Meant for Me (Take Me Now)

by Sullivan, Faith

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ivy

  I can’t believe I’m actually going through with this, but what choice do I have? Ryan peers at me, flicking the ashes of his cigarette out the window. Every instinct in my body is telling me to run in the opposite direction. So what am I doing? I’m walking toward him. Typical me.

  But I can’t go home with Eric. Not after that crazy marriage proposal. I don’t feel comfortable sharing the same roof with him, never mind the same bed. He expected me to choose between him and the baby. Either or. Like I can’t have both. As if he’s the only one who gets to decide whether or not this baby lives or dies. He thinks he can play God. But he’s forgetting one very important thing. I get a say too.

  He’s always been an all-or-nothing kind of guy, but this is taking things a little too far. I know what happened with Cassidy is distorting his perspective, but I’m not about to have him railroad me into getting an abortion just to give him some peace of mind. Who says anyone’s life is guaranteed? I could wake up tomorrow and get hit by a bus. He can’t protect me from destiny. No one can, and he’s foolish to try. Didn’t he learn anything from Cassidy’s death? He can’t control what happens to me, and if he’s not going to be with me on this, then he’s against me. There’s no other way to put it. I’m not backing down. This baby needs me. And if I have to raise it as a single mother, then so be it. At least it’ll be alive.

  Tramping carefully through the snow, I stick my phone back in my purse. Hanging up on Lauren probably wasn’t the smartest move, but that was such an insensitive gesture sending Ryan. I mean, really? I know she wants to gloat and rub it in that I came crawling back to her, but I haven’t seen Ryan since the night of the gala. And I feel nauseous just looking at him. The last thing I want to do is get inside his Jeep, back to the scene of the crime.

  I don’t like playing the victim, but I’m placing myself in a very perilous position. Girls around the world are no doubt screaming at me to turn around and wait for Eric. It is the more sensible option, but he really hurt me just now. I need some space. I need to give him time to come to his senses. Let him see how much he misses me and how he forced me onto this more treacherous path. Sure, I want him to feel guilty and grovel at my feet. He needs a rude awakening in order to see things clearly and understand just how much he has to lose. I’m not a piece of property. I’m practically his wife, and he has to take me seriously. We’re either going to be equals in this partnership or we’re not going to get married at all. I’m not entering into such a profound commitment unless he’s willing to meet me halfway. It doesn’t bode well if we can’t even compromise at the very beginning. How can he expect me to journey through life with him if he’s going to insist on always taking the easy way out when he’s scared?

  I’m at the side of the Jeep, but I jump back when Ryan leans over the seat to unlock the door. His sudden movement reminds me too much of that night. When he forced himself on top of me. I shudder and not from the snow blowing in my face. I open the door and get it before I can change my mind. Everything about this feels wrong, but I’m out of options. Like I could really go home to the projects and live with my alcoholic mother? I don’t think so. Anything’s better than that.

  “Ivy,” Ryan says curtly, hitting the gas as we drive by Eric’s truck. I feel like I’m going to cry as I watch it slip out of view and get swallowed by the storm.

  “Ryan,” I mutter just as dispassionately. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m waiting to find out.” He doesn’t put his cigarette out and a nasty draft is coming in through his window. Already he has two strikes against him. He really knows how to make a pregnant woman feel comfortable. But when has he ever put someone else’s needs ahead of his own?

  “So we’re just going to drive around in a snowstorm? That’s smart. This piece of junk can barely hold the road on a summer day. We’re probably going to end up in a ditch somewhere.” I’m in a foul mood and I don’t care if it shows. I’m not going out of my way to be pleasant to him. He doesn’t deserve it.

  “You didn’t seem to care what I drove before.” He curses, swerving to avoid a runaway shopping cart from plowing into us.

  “I have a baby to think about now. And if I recall, you’re not exactly the safest driver in the world,” I retort.

  I think I’ve been with him through two fender benders and five speeding tickets, but he’s still on the road. Must be nice to have Daddy pay for every mistake. His car insurance rate must be through the roof. Just wait until he gets picked up for driving under the influence. It’s only a matter of time. I’d love to see how his father is going to get him out of that, being underage and all.

  “Well that lasted long,” he says, blowing a puff of smoke in my face.

  “What did?” I cough, waving my hand to clear the air.

  “Your happily ever after,” he sneers. “What, did your farmer prince turn into a steaming turd?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Ry,” I lash out at him. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, so don’t even go there.”

  “Wow, you’re right back where you started,” he drones on. “But now you’re knocked up and homeless. I’ve known you almost all my life, and I never thought you’d turn into your mother.”

  “I’m nothing like my mother!” I shout back.

  “Oh yeah? You dropped out college with a year to go. You have no job, no money. Sure, you’re not a total alcoholic, not yet. But your prospects aren’t very promising. You kicked your baby daddy to the curb for whatever reason and now you’re back asking my stepsister for another handout. You’re the definition of a strong, independent woman,” he laughs, tossing his cigarette butt and rolling up the window. “There, is that better?”

  I ignore his small concession and remain quiet. What if I am like my mother? If I didn’t go out drinking with Sophie, maybe this baby would be okay. I feel a small twinge in my stomach. Oh no! I can’t get all excited. I was doing so well all week. No spotting. No cramping. I take some deep breaths to steady by heart rate.

  “Yep, you’re still the same ungrateful bitch,” he mutters.

  I bite my tongue and try to focus on good thoughts.

  “Just think, if we did have sex that night, that baby could’ve been mine,” he gloats.

  I grip my knees with my hands and close my eyes.

  “Oh, c’mon. Are you really gonna act like that? You turned me down, remember? If anyone has a right to be pissed, it’s me,” he says, pointing his thumb at his chest.

  “Your friend, Ben, doesn’t seem to think so.” I steel myself against the seat as soon as the words are out of my mouth.

  He hits the brakes involuntarily and we skid on a patch of ice. Luckily, there’s no one in front of us. But it didn’t take much to prove that my assumption is right on target.

  “What the fuck does he have to do with anything?” he leers at me.

  “Quite a lot, I’d say.” I strive to sound disinterested, even though I know I’m playing with fire.

  “Ben is a fucking pussy. That’s what he is. And anyone associated with him is a fucking loser.” He spews his venomous insults like he’s shooting a machine gun, one right after the other.

  “Hmm, looks like I hit a nerve,” I chuckle, bracing myself against the door handle. I’m on hazardous ground, and there’s no telling how he’s going to react.

  “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? You don’t know shit about me and Ben!” he rages on.

  “So there is a ‘you and Ben’? Interesting.” This is almost fun.

  He drives the Jeep over a snow bank and against a curb. “Not another word. Do you hear me?” His voice is so low. It scares me. He’s leaning over me again and I don’t like it. I’m just about to get out of the Jeep when his phone rings.

  “Yeah?” he growls, answering it.

  I sit up in my seat as he draws back, straining to hear the other side of the conversation. That was close, but if we have to stay in this Jeep much longe
r, I don’t think he’s going to be able to control his temper. I know how he is.

  “You want me to take her where?” he asks, wrinkling his brow.

  Oh great, this sounds promising.

  “Lauren, are you sure?” he questions her, shaking his head.

  What evil plan has the wicked witch cooked up now?

  “All right, but I think you’re crazy,” he needles her. “Yes, she can hear me. So what?”

  So Lauren doesn’t like me seeing the discord in their ranks. Why am I not surprised?

  “You owe me big time for this because I don’t want to go anywhere near that place,” he seethes, his eyes narrowing.

  Oh God, where is he taking me?

  “Fine, I’ll call you when it’s done,” he scowls. “Bye.”

  The tires squeal as they turn helplessly against the snow, striving for any type of traction. That’s it. If he has to get out and push, I’m stealing his Jeep and leaving him here. It’d serve him right.

  But somehow he gets it moving again and heads out into the countryside. I glance worriedly as the familiar landmarks start to get fewer and fewer and we enter into a territory I’ve never been before. The Jeep is chugging hard through the snow, since these back roads aren’t cindered or plowed. The only thing saving us is the four-wheel drive. Despite our unknown destination, I cross my fingers, hoping we make it because we’re miles away from any kind of assistance out here.

  Soon, a clapboard house comes into view. It’s small but in good repair. It’s old, but it has a cozy feel to it, like it’s been lived in for generations. It’s definitely giving off a homey vibe. So why is Ryan so irritated? Can the person who lives here really be that bad? Visions of the gingerbread house that ensnared Hansel and Gretel float through my mind as I swallow the lump in my throat.

  The porch light is on like someone’s expecting us, and the snow has been swept off the steps. It’s not exactly rolling out the welcome mat, but whoever it is at least is making an effort to be hospitable.

  “All right, get out,” Ryan barks, gesturing toward the house.

  “What you’re not coming with me?” I ask, suddenly not wanting him to leave.

  “This is the end of the line for me, babe. I’m not going anywhere near that place.” He holds up his hand like he’s wardening off some type of voodoo curse.

  “Well, thanks for going out of your way to reassure me of your stepsister’s wacky intentions. What the heck I am supposed to say when they open the door? Do they even know who I am and what I’m doing here?” I stall, trying to buy some time.

  “It’s all taken care of,” he remarks offhandedly, but I don’t feel reassured.

  “I don’t have any of my clothes or even a toothbrush with me—” I entreat him, but he’s prepared for this.

  “Lauren’s got it under control. She’ll be sending over what you need, including a laptop so you can get to work. That’s why you’re here, right? To work?” His stare gives me the creeps, like I’ve sold my soul to the devil and now I’m Lauren’s slave for life.

  “Awesome,” I deadpan, lowering one foot out of the Jeep and into the blistering snow.

  Ryan doesn’t wish me goodbye or good luck or anything to send me on my way. So I slam the door and hustle onto the porch. I don’t even get a chance to knock as the front door opens, and I rush inside to get out of the wind.

  I’m still trying to catch my breath as the roar of the storm fades into the background. There’s a fire blazing in the hearth, and two cups of cocoa are situated on a tray next to an oversized recliner. The TV is on and a cat is stretched lengthwise on top of the couch. The whole scene screams comfort and joy.

  I wheel around, lowering my scarf, and find myself face to face with an absolute stud. I openly gape at him, not quite believing what I’m seeing. I was expecting an ax murderer and instead I’m gazing at an Adonis.

  “You must be Ivy,” he smiles at me. “I guess we’re going to be roommates for a while. Let me take your coat so you can warm up by the fire.”

  I automatically obey him without thinking twice. I hand him my wet things robotically, as if in a trance. He looks at me with compassion, and his eyes remind me of someone, but my brain is too jumbled to make the connection.

  “Do I know you?” I ask, trying to place him in my mind but failing miserably.

  “I don’t think so,” he chuckles.

  “But you look so familiar,” I mutter, drinking him in.

  “A lot of people tell me I resemble my brother, so that’s probably why,” he remarks, shrugging his broad shoulders.

  “Who’s your brother?” I ask as he offers me his arm as I start to wobble a little while removing my boots.

  “Steady there,” he says, his voice deep and warm. “I don’t want a pregnant lady falling under my roof.”

  “You seem to know everything there is to know about me, but you still didn’t answer my question.” I glance up at him, trying not to focus on the fact that my hand is wrapped around his bicep.

  “Well, being the unemployed older brother of the star quarterback isn’t something I like to brag about,” he admits, staring down at me.

  “Wait a minute. Your brother is—?” I stutter, realizing the full awkwardness of the situation Lauren has placed me in.

  “Ben,” he replies, gauging my reaction. “I’m Tim, the leading man of the screenplay you’re about to write. Pleased to meet you, Ivy Thompson.”

  Hold Me Tight

  (Take Me Now, #3)

  by Faith Sullivan

  April 2014

  The trilogy concludes.

  Will Eric be able to win Ivy back?

  Message from the Author

  I really hate talking about myself. My goal is to have the shortest author bio imaginable. I would much rather have a conversation with my readers.

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  Are there characters that you can't get out of your head?

  Let me know!

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  faithsullivanwrites@hotmail.com

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  Heartbeat by Faith Sullivan

  Katie and Adam are afraid of love.

  She carries the scars of a first kiss gone terribly wrong.

  He uproots his life to flee the stinging betrayal of an ex.

  When trust is no longer an option, all romance is suspect.

  As a young paramedic, Adam rescues people for a living but cannot save himself. Katie, just out of high school, struggles with a tortured home life she cannot escape.

  Everything changes when Katie hops into the front seat of Adam's ambulance. Overwhelmed by what they are feeling, neither possess the confidence to make the first move. They walk away from each other, full of regret.

  To find her, Adam risks his future. To be with him, Katie sacrifices her security.

  Little do they know, what little time they do have, is being measured by a heartbeat that is slowly dying out.

  Chapter One

  Katie

  CRASH!

  The force of the impact is jarring, but it doesn’t completely startle me. A split second before the SUV hurtles into Grandma’s driver’s side door, I catch a glimpse of it in my peripheral vision. Grandma isn’t so lucky.

  “Are you okay?” I gasp.

  “I think so,” she says, moving to unfasten her seat belt.

  The driver of the SUV is already outside of his vehicle inspecting the damage. It is a miracle Grandma isn’t trapped behind the steering wheel. She is able to open her dented car door. She struggles to stand, wincing in pain. The passenger in the SUV is already on his cell phone, probably calling 911.

  I don’t want to get out of the car. It is a February afternoon. The temperature is hovering in the teens. The wind is whipping through the movie
theater parking lot as snow flurries begin to fall. I crouch down in my seat. Why did this have to happen? I don’t want to deal with a guy who drives like Rambo, taking down every elderly woman in his path. Maybe if I close my eyes, it will all go away.

  A speeding police car with lights flashing arrives on the scene. Do they really need to make such an entrance? They probably just left the donut shop down the road. No need to give in to the sugar rush.

  Grandma slowly sits back in her seat as Rambo’s father comes over to our car.

  “Ma’am, are you all right?” he asks.

  “I don’t know…I’m awfully sore,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck.

  “It’s not a good idea for you to be moving around. Why don’t you just sit back and stay as still as you can. The police are here now. Let me go and talk to them,” he says.

  He strides into the wind head-on as his son bends down to analyze the damage to his front fender. Really? He can’t even come over and see if the old lady he hit is okay? He has to send his dad? Way to be a man.

  I lean forward and open the glove compartment to find the insurance information and registration card.

  “Here comes someone now. Are you able to roll down the window, Grandma?” I ask.

  “I think so…let me see,” she says, hitting the power button.

  “How are you doing, ladies? Anyone seriously hurt?” asks a female police officer, her blonde curly hair blowing around her head like a tornado as the wind begins to increase.

  “Well, I feel a little banged up,” Grandma replies.

  “Look straight ahead, and keep your head against the headrest. Do not move a muscle. I don’t even want to know what happened. We’re going to give you an incident report that you can fill out later and drop off at the station next week. For now, just sit tight until the ambulance arrives,” the officer says with practiced authority.

  “I don’t think I need an ambulance,” Grandma says.

  “Grandma, it’s better if you go and get checked out at the hospital. Just to be sure,” I insist.

  “Listen to your granddaughter. We’ll all feel better if you let them examine you,” the officer responds.