Ivy
So I was right after all. I listened as the noise of the invasion drifted away, leaving the groans of the injured and the orders of those trying to put the clubhouse back together. Carlos and I stood on top of a catwalk, walking as the men started on rebuilding and healing.
“You let Creed just waltz in here. Why didn’t you talk to him?” The question sounded incredibly naive, even to me, but I couldn’t seem to help asking.
Carlos nodded, his eyes locked on everyone down below. “Yes. I was hoping-- Well, I suppose I hoped for too much. It seems that Creed will not stand up to Kelly. I wonder if that means there is no hope left for us.”
I swallowed, my eyes tracing the outlines of the men and women down below. There was a lot of blood, too much blood. I wondered if anyone had died during the assault. Or if anyone would die soon from their wounds. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t worth anything to you, or the Devil’s Edge. Or the city.” Or to Creed. That thought stung like a bee. I couldn’t seem to breathe around the idea that Creed had left me, for all he knew, to die alone with these people. Or worse.
“It is not your fault, Ms. Ivy. I misunderstood my enemy. And that was my fault. Perhaps--” But his voice faded off, and he never finished his thought.
“Will you send me away?”
“I did promise, did I not?” he answered, his eyes staring through the ceiling into whatever thoughts clouded his mind. “And so you shall.”
“I’d like to stay for a day or two and help out; I’m pretty good with bandages and minor injuries.” I looked down at my hands. Not six months ago, these fingers were manicured, the nails long and shaped. But that seemed like a whole lifetime ago. Between work at the diner and all of the damage they had taken over the last 24 hours, I had the hands of my grandfather. He was a carpenter, and I remembered almost nothing about him, except for how rough his hands were.
Carlos’ empty eyes narrowed at me, suspicious. “And why would want to do that?”
“I feel as though some of this is my fault. I should have tried harder. Should have done something differently.”
Carlos nodded. “Perhaps. You can stay if you like, just so long as you don’t leave the building. You are much stronger than you look.” He stood up a little straighter, turning on the catwalk to walk back towards his office. I watched him for a moment before turning the other direction to head back to down to the ground floor. “You surprised me, Ms. Ivy. And I am not often surprised.”
Tending to the sick was just as difficult as it had been at the Edge. I felt like I was back there, looking into every face I tended for a familiar feature. I knew none of these men, but all of their faces seemed familiar. Perhaps it was the universal expressions of pain and hopelessness that all of the injured shared.
Perhaps I was just trying to come up with ways to distract myself from my thoughts.
But no matter what I did, they echoed inside of my brain like a mantra. Creed didn’t want you. Creed didn’t want you. Creed didn’t…
I hadn’t expected him to rescue me, but I didn’t realize how desperately I’d hoped to be wrong.
So I bandaged and taped, mopped up blood, and held hands. I held buckets of water and held crying women. I watched men drift into pained sleep and wondered if they would ever wake again. The Carrion didn’t even question who I was. All they knew was that I was helping, and that was all that seemed to matter to them.
My old guard, the one Carlos had bloodied for threatening me, was there on the clubhouse floor. He groaned with his injuries. His eye was still swollen, his lip still split, but he’d added a few new injuries to his repertoire. A long gash snaked down his side, another on his left arm. I contemplated skipping over him considering how he treated me but changed my mind. I was no saint, but I wouldn’t skip over a person in need. I’d been in need too many times to count, and no one had ever been around to help. I didn’t want anyone, even an asshole rapist with no morals to speak of, to suffer completely alone.
So I tended his wounds. They really needed stitches, but I had none. I made do with what was available to me. “What’s your name, soldier?” I asked, but received no response. In fact, he didn’t respond to any of my questions. But I kept talking anyway. Talking kept the madness away.
“You look like you took a nasty fall; does this hurt? Can you feel pain here? No?” I pressed into his stomach gently, wincing in empathetic pain. “I think you broke a rib, my friend. You’ll need bed rest and some tight bandages around your chest and stomach.”
“Why are you helping me?” he whispered finally, unable to keep his peace any longer.
“Because you need help,” I answered, helping him to sit up as I wrapped the bandage as tightly as I could around his rib. He winced but didn’t complain. “You’re doing great.” After I got him wound up, I laid him back down. “Now you stay in bed for a couple of weeks while that heals; doctors orders.”
He chuckled weakly, even though it hurt. “Thanks, doc. For everything.”
I felt a little like a fraud, helping here. But I kept at it anyway. It made me feel like I could do something that was worth doing. And it also kept my thoughts busy.
Some of the time.
Still, I felt like an idiot. Who could be dumb enough to fall for Creed Carver? He was a promised heartbreak from the very beginning. He’d never even been kind to me. Not once. Everything pointed to him not caring about me at all. I felt used, stupid, and dirty. Very, very stupid.
I felt worse because after everything, I still wanted him to come get me.
I was happy that Carlos was kicking me out of town. I was pretty sure there was exactly nothing left for me, here. My shop was gone. Without Josh and Pearl, I didn’t have any friends either. So what did it matter what city I found myself? I would be starting over new regardless. It might as well be in a place where I don’t have bad memories waiting for me around every corner.
My father had always had a soft spot for our little city; he’d grown up here, met my mother here. His parents lived here and died here. My mother died in childbirth here, and he died in a car accident here. None of them ever left.
I’d even been born and raised here. I went to school here and became an orphan here. But that didn’t mean I had to stick around after his death. In fact, he would have been the first person to tell me to head out if I wasn’t happy here.
Perhaps away from the memories of Janice and Creed, I could be happy. Eventually.
Caught up in my thoughts, I barely noticed the sudden rush of whispers. The chatter got louder and louder, until I could no longer ignore it. Something was happening, and no one knew what to do about it. I glanced around, trying to see what all of the fuss was about.
Much to my surprise, it was Creed, standing in the middle of the hall like he owned it. “I am here for Ivy Simmons, and I’m not leaving without her!” I gaped at him, unable to believe my eyes. Perhaps I was hallucinating…
My heart swelled up inside my breast until I thought I might burst. My limbs felt like they were made from rubber, and my voice vanished without a trace. Static filled the space between my ears, and I could no longer think. All I could do was stare. Creed. Creed is here. For me.
Suddenly Carlos was by my side, his hand locked around my elbow. “It seems I have won our bet after all, Ms. Ivy.” He was smiling, a real, genuine smile.
And for once I returned it.