The statement sends panic through me. “She doesn’t mean shit to me. The only weakness I have is boredom since I don’t have any real competition, even when they have Daddy in their corner.” I take a few steps closer until we’re face-to-face. “Can you say the same,Mickey?”
His posture changes, and I know I hit the nerve. He trudges forward, his shoulder hitting mine. “When I win, the first thing you’ll do is watch me celebrate.” His smile grows as hecontinues, “She did say I’m the fun one after all. I bet she’s a screamer. Only one way to find out. And you will get to watch me give Ivy the fucking she desires.”
The image of him over her plays out in my mind a little too real and easily. He doesn’t want her. He just wants to use her against me. I know it. But it doesn’t stop me from swinging. My fist comes up, knocking into his jaw as he staggers back.
To my surprise, he doesn’t retaliate. I’d thought he was looking for a fight, but he was looking for confirmation of what he already knew and what I don’t want to admit. Although I just did when I lost control.
Fuck.
She’s more than an obsession, she’s everything. And the one who will do anything to defeat me knows it. There’s no hiding now.
“If you touch her, I’ll kill you.”
His mouth stretches into a smile as he swipes the blood from his chin. “I won’t have to touch her. She’s going to come to me, and I won’t have to lift a finger. Who would’ve thought a pussy would’ve been the great Luca Montclair’s undoing.”
It’s too late. I’ve lost my temper, so I don’t restrain the urge to grab him. When I shove his back against the locker, he just laughs again. “You should know better than anyone. Which is why I made sure your bitch is on your team.”
The cockiness fades enough to confirm that I also have some intel on what—or more like who—is his fixation. He might not be gone to the level I am. But I saw his face when she was dangling near the ledge of the roller coaster. He looked like he was ready to jump off if it meant saving her. And he’s as selfish of a bastard as me, so I know there’s something there. Maybe I can see that now because I finally feel it too.
“Weaknesses only cause damage if they’re exploited. So, keep in mind: everything you do tomine, I’ll be sure to return tenfold toyours. And we’ll see who comes out on top.”
Micah shakes his head as he walks away. “Looks like Mercy will be interesting this year.”
29
IVY
As soon as I walk in the house, I’m met with Anthony’s bewilderment. “I wasn’t expecting you home until later, Ms. Walker.”
Home.Doesn’t sound right. “I’ll be home all week now.”
“Your father said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow and that you and Zachary should have dinner without him.”
“So, like every other night,” I remark, then realize it’s not the messenger’s fault. “But thanks for letting me know.”
I go straight upstairs. Once I look in the bathroom mirror, I figure out that Anthony’s shock was probably more about the food in my hair than my early arrival.
Even after an extensive shower, it feels like there’s still something in my hair. My nerves are on edge just thinking about it—or more likehim.
Normally, I’d go for a swim when I’m anxious. Wearing myself out was always the solution. As I place my hand on my shoulder and rotate it around, I realize most of the stiffness has subsided. I could definitely get in a decent workout. But as fast as the thought enters my mind, I shove it out and plop onto my bed.
Maybe the fact that Luca has a view of the pool keeps me from giving it a try. But the truth is, I still don’t see the point or have any desire to dive back in.
Lifting my arm up, I examine the scar on my wrist. It’s barely scabbed over since I was scratching it in Guidry’s office.
Resting my arm on my stomach, I scratch until it bleeds again. I don’t how long it is before I fall asleep, but as soon as I do, the usual nightmares appear like clockwork.
A loud bang and yelling jars me completely out of my slumber as I sit upright, finding Zachary standing in my bedroom. “What the hell is your problem, Ivy? Are you so desperate to maintain the poor-girl-with-the-dead-mom story that you’re starting fights at school?”
I’m trying to figure out why he’s so angry about a food fight as he continues, “Do you know what I spent last period doing? Speaking with the principal because she wanted to make sure everything is okay at home since my sister seems to be acting out and having a hard time adjusting to her new school. So now, she wants me to meet with the counselor every week.”
“It might not be a bad idea to talk to someone.”
He shouts, “I don’t want to. Mom is dead. Life goes on.”
“It’s that simple, right? She’s just gone.”
“Yes. Because of you. So, stop fucking up and begging people to feel sorry for you. I don’t want to be the poor, pitiful kid with the dead mom. This was my chance to start over. If you want to be that person, go back to Willowbrook where you belong.”
