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Addictions were a habit that would leave you desperate and willing to crawl to your death for just one more hit.

They made you reckless.

Foolish.

Un-fucking-hinged.

I knew all about them. I was addicted to Ivy in ways that were beyond my comprehension. I looked at my behaviour some days and wondered who the fuck I was and what the fuck inspired me to do most of the shit I did.

But I knew why.

And still, I didn’t change a fucking thing.

The day, six months ago, that I’d stood in her mother’s house and forced Ivy to choose between us was my lowest point. I hadn’t been able to think straight that day, let alone make rash decisions. All because I feared never having another hit.

Our relationship had almost become a casualty of my ultimatum. Ivy chose me and hated me for it every day for a good four months. I fucking hated me for it, but I couldn’t bring myself to take the demand back. She spent her days and nights working and studying. I spent all my time at the clubhouse. We were ships in the night. And as far as our wedding was concerned, neither of us brought it up.

Without my drug of choice, I found another way to medicate myself and quiet my demons. I turned to violence and went on a four-month rampage delivering death and destruction for Jethro in his war with the new Black Deeds president, Zero. It had been a bloody and vicious war, and it honed my skills in the way only four straight months of day in, day out depravity could.

I hardly recognised myself when I looked in the mirror each day. Cold, soulless eyes stared back at me, void of any remorse for the things I did. Without Ivy to hold me at the end of the day, I forgot what compassion was. I had no need for mercy, so I dispensed with it.

My days held one clear goal: protect my club. And I became the master at it.

It took an argument with Margreet to pull me back into line. My mother saved me for the second time in my life.

It was the day that Jethro and Zero called a truce. I turned up at Mum’s place that night, late and half-cut. I’d missed all her Sunday lunches for the past four months and skipped every dinner she’d asked us to attend. Ivy went to all of them, but I couldn’t sit next to her at my mother’s house and pretend shit wasn’t fucked up. I couldn’t sit under the weight of my mother’s gaze and pretend I hadn’t fucked up as badly as I had.

I stumbled into the house just over an hour late, heading straight to the kitchen in an effort to avoid Ivy. The only reason I’d turned up at all was that I needed my birth certificate for some bank account bullshit, and Mum had it.

“Zachary.” Mum’s voice sounded behind me as I bent over to search her fridge for something to eat.

I gripped the fridge door harder, willing her to leave it alone, but I knew she wouldn’t. She’d blown up my phone for the past four months with demands for me to come to my senses, and I’d ignored all of them. This was her first opportunity to tell me exactly what she thought of everything I’d done.

Straightening, I turned to find her watching me, arms crossed over her chest, a stern expression on her face. “Do we have to do this?”

Her brows lifted. “You thought you could show up at my house, drunk, raid my fridge, grab your birth certificate and leave without me asking you to explain your actions? I raised you better than that.”

I walked the couple of steps backward I needed to rest against the kitchen counter. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I blew out a harsh breath. “I’m not in the mood for this tonight.”

“It seems you’re not in the mood for a lot of things lately. Not for your girlfriend or your family anyway.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, wondering how much she knew about my relationship with Ivy. Resting my hands either side of me on the counter, I said, “I’ve been busy with the club.”

She pressed her lips together. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Zac.”

I threw my hands up and pushed off from the counter. “Fuck, Mum, what do you want me to tell you? Do you want to know how badly I screwed shit up with Ivy four months ago? That I’m a bastard who ordered his girlfriend to choose him over her mother? Or maybe you’d like to know how I fill my days doing anything that will drown out the shit that fills my head? You tell me, and I’ll do my best to lay it all out for you in fucking detail.”

I expected her to lay into me for disrespecting her, and I wouldn’t have blamed her, but she surprised me when she uncrossed her arms and came towards me. “Well, that’s a start at least. I can’t say I have much tolerance for your language, but since I haven’t heard your voice for almost four months, I’ll take what I can get at this point.”

Fuck, I was an asshole.

I dropped my head to each side, stretching my sore neck muscles before saying, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I couldn’t.”

She nodded. “Ivy has kept me updated on what’s happening.”

“Really?” That surprised me. I thought she’d have locked that shit down deep and avoided talking about it at all costs.

“Well, I’ve had to drag it from her. You two are as guarded and stubborn as each other. I’m sure she’s only giving me just enough to satisfy my questions, but it’s more than I’ve heard from you.”

“And Bethany? She still not talking to you?”

Sadness filled her eyes. “I haven’t heard from her.”

Fuck, I wanted to throttle that woman.

I jerked my chin towards the dining room where Ivy was. “How is she?”

“How do you think she is?”

My chest tightened at the thought of how my woman was doing. I hadn’t touched her, kissed her or been with her in four months, and we’d barely spoken a word except to discuss household issues. We may as well have been housemates. We weren’t even sharing a bed. I’d gotten to know the fucking couch better than Ivy over the past months.

When I didn’t answer her, she nudged, “Go in and see her. I know she’d like you to.”

I wasn’t convinced. Scrubbing my face again, I shook my head. “No, I’ll just grab my birth certificate and head out. I don’t want to—”

It wasn’t often my mother lost her temper, and when she did, I knew I’d really upset her. This was one of those occasions. Her steely expression more than caught my attention, but it was the way she snapped at me that glued my attention to her. “I don’t know what thoughts are running through your head these days, Zachary, but let me tell you I’m not a fan of them. And I know I taught you how to show people you love them, so I’m uncertain as to why you’re treating Ivy the way you have been for the last four months. You will not be leaving this house tonight until you walk yourself into that room and sit your behind down next to your girlfriend and engage in a conversation with her. Talk about the weather for all I care, but you look her in the eyes and show her that you’re still in this with her. Because if you don’t, you are going to lose that beautiful girl, and only God knows what that will do to the both of you. I do not want to lose my son to the evil in this world, and that is the one thing I do know will happen if you don’t have the love of that woman behind you.”

She had taught me how to show people I loved them, and it was because of the unconditional love we shared that I did as she said. She asked me to do something, I did it. That was one of the only rules I had for myself, and I wasn’t about to break it now.

Ivy looked up the moment I entered the dining room. Her eyes met mine and didn’t let go. She seemed uncertain and didn’t say anything as I took the seat next to her. No one said anything; they simply stared at me waiting for my next move. I didn’t care about them, though. Not right now. The only person on my radar was Ivy.

My gaze roamed over her, taking in everything I hadn’t been paying attention to. Fuck, she’d lost weight, and she didn’t have any spare to begin with. I ran a finger down her cheek as I noted the exhaustion lining it. She didn’t flinch away from me. Instead, she appeared to welcome it, like she’d been waiting forever for my touch.

Before I could draw my hand away from her, she reached up and covered it with her hand. “King,” she whispered, and my soul shattered.

I closed my eyes, unable to let the world in any longer. An ache like I’d never known consumed me. It bled into my bones, ate at my heart, and made me question why the fuck I’d allowed this distance between us to grow. Four fucking months wasted.

When I opened my eyes again, I shifted to the edge of my seat so I could be closer and took hold of her other hand. “I’ve missed you.”

The brush of skin against skin shifted things in my head. Started clearing the confusion I’d existed in for months. When we were good, I was good. And while we weren’t even close to good right now, her touch waved a white flag.

The conversation at the table started up again, allowing us the space to talk between ourselves. Not that I cared if my family listened to what we said. I barely noticed them there. All I saw and felt was Ivy and the desperate need sitting between us to fix the cracks we’d sledgehammered in our relationship.

She squeezed my hand. “Can we go home now?”

I nodded and pushed my chair back, more than ready to take her home.

Mum looked up with a hopeful glint in her eyes. “Ivy has your birth certificate.” Of course she did. I wondered how many times Mum had practiced the speech she’d delivered. She’d managed to hit my triggers, and thank fuck for that.

As we exited the house, Ivy squeezed my hand again. When I looked back at her, she said, “I’m driving. There’s no way I’m letting you get back on that bike tonight.” Her tone was forceful, but I saw the hesitation in her eyes. Her doubt slayed me. We might have lost our way for a while, but I’d never once considered the relationship over. It sucker-punched me that she didn’t know where we stood.

I took her face in both my hands and backed her up against the house. A ferocious urgency consumed me—she had to understand I wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m sorry I’ve been a bastard and shit all over us, Ivy, but I’m here now, and I’m one-hundred-fucking percent back in this with you. You do what you need to do with your mother, mend that fence or whatever, but know this—I will never make you choose between me and anyone ever again. You want me, I’m yours. However you’ll take me. Just fucking promise me you’ll take me. I never wanna be out in the cold again.”

Our bodies were smashed together, our breaths coming hard and fast, and my blood roared in my ears while I waited for her response.

She flung her arms around me as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her mouth crashed to mine, and she kissed me like she hadn’t kissed me in years. She fucking breathed life back into me with that kiss.

We didn’t need words.

We never had.

They just got in our way.

All Ivy and I needed was this.

We needed hands and mouths and to just shut the fucking world out while we showed each other our feelings.

And so my addiction only grew.

My drug of choice came back to me.

The problem with addictions is that in the end they always get you. They shred you, rip your life apart, eat you the fuck up and spit you back out. They consume you, and before you realise what’s happening, you hit rock bottom, and you’re left with nothing. You’re out in the cold without any hope of ever getting another hit.