Recovering Ivy

by Riley Edwards

  “We’re back to that, are we?” he replied.

  It was time I turned the tables on him. I needed to know why he was looking into Forester and what he knew. The last thing I needed was him fucking up my plan when I was so close to nailing him.

  “What do you know about Forester?” I queried.

  “He’s a plant. He works for Smart Technologies and was sent to Techwatch to steal their launch plans and pricing structure. You’re the last loose end before we turn our file over to Smart Technologies and the Feds. He’ll be charged in the next few days.”

  Holy shit. That didn’t work.

  “No. You can’t,” I blurted.

  “Really? Why’s that, Ivy? What’s your involvement?”

  “I have nothing to do with any of that.”

  Shit. He was going to screw everything up. I was so close. I almost had all the proof I needed.

  Forester Grant was going to go down.

  Zane’s face turned to granite. “Are you fucking him?” he growled the words and pinned me with his stare.

  Fucking him? The thought made me want to throw up.

  “Are you kidding me…”

  “Then why are you protecting him?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Tell me, Ivy, if you’re not fucking the man, you’re not protecting him, you’re not involved, then what? You like following him when he fucks his whores? Do you take pictures of that, too? Does it turn you on knowing he’s taking some hooker into a hotel room and fucking her good and hard against the wall? Is that why you caught fire the minute I slammed your little ass to the wall and fucked you silly? Were you thinking about him as you came all over my cock? Huh, Ivy, is that how it works for you?”

  “He killed my sister, you fucking bastard!” I shouted and stood. The chair tipped over, but it didn’t stop me. Every ounce of guilt and anger I’d tried to keep in check lit and spewed out. “I follow him so I can get the proof I need to finally take his ass down. My sister wasn’t the first, but she will be the last, if I have to kill him myself. He fed her drugs, used her, whored her out, she ran his drugs, and when he’d had enough and was ready to move his new piece in, he killed her. So, fuck you for saying I’m protecting him. And I’m not some goddamn freak who gets off watching him, fuck you for that, too. I know you think I’m no better than the hookers he fucked. I let you take me back to your place and fuck…”

  “Enough.” Zane stopped my rant. Before I could stop him, Zane had my back to the wall, and both of his palms were flat against the drywall, caging me in. His eyes had gone funny and his features had softened. He looked like the man from last night.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I had to get you to talk.” His right hand left the wall and brushed an errant tear that had fallen.

  “Move, Zane.”

  “Not until you understand why I said what I did.” It didn’t matter. Nothing did. Everything was ruined and Forester would never be held accountable for anything. Joey was gone. I had failed her in life and now I was failing her in death. I was so tired. I shook my head, not wanting to argue or continue talking. “I needed you pissed, the more the better. I had to know how deep you were in so I could protect you.”

  “I don’t need your protection. Now please move. I want to leave.”

  “Whether you want it or not, you need it. Give me a second and I’ll take you home.”

  He kissed my forehead and pulled back, grabbing my hand and leading me out of the room. Why did his kiss feel so good and his hand so reassuring? Why did it feel good to believe he wanted to protect me when everything inside of me told me it was a lie?

  No man gave without wanting something in return.

  Deep down, I knew the cost would be too high. Zane had the power to ruin me, more power than my mom and dad and their combined years of drug abuse ever did. He’d be the blade that cut the final thread I was hanging on with.

  7

  Zane

  To say I was fucking angry was an understatement.

  I was pissed at Ivy.

  I was pissed at myself.

  I was really fucking pissed at Forester.

  Three sets of eyes swung our way when we walked into the control room. Two sets were alarmed, one set flashed with shock before they transformed to indifference. Perfect, Linc was here. I needed to hear his shit like I needed a hole in the head.

  “We need more on Forester Grant. Fuck the corporate spy shit. Dig deep. I want everything on him in the last ten years - who’s lived in his house, where he eats, where he shops, who he buys. Every goddamn second is to be accounted for. Declan, I want you on the whores. I want all the dirt you can find. Garrett, run Joanna Long - how’d they meet, how long, her credit cards, where she went. I also want her autopsy and any other information the ME has on file as well as the PD.”

  “On it,” Declan said and left the room.

  “I can have the ME and police reports tonight. The rest will take a few days,” Garrett answered.

  “And her?” Linc asked, motioning to Ivy.

  “She’s clean.”

  “Just like that?” he continued.

  “Just like that,” I confirmed.

  He had something to say, and knowing my brother it was going to piss me right the fuck off. He didn’t delay and he didn’t disappoint.

  “Good to know.”

  “What is?” I asked, falling into his trap.

  “That you’re finally getting your head out of your ass.” He chuckled. “I assume she’s the reason you’ve been walking around here today like a bear with a thorn in his ass.”

  “Not now, asshole.”

  “Zane,” Ivy abolished. “Are you always this much of an ass?”

  “Only to the people he likes,” Garrett muttered.

  “How does he talk to people he doesn’t?” she asked.

  “He doesn’t. He just shoots them,” my brother helpfully added.

  “What?” Her hand spasmed in mine.

  “He’s joking.” I gave my brother the finger and hoped he’d caught the death glare I was throwing his way.

  Unfortunately, he was slow and continued to engage. “Am I?”

  “I’m taking Ivy home,” I announced.

  My brother, being the ass he is, couldn’t keep his mouth shut and once again I was considering firing him.

  “What’s the rush, big brother? You’re not going to introduce her to the team?”

  “Serious as shit right now. Ivy’s had a long day. She’s tired, she needs to rest, and I’m taking her home. You want a meet and greet, be here tomorrow, oh-nine-hundred, we’ll brief then.”

  “And here I thought one of these days we’d need to surgically remove your head from your ass.”

  “You trying to piss me off?”

  I didn’t have the time nor the disposition to argue with Linc. I needed to get Ivy something to eat and into bed. I was going to have a war on my hands when she found out what bed she was getting into. The thought made my dick stir and my gut tighten. Why was the notion of battling it out with her so damn exciting?

  “Nope.” He popped the p and turned to Ivy. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I won’t be here. I have to be in the office,” she argued.

  “You quit. Garrett, please send Ivy’s letter of resignation to Techwatch. Effective immediately.”

  “What? You can’t do that. I need that job. I have to pay my bills.” She turned to Garrett, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t send it.”

  “You’re not going near that man again. He’s dangerous.”

  “Zane!” she exclaimed and to further drive her point home she stomped her foot.

  “Did you stomp your foot?” I asked unnecessarily.

  “I can’t afford to pay you for your help. Leave it alone. I was doing fine on my own.” She ignored my question.

  “You’re not paying me to help you.” I was affronted she’d assumed I would bill her to take a douchebag off the streets. Eighty percent of the work we did with l
ocal law enforcement and private citizens who truly needed our help was done pro bono. I made more than enough money from government contracts.

  “I still can’t afford you,” she whispered.

  I didn’t want to ask, but I had to. “What does that mean?”

  “No man is going to help a woman without expecting something in return. No one does something for free.”

  Three very angry growls echoed in the room.

  “The fuck?”

  “I can’t afford it,” she repeated softly.

  “Please stop talking.” I turned to Garrett, mainly to try to get my anger in check. I didn’t fully understand what her comment meant, but I understood the implication loud and clear. And what I understood I didn’t fucking like.

  She’d been used.

  She’d been hurt.

  The pain I saw in her eyes had been real and by the tone of her voice it was so deep it had leaked into her bones in a way I doubted would ever work its way out.

  That pissed me off.

  I gave the guys a lift of my chin, not trusting my voice, and gave Ivy a tug.

  We worked our way through security and out to my car. We were five minutes into our drive before she’d snapped out of her daze and announced, “You’re going the wrong way.”

  I ignored her and asked, “Are you hungry?”

  “No.”

  “Did you eat?”

  “Yes. I ate before I went to the bar. I didn’t know how long the meeting would go.”

  “Mind if I hit a drive-thru?”

  “You eat fast food?” She sounded shocked.

  “Yep.” I chuckled.

  “You don’t look like you eat junk food. I mean, there’s not a pinch of fat anywhere on you.” She trailed off at the end, realizing what she’d admitted.

  She’d seen me naked.

  The flip side to that was I’d seen her naked as well, which was making it hella difficult sitting next to her now.

  I couldn’t think far enough back to remember when the last time was I had a woman in my car after I had her in my bed. I wasn’t a dick, well I was, but not because I didn’t do second go-rounds or breakfast the next morning. Nothing good ever came from eating breakfast with a woman. Breakfast led to lunch. Lunch led to conversation. Conversation led to false hope. I was not that man. I always made myself perfectly clear at the beginning of every encounter; there would be no calls, there would be no changing me. My demons ran deep, too deep. I would never burden a good woman with the ghosts of my past.

  If that was the case, why was Ivy in my car now?

  Why couldn’t I stop thinking about her all day?

  Why in the fuck had I woken up prepared to make breakfast for her?

  I tried to think about which fast-food joint I wanted to hit in an effort to keep my wayward cock under control. He seemed to be in charge at the moment and that wasn’t something I was wholly comfortable with.

  I was breaking rules.

  Tomorrow.

  Tomorrow I would figure this shit out with Forester and her sister, make sure she was safe and he was in lock up, and I’d send her on her merry way, secure in the knowledge I’d done what I could for her and we both could forget last night and move on.

  I had a plan. It was a good one, too. A safe one. But my chest ached at the thought. Maybe Jasmin was right and all these years of being an angry son-of-a-bitch had caught up with me and I was finally having a heart attack. That was a more likely reason for the pain, not that never seeing her again was physically causing me discomfort.

  “What do you do?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “For work,” she clarified.

  “I own a security firm.”

  “So, you’re not an investor?”

  “No. I was never going to invest in Techwatch. I was hired by Smart Technologies to investigate Forester.”

  I thought we’d gone over this and she understood.

  “I bet you’re expensive. I mean, your office is huge and all that equipment can’t be cheap. You drive a nice Rover. Your apartment is well… big, too.” If she only knew about the sports car and the motorcycles she’d understand how well off I really was. A far cry from the poverty I’d known. “I’m poor.”

  Not this shit again.

  “And?” I bite out.

  “I can’t…”

  “Don’t fucking say you can’t afford my protection.”

  The turn in the conversation made me no longer hungry and I decided to head straight to my house.

  “I was going to say, before you rudely interrupted, I can’t quit my job. I’ll have no way to pay rent. I’m barely making ends meet now.” I turned left, and my building came into view. “Why are we at your house? I thought you were getting something to eat.”

  I pulled in front of the gate for the underground parking and waited for the metal fencing to roll up.

  “I lost my appetite.”

  I drove into the garage and pulled into one of my assigned spots next to the elevator.

  “Then why are we here?”

  “Because you said you were tired and needed rest.”

  “And… you thought that meant taking me back to your place?”

  I didn’t like the clipped tone or the accusation in her voice.

  “You need rest and I need to know you’re safe. I have two extra rooms and security here. You admitted you’re broke. I doubt your building is as safe as mine.”

  My building was safe unless you were Violet or Declan. Both of them seemed to have the ability to slip past the building’s checkpoints and security cameras. Yet another good reason to sell the place and move. I hated unwanted visitors.

  “Safe? Why wouldn’t I be safe? Forester isn’t going to hurt me.”

  “I’m not worried about Forester. I’m worried the minute I drop you off at your house you’ll hightail it out the door to follow Forester around with tonight’s whore. Not to worry, Declan is tailing him.”

  “Why is it your business what I do?”

  It wasn’t my business.

  But I was making it mine.

  I didn’t answer. I got out of the truck, rounded the back, and opened Ivy’s door. Reluctantly, she got out and with big pretty hazel eyes she looked up at me and whispered, “And why do you care so much about who I follow and what I do?”

  That was the million-dollar question.

  Why did I care?

  Not wanting to have this conversation out in the open, I tagged her hand, which I’d been doing a lot, another thing I wasn’t used to or comfortable with. I kept a tight hold liking the way her much smaller hand fit in mine and I guided us to the elevator.

  “You don’t have to drag me everywhere you want me. You know you could ask if you’d like me to follow you somewhere.”

  “Would you come willingly if I asked?”

  “No,” she huffed. I raised my brow in answer. “You’re annoying.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “And you’re rude to your employees.”

  “Heard that, too.”

  I hit the button for the top floor and pushed my keycard into the slot, making the elevator lift.

  “And you’re bossy.”

  That was it.

  Something in the way she sassed and threw attitude made me lose my mind. I had her back against the wall, both of her hands pinned above her head, and my face inches from hers before I’d realized what I was doing.

  “You ain’t seen bossy yet, sweetheart. But you wanna keep throwing me attitude making my dick hard and me crazy, I’ll show you bossy.” Her eyes flared, and I knew she was just as affected as I was. I removed the distance and took her mouth. She moaned and surrendered.

  I took more.

  My dick throbbed between us and she rubbed herself against me.

  Then I remembered.

  I can’t afford you.

  No man is going to help a woman without expecting something in return.

  No one does something for fr
ee.

  I pulled back and stared. Her eyes were still closed, and her face was soft.

  Fuck, she was beautiful.

  And broken.

  I might be a dick for a whole assortment of reasons, but I didn’t take advantage of women. Ever. I’d watched enough dickwads use and hurt my mom growing up to know better. I had to keep my hands and cock to myself. My damn mouth, too. I had no business touching her in any way.

  I wasn’t going to keep her.

  I couldn’t fix her.

  She deserved better.

  “Come on,” I called to her when the doors slid open.

  She stood gazing back at me with such vulnerability I wanted to flinch away. For the first time in my life I wished I was a better man. A man that was whole and complete. I wish I wasn’t so emotionally bankrupt and I could vanquish her demons. But I couldn’t. Not when I couldn’t even conquer my own.

  She stood rooted to the floor. So, once again I grabbed her hand and gave it a tug, pulling her to my front door. I tried to ask nicely and not touch her, but just as she said she wouldn’t, she hadn’t followed my simple request.

  I opened the door and pocketed my keys.

  “Make yourself at home.”

  I didn’t wait for her to reply. I needed a minute alone. And if I didn’t get out of this suit, I was going to suffocate.

  Why did my penthouse suddenly feel smaller than the single-wide I grew up in?

  She shouldn’t be here.

  8

  Ivy

  I shouldn’t be here.

  Zane did crazy things to my head. Things that I’d worked a long time to push away.

  He made me forget the lesson I’d learned.

  He was a wealthy, super-hot guy, and I was… nothing. I didn’t own a home, I rented a shitty apartment because it was close to where I worked, and I could walk.

  Why did he bring me back here? I didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong anywhere near him. Last night when I thought I’d never see him again, none of this bothered me. I knew where I stood, a piece of ass he’d picked up for a mutually beneficial night.

  And holy shit it was beneficial.

  I walked to the bank of windows that overlooked the marina below. It was peaceful way up here, high above the traffic and city bustle. I felt like no one could touch me. I’d never had that. In my twenty-seven years all I’d known was struggle.