” he finished on a growl and then stalked into the kitchen where he threw his still half-full glass into the sink. The glass shattered against the stainless steel, the sound of splintered shrapnel breaking up the shock he left behind.
My mother simply stared at me, unsure what to do with Nix’s show of emotion or my still obvious trauma.
“Not even two weeks,” I mumbled.
“Give it two more,” Nix commanded. “And then the other boy.”
“He has a girlfriend,” I pleaded desperately. “They are in love. I couldn’t…. I’m friends with her too.”
His eyes darkened with anger then until they were black orbs of fury, sucking the light of the room into their depths. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he hissed. “This isn’t a discussion. You know that. I have business in Greece for the next two weeks. When I return, my apartment will be ready. I’ve decided to stay until this group of legacies graduates. You have two weeks to find a way to deal with all of this. I don’t want to see any traces of this when I return. Am I understood?”
I could only look up at him for a few seconds, hating him with every fiber of my being, with every molecule and atom I was made with. “Yes, I understand,” I finally answered, meeting his stare at the same time my fingers traced along my ribs where a tattoo that meant more to me than anything else in this world was etched. “I’ll be better, Nix.”
“Ava, don’t disappoint me,” Nix turned his attention to my mother who audibly gasped at his words. “I’m leaving her in your hands. I want her perfect again. Do your job as her mother for once in your life.”
She nodded pathetically, barely able to meet his intense eyes.
“Good,” he finally growled and then pushed off the wall.
My mother and I sat perfectly still long after the door slammed behind him. Neither of us could meet the other’s eyes or get up to move around. He was everything in both of our lives. We both bent to his will, followed his commands.
The difference between us couldn’t be more obvious. My mother resigned herself to this life a long time ago. There was no other existence for her.
And for me? This was the only existence I refused to live. I would play my part. But Nix would not rule over me forever.
I decided to call Smith in that moment. He offered help and I would take it. Things could always get worse than they were now- but not by much. And that was a risk I had to take, because if I waited much longer I wouldn’t be able to leave. I wouldn’t be able to piece back together all of the broken pieces that ceased to make a whole person. There would only be the ghost of me that remained.
A ghost, just like my mother was.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Ivy,” Ryder called before I could even step foot inside the building.
Damn it. I hoped my whole plan to arrive late and leave early, avoid even eye contact with him and ignore all people completely would work out in my favor. Apparently, Ryder came prepared this morning, verbal guns blazing and all.
“What?” I grunted. I knew this was coming. Obviously he would have questions. But it didn’t make me any more excited to deal with them.
“You need to talk to me, Ivy.” He was leaning against one of front doors apparently waiting to attack me. His arms were crossed over his chest pulling his faded blue long sleeved t-shirt tight across his biceps, his jeans hung loose and torn at the knees and thighs. His black combat boots were untied and still damp from the constant fall drizzle outside. And his hair, oh good lord, his untamable hair. His wild, bed-head hair stood up haphazardly in every direction. The dark brown locks going straight up only to fall over at the tips and tell the story of a hand being dragged through them in frustration, or anger, or…. desire.
Energy rushed through me at the sound of my name on his lips. I paused in the doorway, without consciously deciding to stop. He had that kind of control over me. He called to me. Intoxicated me. He was becoming so much more to me than I should have ever let him. And yet my eyes were locked to his even while I screamed internally at my legs to move.
“About what?” I shrugged one shoulder and waited. I was hoping if I could pull of indifference maybe he would chicken out.
“What guy?” I whispered, forcing my eyes back to his.
“Stop it, Red. Just stop.” I winced against his harsh tone and his gray eyes immediately softened.
“I can’t,” I shook my head desperately and then glanced down the hallway nervously.
“You told me we were friends last night. You. You’re the one who told me we were friends. Let me be your friend,” he pleaded in the softest voice I had heard him use.
I tilted my head so that I could inspect my Tory Burch flats and the hot pink skinny jeans that were basically painted on my legs. I could kick myself right now. Keeping Ryder at a distance did not mean declaring a relationship with him even if it was of the platonic variety. And it certainly didn’t mean including him in all the twisted intricacies of my life.
“Ivy,” he breathed. He took a step forward and very gently slipped his fingers into the hand hanging limply at my side. “I’m not going to do or say anything that will get you into trouble. But I need to know that you’re alright.”
The warmth of his fingers spread through my body like liquid heat, infecting every inch of me. I felt every small connection of his skin to mine, the pads of his fingers, his joints that bent to curve around my hand, the heel of his hand as it pressed into mine. I closed my eyes against the sensation. The feeling was so profound, so all consuming that it intensified until my fingertips tingled and my toes curled. I closed my eyes and prayed this was all that Ryder was, just a rush of feeling, of sensation, that the only pull I felt to him was the rush.
But even I wasn’t that good at lying to myself.
“Are you in trouble?” he whispered.
“No,” I felt myself answer. “He’s just a friend of my family. He…. he’s overprotective of me. That’s all.”
I made myself look up at him and meet his penetrating gaze. I mashed my lips together and begged him to drop this.
“I just want-“ he started, but didn’t get to finish.
“Oh good you found her!” Phoenix called from down the hall. He was walking toward us from the same classroom I knew Chase was in and I instantly felt guilty. I pulled away from Ryder immediately, breathing easier with the small distance. “So have you asked her yet?”
Ryder shook his head, his expression pulled into masked pain. He smiled at Phoenix as he approached with a large wooden hall pass swinging in his hand, but his eyes stayed hard granite, pinched in the corners and he raked his hand through his already tousled hair as if he were trying to pull it from its roots.
“Ask me what?” I braved, ignoring the way my voice cracked and tremble.
“Your friends spilled your secret last night, Ives,” Phoenix announced somberly and I felt all the breath leave my chest in a whoosh of panic.
“What do you mean?”
“About the you know,” Phoenix’s brow turned down to concern before he mimicked playing the
piano, his fingers wiggled animatedly in the air. “Exie said you could seriously play.”
“Oh, the piano? Um, yeah, just a little bit,” I answered. My breathing returned to normal, but this secret was no less dangerous.