Ivy
It was hard not to overhear the conversation between Kelly, Christine, and Creed. I know that Christine was talking just loud enough for me to hear her every word on purpose, bringing her private conversation with him to everyone in the whole building’s ears, whether they wanted to hear it or not.
As much as I didn’t want her opinions of me to sting, they did. But everything she said didn’t hurt as much as Creed’s reply to it all.
“I could never really want some girl who doesn’t know how to get what she wants. Someone who is afraid to grab life and just take it.”
Those words echoed inside of my brain as I walked away from the Edge, embarrassed and hurt. I could feel the thunder of my blood in my veins. It felt like every single person inside of the building was watching me leave, could see the shame written in every line of my body. To them, I was a failure. But even worse, I was a failure to myself.
And I was a failure to the man I loved.
It’s stupid to love Creed; there is no way he will ever return it. I will be one of those horror stories that ends in tragedy. The air outside was colder, colder than it should have been. I felt like I had just walked into dead winter without a coat.
Shivering, I started walking. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I was very sure I couldn’t stay at the Edge. Sleeping in the same room as Creed, knowing what he thought of me, sounded like slow torture.
The parking lot of the warehouses around the Edge were empty, no one around. The whole world seemed abandoned. I kept walking, my mind reeling. No matter what you do, it will never be enough for Creed. He’ll find fault in everything you do for the Edge, everything you bring to his table. Unless you do something stupid and big. Something he’ll have no choice but to recognize.
That idea I’d been forming my head earlier poked back into the front of my brain. But that idea was crazy; too crazy. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t.
But then I could hear Christine’s insults. I could hear Pearl’s words echoing around in my skull too. And worst of all, I could hear Creed again.
“I could never really want some girl who doesn’t know how to get what she wants. Someone who is afraid to grab life and just take it.”
Feeling stupid and not at all brave, I walked to the bus station. Even this late at night, the buses would be running. The city never slept and neither didn’t the transportation systems. I got on, handing several coins to the sleepy-looking bus operator before taking a seat. There was no one on this bus but me and a very young couple. I ignored them as they made out in the back seat, their technicolored hair mingling together into a rainbow as they sucked each other’s faces.
The city streamed by, all of its brilliant colors muted by the weird copper color of the streetlights. Like this, the city looked cleaner, emptier. It was like nothing could touch the bronzed statue that was the streets. Not until the sun came up and washed it away.
I ignored everything until we pulled up to the intersection I wanted. I pressed the button indicating I wanted to get off, and the bus screeched to halt at the corner. The streets were alive with noise as I stepped off of the bus. But I still had a long way to walk.
I was exhausted, but I forced myself to take the long way around. I needed to remember every little thing that had been ripped from me. Perhaps it would cement this crazy idea in my head if I could see it.
So I walked down the long, brick-paved street in the center of the city, where my new apartment would have been if it wasn’t for Janice. I glanced around the beautiful, quiet, walk-only street, staring up at the swirling, wrought iron balcony railings, trying to remember which one was going to be mine. Which of those amazing views would have been mine? But I could no longer remember; was it the second to the left or second to the right? I kept walking, trying not to hover too long in one place. Someone might mistake me for a homeless person and call the police on me.
Ironic, at the moment, I am homeless. I could feel a weight in my stomach as that thought really hit home. I couldn’t go back to the motel. I’d been forced to give it up when I could no longer pay the bills. Creed hadn’t been giving me a paycheck.
I had seventeen dollars left to my name. Outside of that, I really truly had nothing. In all honesty, I didn’t even own a change of clothing; I had been wearing the outfit for the past few days, only switching it out for one of Pearl’s castoffs when I had to wash it.
The worst has truly happened then. I could not be further away from the life my father had wanted for me. I couldn’t be further from the life I’d wanted for me.
I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the walk from the paved stones over to the paved streets, the sadness and depression that had been a part of my life for the last few months melted away. In its wake came a smoldering rage that started in my belly and started to slowly spread outward like a forest fire.
My broken, leaky boots made a soft quacking sound on the slightly damp pavement as I walked up Cardinal and 7th. There it was. Tiny and insignificant in this little town, but it had been mine. My tiny little studio apartment I’d had before I’d lost everything. It was the first time in my life I’d lived alone. The first time I had space to myself that I could do whatever I wanted with.
My eyes teared up as the smolder in my stomach burst into flames. But my tour wasn’t done. I needed to see the rest. I needed to remember.
So I kept going, feeling the rage grow with every single step. I could feel it burning along my veins and seething across my bones. Every step that brought me closer to that little shop. I knew it would be closed. I knew Janice would go back to her apartment, sleeping soundly off of the comfort of my dollar.
By the time I reached the shop, it felt like my whole body was aflame. I was ready for war, and I knew just what to do about it.
Although there was a still a part of me that wanted to argue, that wanted to stop and think it over before I committed, there was also a big part of me that just was dying to be reckless. I never knew it existed until now, seething just under the surface, waiting for its opportunity to make me do something insane.
The storefront was closed down, but a light was on somewhere in the store. Perhaps it was Janice, keeping up the books, studying the trends of my money as it flowed into her pocket. The streets were hushed like they waited to see what I would do next. Hands in my pockets against the chilly evening, I watched the light inside. The rage inside still burned so brightly, more brightly than anything I remember feeling for the last few months. The fog of my indecision lifted, like dawn over the clouds.
Oh yes, I thought my mouth curling up into a smile I didn’t recognize. “I’m going to do the stupid thing. Then, all of this will be mine again.”
The thrill of it poured over me like a drug. I liked the feeling of doing something wrong. I couldn’t wait to see what Janice’s face looked like when I finally came for her. I hoped to watch her world crash around her ears just like my world had crashed around mine.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a business card. Carlos had slipped it to me during Creed’s first infiltration of the Carrion Club. It had nothing on it but a phone number. I pulled it and fifty cents out of my pocket, trying not to think about the dwindling money I had left in my clothes.
It took me a few blocks of walking to find a working payphone; there were precious few of them left in a world that was crowded with cell phones. But there was one at the 7-11 close to my old motel room. I put the quarters in, my fingers trembling with a combination of excitement and nerves.
I recognized the voice that answered the phone. “Hello, Ms. Ivy.” Carlos sounded just as icy as ever, his voice empty and grave.
I swallowed, trying to wet my suddenly incredibly dry mouth. “Carlos. I want to make another deal with you.” Silence reigned for a few heartbeats, but it felt like an eternity. I twirled the nasty black cord around my fingers, gripping the receiver in white-knuckled fingers.
Finally, he answered. “I’m listening.”
“I will guarantee a meeting between you and Creed Carver.”
I could practically hear him blink in surprise. “If?” he prompted a kind of relief in his voice.
I grinned. “I just need a quick favor. Do you have a few men you can spare?”
“I might. Tell me about your plan.”
So I told him. Before the end of the conversation, Carlos was chuckling. “I believe you have yourself a deal. Good luck, Ms. Ivy. I look forward to meeting with your Creed.”