Steve’s skin... it was so bad. Like crispy pork. Nose completely black.
The laptop... the laptop... find Steve’s laptop...
Ivy did her best to drag Steve carefully down the stairs without hurting him too badly. But when she started coughing and horking up thick strings of phlegm, she gave up. Just pulled.
Somehow managed to get him onto the front lawn—no idea how.
She put her hands on her knees, tried to clear the tears from her eyes. Tried to stop coughing.
Find Steve’s laptop... save the work...
Steve was still alive. Barely. Might not make it.
Gene’s laptop wasn’t here. Ivy would bet her life that Steve’s wasn’t either. Steve was the only one who knew where it was.
If he stayed alive... he wouldn’t tell her. Why would he? The man had already killed Gene—her father had warned her about him, about what he might do—and Gene’s head had been bleeding. Steve would probably kill Ivy too, if he thought she had her father’s laptop.
Ivy’s mind was swimming. Inhaling all that smoke had cut the oxygen to her brain.
If Steve wakes up... if Steve wakes up...
He was likely to be as confused as she was now. And if she was the first person he saw, she might be able to take advantage of this.
An insane idea. But that’s how Ivy felt right now—insane. One minute, her father had been yelling at her over the phone. The next, she found him dead.
Ivy gagged and vomited. This stripped her of more oxygen. Didn’t make the idea that had popped into her head go away, though. Did the opposite.
Made it real.
But how would she be by Steve’s side if he woke up? The police would investigate, keep her away from the man who killed her father.
Unless...
There was no denying the resemblance between Steve and Gene—both tall and thin. Steve’s hair had gone salt-and-pepper; Gene’s was pure salt. But now, neither had any.
The laptop... Steve’s laptop... save the work... promise me...
Ivy wasn’t thinking straight.
She ran back inside. Found her dad. Grabbed his left hand. Touched his gold wedding band. Cried out. It melted the skin on her fingers. Grabbed it again, took some of Gene’s flesh with it. Some of her own, too. Hurried out. Placed it on Steve’s finger, weeping the entire time.
Ivy Reeves called 911 twenty-seven minutes after her father had interrupted her dinner. After she reported the fire, she called Abby.
“Hey, bitch? What’s up?”
“I need you to listen to me—there’s something I need you to do. You can’t ask questions, but I promise to fill you in later. It has to be quick. Like,nowquick.”
“Everything alright?”
“No, definitely not.”
And Ivy Reeves doubted things would ever be ‘alright’ ever again.?
?Chapter 82
“Right before Icame to you on the bluff, Tristan was saying something... he was saying, ‘Please, my dad... my dad,’ something like that?”
Ivy’s hand was shaking when she tried to pick up her beer. Decided it wasn’t worth the risk of soaking the dress that Abby had loaned her and opted to leave it where it was.
