Pursue (Portland Street Kings Book 4)

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Pursue (Portland Street Kings Book 4) Page 2

by Evie Harper


  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I should have left you alone.” Red stumbles over her words.

  She caught me wiping away my tear. A tight knot forms in my stomach. Nobody but my family has ever seen me cry.

  Ivy turns and places her hand on the door handle. Breathing becomes difficult, as if an invisible force is stopping the air in my lungs from escaping. I’m desperate to keep her here with me, but I have no idea what to say.

  “No, no, no,” I force out, followed by a whispered, “Fuck.” Shaking my head, I clench my eyes closed, begging myself to wake the hell up and stop acting so pathetic.

  Ivy stills and looks at me over her shoulder.

  Reminding myself I’ve talked to plenty of women before, I get my shit together. “You don’t have to go. You caught a King shed a tear, but can I trust you to keep my secret, Red?” I grin and lift an eyebrow.

  Turning to face me, Ivy smiles. Out of nowhere, a heavy weight sits on my chest. I rub under my throat, hoping this sensation passes quickly. What the fuck is wrong with me today?

  Red sits beside me and breaths in deeply. “Fresh air never smells as good as when you leave a bar filled with assholes using lame pickup lines to get you into bed.”

  I whip my head around and narrow my eyes. “Who? Can you point them out to me?”

  Ivy laughs. She thinks I’m joking. I should be, but damn, I’m using all my strength not to get up and storm into the bar and turn those fuckers inside out. For selfish reasons, of course. I want Ivy in my bed tonight, but only for one night.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Red asks softly.

  “No,” I reply bluntly, in a firm tone.

  “Hmmm.” Ivy drags the sound out. “Are you okay?”

  I twist my body toward her, my forehead creasing, thrown by the question. Am I okay? No one has asked me this before. I stay quiet, the answer too complicated for a simple no.

  “Silence is also an answer,” Red states, staring out into the night sky. “If you were okay, yes would have slipped off your tongue.” Her right hand makes a floating motion.

  Why does it feel as if she’s digging? This is what I avoid with women, getting too personal. Biting down hard, causing tightness in my jaw, I demand, “Why do you care?”

  Ivy tilts her head. Her eyes search my face, and a muscle twitches in my cheek. “If you saw me sad, wouldn’t you ask if I was okay?” She leans forward, her brows raised with expectation. She asks plainly and with pure innocence. As if there is only one answer, but it’s not mine.

  No, I wouldn’t ask a stranger if they were okay. An upset woman isn’t my business unless it’s my sister. However, I’ve had one burning question about Red for months now. What caused the sassy spark in her to die that night?

  “The first time I met you. You were fiery, and then suddenly as if a black cloud came over you, you were sad. Why?”

  I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth; the light in her eyes dies. Ivy glances down at the concrete, drawing patterns with her right hand. “My mom.” Her words are whispered, but thick with emotion. “It was the anniversary of her death.” Red looks at her watch. “It’s been two years, two months, and five days since I’ve seen my mom’s eyes.”

  If I wasn’t already on my ass, the grief in her voice would have brought me to my knees.

  Questions sit on the tip of my tongue. What happened? Was anyone there for you? But when tears spill from Ivy’s closed eyes I can’t help but pull her to me. She doesn’t fight my hand slipping around her waist, she settles into my embrace.

  Wrapping my arms around her, warmth pours into my veins and through my bones. I have never wanted to absorb another’s pain more than I do in this moment.

  I want Ivy to know she’s not alone, that I understand the pain she’s going through, even if it’s for different reasons.

  Breathing in deeply, I confess aloud what I’ve only ever allowed myself to know. “No, I’m not okay.”

  Ivy glances up and her glassy eyes lock with mine. “It’s okay to admit you’re hurting or confused about your current place in life. It’s okay not to be okay.”

  With a racing heartbeat, I swallow roughly. Her words hit me harder than she could ever know.

  Ivy lowers her head and burrows deeper into my embrace, or maybe it’s me who’s holding her tighter.

  “Sometimes all I can handle is living one day at a time. There are days when I feel as if I’m lost in a vast ocean, and I’m the only one without oars to help me find my way home.”

  An overwhelming desire to never let Ivy go causes fear to spike through my veins and around my heart. For the first time in my life, I want to protect someone other than myself and my family. Ivy means something to me, and it happened all too quickly, but could she be with someone as broken as me?

  1

  Life Raft

  Present

  Kelso

  Two fucking weeks since I’ve seen my favorite color of red; two weeks of feeling incomplete. My blood boils beneath the surface. With each day that goes by and I’m turned away from seeing Ivy, the more furious I become.

  “Goddammit!” I growl, slamming down the frying pan. I step back from the stove and run my hands through my hair. Why hasn’t Ivy called me? Texted me?

  The nurse I coaxed information out of told me Ivy was conscious and healing. Her leg will be in a cast for six weeks, but otherwise she’s doing well. I’ve been to the hospital every day to be with her, and each time one of her father’s police officers has stopped me. They’re treating her like a child who needs protection, not the twenty-five-year-old woman who lives with her best friend and can take care of herself.

  Thinking about the lengths her father has gone to to keep me away, I wonder if Ivy has asked him to. Does she blame me for her accident? I can’t fault her if she does. If only I didn’t invite her over that day; if only I hadn’t fallen for her. Had Ivy never met me, she’d be safe, not sitting in a hospital bed after being put in a coma with broken bones in her leg.

  “Kelso.” My name is spoken softly and in a tortured tone.

  I turn around. Lana stands on the other side of the counter, her shoulders tense as she bites her bottom lip. Lana has apologized profusely for going rogue, locking herself in Slater’s room and recklessly shooting at Lucini, causing them to drive away at high speeds.

  At first I didn’t want to hear it, but not because I blamed Lana; her causing the accident never crossed my mind. I hadn't the energy to refute something that wasn’t true. I was too busy thinking of ways to get to Ivy, to be near her when she needed me the most. Come to think of it, since then I’ve barely seen Lana. She seems to have stayed right out of my way. Fuck. I’m an idiot.

  “Any news?” she asks in a timid voice, which doesn’t sound like Lana at all.

  I’m about to reassure her what happened to Ivy was not her fault, when Mack walks into the kitchen and halts when he sees us.

  Mack’s eyes narrow on me with accusation. He presses his lips together and heatedly points at me, then to Lana, and motions a finger down his face. I know my brother enough to figure out he’s trying to tell me I made Lana cry. Mack points back to me and then does a slicing gesture across his neck. Well, fuck yeah, I’d be pissed as hell too if someone made my girl cry.

  Lana swivels around, wondering what I’m staring at, and catches Mack’s last hand motion. “Mack! You promised you’d stay out of this.”

  Mack silently zips his lips and crosses his arms in defiance.

  Forcing my gaze to serious so Mack can see I understand what he’s saying, I place a hand up in the air, chest height, telling him I got this and I’m gonna fix it.

  My brother lifts his chin and leaves the room.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lana breathes. “Mack doesn’t get it. To him, I wear a damn halo above my head.” Lana moves her pointer finger around in a circle above her.

  I grin, because she’s right, Mack put Lana on a pedestal a long time ago and no woman will ever match
up to her.

  “It’s me who should apologize, Lana. When I listened to you blaming yourself for Ivy’s accident, I should have made more of an effort to explain. I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t either.”

  Lana shakes her head. “But if I hadn’t shot at Lucini—”

  “Slater wasn’t letting Lucini or his goons anywhere near Della or our front door. There still would have been a shoot-out. You can say a million what-ifs, Lana, but Ivy’s accident isn’t your fault. It’s the fucker who was driving the van, and mine.”

  “What?” Lana asks, surprise in her voice.

  I stroll around the counter, pull a chair out, and sit at the table. “If I hadn’t brought Ivy into my life, none of this would have happened. If anyone is to blame, it’s me.”

  Lana takes the seat next to me and nods in understanding. “I get how you might feel that way, but you can’t allow it to control you or your relationship with Ivy. If Mack or I had thought it was too hard or scary, we wouldn’t be where we are today—in love and very happy.”

  “You know this life, though. What do I say to Ivy? ‘Sorry you were put in a coma, that’s the risk you take when you’re with me’?” I scoff. Saying the words out loud sounded as crazy as I imagined they would be.

  A smile stretches Lana’s face. “Hearing it aloud, it does seem pretty nuts. But, however it may sound, it’s our reality. You, the Kings, were never going to be ordinary, and trust me, nobody wants normal anymore. They want real.”

  Lana looks to her watch and stands, her chair dragging on the wooden floorboards. “Thanks for talking with me about this, Kel, but I better leave before I’m late for work.”

  “Yeah, thank you, too,” I say, rising from my seat. Lana’s about to leave, when I catch movement in the hall. I don’t have to guess who it is; the fucker has been standing there this whole damn time listening in.

  Grasping Lana's left wrist, I place a finger over my lips signaling for her to be silent.

  She tilts her head in confusion.

  I grin. “Are you sure you’re happy with my brother? I bet if you tested us both out, I’d be the King you’d wake up next to every morning.” I end with a wink.

  Lana places her hands on his hips, head tilting further and her eyes narrowing, however, she doesn’t have time to get a word out, because Mack jumps out from around the corner and lunges for me.

  “You little fucker, come here,” Mack grates out.

  I spin Lana and hide behind her. She squeals as I pull her left and then right, keeping Mack at a distance. If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man, and it only makes me laugh louder. Mack and I both still. My brother’s nostrils flare as he scans the room, searching for a way around Lana and the table.

  “That’s what you get for fucking eavesdropping!” I dodge from side to side.

  Mack’s body relaxes and his eyes shoot to Lana. He gives her an apologetic smile.

  Freeing herself from my grasp, she throws her hands up in the air. “I wish I could say I'm surprised.”

  Mack gives her a cheeky smirk and pulls Lana to him. She giggles as he drops kisses on her nose and lips.

  Slater and Piper walk into the kitchen. My eldest brother’s face scrunches up, as if he’s in pain from seeing his brother being intimate in front of him. Piper smiles warmly at them, and I make gagging sounds and bend at the knees, as if I’m about to chuck the breakfast I never got to have all over the ground.

  Mack hears me and his expression changes; his nostrils flare and he gets a crazy look in his eyes. The one that says he will beat my ass.

  Chuckling, I dash to the other side of the table as Mack reaches the spot I was standing in. Slater and Piper continue to make their breakfast as if nothing is going on, and Lana calls out goodbye as she leaves for work.

  Inspecting the back door and the hall, I try to decide which way will be the best route out of the house and into the open air, where I know I can outrun him. I take my chances and decide on the front door. Sidestepping, as if I’m heading for the back door, I run toward the hall. Mack moves toward the back door and then almost slips as he tries to turn when he sees I’ve tricked him. A laugh explodes from my mouth. Arriving at the front, I push the screen door open so hard it swings and hits the house. I flinch at the noise and then halt, the fun and games ceasing to exist when I see Ivy’s best friend, Becca, standing in the front yard talking to Lana.

  Mackson runs into my back, pushing me forward a few steps. I catch my balance as he stills behind me. “Who’s this?” Mack growls.

  “Calm down,” I order in a firm tone. “Her name’s Becca, she’s Ivy’s best friend, she’s cool.”

  Struggling to slow my heartbeat, I step down the porch steps and walk to Becca. Why is she here? To give me a message from Ivy?

  “There he is,” Lana says, pointing to me. Lana smiles at Mack and heads to her car.

  Becca doesn’t smile. Her eyes shift from warm and welcoming to a thundering black storm. “Kelso King, you sorry excuse for a supposed boyfriend. You have some serious explaining to do.”

  I had expected Becca to cuss me out the next time I ran into her. Her best friend was in a car accident, she’d want to lay blame, and I was the one who should have protected Ivy. However, I never imagined Becca would have the nerve to come to my front door and confront me here.

  Becca’s tiny compared to my brothers. She comes up to about my chest height, and her usually shoulder-length hair reaches the middle of her back as she arches her head to look up and yell at me. She may be small, but the girl’s got balls.

  Becca throws her hands up in the air. “Do you have better things to do than go and see your girlfriend in the hospital?”

  I grimace. My chest grows tight and my body heats. Why does it sound like Becca’s accusing me of abandoning Ivy?

  "Hold up, hold up,” Mack interjects. “Kelso has done everything to see Ivy. It’s her father and his minions who aren't letting him through.”

  Becca’s eyes jump back to me, surprise glowing in them. “You’ve been trying to see her?”

  “Every single day, but I can’t get further than the first floor. All the elevators and stairs are guarded by officers. I couldn't even bribe the fuckers. I had hoped Ivy would have found out from a staff member by now.”

  Becca shakes her head. “No, she hasn’t. Ivy’s asked her dad and the nurses if you’ve come to see her and they told her no. She'll go ballistic when she hears about this. Her father has issues, serious crazy issues.”

  I shrug. “I get it, he’s her father. She got in an accident right where her thug of a boyfriend lives. I can understand why he wouldn’t want me near her.”

  Scrunching up her nose, Becca disagrees. “Except she’s twenty-five and the last person who should make decisions for her is her father.”

  My eyes narrow on my girl’s best friend. “Why, what am I missing?”

  She breathes in deeply and places her hands on her hips. “Let’s just say, since Ivy lost her mom, her father hasn’t been very fatherly or anything at all. When Beth passed away, Eric Johnson wasn’t around to help his daughter grieve. He changed. He took the bitter and selfish route, but still tries to control Ivy from a distance. Knowing Mr. Johnson almost all my life, I shouldn’t be surprised by what he’s done. He isn’t the straitlaced cop everyone thinks he is.”

  Mack tenses beside me. I understand why. Ivy’s dad is the sheriff, and if he’s a dirty cop then shit could get messy for us real quick. However, Ivy only described her dad as someone she looked up to, her white knight. One of the good guys. Those were the words she used, and why I confidently told my family dating Ivy wouldn’t cause any problems for us.

  “Ivy never talked about her father this way to me.” My voice comes out tight and unsure.

  Becca scoffs. “He’s her father. Ivy’s not a daddy’s girl, but she looked up to her mother, so much so, Ivy only sees him through her mother’s eyes, and Mrs. Johnson loved Eric very much. I’m not saying Ivy’s blind to her dad, but s
ince her mother passed I’ve watched her make excuse after excuse for him. Sooner or later she will run out of explanations for him and when she does, I hope you’ll be there to help her, because he’s the only family she has left.”

  My chest squeezes. How can an open-minded and kindhearted woman who doesn’t have a judgmental bone in her body come from a dirty, asshole cop like Eric Johnson?

  “Come on, follow me to the hospital and I’ll get you in to see Ivy, even if I have to scream the place down until she hears me.”

  I turn to my brother. “Fetch my keys for me?” Mack nods stiffly and heads inside.

  Becca opens the front gate and turns to wait for me. “Thank you, Becca, you’re a good friend.”

  She shrugs. “You make her happy, happier than I’ve seen Ivy in a long time.”

  Waiting for Mack, we stand in an awkward silence, but only until I notice Becca’s eyes fixed on me as she bites her lower lip, like she’s not sure about her next words. “When you didn’t come to the hospital, Ivy was hurt. She’s tried not to show it, but after a while she couldn’t hide it anymore.” My body tenses as a weight hits my chest. “She’s fallen for you, Kelso, and as her best friend I beg you, don’t hurt her. Ivy’s world has changed a lot in the past few years, and I see her clinging to you like a life raft. If you come with me now, make sure it’s because you feel the same way, otherwise if you don’t, we can both agree I never came here today.”

  My knees feel weak and warmth races across my chest. Could Ivy love me?

  We haven’t said the L-word to each other. I talk a big game to my brothers, but truth be told, Ivy and I have not had sex yet. I’m too terrified of scaring her away. Each time I sensed her leading us toward intimacy, I’ve come up with excuses: yard work, cooking dinner for my family, work, family meetings. Before the accident I had sensed her growing frustration.

  However, I revealed my past to Ivy: my family’s abusive childhood and the years of living on the streets. Ivy was shocked at first, but she never flinched away from me or held pity in her eyes. She grew angry at the world, but then saw where we are now, how far we’ve come. Since then she’s never pushed the subject. Ivy allows me to share little by little. Still, I’ve struggled with broaching the subject of sex, how screwed up I am when it comes to naked bodies, skin on skin, and being touched. When it hit me that I wanted to have the conversation with her, I realized how far I’d fallen for Ivy Johnson. I’d already knocked down one wall, exposing my past and letting her see my fears, now I needed to show her my weakness. Only one more hurdle and then I can be myself, no more hiding or fearing I’m not enough for her. It’s someone even I’ll have to get used to, because I’ve never allowed myself the gift of being me. If I’m Ivy’s life raft, then she’s the air that fills it for me. I could only dream that she’d want to cling to me for the rest of our lives. I’d carry her anywhere.

 

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