coming home Wednesday night."
Well, wasn't that just motivational?
The meeting was over pretty much after that, members filing out, some somber while others were gearing up for the fight. I turned to Val as I tucked a stray curl back behind my ear. "Got plans for tonight? I can't promise you'll get laid though," I joked.
"I . . . I think I'm going to go see my parents," Val said quietly, and I squelched a burst of disappointment. She had every right to want to spend time with her family. "Maybe we can get together later."
I nodded even though I knew not to count on that. Smiling, I hugged her carefully. Part of me expected her to make some sort of joke about getting the night off in spite of the seriousness, because that was Val, but she didn't. When she slipped through the crowd, heading for the door, I wasn't the only one watching her. David's keen gaze followed her out. Dylan was behind her, and he watched until they both disappeared. Then he looked at me.
I wiggled my fingers at him.
David's frown turned severe.
It was time for me to make an exit. I glanced around but didn't see Ren. I guessed he'd already left. Disappointment bounced around inside me again, and I had no ownership to that. Maybe he was going out to find someone to spend the night with, and boy oh boy, I so did not like the thought of that. Jealously wasn't a green-eyed monster but a fire breathing dragon when my mind produced an image of Ren this morning, his muscled thighs blocking me in, his hips level with my mouth. Thinking about another girl made me want to cut someone.
I needed help.
Maybe if I survived Wednesday, I could check out some therapy. Or at least acupuncture or something.
The clouds had darkened when I stepped out of the building, and I turned to my right, immediately coming face to face with Ren.
I stumbled back a step. Heat rushed my face and then quickly dropped when my eyes locked with his. Standing in front of Ren was about seven different kinds of awkward.
"I was waiting for you," he said. "Though I'm sure that's obvious."
At a complete loss for words, all I could do was stare up at him. The green-eyed fire-breathing dragon was demanding that I ask if he planned on listening to David's advice, but luckily, common sense told the dragon to shut the hell up.
"We need to talk." Ren's eyes never left my face.
I found my voice. "No. We don't. We don't have to do anything." I forced myself to turn away then, because I feared if I did stay, if I did talk to him, I wouldn't be able to distance myself. I wouldn't walk away and I'd . . .
I'd keep falling underwater when it came to him.
"You're a coward."
I froze as those three words washed over me, then I whipped around, facing him as the first drop of rain smacked off the sidewalk. "Excuse me?"
Ren lifted his chin. "You heard me right. I hate saying it, but it's true."
Anger rose in me like thick smoke. Though I shouldn't be surprised that he was finally going to confront me after this morning. He had a right to say whatever he felt was necessary, but that didn't mean I had to stand there and listen to it. "Whatever, dude. Think what you want to think. I'm going home."
"For someone who is so strong and so brave, I never would've thought you'd be such a coward when it really counts," he continued. "I get that you've been hurt before. Guess what? All of us have lost someone close to us, but—"
"You have no idea what you're talking about," I snapped, raising my hand and pointing at him. "You know nothing about what I've lost."
"Then tell me, Ivy. Make me understand."
My mouth opened, but there were no words, just silence and a deep cutting shame when I thought about the night I lost everything. How could I tell him? How could I tell anyone? Pivoting around, I started walking.
"That's right," Ren called out. "Just walk away."
And that's what I did.
~
The distant rumble of thunder matched my mood as I roamed aimlessly through my apartment Tuesday night. The sun had long since disappeared, and I'd seen on the TV that severe storms would be moving through the area the next two days. Perfect.
I stared out the French doors leading to the balcony, watching the rain pound the wooden boards as I counted the seconds between the flash of light and answering thunder. Twenty seconds. When I was younger, Adrian taught me to count the seconds between the strike of lightning and the boom of the thunder to tell how many miles away the storm was. Probably wasn't the most correct method of judging where a storm was located, but to this day it was an old habit.
But one thing Adrian hadn't taught me was what to do with those seconds.
I never knew what to do with those seconds.
Oddly, as I rested my forehead against the cool glass, I wasn't afraid for myself. The fear churning through me, despite the fact there was a good chance I wouldn't survive tomorrow night, had nothing to do with my own fate. We lived with death and we knew it waited for each and every one of us. We were taught not to fear the inevitable, but again, what we were never taught was how to live on when those around us left. The fear I tasted in the back of my throat was for all those who might not survive tomorrow night.
For Val, and even David and Miles, and Ren.
I feared for them, but not myself. And I feared what would happen if we weren't successful tomorrow night. Knots tightened in my stomach at the mere thought of the gate opening. Mankind had no idea how frail their position of power was, and once the knights came through, their position would be even more precarious. If they managed to find the halfling and knock boots, producing a baby, then those doors would never close. Nothing would stop the fae from taking humans back to their world again or from coming into ours in far greater masses.
Over the hum of the TV, I heard Tink's bedroom door close, and I turned around. He'd been in the kitchen, making himself a hot pocket or something. Living with him right now was what I imagined a couple faced when going through a divorce. Awkward as hell.
My gaze fell to where my phone sat on the wooden chest. Under the fear was a sour taste of regret. If I were to meet my end tomorrow night, would I do so without remorse? No. Regret filled me, and God, I didn't want to go out that way. I'd made major mistakes in my life and people paid the price in blood, and that was something I could truly never undo, but everything with Ren felt like I was just stacking on the regret, and the weight was suffocating me.
I slowly walked over to the chest, my bare feet padding across the wood floors. My heart jumped as I reached for the phone, coming up short. If I called him, what would I say? What would I do? Admit that I was a coward, because in a way I was. So afraid of allowing anyone to get that close that I had shut him out. He was right. I'd been slamming the door in people's faces the entire time, and Jo Ann and Val were the only ones to squeak through.
Next to my phone was one of my textbooks. Statistics. Man, I hated that class. As I stared at the book, a sort of epiphany slammed into me with the force of an ice cream truck being chased by overheated kids in the dead of summer.
I wanted more from life than my duty to the Order. After all, that was why I was taking a class I hated to earn a degree that I hoped I'd be able to use while I worked for the Order.
I wanted more.
But I wasn't allowing myself to have more—not really. Not the intangible things that counted most, like friendship with no walls, and real human contact. Lust. Love.
A clap of thunder boomed, causing me to jump. I didn't need to count anything to know that the storm was closer. Sitting down on the edge of the couch, I picked up the remote and flipped the TV off. I looked at the phone again, my lips pressed together.
Could I let go of the fear of losing Ren so I could at least experience him?
I wasn't sure or if it was an option at this point. I'd walked away from him twice already. Tucking my hair back behind my ears, I leaned against the cushions and sighed. I sucked. I sucked huge—
A knock on the door jarred me.
I sat up as my heart lodged itself in my throat. I waited there for a moment, and then the knock came again. Jumping to my feet, I hurried over to the door and stretched up, peering through the peephole.
"Oh my God," I whispered.
Although it was dark, I could make out Ren's profile. He was standing sideways, his head tipped back, and I thought maybe his eyes were closed. Ren was here—he was actually here, and I couldn't believe it.
And I was just standing there, my palms pressed flat against the door, my mouth hanging open, looking like a complete goober.
I glanced down the hall to make sure the door to Tink's room was closed. As I opened the door, I hoped Tink stayed in there.
Ren turned, lowering his chin and dropping his hands from his hips. He was drenched from the rain, the shirt clinging to his body, his hair a wet mess. Our eyes collided and held. Lightning cut through the sky behind him, casting his features in an eerie glow before it fizzled out.
He placed his hands on the doorframe and leaned in as his chest rose with a broad inhale. "If you tell me to leave, I'll turn and walk away. I swear that, Ivy, but I had to try one more time. I'm not going to possibly go to my grave without trying. Please. Don't let me go."
Shaken by how closely his words matched my own thoughts, I didn't move for what felt like forever, and then I did. As if I were in a dream, I stepped aside, allowing him in.
Acute shock splashed across his striking features. He must've thought I'd slam the door in his face. After all, that was what I did, and I was good at it. It was probably the one thing I was best at doing.
I was rather tired of excelling at it.
Ren walked in, and I closed the door behind him with trembling hands. I didn't look at him, but he was standing close enough that I shivered, almost able to feel him. So many thoughts raced through me.
Neither of us spoke for several moments, and then I exhaled a shaky breath. What I said, it came from the darkest part of me. Words I'd never spoken to anyone before, and never thought that I would.
"I'm the reason why Shaun was killed," I said, barely above a whisper. "I got him killed and I got my adoptive parents killed. Their deaths were my fault."
He inhaled sharply. "Ivy, I don't think—"
"You don't understand." My voice was flat and I closed my eyes. "It really was my fault. I did something so stupid, so fucking stupid."
There was a moment, and then he said, "I would like to try to understand then."
I almost laughed, but then I figured if I did, it would sound slightly crazed. If I told Ren how incredibly reckless I'd been, he probably would walk right back out this door. I wouldn't blame him. One could never go past the acceptable level of stupidity, and I'd blown right on by that unspoken line.
Sometimes stupidity killed.
Like the people who thought one more drink didn't mean they couldn't drive. Or the ones who thought sending one quick text while driving wouldn't end with them smacking into someone head on. All bad, stupid decisions.
Mine was pretty epic, all things considered.
"I was two weeks shy of turning eighteen, and I'd already taken the mark of the Order. I know that's not common, but Holly had talked to the sect. Shaun was getting his done and I . . . I wanted mine. They agreed. I don't know what about taking the mark made us feel like we could actually begin hunting. I mean, we'd been training since forever, but none of that mattered. We were young and dumb, I guess."
Opening my eyes, I edged past Ren and walked to the French doors. "Three nights before my birthday, I was supposed to meet Shaun at this restaurant in the city, and I'd dressed up for it. You know, being cute, and instead of wearing the clover necklace, I put on this silver chain thing because it matched the dress." I laughed then, and it sounded harsh. "I left the house without a clover. Seriously. Darwinism at its finest. I guess I thought I wouldn't run across any fae, and maybe I wouldn't have if Shaun and I hadn't been hunting before we were supposed to. We didn't know that once we hunted—"
"You can easily become the hunted," he finished quietly for me.
I nodded as I traced a raindrop down the glass with my finger. Most fae stayed away from the Order, wouldn't dare track one home. I assumed the ancients would probably be different, but Shaun and I had looked as young as we were. One glance at us, and the fae knew we were untrained. "We just didn't think about the fact that if we were engaging fae, we could be seen by other fae, you know? How incredibly stupid was that? Anyway, I left the house and I was almost to the train station. I was going to catch a way into the city through the metro, and I saw a fae. She must've recognized me, because all I remember is her making a beeline for me at the station, right in public, and before I could do anything—which was nothing, because I didn't even have a stake with me . . . I'm sure you can guess what happened next."
Ren didn't answer for a moment. "The fae compelled you?"
"Yeah," I whispered, leaning back against the door. I finally looked at him, and his expression cut through me like a blade. Sorrow dampened his eyes to a mossy green, his lips pinched with bleakness. "You know, I guess it's why I can relate to Merle. She made a dumb choice, went out unprotected. I don't know what happened to her. No one really talks about the details, and I think in a way I was lucky. Not those around me, but I was."
"Ivy," he said softly.
"I don't really remember much after her telling me to take her to my house, and all I do remember was that I was back home, in my living room. I remember seeing Adrian lying on the floor . . ."
Pushing away from the wall, I walked to the back of the couch. A ball formed in my throat. "He was dead, stabbed with his own stake, and for a second I thought I'd done it, but there was no blood on me. His blood was on the fae, and Holly was in the kitchen. So much was being broken." I frowned as the noises of the night resurfaced. Wood splintering. China shattering. The screaming. "I tried to help. The fae—she practically put me through a wall, and Holly . . . she dropped her guard. She came for me, and the fae sneaked up behind her. Snapped her neck."
I didn't realize I was crying until I felt the dampness on my cheeks. I swiped at the tears angrily as I backed away. "Then Shaun showed up, looking for me, and the things she did to him. She didn't outright kill him. No. She toyed with him. Didn't even feed on him or Holly or Adrian. But after she was done with Shaun, she did feed on me."
With measured steps, Ren walked around the couch, approaching. "Honey . . ."
I kept backing away. "Have you ever been fed on?"
He shook his head.
"It hurts at first. Like your insides are being pulled out, and then it stops, and it really doesn't hurt anymore. She probably would've drained me if one of Adrian's friends hadn't shown up—another Order member. They never figured out how the fae got in the house or why it was there. Like we all know, it was unheard of for them to come after Order members, and I never told them the truth. I was so ashamed, and I knew if I did, they would've kicked me out. So instead of them rightfully scorning me, they all felt sorry for me." Humiliation stung my skin. "I think . . . I think Shaun and I killed her partner. She kept mentioning his name. Nairn. I don't know. I guess that part doesn't matter." I paused, sliding my hands over my cheeks as I stared at the floor. "I don't even know why I'm telling you any of this. It's not a justification for how I behaved toward you this morning or earlier. It's not an excuse and I don't expect you—"
"I get it. I know you're not making excuses, but I get it." Ren continued toward me. "God, Ivy . . ."
"I don't want your pity or for you to tell me it wasn't my fault. That's not why I told you." My back hit the wall behind me and the pain of that throbbed inside me. "So don't lie to me."
"Okay. I won't lie to you." When I started to sidestep him, he caught my hands and held them between us. "You made a shit choice when you were seventeen years old. God knows I made some shit choices when I was that age."
"It's not the same."
"It's not? My best friend was killed and I did next to nothing to stop it. No," he interrupted when I started to disagree. "You can't tell me my situation is different, and I have no reason to feel guilt over what happened to my friend if you can't forgive yourself. Maybe neither of us can truly forgive ourselves. Sometimes we do things or we enable things to happen that we can never go back and change. Maybe our shit choices aren't truly forgivable, and the only thing we can do is learn from them and not make them again."
Breathing became hard as the knot in my throat expanded. "I . . . I've lost everyone I loved." My voice broke, and his stark expression wavered. "I've lost everyone."
"Do you really ever lose anyone, Ivy? They may be gone, but they still exist." My lips trembled as I struggled to keep myself under control. He brought my hands to his chest, above his heart. "They still live here. They always will."
I could feel the hold on my control snapping, one fragile strain at a time. I started to pull away, but he let go of my hands and clasped my upper arms. "Ren . . ."
"I'm still here." He dipped his head, his eyes meeting mine. "You haven't lost me."
"But what if—"
"Sweetness, you can't hold your life back on a bunch of what ifs. Who the hell knows what could happen? Either one of us could