Ivy

The chilly air stung my nose and sent a numbing cold across my skin. Gray and threatening clouds flowed freely across the sky, promising the first signs of snow. The freezing temps and snow never bothered me; I was used to it. I loved it really. The holidays. Cade’s birthday. Christmas break from school.

Most of all, I loved the way the sun glistened across the smooth blankets of white while I woke up on Christmas morning with my dad already waiting for me to open gifts. Him telling me how he loved wrapping presents and waiting for me to go to bed before he put them under the tree. A tradition. It seemed the older I got, the earlier he rose. Clanging the pots and pans as loud as he could to wake me.

I slumbered downstairs, thumping my head against my dad’s chest and groaning that it was five in the morning.

“Humor your old man, would ya? It won’t be long before my baby girl leaves me to experience college life. Won’t be long after that when you are teaching kids with special needs. So proud of you, sweetheart. I have to set some traditions to make you want to come back home during the holidays, don’t I? Waking up to her favorite breakfast, your old man giving you the things you deserve, and seeing those happy eyes.”

“Cade and I will always come home, Daddy. Besides, I’m only going to college in the city. It’s not like I’m flying to bum-fuck-Idaho. And, it’s going to take four years, plus student teaching. Don’t age me yet.”

“I love you, sweet girl, but language.”

“I love you too. I’ll go do my chores while you make breakfast. Then we can open presents.”

“Right. Maybe this time you’ll beat Drew.”

Rolling my eyes, zipping my jacket, and putting on my gloves, I grabbed the shovel off the porch and started shoveling the sidewalk when a familiar voice called out my name as he made his way to me from across the street. I mentally fist pumped because I did beat him out here. Drew had been beating me to shoveling the past two years; today was Christmas, he didn’t need to be over here like he was every day.

I wanted to get it done before eight too. That’s when Cade and his dad were due home. His mom invited Dad and me over to open gifts and enjoy the day with them. I hadn’t seen my boyfriend since yesterday morning when he left to go on a ride-along with his dad. The past six months he’d been talking a lot about following in his footsteps and becoming a cop. His dark eyes lighting up whenever he talked about it. He was accepted into the academy a few weeks ago on his birthday. He went on and on about how lucky he was to receive the two gifts he wanted. His acceptance and the knife I gave him.

“Drew, you need to get in there and help your mom and Rachel. We both know the surprise your dad has for your mom, she deserves this vacation. Now go help her so she can enjoy herself for once. Besides, every time you do this, my dad finds some other chore for me to do. Like cleaning the toilets.”

“They have everything in the oven. Give me the shovel, Ivy. Gorgeous girl like you doesn’t need to be shoveling snow.”

I giggled, scooped up a pile of snow, took a step back to toss it onto the pile, and slipped on the ice, catching myself from face planting by falling on my hands and knees.

“Shit, you okay?”

“Yes.” I lie, taking hold of his hand and wince when I stand. My knees are going to be black and blue.

“Thank you.”

“Welcome, that right there is another thing you shouldn't be doing.”

“What, slipping on the ice?” I brush off the snow, wobble carefully to the steps to grab the bucket of salt.

“No, being on your hands and knees. You’re a princess, Ivy. Make sure my brother treats you like one.”

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll never drop to my knees for any man unless I want to.”

My body trembles with the urge to cry. It seems I always have that dream around the holiday season. It plagues me, drains me until I want to curl up and die. “You dropped to your knees against your will with the first bitch-slap to your face.” Stupid, stupid woman.

A round of laughter flies out of my mouth, followed by angry sobs I fight to hide from the pretty blonde who's been helping me the last week. The woman always looks at me like she wants to tell me everything is going to be okay. When in truth, nothing will ever be okay for me again.

Ellie. She’s late this morning. The sweet young little chatterbox is always here before I wake. Her tender smile is always plastered so wide on her face I felt the jealousy trickle down my spine before I’m completely awake.

The first couple days I yelled, screamed, and fought. Told her to go find Drew and leave me the hell alone. She insisted she wasn’t sleeping with him. It’d be right up his alley to pay someone to help me, then turn around and pay her to fuck him. I don’t think she is though; she seems too smart to get tangled up with a man like him.

The woman loves to talk. Always carrying on about how excited she is to be finishing nursing school, wanting to follow in her father’s footsteps by working in the medical field. I don’t care what she’s doing with her life; I’ve wanted to punch her in the face ever since she told me she was ordered to make sure I kept my IV in and to ask me how I was feeling down below.

I just stared at her until she got the hint I wasn’t telling her how raw and uncomfortable I was between my legs.

I’ve all but physically attacked her, and she still walks in here like it’s a privilege to take care of me. Promising me the medicine was to help me rest when I broke down in tears over it. Promising me what they were giving me was not addictive. I don’t believe a word she says, but what choice do I have. All I’ve been doing is sleeping away the day or staring at the view outside. All of this hidden secrecy shit is driving me absolutely mad.

Last night I faked a smile, chatted with her a bit. Tried pressing her for answers as to where I was and why Drew hadn’t been back to tell me what the hell was going on. She told me he was busy trying to find out who drugged me. I call bullshit. All of this is out of character for the man who has never given a shit before, nor has he slept next to me once since I’ve been here. Not that I really give a rat’s ass. It’s been a blessing not having him flip me over and slide his dick inside me to wake me up.

Today though, I’m volatile. I woke to the IV out of my arm, the restraints are gone and no one to tell me what the hell is going on.

The hot blood running through my veins has me seeing red in this room that smells of danger. Danger in a different way than I’ve felt before. Like it’s a safe place to hide with some kind of damage to my heart on the other side of the door. Like it wants to consume my every thought. Tear open my heart and stab me a million times in the chest. Rip me wide open and expose every malicious thing that has ever happened to me.

It has me in a bewildering state of turmoil. None of what I’m feeling makes sense.

Warm air circulates throughout the room, blending in with the angry heat rolling off my skin. There’s something about this place that makes me feel safe too. I don’t know why, but I do. I just wish I knew why I was here and what Drew has planned. And, why here happens to be someone else’s home? I know this because I’ve snooped. There are clothes in the dresser drawers and closet. All of them mostly black. All of them a man’s, and none of them are Drew’s size or smell.

They all smell like vanilla.

“What in the hell do you want from me, Drew? Why does everything smell like Cade and your dad?” An angry, pain-filled sob passes through my lips when not a sound comes from the other side of the door. “Bastard,” I mutter, pulling the long silk robe Ellie gave me tighter across my stomach and struggle to breathe as I climb out of bed. The pain is severe, but I refuse to take anything more for it. I want out of here, want answers, and I’m going to get them today one way or the other.

Pausing right before my feet hit the floor, I sit back on the bed and pick up the t-shirt I took out of the drawer and press it to my nose. The smell so intoxicating I slept in the thing. Part of me wanted to give Drew a dose of his own medicine in hopes he’d come in here and find it on me. He didn’t. He just left me in a room that smells like my dead boyfriend another night to crack a little more.

This is a sick and vulgar joke at the expense of me losing my goddamn mind.

Slowly making my way across the room, the mesmerizing view of the city below is a stark white of fluff that calls out to me. I’d love nothing more than to be outside walking the streets. Filling my lungs with the crisp air and my heart with jealousy as I watch families, couples, and friends smile and have a great time.

I miss Molly and Casey too. The worry she must be feeling about not being able to reach me. Knowing Drew, he’s strummed up another one of his lies.

Guilt flows, it trickles nice and steady. “What if he hurt them. What if he took Molly. Oh, God. I have to know they’re safe.”

Heart pounding like a swinging hammer against my ribs, I place my head and hands on the window. I can barely make out the cars below. “What building are we in, Drew?”

“The Diamond building. Top floor.” I spin around. My hand flying to my chest. Goosebumps zigzagging down my spine when I see a strange man standing in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck, and holding a pink bag in his hand.

“Who are you and where’s Ellie?” I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling underdressed in front of a man I don’t know. The pounding in my chest hits my ears. My brain rattles with unanswered questions and fear. Is he going to hurt me? Did Drew finally say fuck it and hire someone to kill me? One thing is for sure, the man is huge, arms as wide as my waist. Extremely tall. Dark blonde hair that hangs pasts his shoulders, a short, neatly trimmed beard and eyes the color of acorns.

He’s beautiful.

“The Diamond building? Isn’t that, this is owned by Roan Diamond, as in the mafia?” I think my heart just crashed to the ground below. I’m as good as dead if Drew has himself mixed up with the mob. They must be holding me hostage. I won’t tell them anything because I don’t know anything.

“The one and only. This building is one of the safest places for you to be, Ivy. I’m not here to hurt you. Name’s Chaz. I brought you some clothes. Well, technically Ellie bought them. There’s more being delivered later today. We sent Ellie home. It’s time you got out of this room, don’t you think? Get dressed.” He smiles. Dimples and all. A handsome man like him is one of those you never see coming until they grab you by the throat and squeeze the life out of you.

Just like Drew.

He tosses the bag on the bed, turns to leave while I’m standing here with thoughts of how they’ll torture me running through my head.

“We? Safest place? I don’t think so. Are you part of them, the mob? Did Drew do something like not pay a debt, or is he working for you guys now?”

God, what if he sold me.

I remember several years ago when Drew and Clay were working night and day on a case. Apparently, it was the men being accused a second arrest of sex-slave trafficking. Kidnapping women and selling them to the highest bidder. The first time the charges were dropped before the trial even began. These men were some bigwigs in the mob or a gang. I can’t really remember now. I remember very well when Drew came home to me watching the news. I flipped out about how dangerous it was, they could have killed him, and I wouldn’t have shed a tear, but I was worried sick about my dad if Drew screwed up. As usual, I didn’t have time to react before he slammed his fist in my stomach, knocking the air out of my lungs. I dropped to my knees. He fisted my hair, pulled out his dick, told me to open my mouth and mind my own business. That if he wanted me dead, I’d be dead and if he wants to sell me, he would. I never brought it up again, not even when they lost the case.

“You want answers, then get dressed. The door is unlocked, come out when you're done.”