April 4th, 2016
Warm water washed down our bodies and mingled with Ivy’s silent tears.
She’d been crying them for the entire twenty minutes we’d been under the spray, and I still didn’t think she’d actually felt them.
Silent and stark, she was a shell of herself, and I was doing my best to make sure the thin exterior didn’t break.
“Tilt your head back,” I instructed softly, working my fingers through the tresses of her thick hair to rid it of the sudsy shampoo.
Extending her neck and letting the weight of her grief sink deeper into her shoulders, she complied.
There was no sign of contentment, no fire of contempt, and no relief in the warmth of the water or my gentle touch. She’d shut out everyone and everything the moment Dr. Ines had broken the news of Camilla’s passing.
Police questioning, meeting Ivy’s distraught parents, traveling to LA—it was all a blur.
For me and Ivy, I suspected.
Ivy was lost in her grief, and I was lost in being there for her.
On a normal basis, we try to live our lives looking outward. What’s in front of us, what’s around us, what’s worthy of finding out more.
But now, my sole purpose was seeing to the well-being of the woman I loved. My view was focused inward. In the window. Inside the house. Away from the noise.
At the heart of Ivy.
Where she had a bottle of emotion just waiting to explode.
“Talk to me, baby,” I urged. “Get it out.”
Hard heart and blank eyes, she ignored my plea and my touch as I ran my hands down the slick skin of her shoulders and then back up to settle at her neck.
I tilted her chin with the pressure of my thumbs, bringing her defiant, distraught eyes to meet mine. She fought the contact, fully aware of intimacy’s ability to tap into well-hidden emotion. She didn’t want me breaking through the façade. She wanted it to hold strong—she wanted the distance to protect her.
I’d used the technique for years of my life, torturing myself and those around me, and I recognized the look of it in her.
I was hesitant to resist anything she felt she needed—but I knew better.
Self-contained grief only multiplied. It attacked its only available opponent and destroyed the person appropriately. I didn’t want to watch her destroy who she was. Lively, fiery, and full of life. She had so much to offer, and I couldn’t imagine her turning into a female version of what I’d been for so many years.
“Ivy,” I called. “Look at me.”
Deprived of her solitude, she lashed out, whipping my skin with the lash of her tongue. “Leave me alone.”
“No,” I refused. “I’d do just about anything you asked. But I won’t do that.”
“Get out!” she screamed, high-pitched and desperate, splashing the water against the thick marble tile as she slashed out an arm.
I wrapped my arms tightly around her body, trapping her arm beneath them, and pulled her close. “No,” I repeated. “Not now, not ever. You and me against everything else. You and me, no matter the obstacle, we face it together.”
The words were like a hammer to the wall she’d built. Brick by brick, she crumbled into my arms and gave herself over to the emotion.
“I just… How do I do it, Levi? How am I supposed to say goodbye?”
Squeezing my arms tighter, I put my lips to her hair and breathed in her pain. If I could take it from her and put it inside of myself, I would.
My voice shook as I tried to find the words to give advice I hadn’t followed myself. I had been a one-man shitshow until Ivy had come along. It felt ironic to be trying to put the pieces of her back together when the glue was still drying on myself.
“However you can. For me, I couldn’t let go. I couldn’t move past anything, and I think you know that better than anyone.”
A sob tore from her throat as she pressed her face farther into my throat.
“And for as messed up as I was before you, I don’t think I was entirely wrong.” God, how could I say this in a way that made sense?
“I don’t think you say goodbye. I think you try to understand that, physically, she’s gone. But her spirit, the parts of her you love, they never will be. She’ll guide you. She’ll teach you. Just like you found with Grace, someone else will find a lesson in Camilla and learn from her.”
“I just don’t know how to handle today. All those people…”
Today, she’d bury her sister.
Today, she’d say goodbye.
Today wasn’t a day at all. It was a real-life version of hell.
In fact, I’d been dreading this day since I’d attended Dane Marx’s funeral in Cold. That one had been hard. He had been a good guy. Full of life. Honest. Kind. And he hadn’t deserved his fate. He hadn’t deserved to be snuffed out of this world at the hands of an unhinged psychopath.
And now, he’d left behind a distraught mother and father and sister trying to figure out how to pick up the pieces.
Fuck, what a mess. What a fucking mess.
They say the majority of police officers never have to shoot their guns during their careers. Much less have to kill anyone.
Yet I’d somehow managed to have blood on my hands twice.
Both of my victims deserved their fate, that much I knew.
But their victims? They were innocent. They were tragically removed from this life for no other reason but evil, deranged motivations.
Visions of Dane and Camilla threatened to flash behind my eyes, but I pushed them away. I refused to go there. I refused to wallow in the terrifying memories.
Ivy needed my strength.
I pulled her face from my chest and moved her head out from under the water. I wanted her to hear me, to see me—to know I meant the words with every fiber of my being.
“You do whatever you need. Anything, Ivy. And you do it knowing I’ll be there, right next to you, every single step of the way.”