This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental

Blake copyright @ 2015 by Laura Day. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

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MASON

Chapter One

Blake Lambert relaxed into his leather couch and watched the woman in front of him. She smiled at him over her glass of bourbon and flipped her long auburn hair over her shoulder.

“How long are you in town for?” he asked. She was walking around his apartment picking up photos and trophies and smiling at them before putting them back down. He wasn’t sure if she was actually reading what was on the trophies, or if she was just pretending to be interested in him.

“Three days,” she responded with her back to him. “We have a show in Portland on Saturday.” Michelle was in a hardcore punk band. Blake had gone to one of her shows last years, but he hadn’t been that interested. The music was basically Michelle screaming into the microphone while a mosh pit formed at her feet. Some people liked it, but Blake wasn’t one of them.

He might not have liked her music, but he certainly enjoyed her company. She was beautiful, tall and thin and covered in tattoos. Michelle didn’t want to get married. She didn’t want to be exclusive. She wanted to come to town, party, fuck, and leave. It was their arrangement and it worked very well for Blake.

He finished his bourbon and poured himself another, looking past Michelle to the Seattle skyline visible through the large windows behind her. It was a spring night and, in the distance, he could see dark clouds heavy with rain looming on the horizon.

“You seem a little distracted,” Michelle chided as she stood in his line of vision.

“Yeah,” Blake answered shaking his head. Don’t think about Ivy, he ordered himself. Think about this beautiful girl in front of you.

As if on cue Michelle reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head revealing the lacy bra she was wearing underneath. Tattoos lined her chest, and stomach and arms. There were stars and tornados and foreign languages scattered over her lithe body.

Ivy McCormick doesn’t even have a single tattoo, he thought.

Michelle was moving towards him a smile playing across her face. “Stop being distracted,” she said. She leaned over him on the couch and kissed him, slipping her tongue between his lips. “Think about me and you and right now and nothing else,” she whispered into his ear. She began to kiss his neck before biting his earlobe.

Blake wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her towards him. She set her knees on either side of his legs, straddling him as she sat lightly on top of him. She took his face in his hands and brought him close to her, kissing him deeply. Blake reached down and grabbed her ass roughly, pulling her flush against his body. His hands ran up and down her warm back and he reached for her bra, quickly unsnapping it and tossing it to the floor.

His shifted in his seat, making more room for his growing erection as his body reacted to Michelle’s touch. Her fingers were entwined in his hair as she pulled him close, kissing him desperately. Blake ran his fingers up her spine feeling each ridge of her backbone with his calloused palm. He grabbed her hair and tilted her head back to give him access to her breasts. He leaned forward and took one in his mouth, sucking and biting the nipple as Michelle arched her back and whispered his name.

Her fingers found the hem of his shirt and she pulled it up and over his head. Her hands reached for his strong pectoral muscles and she ran her fingers down his chest until the settled on his belt. She was grinding her body against his, and it was responding. He leaned forward and began to kiss her neck making her whimper and cry out. His tongue licked her soft tattooed shoulder and he kissed the sensitive nape of her neck, making her squirm above him.

He dug his hands into her hips. He wanted her. Without warning he picked Michelle up and off of him. He shifted her onto the couch and she lay down on her back. She licked her lips as she looked up at him and that was all Blake needed. He quickly unbuttoned her jeans and slid them over her hips revealing the black thong she was wearing underneath.

He slipped out of his own jeans and boxers and left them in a pile on the floor. He knelt between Michelle’s open legs, and ran his hands over her smooth thighs. He gripped her tightly before massaging her legs as he leaned down.  He kissed her, letting go of her legs, and ran his hand through her hair and down her neck.

He kissed her, moving down her body, kissing each of her breasts and then the soft skin between them. He kissed his way down her stomach, flashing past her tattoos as he went. Finally, he settled between her legs and Michelle sighed and closed her eyes.

He reached up and massaged her breast as he slid his tongue inside of her. A shudder rocked through her and Blake pulled her thighs closer to him, holding onto her tightly. She cried out his name as his tongue slid over her clit. He went slowly and softly until Michelle’s hands were wrapped up in his hair and she was begging him for more.

“Yes, Blake. Yes!” she cried, arching her hips against his tongue. Her stroked her harder and felt her body respond as she screamed out the word yes and then he felt her tense and writhe underneath him as she came. He kissed the inside of her left thigh as she lay below him, her eyes closed as she gasped for breath.

He kissed her neck and roused her from her post-orgasm state. Michelle leaned up towards him and ran her hands down his back and over his ass. Her hands came around to his front and she grazed his hard cock with her fingertips. She kissed him as her hand gently wrapped around him and she began to stroke him.

“Yes,” Blake whispered. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what he really wanted, what he needed. He sat back on his heels and pulled Michelle up. He guided her with his hands and turned her over until she was on her hands and knees. He reached into the small table next to his couch and pulled out a condom, slipping it over himself before placing his hand on the small of Michelle’s back.

He slipped easily into her. He let himself sink all the way as he took her hips and pulled her closer. His mind cleared as he thrust into her. She felt amazing around him and he groaned her name. He listened for Michelle’s, but she wasn’t crying out his name, so he reached around and slipped his finger into her wet center.

She grabbed his arm and whispered yes as they moved together. She pushed back against him and he thrust far into her and then slid himself all the way out. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold back. He leaned down and kissed Michelle’s back as she began to moan loudly. His fingers were spinning inside of her and she was pushing her body closer to them.

“Oh, Blake. Yes.”

The sound of her voice was almost too much. He held himself back until he felt her body tense and then she convulsed around him and it was too much. Blake came as he pulled Michelle against him until he was spent.

“I missed that,” Michelle said as she sat back and rested her head against Blake’s shoulder. “This really makes the trip to Seattle worth it. Ugh, all this rain. I can’t stand it.”

“I like Seattle,” Blake said. A heavy tiredness was setting in. He and Michelle never really talked. That was part of their arrangement. No strings, no promises, just a good time had by all. It was the only kind of relationship he bothered with. Blake Lambert didn’t do girlfriends. He wasn’t going to hold hands or go to brunch on Sunday. He lived his life his own way. He made his own schedule, did what he wanted. Why would he ever want to change that?

He stood up and pulled on his jeans, but left his shirt on the floor. Michelle began to dress, as well, slipping back into her ripped up jeans and tattered t-shirt.

“I needed that,” he said as he looked out onto his view of the city. He lived in a small penthouse apartment with huge south facing windows. It was far from his gym and the training facility, but Blake liked it. He liked waking up every morning and having a view like this. It made all his hard work seem worth it.

“Having a hard week?” Michelle asked as she grabbed a pack of cigarettes and headed towards his balcony.

Blake walked with her and they stood out in the misty night air. “I’m going home to visit my mom and meet her new boyfriend,” he said, feeling ridiculous

“Poor little mamma’s boy,” Michelle smirked as she cupped her hand over her cigarette and clicked her lighter. The smell of smoke wafted around them. She offered him her pack, but, as always, Blake said no. Smoking cigarettes didn’t really mesh with his day job.

“It’s not that. I’m glad my mom’s dating someone. She’s been bothering me a lot less. The problem is, her new boyfriend has a daughter and I used to date that daughter

“OMG, if your parents get married, you will have dated your stepsister.”

“I know,” Blake said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Plus we didn’t exactly end things great. We haven’t spoken since high school. It’s gonna be a rough weekend.”

“Yeah well, there are starving children out there. You don’t have it so bad.”

“Ah, Michelle. Always so caring and compassionate,” Blake smiled over at her as she looked at him from behind the red glow of her cigarette.

“Wanna knock out one more before you go home and try not to bang your future stepsister?” Michelle asked tossing her cigarette over the balcony.

“Yes,” Blake said.

Michelle turned and walked inside, but Blake stood on the balcony for another moment. Ivy McCormick, Blake had spent too long thinking about that girl. She was etched in his brain as the one who got away, the perfect girl for him. It had taken a while, but the image of her had finally managed to fade from his mind. But now she was back; he was going to see her and he couldn’t stop imagining what she might look like now.

Chapter Two

“Scrambled eggs and bacon, just the way you like it, kiddo.”

Jeez, Dad, kiddo. I’m twenty-five years old and he was still calling me kiddo. But his cooking had always been delicious, which made the nicknames worth it. She reached for her fork and began to pile the bacon and eggs together and she took a huge mouthful and began to chew. And then Blake walked in.

“Morning,” he said, walking over to the coffee table to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Ivy closed her eyes as she tried to swallow the huge bite she had taken. Of course Blake had walked in at the worst possible moment.

“Good morning, dear,” Blake’s mother, Ellen, said as Blake joined them at the table.

Ivy finally managed to swallow her food, but then found she couldn’t talk. Blake was wearing a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants and a tight white tank top that revealed his well-muscled shoulders.

“Blake,” Ivy finally managed to spit out as she gave him a nod. She still couldn't quite bring herself to look him in the eye.

“Good morning, Sis,” Blake said raising his eyebrows at her as he took a long sip of his coffee.

“Blake, you interested in some breakfast?” her father, Jonas, asked.

“Love some, thanks,” Blake called over.

It was too much. It was all just too weird. Blake was sitting across the breakfast table from her. Blake, the guy she had lost her virginity to, the first and only guy she had ever loved was going to be her stepbrother. Was this going to be her life? Holidays and vacations spent making awkward small talk with her ex? And what would happen if he were to actually bring a girl home with him? Ivy would have to sit and pretend that she was happy and that it didn’t bother her at all. Not that it would bother her. She and Blake had broken up years ago and she had moved on. But the shock of seeing him and knowing she would have to continue to see him was more than she was ready for.

“Everything all right, Ivy?” Ellen asked as she lowered the newspaper and looked over.

“I’m fine,” she said taking another bite of her eggs to avoid having to say another word.

“I know this is all a little strange. And we hate making this hard for you kids,” Jonas said, and then he reached across the table and took Ellen’s hand. They looked at each other and Ivy saw the smile that played across her father’s face. “But Ellen and I are just so crazy about each other. We just click so well, like two puzzle pieces that somebody finally pushed together.”

“It’s fine, Dad,” Ivy said, cutting in before her father could find any more ways to express his love for Ellen. “It’s not weird at all.”

“I’m totally fine with it,” Blake said with a mouthful of eggs. “You two crazy kids do you.”

Ellen put her hands to her chest as tears sprung to her eyes. “You are just the two most wonderful kids anyone could ever have.”

“We sure did raise them right,” Jonas said.

Ivy choked on her coffee and then smiled as she tried to cough discreetly.

Across the table, Blake was smirking at her and shaking his head. “You two are great parents,” Blake agreed staring at Ivy as she tried to stop herself from shaking her head.

She could not let Blake get to her. Her father loved Ellen and Ivy wasn’t going to take that away from him. Jonas had worked so hard his entire life to provide for Ivy and put her through school and this was how she could pay him back, by accepting his new love. She wanted him and Ellen to stay together and that meant she needed to stay away from Blake. She could do that, probably.

“We appreciate you being so mature,” Ellen said and Ivy saw the knowing look she gave Blake. He gave his mom a dutiful nod and then went back to shoveling his breakfast in his mouth. “What are your plans while you’re back in town, Ivy?”

“Oh, I’ll probably just meet up with a few friends, do some shopping.”

“What about you, Blake?” Jonas asked.

“Training. I’ve got a big fight coming up. My old gym is just around the corner and they’re going to let come back in and practice while I’m here.”

“You’re still fighting?” Ivy asked. She couldn’t believe it; after all this time he was still engaged in his little after school activity.

“MMA,” Blake answered. He met her gaze and the memory of their breakup flashed before his eyes: Ivy crying and yelling and Blake shrugging his shoulders. He had broken her heart and he didn’t even care. Not then, anyway.

“Blake is very good. He’s ranked nationally in his weight class,” Ellen said. But her voice was high-pitched and she didn’t look pleased.

“Mom doesn’t love the fighting,” Blake said.

“No, I gave up that battle a few years ago. If this is what Blake wants to do, if this makes him happy and he can support himself, then I’m okay with it.” The speech seemed to take a lot out of her and Ivy was glad to hear she wasn’t the only one who hated that Blake was a fighter.

Blake looked over to her and it was almost as if he were hoping that Ivy had changed her mind, as well. But Ivy was not so easily swayed. Blake had been her high school sweetheart. They dated for their entire senior year. They went to dances and parties and games, but they never went to prom. Going to her senior year prom was the only thing Ivy really wanted to do. She knew it was silly and old-fashioned, but she had wanted it. She wanted to feel like royalty for one night. She wanted to have her dad take her picture as she stood in front of her limo. And Blake promised her that. He got a tux and the limo and he properly asked her and everything. And then two days before prom there had been a fight. It was between him and another kid who went to a different boxing gym. They had been pushing each other’s buttons all year. It came to a head two days before prom where they arranged a fight in the schoolyard at four o’clock.

Somebody snitched. The Vice Principal showed up and Blake was suspended and banned from the prom. But that wasn’t the worst part. Ivy could have handled a suspension, she would have gone to prom with her friends and met up with Blake afterward. She could have laughed with him at a suspension.

“Look, Babe, fighting is my life. If you can’t get on board with that, then maybe we can’t be together anymore.” Those were his exact words and they struck Ivy like a knife. No apology, no offer to make it up to her, just teenage swagger.

“What about my life?” Ivy asked him as tears rolled down her eyes. “What about what I want.”

Blake crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders looking off to the side. “That’s not really my concern.”

They had broken up that day and hadn’t spoken since. Ivy spent prom night crying into her pillow while her friends had a blast. But that was high school. It was a long time ago. She was a grown woman with a good job and her MBA. She made a lot of money and she did very well on the dating scene. She was not one of those girls who was hung up on her high school sweetheart. She honestly hadn’t thought of Blake in years. But now he was here in front of her and he looked like a man.

He was full grown and strong. She had no idea how he had got so strong. She could see the individual muscles on his triceps. It was all too easy to image him swooping her up in those arms. No, those arms were far too tempting.

“See something you like?” Blake asked.

Ellen and Jonas had left the kitchen while Ivy had been lost in her thoughts and she was surprised to see herself alone with Blake.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She stood up and put her plate in the sink. Her hands were shaking and she needed them to stop. Why did she feel so nervous around Blake? It didn’t used to be like this. She used to feel so relaxed around him. She was always herself with Blake. She never needed to pretend to be anyone else.

“Think we’ll share a room? Bunk beds maybe?”

“Stop it. This is important to our parents. We need to make this as easy as possible for them.” Ivy sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s good to see you again, Ivy,” Blake said, his voice suddenly serious. She glanced up at him and saw he was staring at her. She was wearing skinny jeans, boots, and a long-sleeve shirt and Blake’s eyes were staring at her, going up and down her body like he was drinking her in until he finally looked into her eyes. “You look good.”

Chapter Three

Blake was in the guest room of Ivy’s house. It doubled as the office and there was an ancient computer on the desk behind him. He began to unpack, lining up his vitamins along the dresser and pulling out his laptop and and chargers. Finally, he found his gym clothes. He hadn’t been lying, he needed to train, but he mostly needed to get away from Ivy. She looked way too good. He had secretly been hoping she would had gotten fat or sloppy.

Teasing her had been fun. Ivy was so pale that any embarrassment turned her cheeks a beet red. She was so embarrassed about it, which only made it easier to get to her. Pale skin and dark hair, kids used to call her Snow White at school.

She looked great. She had filled out her shape, giving her the hourglass figure that had eluded her in high school. She wore clothes that complimented her figure now, long gone the baggy jeans and loose t-shirts of their childhood. They had been replaced with well-fitting clothes tailored to her figure. But Blake had barely noticed her clothes; he had been trying to figure out what was hiding beneath them. He knew what her body used to look like when they were clumsy teenagers, but he was desperate to know what it felt like now.

He shook his head to clear the memory. Their high school romance had been filled with nervous fumbling as they discovered each other’s bodies. He had loved her and she had loved him, up until he had ruined it. He needed to find a way for her to forgive him. Being with Ivy was like nothing else; in all of his years he had never met a woman who compared.

The gym. He needed to go to the gym and lift some weights, hit the bag. He would wear himself out, make himself exhausted so he would be too tired to lust after her. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was his only plan. He took of his shirt and his sweatpants and slipped into his boxer-briefs.

“Sorry!” Ivy squeaked as she looked away from him, a bright red blush spreading across her cheeks. “I came in here to get a cellphone charger. I didn’t know you would be in here.”

“Where did you think I was?” Blake asked, turning to face her. He was in just his boxer-briefs, but he hardly noticed. He wasn’t shy. “I mean, there are only three bedrooms in the house. Jonas and my mom are in one, you’re in the other; it makes sense that I would be here...I think you just wanted to catch a glimpse of me undressed.”

“Please,” Ivy said, throwing back her shoulders and making her way to the desk where she grabbed a phone charger.

With one step, Blake was in front of her, standing between her and the door. “Please what?” he asked with a smirk.

“Ugh,” Ivy said, “I thought we were going to be mature about this.”

“I am being mature. I’m trying to talk to you and you’re running away from me. Is there something you want to tell your stepbrother?” Blake asked.

“Don’t call yourself that,” Ivy countered.

“Why not?” Blake asked taking a step towards her. “Am I something else to you?”

“Yeah. You’re my asshole ex who I hoped I would never have to see again!”

It was like a slap to Blake’s face and he took a step away from her. He should have expected that hit. He should have seen it coming. But he still would have taken it. He deserved it and she deserved to give it to him.

“Look, I’m sorry about prom-” Blake started.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Ivy said. “It was a long time ago and I’ve moved past it. I’m just not enjoying having your presence at the breakfast table.”

“Then why are you up here?”

“Because I needed a phone charger.”

“Now, right now? When you knew I would be in here getting dressed?”

“Blake, I don’t think about you at all,” Ivy said. “The only reason I’m in here is because I honestly forgot about you. It didn't even occur to me that you were still in the house. Don’t try to pretend I’m going to great lengths to see you because I’m telling you I’m not.”

“I thought we were going to be mature about this, Ivy. That was pretty mean,” Blake said as he pulled his gym shorts on and slipped a t-shirt over his head. He didn’t know what he expected. He hadn’t thought Ivy would still be this mad at him. He hoped she would have thawed a little in the last seven years.

He didn't want to fight with her. He wanted to joke with her and laugh, but she was closed off to him. She didn’t want anything to do with him. He didn’t know how he could show her he was sorry about prom and the things he had said. She stopped listening to his apologies the summer of their senior year and she wasn’t interested in listening to them now.

“So you’re still fighting?”

“Yep. And my mom wasn’t lying. I am good at it. I’m damn good. Have you not heard of me at all?” She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Not because I’m famous or anything, but just because you used to know me. My name has never jumped out at you?”

“I saw the commercials for that Vegas fight,” Ivy said shrugging her shoulders. “But I didn’t watch it.”

“Well, you should have. I won in three rounds.”

“I’m not interested in watching two men fight. I don’t really care about it.”

Blake clenched his jaw and nodded as Ivy twisted the knife. Why would he have expected anything different. Ivy was the kind of girl who liked prom and dresses with birds on them; she wasn’t impressed by MMA fighting. It was the one thing Blake was good at and she didn’t care at all.

“Well, it’s been really great talking to you, Sis,” Blake said, standing up and grabbing his gym bag. “It’s been a pleasant conversation where I learned you don’t care about me, don’t think about me and find my profession not worthy of your notice. I guess MMA fighting has nothing on accounting.”

Ivy looked at him in rage. “I’m a financial advisor. I give billionaires investing advice. So, no, it’s not as impressive as punching someone. But I use my brain all day instead of my fists.”

“So you sit in a tiny, windowless office typing all day, maybe you have a client buy you an expensive lunch. Sounds like a waste of a life to me.”

“I have a big office,” Ivy said taking a step towards Blake and poking him in the chest. “And it has lots of windows and I have a secretary who does my typing for me. So try something else.”

“It just sounds like a boring and torturous hell to me,” Blake said with a shrug as he walked out of the room.

He smirked to himself; he knew exactly how worked up Ivy was behind him. She would be standing there with her fists clenched shaking her head at him. He glanced back and she was standing the same way she had when he won their arguments in high school. Ivy hated to lose, but she would never continue their fight in front of their parents.

“Bye, Mom!” he called into the living room where she was sitting next to Jonas and doing the crossword puzzle.

“Dinner’s at six, do not be late!” she called to him.

“Yes ma’am,” and then he was out of the house and back in suburbia. He stepped out into the foggy air of his northwestern home town. It was good to be back. Everything felt familiar. He was bigger now, stronger and more mature. Everything around him looked smaller and he was well aware of how much time had passed since he had last been to town.

He hopped into his car and drove the old route to his gym, making the turns and stops without having to think about it. He was, instead, thinking about Ivy. He wished he could read her mind. He was desperate to know what she was thinking. Was she still mad about their high school breakup? Blake felt guilty about it to this day; he hadn’t handled it well. They had been too young and too much in love. His feelings about her had been so intense. He hadn’t been ready for them yet. He wasn’t ready for them now.

Teasing Ivy was one thing, but that was all it could be. He didn’t want a girlfriend. He didn’t want someone who was going to worry about him or expect him home at a certain time. He liked having his own life and his own space. He only had room for girls like Michelle and no-strings-attached sex. Just two people having a good time with no expectations and no rules.

Still, though, he liked making her blush. He loved the way her pale skin showed her emotions so clearly. She would look down as the red passed over her nose and cheeks and then she could glance up to see if anyone was watching her. When they made eye contact at those moments she would blush more and look away, and Blake would be putty in her hands.

He pulled up to the gym and grabbed his gear as he walked inside. He took a deep breath of the gym that smelled like plastic and metal and sweat. It felt good to be back. Everything made sense there for Blake.

Chapter Four

“This was waiting for you, dear,” Ellen said as she passed a white envelope to Ivy.

It was a small and thin envelope, the kind used for Hallmark cards. Ivy flipped it over in her hands and looked at it. Her name was written on the front in perfect and beautiful calligraphy. The loops and lines of her name were meticulously done.

She ripped open one end, being sure not to mar the calligraphy on the front. Inside was a small store bought card, which she stared at in confusion. On the front was a cartoon image of a dog looking up at a crescent moon. She opened it and, inside, in a cartoony font, were the words, “I miss you to the moon and back.” There was no writing on the inside of the card. She flipped it over and looked on the back, but nothing was there either. “Ellen,” Ivy called over the house. “Who is this card from?”

Ellen walked back to the living room and took the card from Ivy and looked at it. “I don’t know, dear,” she responded. “It was in the mailbox...”

“But there’s no stamp or anything. Someone must have hand delivered it. Have you seen anyone at the house?”

“No,” Ellen said with a shake of her head.

Ivy took the card back and looked at it. The cartoon dog on the front was looking over its shoulder to the viewer and had an odd, grimacing smile. It sat alone on a hilltop with nothing but the moon above it. She looked at the envelope and her beautifully stylized name next to the card.

“Maybe it’s from a friend who heard you were back from a visit,” Ellen offered as she walked away.

“Maybe...” Ivy said as she slipped the card back into its envelope and put it in her purse. This didn’t sound like the kind of thing one of her friends would do. Why would they come all the way to the house only to leave an unsigned card and leave? Maybe it was Blake. But no, this wasn’t Blake’s style. He hated store bought cards and thought they were a waste of money. He would also never leave anything unsigned. Blake didn’t hide or sneak around; he did exactly what he wanted when he wanted.

She shook her head is if that could clear the thought of him from her mind. She needed to stop thinking about him. She couldn’t let him in again. Blake hadn’t changed at all in the last five years. He was still the arrogant selfish jerk he had been in high school. He was still charming and witty and funny, but his negative traits overwhelmed the positive ones and she needed to remember that.

She slipped the card and the envelope into her bad. There’s no way it’s from Darryl, she reminded herself. He had moved back east and last she heard was living in New York City. There was no way Darryl had come all the way across the country to give her an unsigned letter.

“It’s not Darryl,” she whispered as she zipped the card and envelope into her bag. She said it like a prayer or maybe something more like a wish.

“Ready to go?” Ellen asked, sticking her head into Ivy’s room.

“Sure,” Ivy answered, painting an excited expression on her face. She and Ellen were going to look at flowers and the country club where she and Jonas would hold their small wedding.

Unlike Jonas, Ellen had never been married before; Blake’s father had skipped town not long after his birth. She was excited for her upcoming wedding even though it was going to be on the smaller side.

Ivy drove down the residential streets of her hometown. They weren’t that strange or unfamiliar to her. She had moved to Seattle about six months ago and had been back to see her father almost every weekend. Now that Jonas had Ellen he would need to see Ivy less and she still wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She wanted her father to be happy, of course. She just wished he had found happiness with someone else. But that wasn't fair. Ellen was sitting next to her, amiably chatting about flowers and food and invitations. She was a nice and good woman and Ivy was happy her father had found someone worthy of him.

“Have you two decided on a honeymoon location yet?” Ivy asked.

“Well, we want to go to Hawaii, but your father is so worried about leaving his store for two weeks. Has he really never taken a vacation?” Ellen asked.

“We used to do long weekend trips,” Ivy answered with a smile. “Sometimes going to the beach or camping. But you shouldn’t let him use the store as an excuse. He has an excellent assistant manger and he deserves the time off. Besides, I’m only an hour away. I can go look in on it for his peace of mind.”

“You’re a good daughter,” Ellen said. “I always liked you when you and Blake were together. You were good for him.”

“Thanks. But that was a long time ago. Blake and I are different people now.”

“Not Blake, he’s exactly the same as ever.”

Ivy agreed with a nod. But she was desperate to change the subject. She didn’t want to talk about Blake. She didn’t want to think about him. But no matter how hard she tried to put him behind her, he kept popping up in her vision.

“Roses and lilies are my favorite flowers,” Ellen said as they wandered the fragrant smelling floral shop. There were brilliant red roses with sharp thorns, white lilies with pink centers, and tall, purple irises.

“Maybe you should have roses for your bouquet and lilies for the centerpiece,” Ivy offered.

“I think that sounds lovely,” Ellen offered. “There are so many colors to choose from. It could be a veritable rainbow of flowers in the hall.”

“That sounds nice,” Ivy said. And it did sound nice. She was going to keep herself together with her father’s upcoming wedding. She was not going to let Blake and his teasing ways get to her.

“Ivy,” Ellen said, turning with a single rose in her hand. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Of course,” Ivy answered. She figured it might have been a money question. Ivy worked in finance and she was used to people asking her questions about their 401k or investments they wanted to try.

“I’m just so happy that you approve of my relationship with your father. It means the world to me and to Jonas and I really want you to be involved in the wedding. I was hoping I could ask you to be my Maid of Honor.” Ivy looked at Ellen in shock. But before she could speak Ellen continued quickly. “It wouldn’t be much work. I don’t want a bridal shower or anything like that. Just someone to come with me to buy my dress and help me get ready the day of. I don’t have any sisters-”

“Ellen, I would love to,” Ivy answered taking the other woman’s hand in hers.

Tears filled Ellen’s eyes and she looked away quickly, wiping them with a smile as she turned to look at a heart-shaped arrangement.

Ivy was not going to be some spoiled teenager who ruined her father’s wedding. She was going to do whatever it took make sure it went off without a hitch. She would help Ellen as best she could and she would work at the hardware store herself if that was what it took to get her father to enjoy his honeymoon.

“Jonas is going to ask Blake to be his Best Man,” Ellen said. “What do you think Blake will say?”

“An opportunity for Blake to be at the center of the action, there’s no way he’ll pass it up,” Ivy answered. Plus, she knew Blake would take every chance he could get to tease Ivy. But he would also be good at it. Blake was a lot of things, but he was a good friend and you could always rely on him.

Chapter Five

“Blake!” The shout echoed across the gym as all the heads turned to look at him. A short, stocky, but strong looking man jogged over to Blake and threw his arms around him.

“Hey, Paulie,” Blake said as he returned the hug. “It’s good to see you, old man.”

And with that, Paulie socked him right in the stomach. “Call me and old man with your guard down, that’s what you get,” he said with a loud staccato laugh. He threw his arm around Blake’s shoulder as Blake coughed and tried to catch his breath from the shorter man’s surprisingly strong punch.

Paulie pulled Blake over to a corner where a punching bag hung from a chain, swinging slightly back and forth. Blake put his bag down and began to tape up his knuckles as Paulie hurried around him, getting water bottles and pads ready for the training.

“I saw that Vegas fight; boy you were good,” Paulie said, slapping Blake on the back. “You hung back, you waited and when the opportunity presented itself wham, bam! You push him into a corner and then you give him that kick to the face. I bet that guy couldn’t see straight for a week.”

The Vegas fight had been Blake’s biggest fight to date. It was a live in front of a screaming crowd and was simulcast on HBO. For the weeks leading up to it he was a celebrity -  interviews, photo shoots, and fancy lunches with reporters. It had been great and he was ready for more. The only thing that left a bad taste in his mouth was that Ivy hadn’t noticed. He had his fifteen minutes of fame while she had been looking the other way.

“Go outside and run around the block. I’ll be timing you and when you come back we’ll do some burpees and get you nice and warmed up,” Paulie ordered as he pulled out his stopwatch.

Dutifully Blake started jogging making his way to the door and then outside into the misty mid morning weather. He took a deep breath of the wet air. He could taste the rainwater on his tongue and he could smell the wet earth around him. He liked living in the city, and he never wanted move. But it was nice to come out to country, to breath fresh air and see trees above him. He made a right and continued around the block. He was in great shape and his heart rate slowly increased as sweat began to form on his brow. He liked to work out. He loved his job and this was part of it. Working out, pushing his body as far as he could go and coming out stronger on the other side.

He finished his lap around the block and re-entered the gym where Paulie was waiting. Blake jumped up and then squatted down until he was on the floor; he completed one push up and then jumped up again. He did twenty burpees and even in his excellent shape he was winded at the end when Paulie finally let him stop.

Paulie was a good coach and Blake was focused and ready to train. When he trained and when he fought, there was nothing else happening in the world. There was only his body, his muscle memory working on its own. Paulie stood behind the large punching bag as Blake brought his fist up and jabbed with his left hand and then his right.

His mind was blank; he wasn’t thinking about anything. He was just moving, focusing on staying on his feet and hitting the bag as hard as he could. But as he hit and kicked at the bag, he started seeing something else: Ivy, with her long dark hair and her flawless skin, Ivy who always seemed to be making herself smaller, gathering herself up, pulling her knees up when she sat down. She was always protecting herself.

He remembered the blush on her pale skin. He remembered the way he used to brush his fingers across her red cheek. She would giggle and look away and he would tilt up her head so she had to look at him. He had loved her more than he had ever loved anything else. Blake fell back as the bag hit him full in the chest. “What the hell, man!?” he demanded as he stumbled to his feet.

“Where’s your brain at?” Paulie demanded. “It’s not here, not in this gym. So where is it?”

Blake opened his mouth and then closed it, he had no answer.

“It’s a damn girl, isn’t it?” Paulie asked. “Women, I love ‘em, but women and fighting don’t mix. You can’t be thinking about your girl while you’re punching another man. Women are soft and delicate, they don’t belong in the ring or at training. You need to put her away.”

“It's’ not-” Blake started.

“Don’t make any excuses to me,” Paulie spit. “I’ve been doing this my whole life. I know what a man obsessed looks like. But the only thing you need to be obsessed with is tomorrow’s fight. Keep your mind there; think of the ring and the crowd. Think of your opponent. You have a lot of natural talent, but that will only take you so far. Now you need to work on your mental game. You need to learn to compartmentalize. Put your girl in a box and close that box up when you're in the ring and when you’re training. She only comes out when you have the time to really think about her. When you can give her your full attention, that’s when you think about her or she’s going to be the end of you.”

Blake nodded. Paulie was right. He hadn’t seen the bag coming and it wasn’t a small bag. He hadn’t been focused on his training. He had been lazy and complacent and that was the best way to lose a fight.

“She beautiful?” Paulie asked.

“Stunning,” Blake answered.

“Well, when you’re here, I’m the only lady in your life. Take your pretty girl and put her in a room and close the door; she’ll still be waiting for you when you’re done. Go take a lap.”

Blake nodded and headed for the door. He knew Paulie was right. Blake had been training with him since he was thirteen. As a fatherless child, he couldn’t not get into trouble. He kept getting into fights at school and out of school. Kids challenged him and with every fight he got a little better until he wasn’t scared of fighting anymore. He was good at it and he didn’t miss an opportunity to fight when one came along. He was suspended multiple times and arrested twice, but still he didn’t stop. Finally, a guidance counselor offered boxing as a training for Blake, he said it might be a good way to get Blake’s aggression out. He was right. Blake spent every day after school training in Paulie’s gym. He kept his grades up slowly so he could keep coming to the gym. Paulie was the closest thing to a father Blake had ever had. He had taught Blake how to shave, how to drive, and the right kind of deodorant.

The cool air outside was bracing, and Blake ran faster both to warm himself up and spend less time outside in the mist that was about to turn to all out rain. Put Ivy away. Not forever, but just for now. Just while I’m training, just while I am in the fight. He knew how important the mental game was. So as he ran around the block he imagined a long hallway with a door at the end in an old fashioned house. He took Ivy by the hand and opened the door and put her inside. He closed the door and ordered her remain there.

But it was pointless. Even as he was trying to put her away she was popping up in his thoughts. He would see her again tonight and many times after that. He was already thinking about when he would see her next. He sped around the block and back into the gym.  He focused on Paulie’s instructions, focused on his muscles as he lifted weights, focusing on each one individually.

Paulie himself put on the mitts. Blake was worried about him; he had to be in his sixties. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt him, but he also could never insult him.

“Don’t hold back,” Paulie threatened putting the training mitts up.

“When are you going to get someone else to hold the mitts, Paulie?” Blake asked.

“When it hurts too much for me to hold them two days in a row. But that hasn’t happened yet. The hardest hitters have been in here and I’ve outlasted them all.”

Blake squared his shoulders and jabbed at the mitt and then took a full swing at it. Paulie didn’t even wince as he absorbed the hit. Maybe he wasn’t too old just yet. Blake focused on the mitts in front of him and he hit them solid and center square; it was enough to send any man stumbling back.

He was exhausted by the time he was done. He was covered in sweat and even with the tape his knuckles were bruised and raw. Under Paulie’s direction he stretched and hydrated and finally headed home.

Ivy and his mom were still gone and it felt strange to be in Ivy’s house without her. But Jonas’ house was nicer than his mom’s apartment and she had moved in three months ago.

They came home while Blake was in the shower. He was leaning against the wall, letting the hot spray of water massage his back when he heard Ivy enter. Ivy whom he had barely manage to keep out of his thoughts was back with a vengeance. If only she were in here with him, the warm water cascading down her skin.

No, that was no good. Paulie was right, she was too distracting. He stepped out of the shower and right into Ivy as she was barreling down the hallway. “Have a nice day out?” The blush crept up her chest and over her cheeks as she answered yes and hurried away from him.

Chapter Six

Ivy flipped through the channels, skimming past the available entertainment at midnight on a Saturday. Her father and Ellen had gone to bed hours ago and Blake had retreated to his room not long after dinner. Ivy sat back on the couch and stopped at a Law & Order re-run, trying to figure out what year it had been filmed by the actors’ hairstyles.

“You know, on Law & Order they make it seem like people stumble over dead bodies every day.” Ivy whipped her head around to see a shirtless Blake standing in doorway to the living room. “Every time I go to get a cup of coffee I expect to see a body and I’m always a little disappointed when it doesn’t happen.”

“You’re disappointed when you don’t find a dead body?” Ivy demanded, ordering her eyes to stay on his face.

“Not anyone I know or anything,” Blake said as he walked into the living room and flopped into her father’s recliner. “I just want to be the extra in the first five minutes. I would find a dead body, call the cops and my job would be over and I would have a great story to tell. I’m just saying, Law & Order makes it look like an everyday thing and it’s never happened to me.”

Ivy tried to fight the smile from her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the television. But out of the corner of her eye she could see Blake stretched out on the chair. It wasn't fair how he looked without a shirt on. He had a six-pack and strongly defined pectorals all leading to his strong shoulders and then his arms.

“So, what’s been up, Ivy?” Blake asked. “Other than our parents dating, of course.”

Ivy felt herself begin to blush as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Since when was she this nervous around Blake? But then again, he was somehow different than his younger self. He was still cocky, of course, but something else about him was different; Ivy just couldn’t put her finger on it.

“I went to college at UCLA and then got my MBA and now I work for a consulting firm. I’m actually in Seattle now.” For some reason she found she couldn't look at him and she focused on Sam Watterson yelling at a judge on television.

“You know I’m in Seattle, right?” Blake asked, sitting forward in his chair. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because we hadn’t talked since high school,” Ivy said. “We weren’t speaking so I don’t know why I would call you to hang out. Not that I care about high school anymore, it just had been so long, I thought it would be better to leave things the way they were.”

Blake nodded with a frown. “I would have liked to see you,” he answered. “I tried to call you and get in touch, but you never got back to me, which makes me think you are mad about prom.”

“I’m twenty-five years old,” Ivy said with a scoff. “I don’t care about that anymore. You’re the one who keeps bringing it up.”

“Fair enough,” he said, putting his hands up. “Want to play the Law & Order drinking game? Every time San Watterson is shocked you have to take a shot.”

“You’d be wasted by the first commercial break,” Ivy said, and just like that she was smiling again. Blake could do that, be on her last nerve one moment and have her giggling the next.

“I know you can hold your liquor,” Blake said. He stood up and disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of whiskey and two souvenir shot glasses. He put the glasses on the table and poured two shots just as Sam Watterson said he “couldn’t believe it.” They clinked their glasses together and poured back the shot.

Ivy shook her head as the liquid burned down her throat. “You trying to get me drunk, Blake?” Ivy asked.

“I never really had to try at that,” Blake responded. “You were very good at sneaking your father’s booze out of the house.”

“I got caught more than once,” Ivy said as she tipped another shot into her mouth.

“And you never learned your lesson.”

Ivy could feel the warmth of the whiskey spread through her stomach as her cheeks began to flush. Already she was feeling a little tipsy. “You’re one to talk,” she said, turning to face him. “How many times did you get busted for fighting? I know about the times in school, but how many times did the cops pick you up for it?”

“I never got charged with anything and I made a career out of it,” Blake answered. “You might not have heard about me, Ivy. But I’m actually pretty good.”

“At fighting? You’re good at hitting another man?” Ivy countered.

“Yeah,” Blake answered, and then Ivy noticed they were both on the edge of their seats.

They had shifted to get even closer to each other. Their knees were almost touching, but Ivy was worried about what might follow even if a tiny part of them were to touch. She wasn’t sure she could stop herself. She knew there was a line she shouldn’t cross, but she didn't know where that line was. It might be something as innocent as two knees touching that led to her being wrapped up in his arms.

Behind her the show was ending, the credits were rolling and Ivy quickly stood up. “It’s late,” she said. “I should go to bed.” She needed to get out of there before she got more comfortable with him.

“All right,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. Ivy went to her childhood bedroom and closed the door firmly behind her. She crawled into her old twin bed and she tried to calm her beating heart. She needed to keep it together; she still had two more days of dealing with him. She needed to try to keep herself together for two more days. But Blake was so tempting. He was so strong and confident and funny. She had forgotten how much fun it was to be with him. He knew her so well; he knew just what to say to get a reaction from her.

She woke up to him doing push-ups in the living room.

“Really?” she demanded as she stepped over him. Ivy could not function before coffee. Her hair was a mess on her head and she was wearing a set of pajamas with ladybugs on them. Blake was wearing a pair of loose fitting gym shorts and a tight, black, sleeveless shirt.

“Gotta stay in good shape,” Blake said even though he was short of breath as he continued to pump out push-ups. “But I love to work out to an audience if that’s what you're into.”

“Yeah,” Ivy said, crossing her arms. “I’m really into push-ups, so keep going, just do push-ups.”

“I can do this all day,” he said, but Ivy could hear the hitch in his breath and she could see the sweat beading on his forehead.

“I’m not into quitters,” Ivy said as she saw Blake’s arms start to shake.

“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine,” he grunted.

“I’m on twelve,” Ivy answered.

Blake collapsed onto the mat he had been working out on. He huffed and puffed for breath as Ivy shook her head. “I did a lot while you were still in bed,” he tried to explain.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Ivy said as she strolled into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Ellen and her father were gone, both at work.

“So, you gonna watch my match this week?” Blake asked as he took a heavy swig from his water bottle.

“When is it?” Ivy asked as she flipped through the newspaper.

Blake took the paper out of her hand and showed her the sports page. Above the fold was a picture of Blake, going head to head against another man, Marco Johnson. “Friday at 8:00 pm. Prime Time, how have you not heard about this?”

“Well, I only watch TV that’s created by Shonda Rhimes, and she does medical dramas and political thrillers, not cage matches.”

“It’s not a cage match,” he said, dropping the paper on the table. “It’s MMA fighting and it’s a real thing. There’s a big world out there, far bigger than some soap opera on TV.”

“And fighting is somehow more serious and worthy of notice than an award winning television show?”

“The fights are real,” Blake countered, “and anything could happen in them. Fiction has nothing on that.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on watching your fight. But if it’s that important to you, I will,” Ivy said rolling her eyes.

“I think you might like what you see, Ivy,” Blake said as he left the kitchen.

She watched him go and looked down at the newspaper ad. Blake’s face was etched in black and white and he looked stern, almost scary, as he sneered at his opponent. Below it were quotes that said, “fight of the year,” and “Lambert is a knock out!” She had always shied away from Blake’s MMA career. It seemed too intense and too violent and she had never seen a single fight he had been in. She had to admit he was successful at it, but she still wasn’t sure if she could bring herself to watch him in a no-holds-bar against another man.

Chapter Seven

“Ten more, reps,” Paulie said as he stood over Blake.

Blake took a deep breath and slowly benched pressed the eighty pounds up and down as he counted through puffs of breath.

“Four, three, two...one.” With one last push he rested the bar on it’s holder and fell back on the bench gasping for breath. “You did good,” Paulie said, helping Blake sit up. He handed him a bottle of water and Blake gulped it down. “You’re really pushing yourself today,” Paulie continued. “Where’d all this focus come from?”

He stood up to stretch, but really he just needed to move. He still couldn’t believe Ivy had no idea the level of success Blake had received. He had endorsement deals, he had been on the cover of magazines, he had been interviewed by Rolling Stone, and the one person he wanted to impress had no idea. “I just want to win,” Blake said.

Ivy would be watching this match. He would make sure of it. Then she could see how far he had come. He wasn’t the street fighting kid from his youth. He was a man building an empire now. He was good at what he did and Ivy would have to see that everything that had happened had been worth it, including the fight that had gotten him suspended senior year.

“Well, I think I know what’s really on your mind,” Paulie said, but he wasn’t looking at Blake, he was looking past him, “and she just walked through the door.”

Blake turned around and saw Ivy walking through the gym. She looked too good for the setting. She was wearing a pair of skintight blue jeans with a blue sweater and black boots that came up to her knees. She looked like a fashion model on her way to a shoot.

“I’m gonna go grab a smoke,” Paulie grumbled. “Don’t waste the time I’m giving you, because once I’m back in here we’re back to work and your girl heads home.”

“She’s not my girl,” Blake said standing up.

Paulie said nothing, but turned on his heels and headed for the back door.

“Hey,” Blake said as Ivy approached him.

“You forgot your phone,” Ivy said pulling it out of her pocket and handing it over. “Your mom asked me to bring it over.”

“Thanks,” Blake said, taking the phone from her hand. But to his surprise, Ivy didn’t leave.

She put her hands in her back pocket and looked around the gym. “Nice place you got here,” she said.

Blake looked around the dark gym. He could see how it could look unfriendly to an outsider. There was a large center ring, with harsh lights above it and the bare bones materials needed for training. But Blake loved it here. He knew it was worth it. “Best gym in the world,” Blake answered. “I tried to get Paulie to open a gym in Seattle, but he refused to move,” Blake said with a shrug. “I come home just to train here at least once a month.”

“I feel like I come home once a month, too. It’s crazy we haven't run into each other.”

“Well, now our parents live together, so I imagine we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“I imagine so,” Ivy said, looking up at him through his lashes.

Blake opened and then closed his mouth not sure what to say. Was she flirting with him? There was only one way to find out. “You worried, Ivy? You look a little nervous.”

“I’m not scared, are you?”

“I’m not scared of anything,” Blake said taking a step towards her.

“Because you know how to fight?” Ivy asked. She was standing next to the punching bag and she lifted her hand and gave it a gentle push making it swing back and forth.

“I guess that’s one reason,” he answered. “There aren’t a lot of people who can beat me in a fight.”

“Can you show me?”

“Show you how to fight?” Blake asked.

“Yeah. I’ve never been in a fight before. I’m not sure how well I would do, but it would be nice to know how to throw a punch.” She stopped the punching bag with her hand and gave him a questioning smile.

“All right, I’ll teach you how to throw a punch,” Blake said. “First let's wrap your knuckles.” He took her soft and small hands in his own and gently wrapped black tape around her knuckles, telling her to open and close her fist to make sure it wasn’t too tight. “Okay,” Blake said. He maneuvered Ivy in front of the punching bag. He kicked her legs shoulders’ width apart and squared her shoulders. “You’re not very strong, so you need to use your whole body when you punch.” He stood next to her in a fighting stance and pulled his fist back and put his weight on his back leg and then stepped forward and punched forward, hitting the bag and pushing it back.

“Okay,” Ivy said. Blake moved to the other side of the bag and held it steady for her. Ivy concentrated, leaned back and then stepped forward with the weakest punch he had ever seen.

“Come on,” Blake said. “You won’t hurt yourself, put your back into it. Imagine someone you really hate and put their face on the bag and then hit it with all you’ve got.”

Ivy nodded and brought up her fist and launched it at the punching bag.

“Better,” Blake said. “Again.”

Ivy hit the bag again and each time her fist was a little more confident and she was hitting the bag harder.

“Good,” Blake said, coming over to her and standing behind her. “But follow through with your arm.” He lifted her right arm and pulled it back. “It’s all in your shoulder,” he said, guiding her arm forward and gently bringing it to contact with the bag.

He was suddenly aware of how close they were standing. She was slightly out of breath and he could hear her panted breathing. Her wrist was still in his hand and her pulse was under his thumb, her heart racing, and he wondered if it had been the training or something else. He could smell the shampoo she used, he was that close to her neck. He could lean forward just slightly and place a gentle kiss right on the nape of her neck. Right on that place he knew drove her wild.

“I got it,” she said glancing back at him. There was a determination in her eyes and he didn’t want to stop it. He took up his position behind the bag is Ivy pulled back and landed a firm hit right at the center of the bag.

“Nice!” Blake said.

“Yeah? That wasn’t too bad?” Ivy asked as she looked up at him.

“That was impressive,” he said. “You just need to put in some more time with the weights and you could be winning fights by the end of the month.”

“My hand hurts,” she said, unclenching her fist.

“Here,” Blake said, taking her hand in his. He wanted to touch her again. Their last moment had been too brief. He wanted her in his arms, where they both belonged. Blake took Ivy’s hand and gently massaged it for a few moments before taking off the tape and throwing it away. Her hand was warm and he couldn’t help himself, bringing her palm up to his lips and kissing it.

Ivy didn’t pull away. Her lips parted as she began to take deeper breaths, but she didn’t pull away. He pulled her closer, still holding her right hand in his. She took a step closer to him and Blake wrapped his arm around her waist as her hand came to rest on his chest.

She was so close to him. She was looking up at him with those dark eyes that had always made him melt. He raised his right hand caressed her cheek, tilting her chin up. Just as he leaned down to kiss her, the back door slammed open.

“Time to get back to work!” Paulie yelled through the empty gym.

Ivy jumped back and out of Blake’s arms. He shook his head and focused on all of the good things Paulie had done for him. He loved the old man, but, at that moment, Blake could have easily thrown a punch at him.

He glanced back at Ivy, but whatever their moment might have been, it had passed. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she was looking anywhere but at Blake. Finally, she glanced at him and he saw the flush in her cheeks and on her chest. She was so naked with her emotions, everything she was feeling reflected on her face; she would have been a terrible poker player.

Blake was consumed with the desire to reach out and touch her. He wanted to run his fingers down her smooth cheek. He wanted to tilt her head up to his and look down into her eyes before he kissed her. He wanted to feel her body flush against his. He wanted to see her smile when he kissed her, to hear her eager sigh in his ear.

But not now. With a wave and a half-smile Ivy was leaving the gym. Walking past the large ring with its blue mats, she reached the door and for a moment her body was outlined by the foggy daylight and then she was gone.

Chapter Eight

Ivy packed quietly and quickly. She was staying for dinner and then heading back home that night. She was happy her father had found Ellen and that they were going to create a shared life together. Her father deserved that happiness; he was good and hardworking and decent and Ivy didn’t want him to be alone. No, Ellen and Jonas’ relationship wasn’t the problem; she was the problem.

Ivy couldn’t stop thinking about Blake. She had offered to bring his cellphone to the gym because she wanted to see him. She would never admit it out loud, but she liked his teasing ways and his jokes. Whatever else he might have been, Blake was always a good time. But he was too dangerous. It was too easy for Ivy to fall back into her old ways with him. If she weren’t careful, she could lose control. It would be all too easy to fall into his arms and she knew he would be waiting to catch her.

She didn’t want to have any reasons to put off her departure. She wanted to be able to grab her things and go before darkness fell. It would be tempting to sit with Blake on the couch, to let herself slip onto his shoulder and rest against him. She would let his hand slide down her back and along her neck. Stop it, she thought to herself. Blake is the same guy he always has been. He’s selfish and the only thing he cares about is himself and his success in the ring.

She heard Blake as he entered the house, slamming the door closed behind him. Ivy zipped up her bag and left it on the bed. She could hear as he bustled around, eventually heading towards the bathroom and turning on the shower. Once Ivy was sure he was in, she finally let herself leave her room.

Soft jazz music was playing over the house as Ivy walked into the kitchen. Ellen and Jonas were both cooking, Ellen chopping vegetables as Jonas cooked chicken on the stove. They looked almost too cute together, like a couple of young lovers without any of the age or baggage they normally carried around.

“Smells delicious,” Ivy said.

“Thanks. Will you set the table?” Jonas asked over his shoulder.

“Sure,” Ivy answered. She moved deftly around her kitchen, staying out of the way of the two cooks as she set out placemats, plates, forks, knives, and glasses.

By the time the table was set Blake had finished his shower and dressed in jeans and a tight, black t-shirt he flopped down in a chair next to the table.

Ivy refused to look at him, fighting the blush she knew was creeping along her chest and cheeks. When she did sit down and take a glance at Blake she could see he was looking at her with a small smile on his face. She could never resist that smile and she had to give one of her own in return. Thankfully Ellen and Jonas quickly joined them as food was spooned out of the bowl and they all dug in.

“This is delicious, Mom…and Jonas,” Blake said through a mouth full of sautéed chicken.

“Do you cook much, Blake?” Jonas asked.

“No, it’s mostly protein shakes and take-out burgers for me,” Blake answered. “But I do miss my mom’s home cooking.”

“She’s an excellent cook,” Jonas agreed, smiling over at Ellen.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Dad,” Ivy cut in.

“So everyone’s a good cook but me,” Blake said with a smile as he took a sip of his water in front of him. He was looking at Ivy as he spoke. In fact every time Ivy glanced at Blake she would find him looking back at her.

“Do you really have to leave tonight, Ivy?” Jonas asked.

From the corner of her eye she could see Blake almost jump a little at the question. He looked at her with a questioning gaze.

“Yeah, I have to get back to work, and I don’t want to have to deal with traffic in the morning,” she lied. She had plenty of vacation time and the commute wasn’t really that bad. But she couldn’t be in this house with Blake and his smile any longer. “It’s been great spending time with the two of you. You both look so happy. I’m really looking forward to the wedding and to being your maid of honor, Ellen.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Next time we should drive up together,” Blake offered. “We should think about the environment and our carbon footprint.”

“I do hope the two of you will get to spend some time together in Seattle,” Ellen said.

“It should be easier now that I know Ivy actually lives in the city,” Blake said.

Ivy smiled and offered no answer to Blake’s unsaid question. He knew why she hadn’t called him and she knew that had been the right decision. She needed to get back to Seattle and back to work so she could forget about him. Once she didn’t have to look at his half-naked body all the time she would have an easier time leaving him behind.

***

Her bag packed, Ivy did a quick sweep of her childhood bedroom to make sure nothing was left behind. She had just grabbed the handle of her bag when Blake appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed and looked wistfully around the room.

“We used to have a lot of very quiet fun in here,” he said. “Remember? You were terrified your dad would hear that you had snuck me in.”

“The folly of youth,” Ivy said shaking her head.

“Can I come in?” Blake asked. He had never asked a question like that before. Blake was not the kind of guy who asked for permission.

“Sure,” Ivy said, feeling that familiar blush creep up on her, “but I’m about to head out.”

“Why?” he asked walking into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. “Why are you leaving?”

“I told you at dinner, I have work.” She looked away from him, but had nothing else to look at and finally she had to look up and meet his intense gaze.

“Why do you want to learn how to fight?” Blake asked.

Ivy opened her mouth and then closed it again, unsure of how she should answer. She shrugged her shoulders and mumbled, “no reason.”

“You always hated fighting when we were together. You would refuse to speak to me for days after I was in a fight.”

“You were fighting in school,” Ivy corrected, her blush gone as she looked boldly into his eyes. “You were getting into fights and getting suspended. It was dangerous and stupid. You could have been expelled or really hurt someone.”

“But now that it’s MMA, you’re okay with it?” He asked.

“I...don’t know,” Ivy said with a shrug. “It definitely makes it more legitimate and there are refs there so nothing too crazy or dangerous will happen. I guess I’ve just realized it’s pointless to fight you on this. You like to fight and you’re always going to like to fight and nothing I do will change that.”

“It’s the only thing I’m good at.”

“That’s not true and you know it. You’re good at lots of things, Blake. You know how to fix electronics; you fished the washing machine and the dishwasher in this house when we were fifteen. I think you could do anything you want, but fighting is easiest so you do that.”

“You think fighting is easy?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Ivy said shaking her head. “I think you’re amazing and you could do anything you put your mind to. I just wish you would pick something else other than fighting. I think you’re better than that.”

He took a step towards her, making them only inches apart. She could feel his cool breath on her exposed collarbone. She looked at his chest and refused to look any higher. His eyes were dangerous pools of blue and she was worried that she would fall into them and never get out.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Blake said. “Why did you want to learn how to throw a punch?”

“Just curious,” Ivy said with a shrug of her shoulders. Her cheeks were burning, but she forced herself to glance up at him. He was far too close. She had the strongest urge to reach out and place her hand on his chest. She wanted to lean into him, to rest against him and feel his hands on her back. This was a bad idea. This was why she had packed her bag earlier. She wanted to avoid this, to avoid temptation.

Chapter Nine

Blake stood over Ivy and watched her blush as it spread over her chest.

“I have to go,” she suddenly said, taking a step away from him. She picked up her duffel bag and sidestepped around her.

“Seriously, Ivy?” Blake demanded. She stopped in her tracks and then turned around slowly to face him. “What is this? One minute you’re flirting with me and the next you’re icing me out. Are you playing a game with me or something? Because the Ivy I used to know would never pull that kind of crap.”

“I’m not playing games with you. I’m stopping myself. Nothing can happen between us, Blake.”

“Why? Because of prom-”

“No!” Ivy interrupted dropping her bag. “It’s because our parents really love each other. My dad deserves to be happy and being with your mom makes him happy. They are going to get married and that will make us stepsiblings. We can’t date. What would happen if we were to break up? We’d still see each other on holidays and birthdays; it would make everything strange and awkward. And why, Blake? Nothing’s changed. You’re still the same self-centered guy you were in high school. I’m not going to wreck this for them just so you and I can have a quick fling. That’s not fair.”

Blake shook his head, and tried to speak, but it was too late. Ivy was already at the door and saying a hurried goodbye to her father. Blake stood frozen on the carpet, unable to take a step forward. He didn’t know if he wanted to convince Ivy to stay or tell her to go to hell. The front door slammed closed and it was like a spell had been lifted; Blake could move.

He walked out into the living room where his mother and Jonas sat, watching Law & Order on the couch. Ellen was leaning back against Jonas’ chest and his arm was wrapped around her. They laughed at something at Blake had to admit that Ivy was right; his mother did look happy.

Blake didn’t know if he was ready to leave his bachelor life behind. He liked being on his own schedule. He did what he wanted when he wanted to. There was no need to check in with anyone to make sure the calendar was clear like so many of his buddies. If someone put together a ski trip, Blake was onboard. He had a rotation of girls who called him when they were in town. Musicians, dancers, artists, was he really ready to settle down with on girl?

Maybe, if that girl were Ivy. But no, that was just wishful thinking. A tiger can’t change its stripes. Blake’s mother had done a lot for him. He had always been a fighter. Anytime he saw a kid get bullied, Blake would step in to stop it. It started with his friend Tommy who got his lunch money stolen and got punched in the stomach on his way to school. When eight-year-old Blake heard the story from his crying friend, he vowed to stop the bigger who had done it.

That was the first fight he lost. The ten-year-old, Phillip Miller, who lived down the street took him out with one punch to the face. One hit and he was on his back on the pavement seeing stars. He remembered looking up at the blue sky he could see between the leaves and thinking this isn’t that bad. And it wasn’t. Getting hit hurt, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he feared it would be. The next time he fought Phillip, Blake would win.

Blake was who he was. He was a fighter; he lived his life fast and free. Ivy understood that, maybe better than he did. She was right. They shouldn’t be together. They were too different. With a sigh, Blake walked into the living room and sat down in one of the chairs. It would have been nice to have tried again with Ivy. Maybe he could have done some miracle and kept them together. But now he would never know.

The next morning Blake was looking under the hood of his mother’s car. He had checked the brake pads and now he was changing the oil. It was a rare sunny day and Blake rolled up the sleeves of his t-shirt and felt the warm sun on his skin.

“Oh, Blake,” his mother said as she came out of the house and walked toward him. “You’re so sweet to do that.” She looked under the hood of the car, but Blake knew she had no idea what she was looking at.

“It’s no problem, Ma,” Blake said.

“I just wanted to thank you for being to nice to Jonas this weekend,” she said, giving him a quick little hug.  “I can remember a time when you were a lot harder on my boyfriends.”

“Yeah, well. You dated a lot of jerks,” Blake answered.

“So you like Jonas?”

“Yeah, he’s a good guy. Plus, he raised Ivy and she’s almost perfect, so he has good instincts.”

“I’m glad you like him, Blake. I know this is strange, what with the past you and Ivy have.”

“It’s fine, Mom. It’s not a big deal.”

“Good, because I wanted to ask you a favor.”

“Sure, what?” Blake asked.

“Since you approve of Jonas, I was hoping I could ask you to walk me down the aisle. My father died so long ago. You don’t have to...”

“Of course I will,” Blake answered. He threw down the rag he was working with and hugged his mother. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Oh, Blake. I am,” Ellen answered.

He had to get out of there. There was too much love and happiness. It didn’t fit with his current mood. He went to his old familiar bar downtown. Normally he would have headed straight for the bar to try and see if anyone he knew was around. But today he didn’t feel like talking. He took a quiet booth in the back and watched the Seahawks game on the screen.

His brain had stopped trying to find a way out of it. He needed to forget Ivy and move on. The last time he had tried, it took about three years to finally stop thinking about her every day. He wasn’t sure if he could do again. He would still have to see her and spend time with her. They would definitely see each other at the wedding, at least.

He drank his beer quickly and switched to whiskey. He had a fight coming up and he needed to make weight. The bar was dark and quiet and it was exactly what Blake wanted. He didn’t have the energy to do anything else. He didn’t want to train or party and he wasn't ready to go back to the house and the happy couple.

“You normally call me when you’re in town.” The voice was low and gravelly and Blake could hear the rasp from all the cigarettes. He looked up at Amy DeMayo. She was tall and thin with lanky brown hair. She was wearing a bit too much makeup, streaks of bright blue sparkling shadow over her eyes.

Amy had been a year below Blake and Ivy in school. She always had a crush on Blake, but Ivy had been in the picture and she was the only girl Blake had eyes for. But after Blake and Ivy had broken up Amy appeared and the rest was a slightly regrettable history. Amy still lived in their hometown.  She worked as a cashier at the local Stop and Shop. The last time they had been together Amy had wanted to take their relationship from friends with benefits to serious relationship and Blake turned her down. They hadn’t spoken since.

“I thought the nature of our relationship had changed,” Blake offered, eyes still on the game.

“Why would you think that?” Amy asked, sliding into the other side of the booth. She pulled a cigarette from her pack and lit up; this was one of the last bars in town you could still smoke in.

Blake frowned at the smoke. He was in good shape, he took care of his body, and smoking was not a turn-on for him. “Look Amy, you’re a great girl. But nothing’s changed on my end. I don’t want to be in a serious relationship with anyone. I don’t want to lead you on.”

“Just because I can’t be your girlfriend doesn’t mean we can’t still still have a good time,” she said, taking a deep drag from her cigarette. He felt her foot, free of its shoe begin to slide up his leg.

He looked over at Amy, she looked tired and her teeth and eyes were yellowing. For the first time, possibly ever, Blake realized that he was not in the mood. “I don’t think so, Amy,” Blake said jerking his leg away from her foot.

“What?” Amy demanded staring at him over the table.

“I said I’m not into it anymore, Amy.” He looked back up at the TV and sat back in the booth. Amy snarled at him and shook her head. He heard her call him a nasty name under her breath as she scooted out of the booth and stomped back to the bar.

Chapter Ten

“Hi, Dad,” Ivy said as she picked up the phone. She was back at work. Ivy had her own private office on the ground floor with a view to the park behind the building. It was modern and sleek with glass walls and a large, dark mahogany desk. She liked her office. It made her feel like a proper adult, instead of a teenager running around in a power suit.

“Ivy, sweetheart. We missed you at breakfast,” her father shouted over the line.

Ivy shook her head and turned down the volume. She could never understand why her normally quiet father felt the need to shout over the telephone. “Sorry, Dad. But I had to get back to work.”

“Of course, I understand. Now I got this letter about my retirement account. Can I read it to you?”

“Sure, Dad,” Ivy said. She listened as her father, in an even but loud voice, shouted the contents of the letter over the phone. It was standard stuff about the fed raising interest rates. Ivy had to calm about a dozen clients down about it. She waited until her father read the entire letter, all the way to the end before she spoke. If she tried to interrupt, he would just keep going until the letter was done. “It’s nothing to worry about, Dad,” Ivy said and she gave him the same lengthy explanation she had given to her other clients. Oddly enough Ivy didn’t mind this part of the job. She liked being able to calm people down and give them a sense of ease about their money. Times were tough and people were nervous. It felt good when she could easily ease their fears.

Sometimes it wasn’t easy. Sometimes Ivy had to deliver bad news. She hated having to do that, but it was part of the job. She felt for every client who made a bad investment or trusted the wrong advice. She had yet to be the cause of anyone’s great financial loss and she was hoping to keep that streak alive as long as possible.

“Well, as long as you don’t think I have to worry...” Jonas said, but Ivy knew he was already calmer; she could hear it in his voice.

“You don’t have to worry.”

“Good, although there was something else I wanted to talk with you about. I heard about the unsigned card from Ellen. You should have told me about that, Ivy,” Jonas said.

“Dad, I didn’t want to worry you. Besides nothing else happened, so I don’t think it was from him.”

“Who else would be sending you hand stenciled cards with nothing inside?”

“Maybe it was sent out by mistake, and whoever wrote it forgot to sign it,” Ivy said. Her voice was growing desperate and she was aware she was grasping at straws.

“There was no address on it. It was hand delivered. It was Darryl. We should have called the police and filed a report.”

“A report that said what? A blank card was left at our house. Last time I checked that wasn’t a crime.”

“But trespassing is. You have a restraining order against Darryl. He’s not allowed within fifty feet of you and he’s not allowed to contact you.”

“We can’t prove it was Darryl,” Ivy said. She rubbed her temple with her hand. Ivy knew what her father was saying was right. She should file a report; a paper trail was the best way she could defeat Darryl. But it was so hard to go down to the police station to file these kinds of reports. The officers would look at her like she was crazy or, worse, spoiled. Her first complaint had been about a strange gift left on her doorstep it was a doll with its eyes cut out and its throat slashed. There was the other time she had filed a report for the eighteen threatening messages Darryl had left on her voicemail. That report earned her a restraining order, but it hadn’t stopped him.

“Just because his parents have a lot of money does not mean that he is above the law,” her father yelled into the phone.

Except it kind of does, Ivy thought. Darryl’s parents were heirs to a logging fortune and his lawyers worked out plea deals or made up defenses and Darryl got away with a slap on the wrist – if anything at all. It was frustrating for Ivy and hell for her father. He just wanted to protect her, she knew that. But sometimes his crusade on her behalf was exhausting.

“It’s too late now, Dad. And maybe this was for the best. Nothing else happened. Just the dumb card. Maybe the best thing to do is ignore him.” Ivy knew her father didn’t want to hear that. It would sound too much like losing.

“I don’t know what you ever saw in that rich jackass,” Jonas spit.

“I know, Dad.” How many times had they had this conversation? Jonas had never approved of Darryl and Darryl had been outright rude to her father. Their only trip home together ended with Darryl leaving early and Ivy in tears.

“He was spoiled and used to getting what he wanted.”

This was true. Darryl had swept Ivy off of her feet. He bought her expensive gifts and brought her to the best restaurants. He arranged private tours on museums so they could avoid the tourists; he took her out on his sailboat. For a while Ivy thought she could look past Darryl’s shortcomings. But the visit home and showed her what a jerk he really was. She broke up with him on New Year’s day. Darryl begged Ivy to change her mind, but she refused. That was when he started stalking her.

“I wish you would have let me tell Blake,” Jonas said. “He’s in the city with you and he can get to you faster than I can.”

“Dad, no. I don’t need Blake to protect me. I can protect myself. Darryl is just messing with me. We shouldn’t let him get into our heads.”

“All right, but promise me if anything like that happens again you’ll call the cops.”

“I promise. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too, Ivy.”

Ivy hung up the phone and tried to focus on work. But she was shaken up from her phone call. Ivy had actually forgotten about the letter. She hadn’t bothered unpacking yet and it was still zipped up in her bag.

Her father was right; it had obviously been from Darryl. But he hadn’t done anything else. She figured he had seen her and decided to mess with her and then got bored when she didn’t respond. Although that wasn’t really like him…Darryl was like a dog with a bone. When he set his mind to harassing her, he didn’t stop for anything. So why the only one unsigned, hand-delivered letter?

“Courier dropped this off for you,” her assistant Grace said as she walked into the room and placed a large yellow envelope on her desk.

With a sigh Ivy reached for the envelope and with her letter cutter she ripped the paper and a few sheets of glossy photo paper fell out into her hand. She looked down in confusion. She hadn’t ordered any pictures, certainly none this size. The photos were large, eight by ten inches, and it took Ivy a moment to understand what she was looking at. Her stomach dropped and nausea bloomed in her throat as she looked at the shaking pictures.

They were her, taken just yesterday. They were pictures of Ivy jogging to her car with Blake’s phone in her hand. She remembered this. But who had taken the picture? The image was grainy and the detail fuzzy. From the angle she could see that they must have been in her neighbor's bushes. A chill ran down her back as she thought about what this meant.

She quickly flicked through the photos in the set. There were about ten of them, all of Ivy. Close-ups of her face and breasts. She felt cold as she looked at them. She had no idea someone had been looking at her or taking her picture.

Chapter Eleven

Ivy worked in an old building downtown. It was a large glass building with an elegant marble staircase. This sign above the door said Adkins Financial Consulting. Blake pulled open the door and walked into the bright building.

“Good morning. Welcome to Adkins Financial Consulting, can I help you?” a perky assistant asked Blake as he strode up to her desk. She gave him a quick once over and smiled.

“Yeah. I don’t have an appointment, but I was hoping to see Ivy McCormick. I’m an old friend of hers. My name is Blake Lambert.”

“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll see if Ms. McCormick is available,” the receptionist said. Blake nodded and took a seat as he picked up an Entertainment Weekly. And there it was on page fifteen: the upcoming fight everyone was going to to be talking about, Lambert vs. Johnson for the lightweight division. If Blake won this fight he would be nationally ranked in the top five.

He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to spend this much time with Ivy before a fight. He needed to prepare his mental game, as well. He couldn’t be thinking about her while he was in the ring. But he did have an actual financial question and she was a financial expert. In truth, he had no one else to turn to.

No, that was a lie. In truth he wanted to see her. After he sent Amy home he began to wonder why they couldn't be together. Because they might break up? What if they didn’t? And even if they did they could still be civil. There was no way a relationship between Blake and Ivy needed to end the relationship between their parents. But he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to convince Ivy.

“Mr. Lambert,” the receptionist called over. “Ms. McCormick is free if you want to go straight back and to the left.”

Blake nodded and smiled at the receptionist as he walked into the office and turned at a sign for Ivy McCormick’s office.

“Holy crap!” He heard a male voice call from his left. “Are you Blake Lambert?” Blake turned and looked over at a tall looking guy hurrying over to her. “Man, your fight against Romero was amazing! Well worth the price!” The guy slapped Blake on the back and then pulled out his cellphone. “Mind if I get a snap of the two of us?”

Before he knew it Blake was being pulled into a photo and smiling into the reverse lens. He was used to this kind of thing by now, but it was always strange when it happened in offices.

“Tom, what are you doing?” Ivy demanded as she appeared in the doorway. “That is so unprofessional.”

“Sorry,” Tom said. “But it was worth it. And I’m am putting money on you, Lambert. So you better win.”

“I don’t plan to lose,” Blake answered.

“Awesome,” Tom said and he raised his hand and Blake complied giving him a high five as Ivy shook her head in disapproval.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Ivy said as she ushered Blake into her office.

“No worries. I’m used to it,” Blake said as he sat down in a chair on the other side of her large desk.

“How can I help you?” Ivy asked and, for a moment, he didn’t say anything. She was fiddling with everything on her desk moving Post-it notes and pens for no reason.

“I got this offer and my accountant thinks it’s a good idea, but I’m still not sure about it. Would you look at it for me?” Blake asked.

“Sure,” Ivy said, the surprise audible in her voice. Blake handed her a thin pile of paper and Ivy quickly began to scan through the pages. “It’s the financials for an endorsement deal.”

“Yeah, they’re offering me the choice of stock options and a lower promotional fee, or no options and a higher fee for myself. But I don’t know if I’m ready to co-own a company. I don’t really care about the drink company.”

“You won’t have any say in the running of the company,” Ivy explained. “You’ll be more like an investor and your initial investment is your cut in pay. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, but do I want to do that?” Blake asked. “Wouldn’t it be better to take the money up front?”

“It depends on the company. Let’s check their five-year outlook.” Together she broke down the terms of the contract with Blake, explaining every line of it to him. But the one thing she couldn’t do was tell him which offer to take. They were both good; Blake was making decent amount of money and he was determined to be smart with it.

“So, if I go with the stocks I could make more money later. But the company could go under and I could lose my investment. Or I could take all my money up front and not have to worry about it.”

“That’s how it breaks down,”  Ivy answered.

“So which do I go with?”

“It’s up to you,” Ivy said.

“But what would you recommend?”

“I would go with the stock. The company is doing well and looking to expand. But the decision is yours to make and you have lots of time to think about it.”

“Thanks,” Blake answered taking the papers back. “It’s nice to know I have someone I can trust with stuff like this. I like my manager and my accountant, but I don’t trust them like I trust you.”

“Sure, anytime.”

“So, the fight is coming up. I can still get you tickets. It’s great, Ivy. It’s a real party. You might have fun.”

“I don’t think so,” Ivy said with a shake of her head.

Blake nodded and said nothing. He wanted her there. Didn’t she understand she had nothing to worry about? “Okay,” Blake said with a nod.

He replayed that moment over and over in his mind in the days leading up to the fight. He trained hard, pumping weights, punching the bag, and jogging every morning. But he couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation. He should have pressed her more. He should have asked why she didn’t want to go. But all he could do was hear himself say okay and leave.

He focused on not letting the crowd get to him. There were over one thousand people in the stadium. It was being aired on HBO and in countries all over the world. Vegas had two to one odds on Blake and he knew there was a lot of money in the air tonight. People would win or lose fortunes based on his actions in the cage.

Paulie had come to town for the fight and he massaged Blake’s shoulders and poured water into his mouth until Blake heard his name announced over the speaker. Paul slapped him on the back and Blake made his way down the aisle, throngs of screaming fans on either side of him. Some of them were cheering for him, some for Johnson.

Flashbulbs blinded him as he climbed into the cage and jumped up and down, testing the mats. He punched the air a few times and the crowd went wild. But it wasn’t for him. Johnson had entered from the other ring. He was wiry and he snarled as he walked towards the cage. The crowd loved that. Blake looked at his opponent as everything around him quieted and dimmed and the only thing he saw was Johnson.

The crowd didn’t matter. The money didn’t matter. The cheers didn’t matter. The boos didn’t matter. Blake was here for one thing and one thing only. He was here to win. He would not lose. He would not quit. He was going to win this fight.

Johnson entered the ring and the ref stood between them and blew his whistle and they waited for him to exit the cage. Johnson threw a quick hit at Blake, but Blake blocked it and jabbed back. But Johnson was ready for him. They were just testing each other now, searching for weaknesses trying to find a pattern of hits that would work.

He heard a woman scream out, “I love you, Blake.”

He blinked twice as he was driven back by Johnson’s drive. He pulled his hands up to protect his face as Johnson rained blows down. Finally, he took a break and Blake was ready with a kick to the head. He was ready for it, though, and leaned away, rolling over quickly and jumping back up to his feet.

“I love you, Blake!” the woman screamed again. But then it wasn’t some stranger’s voice. It was Ivy’s. The memory hit him like a stack of bricks, Ivy whispering the words as Blake kissed her neck. He missed the hit from Johnson, landing right on the left side of his face and Blake stumbled back. He was zapped back into the moment; he was back at the fight. He was off balance and he was slipping back. He needed to stay upright or he was going to lose. He got his feet under him and blocked Johnson’s hits as best he could. But Johnson managed to connect a few more hits to Blake’s face and he felt a sharp cut form on his left cheek. His nerves were jangled and he gave an uppercut to Johnson, a hit to the stomach, and then a swift kick to his side. Blake kept hitting and punching and he didn’t stop until Johnson was on the ground.

Blake stood heaving for breath as the world spun in front of him. The ref appeared and raised his hand and he heard the roar of the crowd. He was out of breath and shaking. He had almost lost the fight. Ivy was in his brain and he didn't know how he was going to get her out.

Chapter Twelve

All of her doors were locked and her windows were closed with the drapes pulled. Her alarm was set. No one was going to break into her apartment. But Ivy still couldn’t relax. Watching the fight didn’t help. Her heart plummeted when Blake took the hit; she gasped and stood up and it felt like years passed in that second it took him to recover and then he was like a whirlwind as he launched himself at his opponent, unrelenting in his attack.

She hadn’t realized he was so good. But he was light on his feet, and his punches were strong and fast. It was impressive to see him in the ring, even Ivy had to admit that. And now she had to admit that she wanted to see him. She was scared.

Every noise in her apartment made her jump. A car door closing outside, the sounds of footsteps from her neighbors upstairs, every noise made her heart race. Was Darryl coming? What game was he playing? What did he want?

Ivy had spoken to the police earlier in the day. She talked to Detective Diaz who was a tough cop who always took the time to talk and listen to Ivy. She added the info to Ivy’s file against Darryl and promised to follow up on it. But Ivy hadn’t heard anything yet. She was just hoping sending the cops was the right decision. She didn’t want to set Darryl off.

Her phone rang and she gave a quick scream. She looked at the unknown number and hit decline. She paced up and down her small apartment, but could feel the walls closing in on her and every shadow was Darryl lurking in the corner.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Her bag was still packed from her time at her dad’s and she grabbed it and left her apartment. She gripped her mace tightly in her right hand and she checked the trunk and backseat before getting into her car and driving.

She didn’t know where she wanted to go. She wanted to be with people. She didn’t want to be alone. She thought about going to a hotel, but the thought that there was only one door in and out of a room made her nervous. It would be too easy for Darryl to trap her in there if he wanted to.

She had Blake’s address in her phone. She could easily pull it up and drive there. But she didn’t know what he was doing. What if he had a big party planned for after his fight? She didn’t want to be a burden to him. She didn’t want to ruin his victory celebration with her problems. But she had nowhere else to go.

Ivy slammed her hand on the steering wheel. She hated this. She hated how easy it was for Darryl to do this to her. He didn’t even have a real reason to. She only dated him for three months two years ago; they hadn’t even been serious. But Darryl was furious when she ended things with him. He refused to believe this was actually happening. He had never been dumped before.

She knew he had dated other women in the meantime, but he had never forgotten about Ivy. Letters, phone calls, emails, but those were just the start. Soon he would switch to strange and disturbing hand delivered gifts, like the card and the pictures she had recently received.

Darryl had a rhythm to his harassment.  It would start light: a blank card, a few pictures of Ivy out and about in the world all relatively harmless things. Then it would get worse: a jar full of roaches, a box full of earthworms and once a freshly skinned animal pelt. But eventually he would get tired of the sneaky gifts and then he would come for a visit. Three times in the last six months he had sent her gifts, but Ivy thought ahead. She knew he was coming and each time she had found reason to leave town. A conference for work, a trip with her dad, a short vacation with friends.

She had to stop running. But there was nothing she could do. Most of Darryl’s actions weren’t illegal. It wasn’t against the law to leave strange gifts and she had never actually caught him doing it. He didn’t bring these things himself; he sent others to do his dirty work. Darryl was rich, very rich, and he used his money in the worst way possible.

Her phone rang. Ivy didn’t recognize the number. But she was done running. She pulled her car into an empty parking lot and answered her phone.

“Yes,” she said into the phone. She didn’t let her voice crack or shake. She forced herself to sound stronger than she felt.

The sound of a high pitched child’s laugh filled the phone; it was loud and she pulled it away from her ear. In a few moments the voice changed from the laughter to the sound of a man’s heavy breathing. The breath was ragged and gasping, like he was running from something or maybe doing something else.

“Yes?” Ivy asked again into the phone. She tried to make herself sound bored. She knew Darryl got off on her fear. He liked getting a reaction from her, liked to hear that tinge of fear in her voice. The heavy breathing continued and without another word or another second of waiting Ivy hung up the phone. And then she dialed Blake’s number.

“Hi,” Blake said, he picked up after the first ring.

“Hi,” Ivy said, trying desperately to control the hitch in her voice. She was on the edge of tears, just barely holding herself back.

“Ivy, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She should have known how foolish it was to try and hide something from Blake. He knew her better than she knew herself. “I saw your fight on TV, you won,” she said. “Congratulations.”

“Ivy, where are you? Do you need me to come get you?” He didn’t even take a moment to think about himself. She admitted she had watched the fight, but he didn’t want to revel in his victory; he was thinking about her.

“I...Can I come over?” Ivy said. She knew exactly where the words had come from. She had imagined going home to her empty and dark apartment. She would have turned on all the lights in the house. She would have the TV on full blast to drown out any scary noises. She would be lucky to get an hour’s worth of sleep. She didn’t want to go back there. She didn’t want to be alone.

“Yes, you have my address, right?”

“Yeah, but I thought you might be celebrating or something.”

“No. I’m at the gym, but I’m done here. I’m five minutes from home. I’ll call the building manager and if you get there before me he can let you in. But I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby if I get there first.”

Ivy wanted to cry from relief. Blake was saying exactly what she needed to hear. He was there for her, offering her a safe place where she could rest for the night. She drove straight to his apartment. Her phone rang three more times on the way, but she didn’t answer the unknown number. She pulled into the parking lot of her building and as she was stepping out of her car she saw Blake leave the lobby and hurry towards her.

When he was close enough she forgot all about Darryl. The left side of his face was a dark purple color and it was swollen and painful looking. There was a cut on his left cheek and his nose was bruised.

“You look awful,” Ivy said. The words were out before she had time to think about them.

“Thanks,” Blake said. He took her bag from her and slid his arm around her lower back and guided her into the apartment.

“I just mean your face looks really painful.”

“The doctor gave me some painkillers. It looks worse than it feels.” He led her into the building.

She was relieved to see that there was a swipe key needed to get into the building and to make the elevator go. Together they road the elevator to the sixteenth floor in silence. As it raced up the side of the building she noticed Blake’s hand was still resting on her lower back. She leaned into his embrace and he tightened his grip around her. It felt good to be here with him. It felt safe and for the first time all day, she let herself relax.

Blake unlocked the door to his apartment and guided Ivy inside, locking it again behind them.

Ivy looked around Blake’s apartment, impressed with how nice it was. There was a large kitchen to the left with brand new appliances that led to a large living room and dining room that had a stunning view of the Seattle skyline. It was modern and sleek and clean and Ivy felt safe.

Chapter Thirteen

Ivy looked pale and shaken, like an animal that had just escaped a trap. Blake watched as she looked around the house and he could tell she was impressed. But at that moment he wasn’t worried about Ivy’s opinion on his house; he wanted to know why she was here. Something had spooked her, but she didn’t say what.

“You want a drink or anything?” Blake asked as he dropped her bag next to his kitchen table.

“A drink would be great, thanks,” Ivy said. She was standing near his wall looking at the pictures and newspaper articles his mother had professionally framed for him. They were testaments to his ability in the ring. He had won a lot of fights, enough to make him a champion. He was proud of the work he had done.

“Whiskey? Although I don’t know if I have anything to mix it with.”

“Whiskey’s great, thanks.”

He poured two glasses and brought them to the living room. He sat down on the couch and set the two glasses down on the coffee table, inviting Ivy to come join him. She took one last look at an article from ESPN The Magazine before she sat next to him on the couch. They were a respectable amount of distance apart. They weren’t touching, but they easily could be.

“So, what’s going on?” Blue asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing...” Ivy said with a wave of her hand.

“Really? Then why are you here instead of at home? Is someone bothering you?”

She looked at him and opened her mouth, but nothing came out. He could see that she was debating with herself. She was struggling to keep some secret.

“You can tell me anything, Ivy,” Blake said.

“There’s this ex who’s a real pain. But he hasn’t actually done anything. He just likes to scare me.”

Blake’s felt himself go numb with her words. Who would dare hurt Ivy? All Blake needed was a name and he would personally show this guy the error of his ways.  “Who?” Blake said, one word all he could muster.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about and I don’t want to involve you in this.”

“Just give me a name, Ivy.”

“Blake, no!” Ivy said, putting her drink down and standing up. “This was a bad idea; I should have known as much. I’m gonna go, but thanks for the drink.” She put her half-filled glass back down on the coffee table as she stood to leave.

“Come on, Ivy. Don’t be like this. It’s me, all right? We don’t have to talk about it tonight if you don’t want to,” Blake said. The sight of her leaving filled him with a sudden panic. He would have said anything to keep her there and safe with him.

“I’m just tired of talking about this guy. He’s a real jerk and I feel like I’ve already wasted so much energy on him,” Ivy said, but she was still standing, still halfway to the door.

“Don’t go home,” Blake pleaded. “Stay here, we won’t talk about it until you're ready.” He wasn’t ready for the tears, but they came quickly to her eyes before sliding down her cheeks. Blake stood and walked towards Ivy, gently wiping away her tears and tilting her head so she looked him in the eyes.

She smiled up at him and nodded before walking back to the couch and quickly finishing her drink. “You’ve won a lot of trophies,” Ivy said, indicating all the framed articles on the wall. “I guess you really are good.”

“And you haven't even seen my trophy room yet,” Blake said.

“You have a trophy room?”

Blake nodded and took her by the hand. He led her out of the kitchen and down a short hallway where he opened the first door on his left. He flicked on the light switch and watched as Ivy gasped at the room around her. It was an office, or maybe library would be a better word. Built in shelves lined the walls, but they weren’t filled with books. Instead there were trophies, ribbons, and medals. Gleaming and gold, they reflected the overhead light as Ivy walked towards them to inspect them more closely.

“Wow,” was all she could muster as she looked at the rows and rows of trophies, some taller than she was. “You are good at fighting.”

“Thanks, there are more, but those are less special, so they’re in a storage unit somewhere.”

“I am suitably impressed,” Ivy said as she turned to face him.

“Finally,” he answered.

“Thanks for answering your phone and letting me stay here. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

“I thought you would be out celebrating after your victory.”

“I did for a little while, but that wasn’t a great fight. I almost lost. I barely edged out a victory and all things considered, I probably should have lost.

“Oh,” Ivy said. “How did you almost lose?”

“I was distracted during the fight. I was thinking of something else.”

“What?”

“You.” It was one word, but it was the only word that mattered. Blake didn’t know if getting involved with Ivy was good or bad for his mental game. All he knew was that being without her had almost cost him his last fight, so abstaining from her wasn’t working. He wanted to be with her and, unlike Ivy, he couldn’t see any reason for them to be apart any longer.

“Oh-” Ivy started, but she stopped as Blake took a step towards her. He watched as she stayed where she was as he took another step until they were almost touching. She looked up at him through her long dark lashes and then her hand reached up to his cheek.

With the lightest of touches, she ran her fingers over his bruised skin, wincing in pain for him as she went. He captured her hand in his and brought it to his lips. He kissed her soft and delicate knuckles and then he opened her hand and kissed her palm, closing his eyes as he focused on her soft, warm skin.

She closed the gap between them. With one step their bodies were touching and she pressed her lips chastely against his. But chaste wasn’t enough. Blake kissed her back and felt as her lips opened and her tongue slid out and grazed his. Blood pumped through his veins, gripping her arms and pulling her closer.

He wrapped his hands around her waist until his body was flush against hers. He could feel her breasts against him and he ran his hands up and down the curve of her body. Already he was growing hard for her; this was all it took – a few moments of kissing, his hands on her –  and he was done for.

She was still kissing him. Biting, sucking, and nibbling on his lower lip. Her hands were on his neck, her fingers gentle and delicate around his fresh bruises. She began to writhe her body against his in the subtlest of ways. She pressed herself against him, putting pressure on his cock as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and deepened the kiss.

“You like this room, you should see my bedroom,” Blake said breathlessly as he pulled himself away from her.

“That’s so cliché,” she said, but she was smiling up at him and he took her by the wrist and pulled her to the bedroom.

He slammed the door closed behind him, whipping off his shirt and unbuckling his jeans, letting them sink to the floor. Ivy walked to him and gestured at the bruises that lined his ribs.

“It’s nothing,” he whispered as he spun her around so her back was to him. “They’re just the cost of doing business.” He began to kiss her, biting and nibbling his way down to the nape of her neck as Ivy began to whisper his name to urge him on. He stopped and lovingly stroked her neck with his tongue as she arched her back away from him, pushing her ass onto his already hard cock.

Blake quickly found the hem of her shirt and he pulled it off her. Next he expertly undid the snaps of her bra, sliding the straps down off her shoulders, revealing her beautiful body. He reached up and took her breasts in his hand. She leaned back against him as he massaged her, her pert nipples rising under his attentions. She was grinding against him now and the sensation was almost more than Blake could handle.

He left her breasts and reached down to unsnap the buttons on her jeans, quickly sliding her pants down her lean thighs and holding her steady as she stepped out of them. He spun her around again and kissed her deeply as his right hand slid down her body and snuck underneath the waistband of her simple pink panties.

He stroked her gently with his fingers without entering her, but she pushed against him, urging him to go harder and faster. But he liked making her wait. He continued to tease her as she kissed him and her actions became more desperate. She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer and finally he slipped his fingers inside of her, encountering the wetness that was waiting for him. He slid his finger along her and she shuddered underneath him.

“Blake, yes,” she whispered as she leaned her head against his shoulder and his fingers increased their speed. The hair on her skin was standing up and forming goose bumps under his fingers. Her breath hitched in his ear as she whimpered and begged for more. Her skin was growing hot and cold and back and forth as she yielded to his touch.

She was moving her body with his and the image of beautiful Ivy desperate for him sent currents of electricity pulsing through his body. His free hand reached around and grabbed her ass tightly, pulling her even closer to her as his other hand spun circles.

“Oh, yes, yes,” Ivy whimpered into Blake’s ear as he began to kiss her neck and he felt her entire body tense beneath him and he pressed his fingers a little harder and then she was screaming out his name as her body shook and he held her up as she finished her orgasm.

“I want you,” Blake whispered as he edged her to the bed. “I want to fuck you right here and right now.” He was consumed with his lust for her, with wanting her. He was remembering what it was like to be with Ivy, not some random girl he met at a bar, but this girl, the one who knew him better than anyone.

“Yes,” Ivy whispered back and then they were at the bed and she spun Blake around and sat him down.

Blake pushed himself back until he was in the middle of his bed and he watched with fascination as Ivy crawled towards him. There was something about a naked woman on her hands and knees that drove him wild. Blake held himself back; he wanted to pull her towards him, to dominate her, but he knew that whatever Ivy had planned he would like it.

She slipped his boxers off of him and then settled between his legs. She took his hard cock and brought it to her lips. Everything went hazy for Blake as Ivy took his cock in her mouth and swirled the tip with his tongue. He was speechless; there were no words for what she was doing to him. He closed his eyes and let the sensation of her warm mouth overtake him. He reached out to touch her and he ran his fingers up her back.

He was ready. He was holding himself back. Her tongue was working magic on him, but he wanted more. He wanted to be with her, inside of her. He took her arm and pulled her closer to him, kissing her deeply as he reached into the nightstand and quickly slipped a condom on.

“Come here,” he whispered.

With a wicked grin Ivy straddled herself over him and then she took him in hand and lowered herself down onto him. Blake groaned and held onto her hips as she enveloped him. She began to pump herself up and down on top of him, her movements smooth and even as she brought him to new heights of pleasure.

But he wanted her to feel it, too. He reached between them and began to stroke her again, quickly finding her clit and he concentrating his attention there, spinning quick circles that made her moan his name. He wanted to see her come, to watch as her orgasm overtook her. He held himself back and focused on her, on how his touch affected her.

It didn’t take long.

“Oh, Blake, yes. Just like that,” Ivy murmured as she sped up her thrusts. Blake grabbed her tightly with his free hand as he forced himself to wait for her. “Yes, Blake. Yes!” she cried out as she rode him.

He felt as her orgasm overtook her, taking him with it. Her entire body tensed, her muscles convulsing, screaming his name. That was all it took and Blake couldn't hold back any more. He grabbed her hips and with one long, final, thrust he came, gasping into her.

Chapter Fourteen

Ivy sat on Blake’s couch and watched as the rising sun brightened the city below her. It was one of their rare sunny days in the Northeast with the type of weather that demanded people spend the day outside. Blake brought a cup of coffee and sat down next to her on the couch, wrapping his arm around her. She leaned against his chest and gave a contented sigh as she sipped her drink.

“So when are we going to talk about why you came over?” Blake asked. “Something was wrong on the phone. What was it?”

Ivy didn’t answer. She continued to stare out the window. She half closed her eyes as the scenery out of the window went fuzzy in her vision. She didn’t want to think about Darryl. She didn’t want to worry about him. She felt so safe and comfortable with Blake; she didn’t want to have to deal with his worries or his questions.

“You have thirty-five missed calls all from unknown numbers on your phone. And thirty-five voicemails,” Blake said. His voice was quiet. He wasn’t pressuring her for answers; he was willing to wait for her. She rested her head back onto his shoulder and closed her eyes. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “It’s okay if you can’t tell me,” he whispered, his lips grazing her forehead with each syllable. “You can just let me listen to the voicemails.”

Ivy nodded. This would be the easiest way. It was hard to explain Darryl’s actions to others. The things he did seemed so innocuous as first. A few random phone calls and a few strange gifts. It was hard to describe the fear it instilled in her. It was hard to explain how she never felt safe. She was always expecting Darryl. Every time her phone rang, her heart stopped in fear it would be him. Every time a piece of mail came that she didn’t recognize she would be nauseous as she opened it.

Ivy unlocked her phone and handed it to Blake. She pulled away from him. She didn’t want to hear the voicemails. She knew there would be nothing useful in them. It would just be noises meant to frighten her. She kept the voicemails in a special folder on the cloud. Evidence in the case against Darryl that would never actually happen.

Blake stood up and pressed the phone against his ear. She turned to watch as he listened to the voicemails. He was pacing the floor of his apartment. His face went from confused to to disgusted to angry as he cycled through the calls.

“You don’t need to listen to all of them,” Ivy said quietly. “It’s all just variations on a theme. There’s nothing usable in them. They’re just meant to frighten me.”

“Who sent them?” Blake asked ending the voicemail and putting the phone down on the counter.

“My ex-boyfriend, Darryl Linden. We dated for a few months three years ago. I finally ended things with him, but he didn’t take it well. He kept saying, who do you think you are that you can break up with me? Don’t you know who I am? His family is heir to a logging fortune. They spent a lot of money in local politics and a lot of people owe them a lot of favors.

He knows what he’s doing. He knows how to stay on the right side of the law. The few times he’s done something he’s been arrested for, they’ve just been misdemeanors. He’s been hit with a few fines, but he just pays them and goes home and starts up again. I have a restraining order against him, but none of these are from his number and I can’t prove he did it. He’s a very smart man.”

“There has to be something we can do,” Blake said and Ivy noticed how easily and comfortably he used the word “we.” He didn’t offer to be there for Ivy; he didn’t need to say the words. He just was there for her, however she needed him to be. What had happened to self-centered Blake from high school? She had grown up in the intervening years. Maybe he had, too.

“We have a file on him, but...” She shrugged her shoulders. “Until he actually physically harms me, there’s not much the law can do. I talked to his mother once. We were on the courthouse steps. I was crying and begging her to talk to her son and get him to stop. Do you know what she said to me? She said, My son is a good boy. You did this to him; this is your fault, and then she walked away like it was nothing.”

Blake shook his head in and slammed his hand on the counter. “There has to be something we can do.”

“It’s best to just ignore him. Eventually he’ll get bored and move on to something else.”

“That's not good enough,” Blake said. “I know someone. He’s a private detective.”

“A private detective can’t do anything,” Ivy said with a shake of her head.

“He can follow this creep around. He can get information, prove this jerk is harassing you.”

Ivy didn’t say anything. She and her father had tried everything. They had talked to the police, the FBI, the Federal Marshals, everyone. But Darryl almost never broke the actual law. There was nothing to catch him with, nothing to charge him for.  But it made people feel good to try and help. So she didn’t stop Blake when he made the phone call.

He went into his bedroom and she could hear his muffled voice through the wall. She could hear him offering names and details. She wished he wouldn’t. Fighting Darryl was like trying to fight the wind. It was pointless. All you could do is lean into it and hope it passed over you without destroying anything.

A few minutes later he came back out and sat down on the couch next to Ivy. “What did he-”

“No,” Ivy cut him off. “I don’t want to talk about Darryl anymore. We weren’t even together that long. There’s not even that much to talk about. I don’t want him to ruin today, or last night. I want to forget about him for just a little while.”

“Okay,” Blake said quietly as he took his place next to Ivy on the couch and she, again, leaned into him.

She finished her coffee and put the empty cup on the coffee table. Blake wrapped his arms around her and she knew he still had a million questions about Darryl, but she appreciated that he was letting them be for the moment.

“We have to go back home this weekend,” Ivy said with a sigh. “Do me a favor and let’s not talk about this. Whatever it is. When we go home, can we pretend like nothing happened?”

“I hate pretending,” Blake said. “I don’t want to lie about this. Lying about it make it seems like we're doing something wrong. We’re both adults. We can be together if we want.”

“Our parents have a lot going on right now. This will only add to their stress. I’m not asking you to lie. I’m just asking you to keep it private.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know,” Ivy said. She untangled herself from Blake and turned to look at him. He was wearing a wife beater and a pair of sweatpants and his hand was still on her arm as if he couldn’t bear to be separated from her. “How long are we going to do this?” she asked, gesturing between the two of them, wishing she had a better way to ask that question.

“For as long as we can manage it, I hope,” Blake said with a smile. “Are you seeing anyone else?”

“No,” Ivy admitted. She hadn’t been in a relationship since Darryl. Every time she met someone new, Darryl would pop back up with some new insane act and Ivy never knew how to explain him to anyone. The few men who knew about him always had this suspicion that, somehow, Ivy had forced Darryl to do this. They kept asking her what she had done to set him off and none of them believed her when she told them her only crime was breaking up with him.  “What about you?” Ivy asked.

“I’m not seeing anyone seriously,” Blake said.

“What does that mean?”

“I have a few friends who I spend time with, sometimes,” Blake answered and Ivy rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Friends with benefits?” Ivy asked.

“Exactly.”

“Oh...” She didn’t want him to have anyone else in his life. She didn’t want to have to compete with anyone else for his company. She wanted him to be only with her.

“But if I were with you, I wouldn’t have a reason to call them anymore,” Blake said. He took Ivy’s hand in his own and stroked her knuckles with his thumb.

She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of his hand on hers. Blake had always been good with his hands. “Good,” Ivy said. “I don’t want you to be with anyone else other than me.”

“Good,” Blake answered.

But they still hadn’t defined what they were. Were they a couple in a serious relationship, or were they just looking for a good time? Ivy didn’t know. It had been so easy to fall back into a relationship with Blake. He was so confident and sexy and Ivy finally admitted how much she had missed him over the last few years. But they were going to be stepsiblings soon. Could they really do this? Really be in a relationship with each other? Ivy was worried about what people would say while knowing she really shouldn’t care. Blake was right; they were both adults and they were capable of making this decision. But how would Ivy explain their relationship to an outsider without incurring any judgment?

“I don’t want you to worry about your safety,” Blake whispered as he pulled her close to her. “I don’t want you to worry about this Darryl guy. I won’t let him scare you anymore. He harasses you, I’ll harass him.”

“No, Blake,” Ivy said. “His parents have so much money. If you lay a hand on him they’ll throw you in jail and he’ll walk.”

“Don’t you worry about me,” Blake said. “I’m not the same kid I was in high school. I don’t get into fights anymore unless I’m in the arena and I’m getting paid for it. But I’m not going to stand by and let this guy terrorize you. Let’s see what my private investigator says and we’ll take it from there.”

Ivy sighed and relaxed back on the couch while Blake stood to refill her coffee. Blake would handle it. She had to admit, it would be nice for someone else to handle this. She was tired of it: the constant complaints to the police, trying to explain what Darryl was doing and why it was wrong. Her father did his best to help, but she was terrified of something happening to him. Blake was different; he was young and a fighter. Maybe with him in the ring the fight could finally turn in her favor.

Chapter Fifteen

Ivy was in the passenger seat and every time Blake glanced at her, she was staring out the window. “Did anything else happen with Darryl?” Blake asked.

“No, nothing,” Ivy said, turning to him and giving him a smile.

Blake smiled back and tried not to wince. His face was still sore and swollen from the fight, but it looked better than it had the other day. He turned his attention back to the road and thought back to earlier in the day. That morning, he had spoken with his private investigator, Ron. He had given him Darryl’s name the day before and had done some preliminary research. None of it was good. They met that morning at a diner in the outskirts of Seattle. Over cheap coffee Ron had laid it all out for him.

Darryl Linden was worth about six point seven million dollars. His family's fortune was about seven times that. They were a presence in the Seattle area. His family was on the board for the library, the art museum, the opera. They were everywhere all the time. They had donated to dozens of political campaigns and they had a lot of friends.

Darryl had a long list of arrests: trespassing, vandalism, harassment, but very few actual charges. There were many times when, for reasons not clear, someone chose not to file charges. Not Ivy, though. Every time she could bust him for something, she did. He had been arrested for harassing Ivy, stalking her, and trespassing on her father’s property. But in all of those cases he was let off with community service and a fine. There was no jail time and no real punishment. He didn’t even have a rap sheet. He pled out of all of his charges.

Darryl Linden was a real pretty boy. Blake had looked at half a dozen mug shots of Darryl’s smirking face. He was tall and thin with pronounced cheekbones a long, thin nose, and blond hair he brushed to the side. He never looked scared or worried, just smug.

Blake wanted to punch him. He wanted to ruin that smug prick’s face. He wanted to smash in his nose and split his lip. He wanted to show Darryl what it was like to be afraid. Blake thought it would be a good lesson for the spoiled little rich boy who liked to harass innocent women. He could imagine himself following Darryl, staying just a few feet behind him, making him more and more afraid with every step.

“You look very serious,” Ivy said from the passenger seat.

Blake didn’t want to tell her what he was thinking about. He knew she didn’t want him worrying about Darryl. If Ivy knew he was worried about Darryl, she would start to worry about Blake on top of worrying about Darryl and then he would worry more about Ivy and it would spin out of control. This was what Darryl wanted: to ruin Ivy’s life. He wanted her to never be happy. So Blake smiled at her instead.

“I’m worried about not being able to keep my hands off you,” he said, reaching across the seat and grabbing Ivy’s hand. He rested their hands on her knee and she seemed to lighten up upon their contact.

“Don’t even joke,” Ivy warned. “Whatever this thing we’re doing is, it needs to stay between us. We can’t go upending our parents’ lives when we don’t even know what we’re doing. We’re just trying this out right now, and I’m still not sure about this.”

Blake, again, stayed quiet. Ivy might not have been sure about this, but he was. He had never met anyone like her. No woman had ever made him feel like she did. Ivy didn’t automatically find him charming; she didn’t always laugh at his jokes. Ivy saw through all his bluster to see the boy hiding underneath the man’s clothes. She knew him in a way no other person in the world did.

He didn’t like that she might have that same connection with someone else. Had it been like that with Darryl? Did he love Ivy the same what that Blake did? Did Darryl think about Ivy at the time, did he imagine conversations between the two of them like Blake did? It didn’t matter. It didn’t make Darryl right or Ivy wrong. It made Blake grateful for what he had. It also reminded Blake that he was nothing like Darryl. When he and Ivy had broken up, Blake hadn’t harassed her or stalked her. He had tried to call her, but after enough times, he got the message and left her alone. Why couldn’t Darryl do that?

He didn’t like the idea of Ivy with anyone else. He hated it. She was so beautiful and special and no one that deserved her, not even him. He couldn’t stand the idea of this spoiled little rich boy punishing Ivy and threatening her. He needed to do something, needed to protect Ivy no matter what the price was.

They pulled into Jonas’ driveway and, as if on cue, both parents stepped out onto the front porch and waved at them. Ivy pulled her hand free of Blake’s and waved back. They stepped out of the car and onto the pavement and then, together, walked into the house where dinner was waiting for them.

Blake slept alone in the bed in the guest bedroom. Ivy was so close, but so far away. He yearned for her, wanted her. So why couldn’t he have her? She was less than ten steps away from him. Why should he wait to go to her? He tossed and turned in his bed; he flipped over his pillow, but his eyes were still open and he was still wide-awake.

He sat up as the door creaked open. For a moment, his eyes searched in the darkness trying to make out the shape. It took him a second to realize that right there standing pale in the moonlight was Ivy.

She silently closed the door behind her and hurried over to the bed jumping under the covers with him. “Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” he responded. He felt like he wanted to laugh. How many times had they done this in high school, one of them in the other’s bed, staying silent so their parents wouldn’t hear anything? Without waiting Blake rolled over until he was hovering over Ivy.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered.

“Me neither,” he answered as he leaned over to kiss her.

She kissed him back, her hands running through his hair and tracing figures up and down his back. Her hands reached down and cupped his ass and his erection grew harder from the attention. He quickly pulled off her pajamas and threw them on the floor.

He smiled down at her and began to kiss his way down her stomach. He retreated under the covers as his hands moved between her legs spreading them open. He finally settled between her and he gently kissed her and he heard her give a quiet gasp.

He slipped his tongue between her folds and Ivy’s hand found its way to his hair and she held onto him. He found her clit almost instantly and he began to run his tongue over it in slow, dedicated swirls. Her body writhed beneath him and she whimpered quietly as he grabbed her legs tighter and pulled her closer. Her body was tense and shaking from his attentions and he knew it wouldn’t be long now. He sped up his tongue and he reached up and massaged her breast underneath her shirt as she grabbed his hand.

“Blake!” It came out a ragged whisper and he pressed her clit with his tongue as he felt her body tense and then orgasm and she shook underneath him until she finally stopped. She lay splayed out on the bed, gasping for breath. “I missed that,” Ivy said, her eyes still closed as Blake rested his head on her shoulder.

Blake’s cock was hard and ready and the sight of the naked Ivy lying in bed next to him was driving him to distraction. He reached for his bag and quickly unwrapped a condom, unrolling it over his cock. “Come here,” Blake said.

She was flat on her back and Blake rolled over until he was on top of her. She was wet and ready for him and with one stroke he pushed himself inside of her and Ivy gasped and bit down on his shoulder to avoid making any noise.

“God, I missed you,” he whispered as he began to thrust in and out of her.

She moved with him, her hips rocking underneath. She kept up with his pace as she ran her hands up and down his chest. But he wanted to see her come. He wanted to hear her whisper his name as she came with him still inside of her.

“Touch yourself,” he whispered into his ear. He felt as her hand snaked between the two of them and then he could feel her fingers as they brushed against his cock.

Her breath and hips sped up and she was whispering the word yes over and over again in his ear. “Blake,” she whispered, and he prayed that they were being quiet enough because nothing was going to make them stop now.

He felt as her body again tensed underneath him; he looked her in the eye and watched as her orgasm exploded around her and, with one final thrust, everything went white as he finished and collapsed on top of her. “God, that was good,” Blake said, as he pulled himself off of Ivy.

“Yeah,” she whispered with a laugh. “We are truly fucked.”

Chapter Sixteen

Blake had always been a light sleeper and he woke when he felt the bed move as Ivy sat and then stood up. Her naked body was fuzzy in the darkened room. He could only see the outline of her shape, but he could tell by her actions that she was getting dressed.

“What are you doing?” he whispered. He glanced at the clock and saw it was one in the morning. He had fallen into a deep sleep almost immediately after his last bout with Ivy. He had fallen asleep with her in his arms and he wasn’t ready to let her go yet. He reached out and grazed the back of her thigh with his fingertips before wrapping his hand around her leg and pulling her back to bed.

With a quiet giggle she let herself be drawn back down to the bed and into Blake’s arms. But it seemed she could not be so easily distracted and, after a moment, she withdrew from his arms. She sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing her panties and pajama bottoms while Blake placed small kisses on the small of her back.

“I need to go back to bed,” she whispered.

“Now?”

“Our parents are old,” she replied. “They get up at like five in the morning. If I don’t go back now, we’re gonna get caught.” She stood up and Blake let her go. He looked over at her and she turned around and leaned over him. Ivy stroked his cheek with her palm and and kissed him. “Goodnight.”

“See you in the morning,” he whispered. He watched her close the door behind her and once he could no longer hear her footsteps he closed his heavy eyelids. He turned over to her pillow and took a deep breath. It still smelled like the soft floral perfume she used. She had always refused to tell him the name of it. She said it was a lady’s secret.

He stood up and pulled on his boxer shorts. He found the used condom and brought it to the bathroom, making sure it flushed. It was important to Ivy that they not get caught and he was ready to prove to her that he was different from the guy she had dated in high school. She was right when she said Blake only ever thought of himself back then. But not anymore, now the things that were important to Ivy were going to be important to him, too.

He walked back into the guest bedroom, taking a moment to listen to the house and make sure everyone was still asleep. He needn’t have worried; the house was dark and silent as Blake went back to bed. He was asleep seconds after his heavy head hit the pillows.

***

“What do you think?” Ivy asked as she stepped out of the dressing room. Her dress was a pale purple color. It had a lace collar and lace sleeves that reached down to her wrists. The soft, light fabric of the dress fell all the way down to her feet and floated around her.

“You look lovely, dear,” Ellen said as Ivy twirled in front of them. Her skirt filled out around her as she spun and she couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

“You have good taste,” Ivy said. “I’ve never been in a bridesmaid’s dress this pretty before.” She glanced over at Blake and he saw the look in her eyes, a mix of teasing and open flirtation. The dress was hugging her curves in all the right places.

Blake was dying to feel the soft fabric between his fingers as he imagined pushing it up her legs and over her hips.

“What do you think, Blake?” Ellen asked.

“It looks great,” Blake said, his voice louder than it needed to be. He banished his Ivy fantasy from his mind before it went any further.

“Now it’s your turn,” Ivy said with a smirk.

Blake nodded and walked into his dressing room where his new suit was waiting for him. He dressed quickly, taking a moment to adjust the collar and tie in the mirror, making sure everything was straight and nicely aligned. The suit was a dark, solid, black with a white undershirt and a purple tie that matched Ivy’s dress. It was a good look for him and he took a moment to appreciate his reflection as he fixed his hair before stepping out into the tailor’s shop.

These were their wedding clothes that had been custom tailored and they were all trying them on for the first time. Everyone except for Ellen; her wedding dress was still being finished and Blake and Jonas weren’t allowed to see her in it until the day of.

Blake stepped out of the dressing room and his mother clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying. “You look so handsome,” she said and Blake saw actual tears leaking from her eyes.

“Cut it out, Ma,” Blake said, fidgeting with the lapels on his suit. He was always uncomfortable when she was so open with her emotions. Blake preferred sarcasm and cutting comments to her honesty.

“I’m sorry,” Ellen said, trying to discretely hide her tears.

Ivy was standing next to her, her arms crossed as she smirked over at Blake. He had to restrain himself from kissing that smirk off of her face.  Blake walked over to her and they stood side by side in front of a long mirror. Her purple dress complimented her dark hair and pale skin; they looked like a good couple. Blake smiled at Ivy’s face in the mirror and his heart swelled when she smiled back.

“It’s going to be a lovely wedding,” Ivy said and Blake saw the slightest hint of sadness in her eyes. He knew she was still worried about what people would think about their relationship. He wished she didn’t care; he wished there was some way to explain to her that nothing they were doing was wrong.

Blake drove with his mom in her little red Ford. They were following Ivy and Jonas to a nice restaurant in town for dinner. Glancing at his mom Blake wished he could tell her that he and Ivy had come back together. It would make Ellen so happy, she had always loved Ivy and had in fact taken Ivy’s side after Blake had bailed on prom. It wasn’t normal for him to keep things from her. His entire life it had just been the two of them and his mom had always been there when Blake had needed her. She had managed to get him out of a lot of tight spaces during high school when the police visited the house more than once. But Ivy had asked him not to and he needed to respect that, no matter how hard it was.

They arrived at the restaurant and parked in the lot. A light mist of rain was falling from the grey sky as they walked towards the restaurant. Jonas took Ellen’s arm and guided her to the door and Blake watched them with jealousy and he kept a respectful distance from Ivy.

“So, Blake, I saw your fight the other night. We were worried for you for a second there,” Jonas said.

They were at the nicest restaurant their town had to offer, sitting at a table sipping wine as the sun set behind them. It was a nice Italian restaurant with a large dance floor in the middle surrounded by tables. There was a live band playing slow jazz music as couples dipped and twirled on the dance floor. Their trip to the tailor was done and there was little left for them to do to prepare for the wedding. Now they were relaxing for the rest of the night, enjoying each other’s company.

“Yeah,” Blake said. “I’m training hard this week. I have another fight coming up and I need to step up my game.”

“You still won,” Ellen said. “I don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”

“Pushing myself is part of the job, Ma,” Blake said taking a long sip from his drink. “I always have to keep working and getting better. There’s no sitting still in the MMA. I always need to be stronger and faster than my opponent and he thinks the same thing about his training. It’s a competition and the person who put in the most work wins and I always win.”

He glanced over at Ivy; she was looking in a different direction and taking a delicate sip of her wine. He wondered what it would take for her to finally be on his side about this. Fighting wasn’t just his job, it was his life. He needed to eat healthy and he trained every day. It wasn’t like some office job where he punched a clock to start work and punched it again to leave. Every moment of his life was spent preparing for his next fight. It wasn’t an easy life, but it was exactly the life he wanted.

“I think that’s a fine attitude,” Jonas said. “I believe hard work is its own reward. You should always be trying to improve. That’s how I run my business.”

“Thank you, Jonas,” Blake said, tipping his glass to his future father-in-law.

“Ellen, my dear,” Jonas said, taking Ellen’s hand in his own. “Would you care to join me for a dance?”

“Of course,” Ellen said a smile covering her face. With eyes only for each other they stood up and walked hand in hand to the dance floor.

Blake saw Ivy smile from the corner of his eye and he looked over to her and thought about everything he had missed about her since their messy break up.

“What are you looking at?” Ivy said, a blush creeping up her chest.

“The prettiest girl here,” Blake said.

Ivy shook her head, “You are so cheesy.”

“Hey,” he said and Ivy finally turned and looked at him. “When we get back to Seattle maybe you should stay with me until this whole Darryl thing is figured out.”

Ivy looked down with a sigh and then looked towards the dance floor. He could see her trying to figure out what to say. He wished he could figure out why she fought things like this so hard, why she denied herself happiness.

“I don’t know, Blake,” she said shaking her head. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“You want us to move in together? We just started doing this again. We haven't even figured out what we are yet and you want me to move in.”

“Temporarily,” Blake said.

“There’s no end in sight with this Darryl thing. It might never end.”

“Then you’ll never move out,” Blake said with a shrug. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“What are doing?” Ivy said, turning to fully face him.

“We’re dating, Ivy,” Blake said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s not that complicated. We used to date and now we’re dating again. Did you really want to start from square one? We already know everything about each other; we know how much we care for each other. Why are we pretending that we’re anything but what we are?”

“What about your swinging bachelor life?” Ivy asked. “I don’t want to be in an open relationship or have a friends with benefits things. I don’t do that, I’ve tried it, it’s not for me. If I’m with someone then I’m all in. Are you willing to give up all your side pieces for me?”

“Yes, as long as the same thing goes for you. I want to be with you and only you and I want you to be with me and only me,” Blake said. “We want the same things. We should to be together. Why are you fighting it?”

Ivy didn’t say anything. She looked up at him and then bit her lower lip. Finally, she nodded. “Okay, I’ll stay with you. Thanks,” she said giving him a weak smile.

He reached over and took her hand in his. “You don’t look very happy,” he said and she finally smiled for real. “It’ll be fine and if it’s not we won’t do it anymore. We can still be friends. We can still be civil. But we deserve to give this thing between us a real fighting chance. We’re so good together. It’s not that complicated, Ivy.” Blake said.

She shook her head at him, but she was still smiling as she pulled her hands from his. Their food arrived and Ellen and Jonas were returning to the table. As he cut into his steak Blake glanced up at Ivy and could still see the lingering pink blush on her chest.

***

She didn’t come to his room that night. He debated going to hers, but, in the end, decided against it. She seemed so skittish about their relationship. She was like a deer in headlights, liable to run off in any direction. He needed to give her space. He had already lost her once and he didn’t want to risk losing her again. He rested on his back and stared up at the popcorn ceiling of her guest bedroom.

He was ready for Ivy. He was already getting bored with his parade of friends with benefits. Those women seemed so empty and cold compared to Ivy. Ivy was so sweet and caring and thoughtful and sexy. He had never had anything that compared to the sex he had with her.

Back in high school she had been just as eager as Blake and they would find any and every opportunity to rip off their clothes and explore each other. The backseat of cars, back rows of movie theaters, their bedrooms when their parents were out, a particularly secluded spot in the library, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They were older now, but the passions were still there. Blake didn’t want to be separated from Ivy for even a moment. He wanted to sleep next to her every night. He wanted to be able to reach out and touch her whenever he wanted. He wanted her in bed next to him right now. Down the hall wasn’t good enough anymore.

Chapter Seventeen

Ivy unlocked the many locks on her door as Blake stood over her shoulder. She felt a little self-conscious about the locks, but there was no such thing as being too careful with Darryl. Finally, she pushed open the door to her apartment and then entered the code to her alarm.

“You can never be too cautious,” she said over her shoulder as she turned off the alarm.

“I’m not complaining,” Blake said shaking his shoulder.

Ivy’s apartment was different than his. It was in an old building and it retained its old fashioned feel. The wooden floors creaked a little as they walked and the molding and doors were ornately carved. She loved it, though. She liked its old fashioned feel. It had a sense of history and character; she would be sad to leave it.

Ivy had left all the lights on the other night when she had raced out of there. The apartment was brilliantly lit and she quickly walked around the apartment and turned most of them off. “What do you think?” she asked Blake, who was standing in the small living room with his hands in his pockets.

“It’s like a dollhouse,” he said with a smirk. “It’s very you.”

“Hey, I loved my dollhouse growing up,” Ivy said. It had been a large, pink Victorian house. Her father had made it himself. He intended to leave it in the window of his hardware store as something to draw customers in. But Ivy fell in love with it. She would stay up late at night watching her father carve the the doors and window frames. Finally, when it was finished, Jonas gave it to her instead of taking it to the store.

“I remember,” Blake said.

Ivy walked into her bedroom and pulled her large suitcase out from underneath her bed. Blake walked in and joined her. He looked at the paintings she had on her wall, all things she had picked up at art shows around town. She had a large bed with a white frame and a pristine white sheets. There was a large purple dresser with jewelry and makeup scattered across the top.

Ivy walked over to her dresser and began to pull clean underwear out of the top drawer. Blake smiled as she worked and when she walked back to her suitcase he turned to the drawer and began to rifle through it.

“What are these?” he asked, pulling out a lacy black thong.

“Get out of there,” Ivy said, grabbing her panties out of his hand and throwing them back in the drawer.

“I don’t know why women spend money on lingerie,” Blake said. “Don’t get me wrong, we appreciate it, but all we really want is for you to be naked.”

“Maybe we don’t buy it for you,” Ivy said raising her eyebrow at Blake. She walked back the dresser and grabbed a couple of bras and some socks.

“So sometimes you wear sexy underwear just for the hell of it?” Blake asked.

“Yup,” she said, smirking at him. She was piling her clothes into the suitcase and Blake walked behind her and wrapped his arms her.

He pulled her close and leaned down and softly kissed her. She sighed and leaned into him as he kissed up her neck and then gently bit her earlobe. “You walking around in that lacy thong is a very sexy image,” he whispered. Ivy pressed herself back against him. He kissed the other side of her neck and reached down for her breast and she sighed even louder as his hands went to their delicate work.

“So, I should pack the thong?” she whispered as she reached around and ran her hands through his hair.

“Yes,” he answered. He dropped it into the bag and Ivy pulled herself away from him and went to her closet to pull out work clothes and some clothes that were not for work and folded them into her suitcase.

Blake flopped down on the bed and Ivy went to the bathroom to grab her shampoo and conditioner and the million other cosmetics she secretly liked to collect.

She couldn’t stop smiling as she packed. She loved when Blake held her like that; she loved when she could feel how excited he was. She loved how he always was for her. Anytime she wanted Blake she knew she could have him and that was such a sexy thought. She had a few boyfriends, but none as passionate as Blake.

She was walking back to the bedroom, her arms filled with toiletries when the doorbell rang. Ivy froze in place, but Blake was on his feet and next to her in a second.

“Go in the bedroom,” Blake said, putting his hand on her shoulder and pushing her gently towards the door.

“Blake, no.” Ivy said. “It’s probably nothing. I’ll get it.”

“What if it’s Darryl?” he asked.

“Then I’ll handle it,” she said, she emptied her arms on the bed and turned to walk towards the door, but Blake was blocking the way. “Blake, you can’t fight Darryl. I’m telling you not to. If you do, they will punish you to the full extent of the law. You could get a felony charge. I could never forgive myself if anything like that happened to you. You have to promise me you won’t lay a hand on Darryl.”

“No,” Blake answered. “If he touches you, I’m going to crush his face.”

“He doesn’t touch me,” Ivy said. “That’s his whole game plan. He doesn’t do anything that could actually land him charges. But if you attack him, he will have you arrested and tried. Promise me you’ll leave him alone.”

“I’ll keep my hands to myself,” Blake said with a nod. “But I’m not going to promise anything else. I’m going to do whatever it takes to protect you.”

“Fine,” Ivy said, shaking her head as she pushed past him, but it felt good to know she had Blake in her corner. He was strong and tough and might be formidable enough to deal with Darryl. She walked to the front door and looked through the peephole, but the hallway looked empty. “There’s no one there.”

Blake looked, too, and then he stood in front of Ivy and opened the door. He took a step into the hallway and then he shook his head.

Ivy stepped out with him and saw there was no one. “Maybe it was just a kid playing,” Ivy offered, but Blake didn’t look convinced. She turned to go back inside when she saw it and froze in her tracks. It was a stuffed animal. It had been white elephant at one point in time, but now it was covered in some thick black goop. The eyes had been ripped out and replaced with cheap, plastic Halloween spiders. It looked stretched out, like someone had been pulling at its limbs and it lay limp against the door. There was a nail right to the center of the chest holding it up.

“Go inside,” Blake said. He took out his phone and began to take pictures of the elephant.

Shaking, Ivy walked back into her apartment and tried to quell her nausea. Just a few moments ago she had felt so safe and happy and now she wanted to curl up into a little ball and cry. But she couldn’t do that; she needed to stay strong. Feeling suddenly jumpy and nervous Ivy looked at all the nooks and crannies in her apartment, wondering if any of them were large enough for someone to hide in. She didn’t feel safe in her own home anymore.

Blake managed to pry the elephant off the door and threw it in the trash before washing his hands. “It’s just paint,” he assured her as the water began to run black.

Ivy nodded but she wasn’t sure if that was supposed to make her feel better. Was it because it wasn’t blood? Was she so desperate that she was happy about paint? “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” Ivy said.

“You don’t have to apologize for him,” Blake said as he dried his hands.

She walked over to the door and quickly did all the locks. She hated this; she hated the power the Darryl still had over her. People had been quick to assume she had done something to provoke him. She hadn’t done anything. She had simply ended things with him; she had done it politely over dinner. But now she wished she had done something. Maybe if she deserved the strange gifts and the phone calls, it would somehow make it better. If only she had cheated on him, or said hateful and mean things to him, then there would at least be a reason for this.

She walked back to the bedroom and began to pack quickly. She dumped jeans and shirts into her bag as she hastily wiped a tear from her eye. She hated this. She felt so weak and powerless. It was maddening that he could do this to her and not suffer any repercussions.

“Stop, stop,” Blake said. He came over to her and pulled the pile of clothes out of her arms. “Relax,” he said as a tear slipped from her eye. “I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you. Take your time. We’ll leave when you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” Ivy said, barely managing to get the word out. She began to refold her clothes, calming herself down as she went. She had gotten so used to being on her own. She liked having her own space and answering to no one. When Darryl had become scary, she had been determined to handle it herself. But that hadn’t worked. Darryl was too good. He was scary and intimidating and impossible to stop or catch. There was no way she could take him on her own.

But she could never forgive herself if anything happened to Blake. Darryl fed off of people’s reactions and Blake had never been good at controlling his temper. Darryl would peck at him like a crow until Blake lost it and retaliated against him. Then Darryl would run to the cops and Blake would end up behind bars. Darryl would be free to harass her, and the one person who could protect her would be locked up far away. She needed to do everything she could to keep that from happening. She just wasn’t sure how.

Chapter Eighteen

Ivy had to wake up early for work. Her alarm went off at six-thirty. She hit snooze and Blake turned over on his side to wrap his arms around her. She snuggled back into him and he kissed the back of her neck. It was still dark outside and he fell back asleep almost instantly. Her alarm went off again and this time she roused herself from bed. Blake felt her lean over and press her lips against his cheek.

“I’m gonna shower and get ready for work,” Blake nodded. He filtered in and out of sleep as Ivy moved quietly around him. Finally, he sat up and looked at her.

She was just wearing a robe and she slipped it off her shoulders and fell to the floor.

“I’m glad I woke up,” Blake said, rubbing his eyes.

Ivy smiled at him and slipped into a pair of black panties. Her eyes on Blake, she bent over and began to pull her stockings up her legs and over her knees.

“Don’t start the engine if you're not going to drive the car,” Blake said. His morning wood was only growing as he gazed at her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ivy teased as she stood up and put on a bra. “I’m just getting dressed.”

“Yeah, but now I want you to be undressed,” Blake said with a yawn.

“Sorry, I have to go to work,” Ivy said. She was fully dressed and made up and she walked towards Blake who grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

“See you tonight?” Blake asked.

“Yes,” Ivy answered with a crooked smile as she grabbed her phone and headed out the door.

He had almost forgotten about the stuffed elephant left the other day. He wanted to remind Ivy to be careful, but then he remembered she didn’t need to be reminded. She knew how to be safe.

He followed with his own morning routine and was happy to see that, so far, things with Ivy were fine. In fact, coffee was already brewed so, right now, having her living with him was better than him living alone.

He drove to his gym and parked his car in the lot. His gym in Seattle was nothing like Paulie’s gym. He trained at Boxing World. It was a large, modern gym with a juice bar, weight room, indoor track, pool, and a staff masseuse and physical therapist. Paulie’s was a boxing gym, but after high school Blake had expanded his repertoire beyond boxing. He had started training for MMA fights at this gym in the city. This gym had more of what Blake needed, but he would always be loyal to Paulie.

He swung open the door and swiped his ID card, letting himself in. He walked through the bright and pristine weight lifting room and through and past a large group of cardio machines. He jogged up a set of stairs and opened the door to the fighting training center. His other coach, Jamal, was waiting for him at the ring.

“There you are, welcome back to town, Blake,” Jamal said. “You train with Paulie when you were back home? How is that ancient son of a bitch?”

“He’s good. Just don’t let him hear you calling him old. He sucker punched me for it.”

“So, we gonna talk about that last fight?” Jamal asked. His arms were crossed and he did not look happy.

“I won, didn’t I?” Blake said. He was getting tired of everyone’s comments on the last fight. No one knew what it was like to be in the cage. Blake was the one who had to actually do the fight. He was the one with all the pressure. Things couldn’t always be perfect.

“You almost didn’t win,” Jamal said.

“Something was on my mind, but it’s sorted out now,” Blake said, shrugging his shoulders. His knuckles were taped and he stretched quickly to warm up. He hopped onto the treadmill and Jamal sped it up to six miles an hour. Blake quickly began to jog, feeling his heart begin to pump harder.

“So we need to work on your mental game?” Jamal asked, speeding the treadmill up.

“My mental game is fine. I’m fine,” Blake said. But he wasn’t sure. It was a random woman’s shout that had set him off at the last match. He still didn’t know why it affected him so strongly. He was used to fans yelling at him and people who weren’t his fans screaming horrible words at him. It didn’t bother him, but pumped him up. He liked to hear his fans scream and to hear when his opponent’s fans realized they were about to lose. He lived for it.

“So what happened?” Jamal asked.

Blake stopped the treadmill and turned to Jamal and said. “This woman shouted out, I love you, Blake and it threw me for some reason,” Blake said quietly. “I’ve heard a lot of yelling and screaming, but never that before.”

“So why did it throw you off?” Jamal asked.

“Because it reminded me of the last girl who said that,” Blake said, turning the treadmill back on and beginning to run. “That had never happened before. But I’m ready for it if it happened again.”

“Let’s find out,” Jamal said.

He trained for hours. Cardio followed by weights and then sparring sessions. He focused on his kicks and staying on his feet and on staying focused. It was easier now. Anytime he needed to think about Ivy he knew he would see her back at home in just a few hours. He didn’t need to worry about her.

He felt back in the zone. Anytime he felt himself lagging he thought about that stuffed elephant nailed to the door, black paint dripping down onto Ivy’s floor and he would redouble his efforts. He would get all of his anger for Darryl out here. And he would be ready if Darryl ever tried to start something with him.

This was another big fight coming up. All of his fights were big now. Everyone he went up against was the best. There would be no more easy wins or assured victories. He was at the steepest point of his climb. He was within grasping distance of first place, but getting there would take everything he had.

***

Blake draped a cool towel over his neck. He and Jamal were sitting in the sauna, letting the warm air relax and sooth his tight muscles. He had worked hard all day and he knew he would sleep well that night.

“So, the last girl who told you she loved you, where is she now.”

“At work,” Blake answered. “But in two hours she’ll be back at my place.” He couldn’t stop the smirk that came across his face. Ivy would be back at his place, relaxing on the couch, a vision of perfection.

“Nice,” Jamal said with a nod.

“Yeah, we weren’t together in the last fight,” Blake admitted. “It was getting to me. But things are good now.”

“Careful now,” Jamal said. “Don’t let that girl take root in your head. Your success is on you alone. It’s not tied to anything or any relationship, including her.”

“I know,” Blake said. “It’s not like that with her. She’s good for me. There’s just one thing: she’s got a crazy ex.”

“They always do,” Jamal said with a shake of his head.

“I mean, legit crazy,” Blake said. “He called her thirty-eight times the other night and every voicemail was just some creepy kid laughing or heavy breathing.”

“Whoa, that’s weird.”

“The other day we found a stuffed animal covered in black paint with spiders for eyes nailed to the front door.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know. It’s this spoiled little rich boy. He’s untouchable. He never gets caught and when he does he just buys his way out of it. I need to get rid of him but I don’t know how.”

“You can’t do anything like that. You get arrested and your career is over. They could suspend you,” Jamal warned. “I know it’s hard, but you just have to bring all the rage you have for this guy and channel it into the ring. Take it out on your opponent. Remember the best revenge is a life well lived. The best thing you and your girl can do is be happy together while you bring in endorsement deals and land magazine covers.”

“It’s easier said than done. It’s hard to sit back and do nothing while some guy terrorizes your girl.”

“Guys like that,” Jamal shook his head as if he couldn’t finish the sentence. “I’ve met a few of them in my time. There’s nothing worse than people who start problems and then cry foul when people bring it back to them. This guy has a pounding coming to him, but it can’t come from you, Blake. It’ll ruin your career. You’ll be no good to your girl broke and out of work. Focus on the fight, focus on winning. That’s how you get back at this creep. By winning.”

Blake nodded. He knew Jamal was right. He needed to focus on himself and his relationship with Ivy. That was what mattered. Darryl was just a distraction and Blake was not going to let this guy get to him.

He got a massage and took a shower and he felt tired but good as he drove home. He pulled into the driveway and rode the elevator up to his floor. He opened to door to a delicious smelling apartment. The lights were on, but low and there was music playing quietly in the background.

“I’m home,” Blake called out.

Ivy, wearing a very short pair of shorts and a strappy tank top, stepped out into the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand. “Welcome home,” she said with a smile, taking a sip of her drink.

Chapter Nineteen

Ivy liked to cook. Blake only had a minimal amount of food in his pantry, but she had stopped on the way home to pick up ingredients for dinner: tortellini with a red sauce, Caesar salad and a nice bottle of red wine.

“Pajamas already?” he asked, smiling down at her as she began putting the ingredients for the salad in a big bowl.

“The first thing I do when I get home is change out of work clothes,” she said with a smile.

“Well, my work clothes are gym shorts and sneakers, so comfort isn’t something I have to worry about.”

Ivy raised a wooden spoon with pasta sauce to Blake’s lip and he tasted it. It was salty and robust and much better than whatever take-out he would have normally ordered. One of the benefits of training as hard as he did was the fact that Blake could eat anything and, in fact, needed to eat more than regular people to make up for all the calories he expended.

He reached over Ivy and grabbed plates and cups from the cabinets before stacking them on the counter. It was really just an excuse to stand near her. He put his hands on her hips and nuzzled her neck. She turned her head and kissed him lightly. They plated their food and ate at the kitchen table, a place Blake normally used to store his gym bag.

“This is good,” Blake said.

“Thanks,” Ivy answered. Their food was done quickly and Ivy opened a second bottle of wine as they sat in his darkened apartment, the skyline of Seattle lit up the room with a pale glow.

“So, what do you normally do on your nights?” Ivy asked him as she sipped her dark red wine.

“Normally, I just watch TV and chill out. But you’re here, so it’s not a normal night,” Blake answered.

“So what should we do?” Ivy asked.

“Want to play a game?” Blake offered. He reached behind him and opened a drawer on his side table. He reached in and pulled out a deck of cards. He pulled them out of their container and shuffled them quickly. “Do you know how to play blackjack?”

“Is that the game that goes to twenty-one?” She asked.

“Yes,” he answered barely managing to stifle a scoff.

“Let me guess,” Ivy said. “You’re good at blackjack?”

“I’m not too bad,” Blake answered. In fact, playing cards was a bit of a hobby of his. He frequented tables in Vegas with five hundred dollar buy ins. He liked playing the tables. He liked the thrill of big pots; he was good at cards and good at reading the table. He was also good at recognizing when he was on a losing streak and he always got out before he got in over his head.

He put one card face down in front of Ivy and one in front of himself. He dealt another card to Ivy, a three. He dealt a card to himself, an eight.

“Hit me,” Ivy said, as he unfolded a king in front of her.

He dealt a card to himself, a nine. “You know what makes this more fun?” Blake asked. “Strip blackjack.”

“Really? And how does that work?” Ivy asked. The wine was causing her cheeks to flush and he knew they would be warm to the touch.

“Loser has to lose an article of clothes, first person naked loses.”

“Hit me,” Ivy said, looking him in the eye.

He laid a six down on her cards. “I’ll stay,” he said and she stayed, as well. Blake flipped over Ivy’s card first. She had a king, a three, and a nine. “Bust,” Blake said, smiling at her. He flipped over his own cards, a nine, eight, and a two: nineteen. “I win,” he said, smiling as he gathered his cards.

Ivy gave him a crooked smile and slipped her hands under her shirt. Using some bit of secret female magic, she removed her bra without taking off her shirt, holding it at arm’s length so Blake got a long look in as she finally dropped it onto his floor.

He won the next round and she wiggled out of her short shorts. But then she beat him with an exact hand of twenty-one. He slipped his shirt over his hand threw it to the side. He lost the next round and his gym shorts paid the price. Then he won with seventeen and Ivy took her shirt off and she sat topless on the other side of the table.

Her breasts were perky and her nipples were hard. Blake couldn’t resist and he reached over and stroked her breast with his hand running his thumb over her nipple. They were down to their underwear. Each one only had one piece of clothing left. It all came down to this.

Blake dealt the hands and Ivy stopped when she had sixteen showing and Blake stopped at eighteen. Finally, he flipped over Ivy’s card showing she had a four: twenty. He dealt flipped over his hidden card, he had a ten.

“I win,” Ivy said leaning back in her chair. “So strip,” she said. She settled back and sipped her wine as Blake stood up in front of her and dropped his boxer-briefs exposing his hard penis to the apartment. “Looks good,” Ivy said.

Blake walked over to her and he tilted her head up and he placed a deep kiss on her wine-stained mouth.

She kissed him back eagerly and desperately and he grabbed her arms and pulled her into a standing position and then lifted her up and set her down on the kitchen table. He spread her knees apart and settled between them. Ivy reached around Blake and felt the strong muscles of his back, going farther south to grab his firm ass.

He pushed against her and she could feel the head of his erection pushing against the wet crotch of her panties. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he grabbed a handful of her hair and he pushed her head back to look down into her eyes before he began to kiss her again. His tongue slipped into her mouth and Ivy sighed as Blake's firm hands held her close.

He stopped their kiss and, with a hand to the center of her chest, pushed her onto the table. He leaned down, hovering over her and kissed her breasts and the delicate skin between them. He licked and kissed her nipples while she gasped with an arched back under his attentions.

Ivy wanted him. She wanted him all of time. His strong body and his confident hands were driving her wild. Why had she denied her feelings to Blake? Why had she been fighting this. She wanted to spend the rest of her life splayed out on this table, with Blake kissing her collarbone and making her writhe as he licked the nape of her neck.

His fingers slid over her panties. She was already wet and she almost felt self-conscious about it, but then he was rubbing her through the fabric of her panties and she moved her hips and pressed herself harder against his hand and she forgot to be worried.

“Blake,” Ivy moaned. She reached up and ran her hand down his firm chest. “I want you,” she whispered. Blake groaned and pushed himself against her and she could feel the heft of his erection against her. She wanted him so badly. She wanted to please him and be pleased by him. She was desperate for his touch. Her body ached for him. She raked his skin with her nails and she tried to pull him even closer to her. She never wanted to be separated from him again.

Blake slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of her panties and slipped them easily between her wet folds. Ivy moaned and arched her back as his finger slid over her clit, slowly teasing her. “Do you like that?” Blake asked.

“Yes,” Ivy cried out, balling up her fists. He was teasing her, building her to an orgasm more intense than anything she had ever experienced. She was breathing deeply and her body was writhing underneath him, but, to her dismay, his touch was getting lighter and slower. “Why?” was the only word she could say as his fingers finally stopped, pressing gently on her clit.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he whispered. With that he swept up Ivy in his arms and she gave out a quiet squeal as she wrapped her arm around his neck. A man before had never held her like this; she simultaneously felt safe and strong in his arms. He could have done anything to her and she wouldn’t have stopped him. She trusted him and knew he would never hurt her.

He carried her to the bedroom and stood her in the center of the room. He knelt in front of her and he began to pull her panties down her legs. Ivy shuddered at his touch on her very delicate skin. She felt exposed, standing naked like that in the middle of the room. But then Blake lifted her one leg over his shoulder and she could feel his warm breath against her.

She grabbed onto his head for stability as his tongue slipped into her wet center. She shuddered and dug her hands into his hair as his tongue worked in circles over her clit. He was patient and slow as his hands gripped her thighs and held Ivy in place. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of his rough hands caressing the sensitive skin of her thighs.

In just a few seconds she was right on the edge of orgasm. She was struggling to keep her balance as Blake’s tongue made her legs weak. She arched her back towards him, desperate for his tongue to never stop what it was doing as he licked and sucked on her clit. Her skin was vibrating with energy, she wanted to finish and at the same time she wanted him to never ever stop.

“Blake, I’m so close,” Ivy said, throwing her head back.

And then he stopped. She cried out in frustration and he just smiled and took her roughly by the hands. He led her to the dresser and bent her over it. He kicked her legs a shoulder’s width apart and she heard him slip on a condom. “Are you close?” he whispered into her ear as he began to kiss her neck.

“Yes, so close,” she murmured.

“Good,” he said, taking his position behind her. “Don’t move your hands from where I put them.”

Her hands were flat on the dresser in front of her and she gasped as Blake entered her with one swift motion. She cried out as her body stretched to accommodate him. He put his hand on her lower back and she lowered herself until his cock slid easily in and out of her.

“Fuck, Ivy. You feel so good,” he said as he continued to thrust in and out of her. His cock was gently stroking her clit with every movement.

But it was a teasing and light tough and Ivy wanted more. She wanted Blake’s fingers inside of her, stirring her on. That’s when she understood Blake’s order to keep her hands on the dresser.

Her pleasure was building up slowly as his strokes went deeper inside of her. “Yes!” She cried out throwing her head back as she pushed against him, matching him thrust for thrust. She wanted him. She was desperate to come. Her body was screaming at her to touch herself, but she kept her hands where they were. She trusted Blake.

It was like a wave growing bigger and bigger inside of herself. She passed some invisible barrier and then she couldn’t stop herself; she needed to come; she needed that release.

Blake’s hands were on her hips, urging her to take more of his cock with every push back against him.

“Yes, Blake! Don’t stop. Please don't stop. That feels so good.” He sped up and she cried out loudly as his body rammed into hers.

His cock was grazing her clit and she was grinding against him and then that wave inside of her grew too big and with one final thrust it crashed on top of her and she screamed out his name as she rode him to completion. He moaned her name into her ear and pulled her back hard against her for a few final thrusts and then, they both leaned heavily against the dresser, drained and exhausted.

Chapter Twenty

He hated seeing her leave for work. She dressed quietly, her movements slow and careful as she moved around his bedroom. Their bedroom? There was nothing stopping him from calling it that. Ivy slipped so seamlessly into his life. It was like there was a slot open and waiting for her to fit into. It felt like his life had been a half-finished painting and Ivy had come to fill in and darken the lines and brighten the colors of his life.

She was fully dressed in a black pencil skirt and a white blouse. Her long hair flowed around her shoulders. She put her hand on his shoulder and leaned down to kiss him gently.

“I have to go,” she whispered.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said, raising his hand and caressing her cheek. She closed the door and walked out into the hallway. He heard the clicking of her heels against his hardwood floors as she gathered her things. Blake closed his eyes hoping to get a little bit more sleep before his training began.

He heard the front door open and close again. Ivy was still in the apartment. Her heels were clicking towards him on the floor. As she entered the bedroom Blake sat up and ran his hand through his hair. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice still rough from sleep.

“There’s...” she started, but then her voice wavered and she stuttered as if she didn’t know what to say. Her left hand pointed to the door, while her right hand nervously tugged at the hem of her shirt.

“What?” Blake asked jumping out of bed. He was at her side in a second, his hand on the small of her back. She was shaking, and he could see that she was barely holding back tears.

“The door,” she said with a shake of her head.

Blake walked towards the door. He prayed Darryl was there – Darryl the coward who hid behind mutilated stuffed animals and creepy voicemails. What would Darryl do when he was confronted by a real man, a man who knew how to fight and win? Poor little rich boy, he would be begging for mercy after the first hit.

The door was closed and Blake looked into the peephole to make sure the hallway was clear before he opened the door. His door was painted a pale yellow; it matched all the others in the building. But it didn’t match any more. Blake stepped back to take the whole thing in.

Words were scrawled across the door in bright red paint. It started up top, the words clear and the handwriting almost neat.

She always told me she hated card games.

I hate games

I hate you

I hate her more

Open the door.

Can’t you hear me

Don’t you know I’m out here

The handwriting became messier and sloppy as his eyes descended down the door. He could barely make out the words at the bottom. But in addition to the words written in some sort of order down the door there was other graffiti. These words ran around the edges of the door occasionally overlapping with the red letters.

Bitch, whore, useless, cunt, stupid.

It was like his door was some violent piece of misogynistic artwork. Blake looked up and down the empty hallway, but no one was there. It was just doors. Seemingly endless doors that could be hiding anyone. He wondered how many of his neighbors had seen this horrific masterpiece.

“Yes, I need an officer at 1441 Fairmount Drive, apartment 16A,” Ivy was talking to her cellphone. She had slipped out of her shoes and was now pacing the apartment barefoot as she placed the call with 911. She was running her hands through her hair, tugging on it, pulling at it in her desperations. “The police are on their way,” she said to him and Blake nodded in response.

Blake took a step back inside and slammed the door closed. He walked over to his closet and quickly opened the cabinet that held his gun. He had a license to carry it and he went to the range at least once a month. If Darryl wanted things to get scary, Blake could oblige him. He slipped the loaded gun, with its safety on, into a holster that went under his arm.

“What are you doing?” Ivy answered as Blake walked back out into the living room, pulling on a jacket to cover his gun.

“I’m allowed to have it, Ivy,” he said walking past her and opening the door again. But the hallway was still empty. He waited for a moment hoping Darryl was going to try and come back, but the hallway remained frustratingly empty.

“Blake, statistically you’re more likely to injure yourself or a friend than an intruder,” Ivy said.

“Those statistics include people who don’t know how to use a gun. I know how to use mine. Trust me, it’ll be much more dangerous for Darryl than for me.”

“Your neighbors are going to see the door. I’m so sorry,” Ivy said and Blake heard the hitch in her voice as she spoke. He looked over at her, standing alone in the center of the living room. She was wringing her hands as a tear spilled over her right eye. He closed and locked the door and walked over to her.

Blake pulled her into a deep hug as a sob wracked through her body. He rubbed her back and held her as she tried to get her tears under control. “You don’t ever have to apologize,” he whispered into her ear. “None of this is your fault.”

“Police! We received the call.”

Ivy jumped up at the sudden sound of the loud knock on the door. Blake caressed her arms and then walked over to the door and opened it, seeing two plainclothes police officers. One was a tall woman with curly dark hair and the other a slightly shorter man with glasses.

“I’m Detective Diaz; this is detective Miller. We’re here about the call.”

“Thanks for coming, Maria,” Ivy said as she walked over to the doorway and gave a weak smile at the detectives.

“Writing on the door is a new thing for him,” Maria said shaking her head as her partner pulled out a camera and began snapping pictures of the dark and dangerous notes.

“He could hear us,” Blake growled, shaking his head and crossing his arms. “We were playing a card game last night; he must have been standing at the door listening to us.” He felt disgust pour through his veins. He wanted to meet this creep who hung around outside of doors listening to how normal people spent the night.

Always, he was looking at Ivy. The need to protect her was paramount. She was so sweet and kind and generous and she didn’t deserve this. That wasn’t all that he was worried about, though. Blake was a professional fighter; sizing up people was part of his job. He would never say it to her, but she was so small and weak. She wouldn’t last more than a few seconds in a fight with a fully grown man. She could so easily be overpowered and kidnapped or hurt or worse.

Detective Miller pulled out a fingerprint kit and began to dust the door, letting a soft powdery layer of dust land on the paint-soaked door. He quickly began to dust and pull up the prints. “Most of these will be yours,” Miller explained, “but we’ll search for any that don’t match.”

“He always wears gloves,” Ivy said shaking her head. “We’ve done this before.”

“He might have gotten lazy,” Maria said. “This is the only way we’ll catch him, Ivy. We need to investigate and log everything that happens to you. I know it looks like nothing. But we’re building a case. I’ll find Darryl and question him, find out if his alibi holds up.”

Ivy looked at Detective Diaz. She had dark eyes and looked serious. For a moment their eyes met and he could tell they had the same goal. They both wanted to bring Darryl down. But how were they going to do it? How could they get someone who was always one step ahead of them? Blake glanced back at Ivy in the living room. How was he going to keep her safe?

The police left and Blake called the super who agreed to paint over the deranged words right away. Blake took a few pictures of the words for his own record. As the pictures snapped, he felt his rage building up inside of him. He was frustrated and angry and he had no outlet for it.

“What are you doing?” Blake asked.

Ivy had redone her hair and her makeup. To the average observer, she looked perfectly composed as if nothing had happened, but Blake knew her better than that. Her eyes were tinged red and her hands were still shaking slightly.

“I’m going to work,” Ivy answered as she picked up her briefcase.

“After everything that’s happened?” Blake asked incredulously. “How can you just go to work?”

“I have to,” she said with a shrug. “I can’t stop my life every time he does something like this. I have to live my life. I have to leave the house and go to work and try to ignore him as best I can.”

“You’re going to ignore this?” Blake demanded pointing at the door. “He was spying on us last night. He was right outside the door! What if you had tried to go somewhere, what if you had left the apartment and run into him? He could have hurt you or taken you. He knows where we are.”

“He’s just messing with me. He just wants to get a reaction. We need to ignore him and go about our day as best we can-”

“Ivy,” Blake interrupted, but she wouldn’t be stopped and she continued speaking over him.

“So just stop, Blake. Please. I don’t want to get all upset right now. I don’t want to spend the entire day hiding in this apartment and crying. Can’t you understand that?”

“Yeah,” Blake said. Nodding, forcing himself to calm down. He did understand what she was saying, but she didn’t understand how vulnerable she was. That was the problem. How did she not see it? He needed to keep her safe. He couldn’t protect her if she wasn’t with him. How was he supposed to just let her walk out that door when danger lurked in every corner?

Chapter Twenty-One

“I’m safe at work,” Ivy said, giving Blake a kiss on the cheek. “They have cameras everywhere, and the office will be full today. He won’t mess with me there.”

“You’ll go straight there and back?” Blake asked.

Ivy sighed, having already answered this question three times. She knew Blake was stalling and trying to keep her a little longer. But she wanted to go to work. She had clients she needed to talk to; she had taken a lot of time off already and didn’t want to fall further behind. She wasn’t going to let Darryl stop her from her doing her job. “Yes, straight there and straight back. I won’t pick up any creepy hitchhikers and I won’t go exploring any abandoned houses in the dark,” Ivy said rolling her eyes. “I’ll be safe, don’t worry.”

She left him behind. She refused to be afraid. She walked confidently down the hallway and stepped into the empty elevator. She was determined to forget about Darryl. She checked her car quickly and then drove to work. Her bright and cheery office filled with people cheered her up considerably.

She stopped for coffee and a yogurt in the break room. She stopped to talk to Cindy the receptionist about a new club that had opened in town. She felt normal, all the fear from the morning had dissipated.

There was only one small moment that gave her pause. She thought she saw Darryl. When she had been talking to Cindy, she had seen a man lurking in the parking lot. He was wearing a tan trench coat with a scarf drawn up to his nose. He was far away and she could only see the top of his head, but it looked just like him. She could see his aquiline profile, his long thin nose and his pale skin and hair. Ivy took a step closer, but he turned and walked down the street.

She was sitting down to work when she realized she had forgotten the Johnston file at home. It was on a secured flash drive that was sitting in the pocket of her lighter coat. It had been cold this morning and in all the chaos she had forgotten to transfer the contents of her pockets.

“Hey, are you still at home?” Ivy asked into the phone.

“Yes, are you all right? Is everything okay?” Blake asked.

“Everything’s fine,” Ivy answered, smiling to herself. It was nice to have Blake looking out for her. Even when he was far away he still made her feel safe. “I just left some files I need at your place. They’re on a flash drive in my coat pocket. I have clients coming in about a half an hour. Is there any way you could bring it to me on your way to the gym?”

“Yes, definitely,” Blake answered. “I’m leaving now. I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

“Thanks,” Ivy said. She hung up the phone and looked around at her pristine office. She felt so comfortable and happy here. She had decorated it herself, trying to find that perfect mix between personal and professional. She had worked so hard both in school and internships and she was finally reaping the rewards.

If only Darryl would leave her alone, then everything would finally be perfect. She could see a tantalizing glimpse of her future: her and Blake together, living in Seattle, going to fancy dinners and walks in the park. She was so close to having everything. Of course in that fantasy her father was happily married to someone other than Blake’s mom. She still wasn’t sure how she was going to deal with the whole stepbrother thing.

“Ivy, there’s a Mr. Felton here to see you. He says he just has a quick question about his portfolio.”

Rick Felton was one of her oldest clients. She didn’t have an appointment with him, but it wasn't too strange for a client to just walk in. “Sure, send him back,” Ivy said into the phone. She pulled up his file and straightened her desk while she waited.

But it wasn’t Rick. It was Darryl. Ivy’s stomach dropped and everything seemed to slow down as Darryl approached the glass doors of her office. He was wearing a trench coat and scarf and a horrible smirk. It had been him in the parking lot. She shouldn’t have ignored her instincts. Now he was here, in her office. His eyes fell on hers and her blood ran cold. She was frozen in her seat and unable to move. She couldn’t believe he was actually here. It was like seeing a demon in the daylight; she almost couldn't believe it.

He reached for the handle of the door and Ivy stood up. Should she scream? Should she call the police? She didn’t know what to do and Darryl opened the door and stepped into her office.

“You can’t be near me. I have a restraining order against you.”

“Ah yes. That piece of paper you have,” Darryl said with a roll of his eyes. “What are you going to do? Throw it at me?” he asked, sitting down in one of the two chairs that faced the desk. He sat back and crossed his right ankle over his left knee.

“What do you want?” Ivy asked.

“I want you back, love,” Darryl said with a sick smile. “I miss you. I miss your warm embrace. I miss your smile. I miss making love to you. All I can think about is being with you, being inside of you.”

Ivy glared at him and picked up the phone, but in an instant Darryl leaned forward in his chair and pushed his thumb on the button for the receiver. “I’ll scream,” Ivy said as she glared at him.

“And make a scene at your cushy job?” Darryl asked sitting back down. “I’m not doing anything. We’re just having a lovely chat. If you start screaming now everyone will just think you're crazy. They’ll think you're some silly girl crying wolf just because her ex came for a visit. You’re not in any danger. Why get everyone riled up?”

“What do you want?” Ivy repeated. She glanced up at the glass. Was he right? Should she scream for help? She imagined the police pouring into her office, horrified clients watching from the waiting room. Who would give their money to a firm that regularly had police storming the business? She felt trapped and helpless and worse, she had no idea what was the right thing to do.

“You’re dating a boxer now, is that right?” Darryl asking as he placed his hands in front of his face. He looked at her over his fingers like a movie villain and she was torn between genuine fear and the desire to roll her eyes.

“It’s Mixed Martial Arts,” Ivy answered. She couldn’t help but think about Darryl and Blake meeting and Blake having the opportunity to take out all of his rage on Darryl. With one hit Blake could knock Darryl out and it would be so, so satisfying.

“Ah yes, MMA: boxing’s dumber, uglier, trashier cousin,” Darryl said with a sneer. His face took on a dangerous look as he stared past Ivy, looking right through her. “Honestly, Ivy. How could you degrade yourself with someone like that? I always knew you were easy, but this is low, even for you. I heard your little game last night. You’ve turned into quite the slut since we broke up.”

“You were listening at the door? You’re a creep and I’m not a slut. Blake and I are in a relationship, not that I have to answer to you in any way. What I do is none of your concern, ever. We are not together and we never were. Why are you doing this? You don’t want to be with me; you don’t even like me.”

“You have so much potential, Ivy,” Darryl said. “That’s the thing about you. You’re beautiful, charming, smart, you look excellent on my arm, and with your financial knowledge my wealth would only grow. We could be perfect together Ivy and your inability to see that is baffling to me.” His body tensed and he was shouting every other word. Ivy sat perched on the edge of her chair, ready to reach for the phone at the first sign that he had gone too far. “Being with me is an opportunity for you. You could be rich. You would never have to work again. You could have me. How can you walk away from that? You don’t leave me. That’s not how this works.”

“Darryl, you’re right.” Ivy said in a pleading voice looking into his eyes. “You are a great guy and you deserve better than me. That’s why I ended things. I want you to move on and be happy.” As she looked at him she could see her gambit wasn’t working.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her and he put both of his feet on the ground and rested his hands on his knees. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” He asked. “Besides, it doesn’t matter what you want. All that matters is what I want.”

Ivy looked at him. He refused to give her an exit. He was never going to stop harassing and following her. He wasn’t doing it for any logical reason. He was crazy and he couldn’t be dealt with. How was she going to live her life with Darryl always waiting to ruin it for her?

“Tell me what to do, Darryl. Tell me what you want,” Ivy said. “Do you really want me back?”

“Yes,” he said. “I want you back with me forever.”

“That’s insane,” she said fighting back tears. “That’s like something out a fairytale. You can’t make me be with you. You can’t force me into a relationship.”

Darryl gave her a wild smile and shrugged. She looked at him hopelessly and then she saw something behind him. It was Blake. He was dressed in jeans and a sweater and he was walking back towards her office, the flash drive in his hand. Ivy stood up quickly. She had to stop this. She couldn’t let Blake and Darryl meet here. There was no way she could control either one of them.

Chapter Twenty-Two

He was glad she called. He wanted an excuse to visit her at work and now he had a real reason. He made sure all the windows in his apartment were locked. He gave a picture of Darryl to the doorman and the landlord and told them to immediately call the police if he showed up again.

It was a cold, wet day as Blake zipped up his jacket on the way to the car. There was a light mist in the air. It wasn’t quite cold enough for snow, but it was cold enough to be raw and unpleasant. Blake heated up his car for a moment and then drove directly to Ivy’s office, pulling onto the parking and letting himself into the building. The receptionist was with someone else when he entered, but he knew Ivy was waiting and so he breezed right past her.

As he rounded the corner he could see Ivy talking to someone in her office. But something in her expression and her mannerisms struck him. She was sitting straight up in her chair; she looked tense and a little afraid. The man she was talking to had blond hair, just like Darryl.

Was she with Darryl? Was that psycho in the room with her right then and there? Blake sped up his step and he didn’t pause to knock. He wrenched open her door and took two steps into the office.

It was Darryl, looking up at Blake with a smug smile on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Blake asked.

“Oh, we’re just a couple of old lovers catching up,” Darryl said with a shrug.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Blake said. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” He clenched and unclenched his fist. His vision was blurry at the edges and he wasn’t sure how he was keeping up this air of civility. He felt like a barely controlled animal. Anything could set have set him off at that moment.

“Really? Here at Ivy’s place of work? At the job that she loves. You really want to make a fuss here?” His voice was preening and weak and Blake couldn’t believe this was the guy who left those terrifying messages; the stuffed animal, the messages. He seemed so mincing and delicate in person.

“I don’t care where we are,” Blake said and he watched as a twitch passed over Darryl’s face. Blake could tell his line had spooked the other man. Maybe Darryl wasn’t so untouchable after all. “Were you at my apartment last night?” Blake asked, taking a step towards Darryl. “Were you lurking outside my door, listening to the two of us and writing pathetic messages on my door? Too cowardly to knock and say those things to my face, is that it? You scared, Darryl?”

“Of you?” Darryl asked. “The bastard son of some whorish court recorder? Please, you’re nothing to me. You barely exist.”

“I wonder if you’d say the same thing after I crushed your face with my fist,” Blake answered.

“You’re going to attack me? That’s a felony. Although you do look like you would fit right in at prison.”

“You left threatening messages on my door last night. No jury in the world would convict me of anything if I kicked your ass after you did something as psycho as that.”

“What are you talking about?” Darryl asked. “I was at home with my girlfriend all night last night. We stayed in drank wine and watched television. You can call and ask her yourself if you would like.”

“You’re lying. Who else would have done it?”

“Oh, no one certainly,” Darryl answered. “But that’s not how our legal system works. You have to prove I did it and you can’t. I have a solid alibi and I can promise you, you will not find my fingerprints anywhere on your property.”

Blake’s body was thrumming with electricity. He could feel every inch of his skin and he was painfully aware of how tense he was. He wanted to crush this man. He wanted to punch his face in, break his nose, make him cry. He hated him more than he had ever hated anyone ever before. He had never been so angry or so frustrated.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” Darryl offered, waving his hand towards the empty chair next to him.

“I don’t need a legal reason to kick your ass,” Blake said as he remained standing. “I don’t need to worry about hiding my actions. I don’t care if I get caught. It’ll all be worth it for the opportunity to destroy that smug face of yours.”

“Blake, stop it,” Ivy pleaded, she stood up at her desk and looked at him. “He’s not worth you getting in trouble and going to jail. He’s not worth it.”

“Really? Just a few moments ago you were telling me you didn’t deserve me, isn’t that right?” Darryl asked.

Blake’s head whipped over to Ivy. Not that he believed Darryl, he knew there would be a reason for Ivy to say that. He wanted to know what it was and why she had been bothering to talk to this creep at all.

“Fuck off,” Ivy spit at him. “Leave now. I’m calling the police.” She picked up the phone and quickly dialed Detective Diaz’s phone number.

Darryl rolled his eyes. “Always with the police. When will you realize the futility of that reaction. They can’t do anything to help you and neither can your little brute over here.”

Without even realizing it Blake slipped into a fighting stance. His knees slightly bent his feet and shoulder’s width apart.

“Maria,” Ivy said into the phone, “he’s at my office right now. Okay. Thank you. The police are on their way,” Ivy said looking at Darryl. “You should leave now.”

“But I haven't said what I came here to say,” Darryl said, his eyes flicking between Ivy and Blake.

“We don’t want to hear it,” Blake said. He was struggling to contain himself. He wanted to hit this man. He wanted to hit him again and again and again and he was running out of reasons not to.

“This,” Darryl said, wagging his finger between Blake and Ivy, “is disgusting. The two of you being in a relationship together. Your own stepbrother, Ivy. That’s practically incest. It’s disgusting. You’ve really hit a new low.”

Blake’s blood ran cold. He looked over at Ivy’s pale face and forced himself to calm down. He couldn't get into a fight at her job. He couldn’t ruin her life like this. He could get Darryl later. Not yet, not here, but soon.

“Shut up,” Blake said. “Stop talking. No one cares what you think. So go. Leave now.”

“Or what?” Darryl asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I’ll break every bone in your face,” Blake answered.

“It’s been quite a lot of talk from you, Blake,” Darryl said. “Quite a lot of empty talk from your stepbrother here, Ivy. What are people going to think? How are you going to explain it? Can’t you image the things people will say.”

“No one will care,” Ivy countered. “We’re both adults and we weren't raised together. We were together in high school and now we’re getting back together. It’s not a big deal.”

“You can’t possible be that naïve,” Darryl said. “People are going to care. They’re going to whisper about you and gossip when your back is turned. It’s disgusting. I’m just trying to give you a warning, Ivy. That’s why I’m here. I’m risking jail time to give you a warning. Aren’t I a good friend?”

“You’re crazy,” Ivy said.

“Well at least I’m not dating my stepbrother,” he spit.

“Let’s go outside,” Blake said through clenched teeth. His entire body was numb with rage. It felt like he was floating above his own body. He was waiting for the moment when he could finally land a punch on Darryl.

“No,” Darryl said. “I’d rather wait here for the police.”

He felt like a wolf with a rabbit right in front of him. He wanted to launch himself at the other man. He was barely holding himself back. Every muscle in his body was screaming at him to hit and kick, but he had to stop himself. Why was he stopping himself? Ivy, he was doing it for Ivy. He needed to hold himself back for her.

“Something wrong, Blake?” Darryl asked. “Aren’t you worried about how the press will perceive this direction? Blake, the redneck fighter in love with his stepsister. I’m sure the fans will be flocking towards you. Is she really worth ruining your life? Maybe it would be best if you just left her to me.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Go away,” Blake said. “Leave now, or you’ll regret it.”

Ivy could see how tense he was. He looked like he was about to snap while Darryl lounged in the chair like nothing was happening. It was frustrating and Ivy knew Darryl was acting like that on purpose. He was trying to provoke Blake into hitting him.

“Ignore him, Blake,” she said, coming out from around her desk and walking over to him. She ignored Darryl, pretending he didn’t even exist. She went to Blake and put her hand on his chest and her other around his back; she looked up into his eyes until he finally looked down at her. “He’s trying to provoke you, ignore him,” Ivy said. She slowly pushed him back and away from Darryl. In the last few minutes Blake had inched closer without realizing it. She could feel his heart beating in his chest beneath her hand. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Only Blake could hear her. “I love you and I hate him and we just have to ignore him until he goes away. The police will be here any minute and he’ll be arrested. We can charge him for violating his restraining order. But you can’t touch him.”

She stared up at him as he finally relaxed and looked down at her with a nod. His hands came around her and she closed her eyes and relaxed. The police would be here soon and Darryl would be led away in handcuffs. This was his second offense; he might actually see jail time. Ivy would finally be able to relax. Maybe jail would put some fear into him and he would finally stop harassing her.

“What are you two whispering about over there,” Darryl asked lazily from his chair.

“Why are you still here?” Ivy demanded turning to look at him.

“Because if I leave, Brutus there is going to smash my face in. He said so himself.”

“You don’t have to leave for me to do that,” Blake called over Ivy’s shoulder.

“If I leave, you won’t know why I came. I have something I want to tell you, Ivy dear,” Darryl said. He turned to look at them a smile snaking across his face. He looked dangerous at that moment.

Ivy’s stomach dropped; what was it now? What new horror was he visiting upon her?

“We don’t care,” Blake answered.

“Yes, you do. It involves you, too, Blake,” he said, stretching out the name. “I um...I did something very naughty.” He smiled over at them and waited for a moment before continuing. “I like your apartment, Blake. It has a lovely view. It also has incompetent security. All it took was an empty pizza box to get into your building. I picked the lock in under a minute and then I was inside. I like the layout. It’s classier than I expected.”

“You were in my house?” Blake demanded.

“Oh yes, more than once,” Darryl said with a nod. “I left a camera in your bedroom...”

Ivy felt herself get lightheaded; she leaned heavily against Blake. The other night. They had made love over his dresser. Had Darryl seen that? Did he have it recorded right now?

“That was quite a show you put on the other night.”

Ivy felt him leave her arms but she was numb and powerless to stop him.  He knew what he was doing. He took two confident steps towards Darryl. Ivy recognized the sudden fear in the other man’s eyes as Blake grabbed Darryl by the collar. He reared his fist back and aimed at the center of the other man’s nose and then punched him right in the center of his face. Ivy heard the bone crack and saw Darryl’s head snap back as she screamed at Blake to stop.

Blake’s fist came back bloody as he finally let go of Darryl’s collar and the other man fell back in his chair, blood pooling on his face and dripping down onto the floor. He was crying and holding his face and gasping for breath as the police appeared at the door.

No! Ivy thought to herself as she looked at the scene before her. She had been so close, but then...the video. She couldn’t think; she couldn’t move. The police were racing into the room and they were holding back Blake as if he were the dangerous one.

“Stop!” Ivy cried out and in an instant everyone froze. Blake relaxed and Maria let him go as Miller stood over Darryl confused.

“What is going on in here?” The voice came from the door and Ivy closed her eyes and tried to think of what to say. It was her boss, Mr. Robinson. He was older, in his mid-seventies with white hair, but he was still young and spry and he walked without a cane. “Ivy McCormick, this is a place of business. Who are these men?”

“Arrest him!” Darryl shouted from his seat, pointing at Blake. He was covering his blood-soaked face with his hands as he spoke. “He just attacked me; you saw it. I’m charging him with assault.”

“No,” Ivy said. But it didn’t matter, no one stopped.

Maria looked at her sadly and then took out her handcuffs. “Hands behind your back,” she said. Blake slumped over and put his hands behind his back.

“No,” Ivy said. “This is wrong. Darryl is stalking me; Blake was just trying to protect me. I have a restraining order against him. He’s trying to ruin my life.” She was talking to everyone all at the same time, trying to explain her situation to her boss and the police all in one breath. But it didn’t seem to be working. Blake was being led out of the building and Mr. Robinson was watching him go and shaking his head.

“You’re under arrest, too,” Miller said, hauling Darryl up by his arm and getting out his cuffs.

“What? No!” Darryl cried. “Look at me. I need to go to the hospital. I need medical treatment.” His voice was a weak, high-pitched wail. He sounded pathetic and ill and Ivy hated him at that moment. How dare he complain about being treated poorly. After everything he had done to her, he deserved this.

“You look fine to me,” Miller said. He cuffed Darryl and read him his rights as he escorted him out of the office.

Ivy stood and looked out at the crowd that had grown in the hallway. Everyone was staring at her; her office was a crime scene. She felt frozen in place with no idea what she should say or do.

Maria walked back into the office and closed the door behind her. “Are you all right?”

Ivy nodded, “he said he put a camera in Blake’s apartment.” The words came out suddenly as she remembered them. “He said it was in the bedroom.”

“Let’s go check,” Maria said with a nod.

“What about this?” Ivy said, looking around her office. There was blood on the floor and the chair and her boss was standing outside of the office.

“We’ll call someone to clean up and I’ll have an officer explain the situation to your boss. You can call him later to talk about it, once you’ve calmed down.”

“Thank you,” Ivy said with a sigh. She didn’t know how to talk about Darryl with her boss. She was worried she would sound crazy. An officer came up to talk to Mr. Robinson and Maria took the opportunity to move and, together, she and Ivy hurried down the hall and out the office. Ivy avoided everyone’s eyes as she passed. This was so horrible. What was everyone going to think? What if she lost her job?

There were police cars lined up in front of her office, but none of them contained Blake. Had they taken him away, already? She followed Maria to a grey Ford and hopped in the passenger seat. She had no idea what she was supposed to be doing right now. She wanted to find Blake and make sure he was okay. She needed to go back and explain what had just happened at work. She had to get to Blake’s apartment and find the camera, if it existed.

“What do I do if he has a recording from my house. What if he puts it online?”

Maria glanced over at her and then back at the road with a grimace. There was nothing that could be done. If he did have a sex tape of her and Blake and he uploaded it, it would be out there forever and Ivy knew it.

She paced in the elevator until they reached the sixteenth floor. They had been silent on the ride over and they were silent in the elevator and the silence was starting to drive Ivy crazy. Finally, they reached the apartment and Ivy opened the door. Maria slipped into a pair of gloves and moved into the bedroom.

Ivy followed, careful not to touch anything. She looked around the bedroom and watched as Maria strode over to a bookshelf filled with books. She glanced at it for a second and the she found it. It was like a small, dark insect that had burrowed into their apartment. She pulled the camera out and cut the wires.

It was pointed from the corner and the camera had a view of the entire room. When had he put it there? How much had he seen? Ivy fought back tears as she shook her head and tried to quell her nausea. Blake, she needed to get Blake. There was nothing she could do about the recording, but she could get Blake out of jail. She had to.

“I’ll take this back to the lab and we’ll see what we can pull from it,” Maria said.

“Will you take me to lock up, to wherever they have Blake?” Ivy asked, her voice shaking with every syllable.

“Of course,” Maria answered.

Chapter Twenty-Four

He was back in a police car. Blake couldn’t believe that this was happening again. It had been almost four years since his last arrest. He had promised himself that he would leave that life behind. He knew it was the only real thing that could derail his career, and for years it had worked. Until he had finally broken. Darryl, that prick. He had pushed Blake too far.

Blake settled back in the seat and looked at downtown Seattle as it passed in the window. He could see people crane their necks to try and get a better look at him as he passed. He wondered how long it would take the press to pick this up. He knew there was at least one person at Ivy’s office that was a fan. What if he called in a tip to one of the bigger news sites?

He could imagine the headline on BreakerSpin, the premium sports blog that updated day and night, seven days a week. They were ground zero for scandals and stories. If they found out Blake had been arrested for fighting it would be big news. People loved to hate when MMA fighters got into real fights on the street. It would be all over the news, with talking heads decrying MMA as a modern day violent gladiator match that should be stopped. They would use this as evidence in their crusade to convince people that MMA fighters were nothing more than dangerous thugs.

It could ruin his career. His sponsors could drop him; his fights could be cancelled. It could all be over. He leaned back in his seat. Officer Miller had been kind enough to redo Blake’s cuffs so his hands were locked together in front of him. Even though the other man said nothing, he could tell he understood what Blake had done. They road in silence as he wondered where Darryl was.

He didn’t regret it. He kept replaying the hit over and over in his mind. He focused on the satisfying crunch when his fist broke Darryl’s nose. He had seen the fear and panic in Darryl’s eyes the moment before the hit and that made it all worth it. Now Darryl had some taste of what he had done to Ivy.

He walked with Mike into booking. The room was filled with detectives and officers filing paperwork with clerks and witnesses. It felt all too familiar to Blake. He couldn’t believe he was back here. His handcuffs were attached to an empty desk and Miller muttered a sorry as he walked away.

And older officer winced as he sat down at the desk. He rubbed his knees and looked at the paperwork Miller dropped off with a sigh. He looked up from the paperwork and at Blake’s face and then down again in confusion. “Blake Lambert...” The officer said looking over at him. The man was older and he had a tan and lined face and a thick white mustache and a full head of hair. He looked familiar to Blake, but he couldn’t quite place it. “It’s a shame to see you here, Lambert. You have quite the career as MMA fighter. You think this is good for your career?”

The speech pattern and voice sounded familiar. It sounded like the one his arresting officers from back home. His name had been Williams and he and Paulie had been buddies. Officer Williams had tried to look out for Blake, but he still had to do his job. In that second Blake recognized the older man. “Small world,” Blake said adjusting in his hard seat.

“Assault, Lambert?”

Blake didn’t know what to say. He looked down at the floor. He knew he was wrong, but, at the same time, he didn’t feel bad about it. He reveled in hitting Darryl. It had felt good and he was glad he did it. He was just mad he was being punished for it. “The guy’s been stalking my girl,” Blake said. “He follows her around, takes her picture, he nailed a stuffed animal to her door and wrote threats on mine. I was protecting her.”

“So this guy threw the first punch?” Williams asked.

“No, but he admitted to breaking into my apartment and putting a camera in my bedroom. What was I supposed to do? Nothing?”

“He’s charging you with assault and he says all your claims are lies and he didn’t do any of those things. He said he was talking to Ivy when you came barreling into the room and hit him.”

“And Ivy agrees with that? Her version is going to match up with mine, not his.”

“We haven't spoken to any witnesses yet,” Williams said. “But that doesn’t really matter. That boy came to rattle you, but you shouldn’t have fallen for the bait. In situations like this you need to let cooler heads prevail. You need to think about the long term, not immediate satisfaction. If you had just waited a few more seconds that guy would be arrested and you would be free with your girl.”

Blake sighed and shook his head. He knew Williams was right, but it was too late. “Just do what you have to do. I’m a little too old for a lecture.”

“I’ve kept up with you, Blake. I’ve been proud of your success. I tell everyone I see that you were some young punk I used to arrest and now you were this big success. I know the rules of the MMA; I know how strict it is. This could seriously ruin your career.”

Blake didn’t know how to argue with Williams; the other man was right. There were plenty of times when Blake had been arrested as a kid and had sat next to Williams while they waited for his mom. But Ellen was a court reporter; she knew the DAs and the judges and most of them were willing to look the other way when Blake was hauled in. But he had outgrown that. Now he would have to go to jail, potentially for a long time.

“I love her,” Blake said. “I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”

“And now you’re not with her,” Williams said. “Had you contained yourself, you could be holding her in your arms, but, instead, you’re spending the night here with me.”

“What am I supposed to do when some guy has me cornered like that? He cheats and lies and tricks the system and I can’t do anything. I have to sit around and wait for him to attack her? I can’t do that.”

“But you can’t do this,” Williams said, pointing to the paperwork. “You can’t start physical altercations. He’s going to file charges against you. Are you allowed to participate in a match if you're on parole? I don’t think so. You’re only hurting yourself and her.”

Blake knew he was right. Ivy was scared and alone somewhere, and where was Darryl, was he still locked up somewhere? Or was he out already and terrorizing her? Blake went through the motions, answering the questions Williams asked as they went through the mountains of paperwork needed for an arrest. When he got his phone call, he called his lawyer who cursed for thirty seconds straight before finally saying he was on his way.

A door made of solid iron bars was opened and Blake stepped into the cell and heard the door close behind him. There was a small cot, a sink, and a toilet. It was the same as it ever was. He hated being trapped in here; he promised he would never end up back here and look what had happened. He sat on the floor of the cell, his back against the wall. He wondered how hard it would be to keep this quiet and out of the press. Maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal, maybe there was some way they could sweep it under the rug.

He explained the entire thing to his lawyer, every horrible thing Darryl had done to Ivy and to Blake. His lawyer nodded, but stayed silent as Blake talked.

“That may all be true, but you still assaulted him and he is filing felony assault charges. He claims it was unprovoked and that you’re dangerous. He’s got a broken nose and a fractured cheekbone. You wrecked him pretty good, Blake.”

His lawyer went to go deal with his bail and Blake waited alone in the interrogation room.

A felony charge was not good. It could ruin his career. It could restrict his travel to only the US. It would ruin his reputation. Hopefully his lawyer could get it down to a misdemeanor. Blake hadn’t tried to kill the guy and they did have a history. But they were holding him for forty-eight hours before pressing charges. It was at the request of the victim who needed time to decide what to do. Blake was trapped in limbo, stuck in prison with no way to get out for two entire days.

He spent the night in the county jail. His roomie was a guy named Taylor who had been caught drunk driving. It was his third arrest and he was facing real time. He spent the night facing the wall, leaving Blake alone to stare at the ceiling and wait for the time to pass.

Where was Ivy? Was she at her house, or maybe her dad’s? He hoped she was safe and able to sleep. He didn’t want her to blame herself for his mistake. He tossed and turned late into the night and fell into a fitful sleep somewhere in the early morning hours.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Two days?!” Ivy demanded. “He’s going to be in jail for two days? He shouldn’t be locked up. He shouldn’t have been arrested; he was protecting me.”

“They haven't charged him yet. They have forty hours to either charge him with something or release him. They’re doing this on purpose. They’re dragging their feet. I don’t know why yet,” Detective Diaz said as she slammed her fist down on her desk. “But I’m going to find out. In the meantime, I’m sorry, Ivy, but you just have to wait.”

“This isn’t fair!” Ivy yelled. “What about Darryl? He violated his restraining order. Is he still in jail?”

“Yes,” Detective Diaz said. “We showed the judge all of the stuff you’ve saved from Darryl’s harassment of you: the voicemails, pictures, letters. It was dark stuff, we can’t prove it was him, but it was enough for the judge to deny bail for now. The family is appealing, but he’ll be locked up for a week, at least. What we need is proof that he’s been the one harassing you this whole time. Hopefully a couple of days in a cold cell will show him the error of his ways. He might be ready to talk and make a deal by the end of the week.”

It wasn’t much, but it was all Ivy had. All of this, her office covered in blood, her reputation at work ruined, her job probably lost and, worst of all, Blake in jail. She had given that much just to see Darryl behind bars for a few days. It was almost too cruel to be real. There was nothing she could do. Not for herself and not for Blake.

She drove to her father’s house. She didn’t stop in at Blake’s apartment or her own. She stopped at a gas station and got some coffee and drove through the night. There had been a camera in Blake’s bedroom. Why would Darryl do that? Why would he want to see that? Ivy didn’t understand it. She didn’t know what Darryl wanted and she couldn’t make him stop.

It was eight o’clock at night when Ivy pulled into her father’s driveway. She sat in the car for a moment wondering how she was going to tell her father and Ellen what happened. Where would she even begin? To her right, Ivy could see her father standing on the porch, craning his neck to see who was in his driveway.

He recognized her car and hurried over, pulling his bathrobe tight around him to keep out the cold. “Ivy, are you all right?” Jonas asked, slipping his arm around Ivy as she stepped out of the car. “Where’s Blake?” That was all it took and Ivy was crying in her father’s arms, unable to get a word out.

She took a glass of water, her hand shaking and tried to get herself under control. She was in the living room still wearing her heavy coat and sitting across from a worried looking Ellen and Jonas. “I’m sorry,” Ivy said. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I came home.” She took a deep and began. “There was a fight at my office. Darryl’s been bothering me a lot lately and today he came to work. I called the police, but Blake came before they did. He was there to ask me about an offer he had received for a promotional deal. They ran into each other and they got into a fight and Darryl is pressing charges against Blake. Blake’s been arrested and is in jail awaiting charges.”

She could hear herself lying about why Blake had come to visit her at work. But she wasn't sure why she was lying or to what end. Was her plan to hide her relationship with Blake from her father and Ellen forever? She didn’t have a plan; she was just trying to get through the day. It felt better to keep that part of their relationship private for now. Ellen and Jonas would have enough stress without her and Blake’s relationship on top of it.

“Blake is in jail?” Ellen said, bringing her hand to her mouth. She looked heartbroken. At that moment it seemed she aged ten years in front of Ivy’s eyes. “This could ruin his career,” she shook her head. “When I think of all those times I got the DA back home to drop the charges, I wonder now if that was a mistake. Maybe if Blake had learned his lesson younger it would have stuck.”

“What do you mean, Ellen?” Jonas asked.

“I worked as a court reporter. I knew all the judges and the clerks and lawyers. Anytime Blake would get arrested people would let me know and sometimes, as a favor, they would let him off the hook without any charges. I was so worried about what a record might do in his future prospects. I never really thought about the fact that he wasn't really learning the lesson that getting into fights gets you arrested.”

“This wasn't his fault,” Ivy said firmly. “Darryl was being awful. He was saying horrible things about me and provoking Blake. He threatened me and it was a step too far. Blake was just trying to protect me.”

“He needs to learn to hold his temper,” Jonas said with a shake of his head. “Fighting won’t get him anywhere in those kinds of situations.”

“He’s not being charged for two days. So right now we’re waiting. The only good news is that Darryl is in jail and should stay there for a few days, at least…But I am so tired. I think I need to go to sleep. Thank you for letting me stay here tonight. Goodnight.”

Ivy walked to her childhood bedroom. It was the same as it ever was. She sat down on her little twin bed with her pink sheets and began to undress. She felt tired and wired all at the same time. She was wide awake, but she knew that could change at any minute. She had the feeling that if she put her head down she would fall right asleep.

Ivy turned off the light and climbed into bed. She sunk into the soft mattress and her eyelids drifted closed. Her mind was still racing, but the rest of her was drifting off. It was at that moment Ivy realized something. For the first time in years, she was safe. Darryl was behind bars; he couldn't touch her or threaten her. She was really and truly free of him if only for a moment.

It felt like a great weight was lifted on her chest. She took a deep breath, allowing herself to completely relax, resting muscles that had been tense for what felt like years. It was nice, this sense of freedom. It was intoxicating. She wasn’t ready to give it up; she didn't want to have to go back to checking locks and looking over her shoulder.

But she didn’t want her freedom to come at the cost of Blake’s. She could never really be free when he was behind bars. Ivy closed her heavy eyes and thought about Blake. She missed his body next to hers. She imagined him on some prison cot; she hoped he was warm and sleeping well.

She drove back to Seattle in the morning unsure if she was going to go to her place or Blake’s. Detective Diaz had swept both apartments for cameras and bugs, but they didn't find anything else. She still couldn’t relax in either place. She still felt violated at having her most intimate moment videotaped for the sick thrill of some psycho.

She didn’t need to go to either. She was driving back into town to meet with her boss. She still hadn’t spoken to Blake. He didn’t get any calls during this time. The police contacted his mom to let her know and that was it. Ivy had called the station where he was being held and begged to speak to him, but they refused.

Her boss met her at a café near the office. It was a small place and a favorite with the staff. He was there before Ivy. She walked through the door and saw him at a table by the window, sipping coffee and looking out at the street behind the glass.

Ivy straightened her skirt and walked towards Mr. Robinson. “Hello, sir,” she said as she sat down across from her.

“Ivy, thank you for coming,” he said with a nod.

“Coffee please,” Ivy said to the waitress and then she turned to face her boss. “Mr. Robinson. I want to apologize for the other day. That was so awful and not appropriate. I can tell you that the man who was in my office, the one who got hit, has been stalking me. I have a restraining order against him. I brought the paperwork.” She produced the original order and it sat between the two of them awkwardly. Ivy hoped it would make more of an impact. She hoped that one piece of paper could explain everything.

“And the other man, the one who did the punching?” Mr. Robinson asked gently.

Boyfriend or future stepbrother, which one should Ivy go with. “He’s a friend of mine. Darryl, the man who’s been stalking me, provoked him. He threatened me.”

“Ivy, the police have informed me of your relationship with Darryl. I am sorry he has done this to you and that he’s treated you this way. But you have to see things from my perspective. A man was assaulted at my company. Your office is covered in blood. We’ve had to hire a special cleaning crew for the floor. And I’m sorry to say it, but Darryl Linden has a very famous, rich, and well-connected father.” Mr. Robinson stopped and tugged at his collar and looked around the café before continuing. “Of course, I won’t fire you over this. But I think you should take some time off, paid, of course, and then maybe we could work out some sort of program for you to work from home until this is all sorted.”

Ivy felt herself go numb, but she nodded all the same. She didn’t do the kind of job that could be done from home all the time. She needed to meet her clients and be available to them. Working from home would keep her from doing that. She could see what would happen. Her clients would be reassigned to other agents and she would be phased out.

Ivy held her head high and her tears at bay. She nodded to her boss and thanked him for being understanding. It wasn’t until she had driven five miles and pulled over into an empty parking lot that she let herself cry.

Chapter Twenty-Six

He sat alone in a cell. His cellmate was let out early in the morning. The two men hadn’t said a single word to each other. He left and Blake was stuck alone. That’s the thing about prison: it’s designed to break you. There were no windows in his cell. There were bars along one wall, but his only view just faced a matching grey wall. He had no concept of time. Five minutes could pass, or maybe it was five hours. The only thing breaking up the day was the arrival of his meals.

He did push ups and jumping jacks and squats and somehow it still wasn’t lunch. He was pacing his cell when he heard footsteps coming towards him.

Blake raced to the bars and tried to see who was coming. “Hey,” he said once the guard came into view. “Look, I need to make a phone call, man. I’ve been stuck in here for days. I need to talk to my family.”

“They’ve been notified of your arrest,” the officer said as he continued to walk.

“Yeah, but I need to talk to them. Come on, help me out here. I’m trapped in this cell, no lawyer, no rights. I don’t even get a phone call!?”

But the officer was gone, walking down the hallway at the same pace. He hadn’t even bothered to slow down when he spoke to Blake. In a few seconds he was out of sight and Blake was stuck.

With no other options, Blake walked over to his cot and lay down. He put his hands under his head and stared at the ceiling above him.

The memory came unbidden. It was his second arrest. It was the one that mattered. He had been arrested once before. He was sixteen and he caught Tommy McCallister keying his car. Hunched over the car, key in hand, Tommy had looked up just in time to see Blake’s first. Blake had been arrested for that, but he agreed to not press charges against Tommy for damaging his car and Tommy agreed not to press assault charges.

Blake hadn’t felt guilty for hitting Tommy McCallister. The other guy had been asking for it. Instead of facing Blake like a man he had snuck around like a coward. Blake caught him and made him pay the price. It seemed right and fair to him at the time. He was let go without any charges and that seemed right to him.

His second fight had been different. A kid from the ninth grade bet that he could beat eighth grade Blake. He bet Blake fifty dollars he could do it. A young Blake couldn't pass up that kind of money. The fight started and Blake won fair and square, decking the other kid out in less than two minutes. It was later in the day when the police showed up at the door. He had been sitting down to dinner with his mom. She hadn’t known about the fight. Blake didn’t have a single scratch or bruise on him and he had a crisp fifty in his pocket. His mother cried when the police explained to her what Blake had done. That was the worst part. He had made his mother cry. It broke his heart.

He was handcuffed and taken from his house and put in the back of a squad car. He was alone with the police. Trapped in the backseat. The lights were flashing and the neighbors were all standing in the street trying to see what happened. He knew his mother would be embarrassed and that made it all worse.

“Is this worth it?” Officer Williams asked. He had been younger then, in his thirties probably, but even then he seemed ancient to a fifteen-year-old Blake. “You like being in jail?”

“No, sir,” Blake said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He had been in an actual cell. Officer Williams was on the other side of the bars. It was a bit of a scared straight program, not that Blake knew that at the time.

“Why did you start a fight with that boy?” Officer Williams asked. “I would think your mother taught you better than that.”

“It was a fair fight. He bet me fifty bucks I couldn’t beat him and I did and he called the cops. It’s not fair!”

“It is fair; this is the law. This person has charged you with assaulting him. You could be taken from your home and sent to a juvenile detention center; you could be tried as an adult. Do you want that.”

“No, sir,” Blake had said. He had been sitting on the cot wondering where his life had gone so wrong. He was making promises with himself and with God. If he could just make this go away, then Blake would never break the law again.

“Fifty dollars is not worth the price of your freedom. Look at me, boy,” Williams said and Blake raised his red eyes to the older man. “People are going to provoke you. But you need to think before you act. You can’t just run around doing whatever you want. You’re not a boy anymore; you’re a man. There are repercussions for your actions. Unless you're willing to do the time, don’t do the crime. It’s not that hard, Blake.”

That wasn’t true, though. Blake had, of course, broken all of his promises to himself and God when he got out. That wasn't his last run in with the law. But Officer Williams was wrong. It wasn’t as simple as guilt or innocence; life was more complicated than that. Blake was guilty of hitting Darryl, but he had been provoked. Darryl had threatened Ivy. So he was guilty and now he was doing his time with no idea what was happening to the real bad guy.

He languished for another night and then on the next day he went to his bail hearing. He sat chained to the other prisoners in his matching jumpsuit waiting for his time before the judge.

“Holy shit. Blake Lambert, how did you end up in here?” The man two prisoners down asked as he leaned forward to look at Blake.

Blake closed his eyes. Being recognized was the last thing he needed. “I’m innocent,” Blake said. This wasn't his first time in handcuffs. His case was called and a bailiff uncuffed him and he shuffled into the crowded courtroom. It was just a hearing to determine bail, so the only person he knew was his lawyer and manager, Tim Cook.

“Don’t worry, Blake, I’m gonna get you out of here,” Tim said as he rested his hand on Blake’s shoulder. Blake nodded and stood next to him looking respectfully towards the judge as his case was called.

“Request for bail?” the judge asked as he rifled through Blake’s file.

“Your honor, I request that my client be released up his own recognizance. Mr. Lambert is an upstanding member of the community with no pending charges. He is not a flight risk nor is he a risk to the community.

“Mr. Lambert has two arrests and currently has a career as a cage fighter.” The other attorney was a balding man in an expensive-looking suit. He was looking over papers as he spoke. “Mr. Lambert also has two prior arrests and quite a bit in assets. He also has international connections. We are asking you remand him in custody. I would argue that Mr. Lambert is a flight risk and a threat to the community, despite what his manager might tell you.”

“Hmmm,” the judge said, looking through the paperwork then at Blake.

Blake waited patiently, there was nothing he could do now. His entire life was in the hands of some random judge.

“Bail is set at ten million dollars,” the judge said with a bang of his gavel.

Blake winced. Ten million dollars was a lot of money. Far more than he had.

“You only need ten percent to make bail, so that’s one hundred thousand dollars,” Tim said shrugging his shoulders like it was nothing.

“I don’t have one hundred thousand dollars,” Blake answered. He was frustrated and mad. The cuffs were chafing his wrists and he was freezing in his thin jumpsuit. He wanted to get out of here.

“We’ll have to put your condo up,” Tim said. “I have the paperwork at my office. I can have it faxed over and have you out of here in an hour and as long as you show up for your hearing. You’ll get the house back, all right?”

“Yeah,” Blake answered with a nod.

One more hour. Blake could handle one more hour of this place if it meant he would never have to go back. Hopefully he wouldn’t come back. Hopefully the charges against him wouldn’t stick. Blake looked around at the grey prison walls and hoped that he wasn’t looking at his future.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ivy sat on her bed back in her old apartment. It felt wrong to be at Blake’s place without him there. She still felt like a guest. Besides, Darryl was still in jail. This was as safe as she was going to get. But she was too sad to appreciate it.

She felt listless and useless. She was “on leave” from work and she didn’t want to intrude on her father’s happiness. So now she was alone her apartment. Doing anything felt like a Herculean task. Just getting out of bed seemed to take more energy than she was capable of. She would finally start to move, only to lose her motivation halfway there.

Finally, she lugged herself out of bed and walked over over to her closet. Buried far in the back underneath old quilts and stuffed animals was her evidence against Darryl: her phone logs detailing the long string of unending calls from unknown numbers, the strange and disturbing letters she had received, some blank, others with disgusting notes written in them, stuffed animals with their eyes removed and their stomach’s split open.

It went on and on. Clearly Darryl was obsessed with her. Or obsessed with this. He loved it. She could tell that he took great care in the “gifts” he left her. Nothing was cheap or shoddy. It somehow made his actions even more frightening. He was a smart and dedicated psycho, the worst kind.

Ivy looked down at the box and wondered what to do next. She knew Blake’s attorney would want all of this evidence and she knew the police had already given him a lot of information. But it didn’t seem enough somehow. All of these horrifying presents to her and they were going to be locked away and Darryl given a slap on the wrist. It wasn’t fair.

There was another box on her living room table. This box has spent the last five years hidden in a corner in her father’s attic. She had buried it under piles of old clothes and CDs. But now it was out. It was her Blake Box: all of her memories of her relationship with Blake, all of the little mementos she had kept from their high school romance.

She had almost forgotten about it. She poured herself a glass of wine and sat down at the table, gently opening the flaps on the cardboard box and peering inside. The first thing she pulled out was an old photo of her and Blake. It was taken when they were on a tenth grade field trip to the Space Needle. They were still friends at that point, though Ivy was already crushing on him hard.

His arm was draped over her shoulder. She was staring into the camera, a choker wrapped tightly around her neck with her hair up in some elaborate style. But Blake wasn’t looking at the camera; he was looking at her. She loved this picture. Something about Blake’s eyes forever looking at her, it was always such a romantic idea.

There were movie ticket stubs and little things from strange gas stations. On bored Saturdays they use to just drive in one direction for hours. They would stop in every weird little town they passed – small towns that had a gas station and not much else. It was their odd hobby, driving around the state with no destination in mind. The only thing they had wanted was to spend time with each other.

He had been a great boyfriend. Attentive and sweet and patient. Not that Ivy was shy or chaste. She and Blake had been each other’s first everything. And no one had ever been better than he was. He was a good kisser. If only he would have been less of a trouble maker. But Blake was never willing to let an opportunity to get into a fight pass him by.

Anytime anyone started anything Blake had to finish it. Once they had been playing pool at a dive bar when a biker brushed against Blake’s shoulder as he lined up for a shot. Ivy remembered begging him to just let it go, but Blake refused. He got in the other guy’s face and demanded an apology.

It ended with Ivy running for the car as the owner chased them out of the bar with a gun. She had broken up with him over that. They had gotten back together, of course, and, to Blake’s credit, that never happened again. But there was always something. Some guy who gave him a look he didn’t like, or car that was tailgating him. He would take any opportunity to fight.

He was protective of her. If a man were to wolf whistle at her Blake would have him in a headlock and apologizing in under a second. If anyone ever leered at her, they immediately regretted it when Blake stood directly in front of her. Ivy would never admit it out loud, but she had liked how protective he was. She felt safe with him. She knew that if she were ever in danger all she would need to do was look at Blake and she would know she was safe.

But now an immovable object had met an unstoppable force. Blake would do anything to protect her and Darryl was desperate to destroy her. She was trapped between them. Somehow she had ensnared Blake in all of this and that wasn't fair to him. He deserved better. How was she ever going to forgive herself if Blake lost everything because of her?

Headlines blared about Blake’s arrests and worries from sponsors. Blake’s lawyer told her to ignore the news and not worry about it. He was adamant that she not speak to anyone who called. “People lie,” he warned her. “They call and say they’re Blake’s cousin and they’re worried about him and you give them an update and the next thing you know TMZ is tweeting it out. We need to control this story. Right now we are saying Blake was goaded into fighting someone, but he regrets it and is looking forward to getting back in the gym.”

He regrets it. Those words stung in a way she couldn’t define. He regretted it; did he regret her and being mixed up in her crazy life? If they had stayed apart, none of this would have happened. Her guilt was eating her up inside. She needed some outlet for her energy. She needed something to do. But she had been instructed to do nothing.

Then finally his bail was posted and his lawyer was paying the fee. Ivy stood in the waiting area of the courtroom and tried to keep from fidgeting. The room was filled with men, women, and children, none who looked very happy. They sat in their chairs and stared into space. Mothers hushed their children while an older couple in the corner shared an oxygen tank. Ivy hoped she would never have to be somewhere this depressing again.

She saw him coming. She saw his face in the small square of glass and she stood up to face him. She tried to fix her hair and then realized how dumb it was to care about her looks at the moment.

Blake stepped through the doors, his hands free and, without missing, a beat Ivy wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a long hug. “Are you all right?” she whispered in his ear, refusing to let him go.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answered pulling away from her to look her in they eye. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything else. He looked the same, thankfully. He was still covered in tattoos and there was still the hint of a smirk on his face. She was worried he would come out looking sallow and broken. But he was still the same Blake and he slung his arm around her and looked around the precinct.

Tim strode towards them and cleared his throat before speaking. “There’s some press outside. You are not giving a statement at this time. You will be giving an official statement tomorrow at noon, all right?”

“What’s my statement?” Blake asked.

“I have no idea. We’re gonna do this one thing at a time. You two should separate, for now. Let’s not give the press anything else to feed on,” He pointed at Blake and Ivy and she immediately understood and slipped out from underneath his arm.

“Ivy, you don’t have to do that,” Blake said. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“I know,” Tim said. “But you’re used to the press, the invasion of your privacy, the photographers. Ivy isn’t. Do you really want to throw her into the deep end? Let’s just try and keep as much information private as possible. We have to wait until we have all our ducks in a row before we start talking to the press.”

“It’s fine,” Ivy said. She didn’t want the press in her life. She didn’t want her photo in the supermarket tabloids. She didn’t want anyone digging through her history. There was still the problem of their status. They were almost stepsiblings. What were people going to think when they heard?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Blake stepped out into the street and flashbulbs immediately blinded him. It was nearly night outside. The sky was dark and there were a few stars visible above him. The sidewalk in front of him was filled with about ten different reporters. They stood next to cameras and when he stepped out of the courthouse they descended upon him.

“Blake, what happened?”

“Blake, tell your side of the story.”

“Blake, we’ve heard you’ve been dropped by Adidas and Red Bull. Do you have a comment on that?”

“Blake, the fight’s been cancelled. How are you planning on rebounding from the loss?”

He looked from face to face unsure of what they were saying. How had they found this out so quickly? The news about his sponsors was the worst. They hadn’t even bothered to ask him what happened. They heard assault and arrest and they dropped him like a hot coal.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word Tim was at his elbow. He gave the press a moment to wrap themselves around the two of them. Where was Ivy? Blake looked for her, staring past the faces of the eager paparazzi. He finally found her to the right, standing next to a fountain. She was looking at him with a worried expression on her face. He gave her a smile, but she wasn’t capable of returning it.

His lawyer gave his statement and the paparazzi cleared the way in front of them. He felt like Darth Vader as the crowd parted in front of him and Blake climbed into Tim’s car.

“Ivy came on her own. She’s going to meet us at your place,” Tim said as he put the car in drive and took off down the street.

“Was that right? Did Adidas and Red Bull drop me? Has the fight been cancelled?” Blake demanded.

Tim nodded and made the turns towards Blake’s apartment. “Yes and yes, but I don’t want you to worry, Blake. If we manage this, it will just be a blip on your radar. You’re a fighter. You were goaded into a fight by a spoiled rich boy who lost and then cried to the police about it.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Blake said looking forward. He could see Tim looking at him as he drove.

His manager’s eyes darted between Blake and the road as if he were trying to figure out what Blake was thinking from the expression on his face. “How do you know Ivy? What’s the deal there?” Tim asked.

“Also complicated,” Blake said closing his eyes. He had been serious with Ivy. He didn’t want to lie or hide, but that didn’t make telling the truth easy. It was a crazy story when he told it in his head, but he knew it would sound worse when he said it out loud.

They arrived back at his apartment and there were more reporters and photographers waiting outside of the building. Blake put a serious expression on his face and marched through them, refusing to react to their questions. Ivy was sitting as his table when they walked into his place.

“I just got back,” she explained tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“All right,” Tim said, putting his briefcase down on the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down as he pulled out a pen and a pad paper. “Tell me everything.”

They did. They told him about their rekindled relationship and every horrible and nasty thing Darryl had done. Tim didn’t speak or interrupt. He sat and took notes and listened and nodded.

“So that’s...that,” Blake said glancing at Ivy.  She nodded at him and they both looked at Tim.

He stared at the two of them a look of total confusion on his face. Finally he nodded and the expression on his face changed. It was like they were watching him come up with an idea.

“Blake Lambert defends girlfriend from deranged stalker. That’s the headline right there. We get that to the press tomorrow. We leak Darryl’s name. We send them pictures of the notes he’s sent you. We upload the voicemails online. Within ten minutes Blake will have gone from villain to hero and everyone will be tripping all over themselves to apologize to you.”

“But we can’t prove Darryl did any of that stuff. He’s good at covering his tracks.”

“So,” Tim said with a shrug of his shoulders. “This isn’t a court of law; this is the court of public opinion. It’s much easier to manipulate.”

“His parents are rich and well-connected,” Ivy said.

“Even better. Some spoiled old money brat harassing a hard-working woman. The narrative writes itself. But for this to work, we would need you on our team, Ivy. You would need to give interviews and answer questions. Are you willing to do that?”

“What are you going to tell people about me and Blake?” Ivy asked, glancing up at Blake.

“You are two high school sweethearts whose parents are getting married. It’s not that strange. You guys came from a small town. It will be a small aside at the end of the article. If we get ahead of this, we control the narrative. We can control what people are saying.”

Blake looked at Ivy. He knew that most of what Tim was saying was correct. But he couldn’t control the entire narrative. If it were that easy to control, no politician would ever have a scandal. But Blake didn’t care about the fact that they were almost stepsiblings and he couldn’t understand why Ivy did. They were both adults who wanted to do this; why couldn’t she see that?

“This might be what does Darryl in,” Blake offered. “If we can’t get him in court we can at least let people know what he’s done.”

“What if his parents sue us for defamation?” Ivy asked.

“I’m on it. I’m a lawyer. I know how to stay on this side of the law,” Tim said.

Blake looked at Ivy. Internally he was begging her to say yes. But on the outside he stayed calm. He knew she needed to make this decision herself. He just hoped she chose to be strong and fight instead of running away.

“Okay,” Ivy said with a nod. “I’m in. Most of the Darryl stuff is with my lawyer now.”

“I’ll call in the morning and pick it up,” Tim said. “I’m going to start drafting your statement and getting into contact with reporters. This is a big story, Blake. I want the two of you to stay here today. Don’t answer your phone, don’t answer the door, don’t go anywhere. Just stay here.”

Blake nodded and Ivy did the same. They watched Tim leave and then it was just the two of them, alone. Ivy turned in her seat to look at him. But she didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Everything had exploded in the worst possible way and now they had to deal with the fallout.

“What’s prison like?” Ivy asked as her thumb traced a scratch on the surface of the table.

“Boring,” Blake answered with a rueful smile. “I mostly thought about you.” She looked up at him with a weak smile and opened her mouth to speak, but Blake interrupted her. “Don’t apologize again. You didn’t do anything wrong, you don’t have anything to apologize for.”

She nodded and then stood up and walked over to him. “I thought about you, too,” she said. She leaned forward and then put her leg over his, settling on his lap, straddling him.

Blake smiled at the woman on top of him. He had missed her. He pulled her close for a hug and buried his face in her chest as she ran her hands though his hair. This was what made it all worth it. He wanted to be with Ivy, and moments like this made punching out Darryl worth it.

“Come to bed,” Ivy whispered and Blake nodded. She stood up and he followed. When they were standing he leaned down and kissed her deeply before swooping her up into his arms and taking her to the bedroom.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Blake lay Ivy down gently on the bed. She sat up and drew her knees in. The last time she and Blake had been in here someone had videotaped it. What was Darryl going to do with that footage? Was he going to blackmail her for it? Did she have anything to be embarrassed about?

“Stop thinking,” Blake said. “I can see it on your face. You’re worrying yourself about something.”

“About the video,” Ivy admitted quietly.

Blake sighed and nodded. “There’s nothing we can do about that,” he said. He took his shirt off and then stepped out of his jeans. Standing only in his boxers Ivy could see the clean lines of his muscles as they ran up his stomach and down his arms. He was like some statue of a Greek god that had come to life. “Come and take a shower with me,” he said, nodding towards the bathroom.

Ivy smiled and stood up. She slid out of her clothes and followed him to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and steam quickly began to fill the room. Ivy walked towards Blake and pressed herself against him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly and they stood like that for a moment, just holding each other.

She looked up at Blake and he leaned down to kiss her. She slid her tongue into his mouth and felt his against hers. She could feel his erection pushing against her stomach as he held her tight and kissed her deeply. His warm hands felt safe and comforting on her back and Ivy was starting to worry that she couldn’t live without his touch.

He stepped into the stream of water and held his hand out to Ivy. She took it and stepped into the tub, feeling the hot water as it hit her head and cascaded down her back. The heat and the pressure from the water massaged her tense muscles and she began to relax.

Darryl was still in jail. The thought occurred out of nowhere. But it was right. Darryl was still behind bars for violating her restraining order. Both she and Blake were pressing charges against him. She looked at him and kissed him with abandon. She broke away and then began to kiss his neck, lapping up the warm water from his skin with her tongue.

Blake sighed and Ivy reached down between them and felt his hard erection in her hand. She began to move her hand up and down in slow teasing motions and Blake moaned and leaned into her.

“God, I missed you,” he whispered into her ear as he leaned over and kissed her neck.

Ivy felt his hands as they came up to her breasts and he began to gently massage them. The mix of the warm water and his hands was almost more than she could take. She moaned and leaned against him and then looked up and kissed him deeply as his hands continued to work their magic.

“I want you,” Blake whispered into her ear and Ivy’s whole body shuddered at the words.

She wanted him, too; she wanted him desperately. Ivy took a bar of soap and began to lather it up in her hands. She traced her sudsy hands along his body, hoping to wash away the memories of the last few days. She cleaned him and helped him rinse off and then it was her turn. Blake’s warm and wet hands spread over her body, running along her legs, her back, her breasts and then between her thighs.

His fingers slid over her and Ivy closed her eyes as her body reacted to his touch. Her heart began to beat faster and even in the hot shower she felt a rush of heat push through her. His fingers were gentle and slow and Blake was watching her as he touched her, gauging her reaction.

He turned the shower off and grabbed a towel, wrapping Ivy up in warm cotton. He took a towel and wrapped it around his waist and together they walked back to bed. Blake kissed the back of Ivy’s neck as she walked and her feet began to stumble beneath her. Her body was aching for his touch. She was so ready for him.

She dropped her towel and slipped on the bed. Blake followed her and he gently pressed down on her chest until she was flat on her back staring at the ceiling. He kissed the tops of her thighs, making her jump from his sudden touch. But then she relaxed as his tongue slipped inside of her and she arched her back and buried her hands in his hair. His slow and teasing tongue worked circles in her as Ivy writhed beneath him.

His every delicate touch felt almost too good and she never wanted him to stop. She could feel her orgasm building up inside of her. With every touch from Blake she was getting closer to the finish she so desperately needed.

“Yes! Blake! Yes!” Ivy cried. She wondered if he was going to stop again. If he was going to bring her just to the edge of pleasure and then hold her back. But he didn’t slow down as Ivy got louder. She cried out his name and her breathing became tortured gasps as she felt her orgasm explode around her and she screamed out his name as her body tensed and then relaxed.

Blake smiled up at her and he kissed both of her breasts as Ivy came back down to loud. “Did you like that?”

“Yes,” she answered, but she wasn’t done yet. Blake lay back and Ivy climbed up on top of him.

He reached for the dresser next to his bed and pulled out a condom. Ivy quickly unwrapped it and unrolled it over his hard cock. Blake turned her over on her side so he was laying down behind her. He lifted her left leg up and she felt the head of his penis as it slipped into her.

She cried out as her body stretched to accommodate him. And then he began to move and she could feel every inch of him as he thrust in and out of her. She was on her back with her legs up and Blake was on his side, his cock buried inside of her. Blake’s hands were on her breasts massaging her and pinching her nipples as she cried out for more. The angle was perfect and with every thrust his penis caressed her g spot and she pushed back against him, pushing him farther inside of her. It felt so good to be with him. He felt so right inside of her.

“Yes, Yes!” Ivy cried out as he thrust into her and he sped up as she moaned and grabbed his legs and pushed back against him. “I’m so close,” Ivy whispered as pleasure poured through her body. She grabbed onto Blake and held him close as one final thrust pushed her over the edge and she came screaming his name over and over again.

They collapsed in a pile in the bed. Ivy’s heart began to slow down as the buzzing in her veins stopped. Not that she would ever admit it out loud, but she could see why people had the desire to film themselves having sex. It was so passionate and it felt so good; why not preserve it for posterity. If only she and Blake had the tape instead of Darryl.

She fell asleep without realizing it. Resting in Blake’s arms feeling more comfortable and relaxed than she had in a long time.

She woke up at six-thirty to Blake’s alarm blaring. They were spooning and she had been in a deep sleep. Her eyes popped open as Blake groaned and hit the off button.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s set automatically. Go back to sleep.” He wrapped his arm around her again and she felt his warm breath on her neck as he settled down next to her. He was breathing deeply within seconds, but now that she was awake Ivy realized how badly she had to pee.

As quietly as possible she slipped out of Blake’s arms and went to the bathroom. She came out and slipped into a pair of panties and one of Blake’s t-shirt. She wandered into the living room and dug her phone of her purse. She glanced down at it and saw that she had a few missed calls and texts from unknown numbers, but she ignored those.

She checked her email, wondering if there was anything from work. But instead of clients there was an email with the subject line: To The Moon And Back. It was the same phrase from her card. It had to be from Darryl. She debated opening it, but her curiosity was peaked. Darryl had never actually suffered a punishment before. But he had spent the last few days in jail and she needed to know if it had changed him.

You think you can mess with me I will ruin you and I will ruin him just for the hell of it. End it with him or I will make sure he never sees daylight again.

Ivy looked down at the message and then at the apartment around her. Of course he was still contacting her from prison. Did she really think that prison could hold him back? Darryl loved nothing more that stalking her and ruining her life; why would he stop his favorite hobby just because he was in jail.

Chapter Thirty

Blake woke up alone. He reached over to the other side of the bed, but Ivy was gone. He could see her soft body in his mind’s eyes, the curve of her hips and breasts, her legs and arms that only a few hours ago were wrapped around him.

He pulled his head up and frowned to the empty room. Where was she? He stood up and pulled on a pair of boxers and walked out into the living room. Ivy was standing there fully dressed staring out the window.

“Hey, it’s still early. Come back to bed,” Blake said.

“I think I should go,” Ivy said turning around to face him. She wasn’t crying. She looked at him, her face void of any emotion.

Blake looked at her in confusion, “go where?”

“Home. I don’t think we should do this anymore.” Blake started to speak, but now she was the one talking over him. “I know what you’re going to say Blake and part of me agrees with you. But this relationship has been rocky from the start. Our parents are getting married and we’re going to be stepsiblings. Now you’ve been arrested and you can’t fight. This feels like the universe is giving signs that you and I shouldn’t be together.”

What was she saying? Where was this coming from? Blake didn’t know what to do or what to say. “Is that how this looks to you? What about all the good stuff, Ivy? What about the good memories we’ve made in the last few days? Do those not count anymore? Are they not part of the universe’s plan?” Ivy shook her head. She grabbed her purse from a chair and moved towards the door, but Blake blocked her. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Ivy whispered looking up at him. Her jaw was shaking a little and he could feel the tears she was holding back. But she was determined to stay strong. “My job might be over; this is just too much. I’m sorry. I’ll help you with the interviews and stuff tomorrow, but we’ll have to tell them that we’re just friends. Blake, I’m sorry, it’s just...after what happened I don’t see how we can be together. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I got you into this much trouble.”

She tried to move past her but he just took the same step and continued to block her. He needed to keep her here in this apartment. He needed to find out where this was coming from. Had something happened? Was it possible she was really ending this without a reason?

“Please let me leave, Blake,” Ivy said. She wasn’t looking at him. What was he going to do, keep her there against her will? If she wanted to leave there was nothing he could do to keep her.

He stepped away from her and said, “Ivy, don’t go. Tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you.”

“You helping me is how we got into this whole mess,” Ivy said with a smile. She looked over her shoulder at him. She took a deep breath and then said, “I’ll talk to you later, Blake.” The door opened and closed and she was gone.

Blake was stunned. He couldn’t move or think. What had just happened? Had he really just lost everything? Just like that.

He loved Ivy, so how could he let her walk out the door? He should have fought for her, should have begged her to stay. Would that have helped, he had no idea. But it might have helped. He stared at the door as if he expected her to walk through it any minute.

Finally, he moved. His legs took him over to the couch where he slumped down and put his head in his hands. He had lost everything: his sponsors, the chance to fight, the woman of his dreams. With a punch to a rich prick’s face Blake’s whole life had come apart and he had no idea how to put it back together.

He had left his phone on the coffee table the night before and it buzzed as he sat on his couch. Blake sighed, and reached for the phone hoping it was Ivy telling him she had a momentary episode of insanity, but she was feel much better and was on her way over. But it wasn’t that. It was a text message from Tim.

“Blake, is this you?”

Blake opened the message and saw that there was a short video file attached. He pressed pay and watched as the grainy footage came to life. It was taken with night vision so everything was tinged with green. It took him a second to realize he was looking at his own bedroom.

Blake’s heart stopped in his chest and cold flooded his body. The sounds of a woman in pleasure filled his empty apartment. But it wasn’t any woman’s voice. It was Ivy’s. Blake looked in horror at the screen as he watched the events of the other night, the result of his and Ivy’s card game.

He was fucking her against his dresser and she was screaming the word yes.

“Where did you get that?” Blake demanded the moment Tim answered the phone.

“It was sent to me about twenty minutes ago,” Tim said. “It’s been posted online to PornHub. Is it you in the video? Is there any chance it’s a lookalike?”

“It’s me, but I didn’t take it.”

“Darryl did,” Tim finished. “Listen, Blake, I’ll call PornHub and get them to take it down, but that’s a stopgap measure at best. It’s online now. People have a copy; they’ve saved it to their computers. There’s no taking it back.”

“How many people have seen it?” Blake asked.

“As of last count the original has over two hundred thousand views. And five stars, if that’s any consolation.”

“Two hundred thousand views?!” Blake demanded.

“And five stars.”

“Get it down, Tim. I didn't consent to it and neither did Ivy. I want that made very clear. But don’t say Ivy! I don’t want people knowing it’s her.”

“I don’t think it will take people long to figure out who the other person is.”

“Just deal with it,” Blake said. He hung up the phone and tossed it onto his couch.

How was he going to tell Ivy? How was he going to break the news that their most intimate moment together had been broadcasted online for anyone to see?

Chapter Thirty-One

Ivy dropped her purse onto her couch and slumped down next to it. She put her feet up on her coffee table and stared off mindlessly into space. She had no idea what to do with herself. But she wanted to do something. Darryl had been chipping away at her life for too long and she was ready to do something about it. He had started with little things, strange phone calls and gifts and Ivy thought she could handle it. It got worse, vague threats and personal visits to her apartment, and she thought she could handle that. But the list of things he was capable of just kept growing and she wasn’t sure she could handle it anymore. He had involved Blake. That was the breaking point. It wasn’t just her and Darryl anymore; Blake was stuck in this mess now, too. She was like that little boy with his finger in the dyke. Darryl was constantly creating new holes and she was running out of ways to stop the coming flood.

Ivy put her head in her hands and sighed. She didn’t know if leaving Blake’s had been the right move or not, but it was important for her to try to minimize the damage Darryl did to the people she loved. She didn’t know any other way to protect him other than leaving him. It had been Darryl’s order, but Ivy’s decision. She wasn’t happy, though, and she wasn’t sure if it had been the right thing to do.

There was a knock on her door. Ivy sat up straight and looked over towards the white solid wood of her door. Darryl was still in jail; she was sure of that. But she knew he didn’t work alone. He had friends who provided alibis and other friends who sometimes did his dirty work for him. They weren't friends, really; Darryl obviously had no friends. They were people he paid. So it might be one of his employees at the door.

Ivy took a deep breath and walked the short distance between her couch and her door, her treading quietly over the hardwood floors. She looked through the peephole. But it wasn’t Darryl standing there. It was her father. Confused and wondering if she should have been expecting him, Ivy quickly opened the door, but the face that greeted her wasn’t a pleasant one.

Jonas looked haggard. His thin hair was messy on his head and there was dark, heavy bags under his eyes. His clothes were wrinkled and the lines on his older face seemed to stand out more than they usually did. But what struck Ivy the most was that he looked unhappy. Normally anytime she saw her father he had a smile spread from ear to ear. He was always so happy just seeing her, but this was different. He looked miserable.

“Dad,” Ivy said. “Is everything okay? Where’s Ellen?”

“Ellen is with Blake,” Jonas said. Ivy moved aside to let him in. Jonas moved slowly and delicately, as if the act of walking was painful. He was wearing a scarf and he slipped it off from around his neck and then sat down on the couch still in his coat. He didn’t say anything else. He just sat there and stared off into space, the same thing Ivy had been doing only moments before.

“Is everything all right?” Ivy asked as she closed and locked the door and walked over to the couch to join him. She sat down next to him leaving a space between them. Something about her father was off and wrong. She had never seen him like this before. Normally he was jovial and sweet and always smiling. But, now, it was as if there was a heavy cloud hanging over his head.

“Blake’s arrest has been all over the news. Everyone is waiting for his statement. I saw the footage of the two of you leaving the courthouse.” His voice was low and even and he refused to look at Ivy. “Some reports are suggesting that you and he have a romantic relationship. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Ivy said. In the instant before she spoke that word she went through about a million possibilities of what she could say. She could have lied. She could have tried to buy herself some time with half-truths and empty words. But, the truth was, she was in a relationship with Blake. She loved him, more than she had ever loved anyone else. She knew in that instant that if she couldn’t be with Blake, she would never be with anyone. She would rather be alone.

“But now that Ellen and I are engaged the two of you are calling it off, right?” Jonas asked.

Ivy didn’t say anything. She stood up and slipped her hands into the pocket of her jeans and looked at the floor as she debated what to say. “We...it actually started recently and we wanted to see where it could go. You know how close he and I were back in high school.”

“Yes, back in high school when you were both kids, but you’re older now. I thought you had learned your lesson about Blake. He broke your heart in high school, if you remember.”

“I do remember. But he’s different now and so am I, and, at the same time, we’re exactly the same. We’re really good together, Dad. There’s no other way I can explain it.”

“Ellen and I are getting married.”

“I know.”

“That will make you and Blake stepsiblings.”

“I know,” Ivy said. Her voice was barely above a whisper and even though she and Jonas were in the same room and having a conversation, neither could look at the other.

“And you’re okay with that?” Jonas demanded and Ivy could hear the tinge of disgust in his voice.

“I wish it could be different. But it is what it is. I don’t want you and Ellen to break up-”

“So you and Blake need to end it,” Jonas said interrupting her. “Ellen and I want to spend the rest of our lives with each other. We are in a serious, committed relationship. You and Blake are just fooling around. I’m asking you to end it, Ivy.”

“We’re not just fooling around,” Ivy countered. “Blake loves me. He protects me and he’s good to me. We’re serious about our relationship, too. I had my doubts, Dad, but Blake doesn’t think the stepsibling thing is a big deal. He and I are both adults and we weren't raised together. It’s not as weird as it sounds.”

“I have reputation in town, Ivy,” Jonas said. He was twisting his scarf around in his hands, rolling it between his fingers and stretching it out. He finally looked up at her and continued, “The hardware store only does well because the people of the town support me. If this rumor were to start going around it could ruin my business and my marriage to Ellen. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see how wrong this is? And what happens when you and Blake inevitably split up, which you will? Are you still going to be able to stand each other during holidays? What if you have children? Your kids would have one set of grandparents between them.”

“They would only have one set because my mom is dead and Blake’s dad is a deadbeat who he hasn’t heard from since he was six. Why are you making this so hard? I thought you wanted me to be happy. I am happy with Blake.”

“What about my happiness, Ivy?” Jonas demanded and his words were like slap to Ivy.

“Of course I care about your happiness. But can’t we both be happy?”

“Maybe you can, but I can’t. I’m not okay with this. I don’t approve of this relationship and I think you should end it. Until you do, I think I might need some space.” He looked at Ivy who looked back at him shocked. Was her own father asking her for space? Did he really not want anything to do with her because she was dating Blake? Who was this man and what had he done with her kind and loving father?

“Dad, don’t do this. I don't like the fact that Blake and I are almost stepsiblings. It’s not something I want, but our feelings for each other are so strong that I can’t ignore them. I deserve to see what they are and see where they go.”

“Didn’t you already do that in high school?” Jonas demanded. “You were together, he broke your heart, you missed prom. Why on earth would you want to do that again?”

“Because it’s different this time. He’s different. I’m different. We’re both older and more mature. We love each other.”

Jonas stood and looked at Ivy. “I’ve made my feelings on this matter clear,” he said and then he started walking to the door.

Ivy watched his movements; she had never been more confused in her entire life. Where was this coming from and how could she fix it? But then something else bubbled up inside of her. Some long dormant aspect of her teenage rebelliousness snuck up and out of her subconscious and she wasn't confused anymore; she was mad.

Her father couldn’t tell her who to date. She wasn’t living in his house. She didn’t rely on his money. There was nothing he had to offer except his love and support. He was holding those things hostage and forcing Ivy to choose between him and Blake. In a lot of ways, it reminded her of Darryl. Both men were trying to control who she was with, but she wasn’t going to let them do it.

Ivy crossed her arms over her chest and moved aside so her father could leave. She didn’t say anything. She knew the moment he left she was going to grab her phone and call Blake. She should have ignored Darryl. She should never have given into her demands. People were trying to tear her and Blake apart and if she didn’t stand firm against them they would win.

Jonas reached the door and pulled it open and standing there, his fist raised to knock on the door, was a stunned-looking Blake.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Jonas,” Blake said as he looked from Ivy back to her father. There was something in the look Ivy was giving him. Her arms were crossed and she looked rather unhappy. The look she was giving him was a warning. She was trying to warn him about something, but what? “I didn’t know you were in town...”

“I came to speak to Ivy,” Jonas said. But the warm and friendly voice Blake was used to hearing was gone. Instead Jonas sounded cold and detached. He was wrapping a scarf around his neck and slipping into a pair of gloves. Finally, when he was dressed for the weather outside, he looked up at Blake and continued. “I have asked Ivy to end her relationship with you. Ellen and I are getting married and the two of you will be stepsiblings soon. It’s...unacceptable.” He almost shuddered as he said that final word and Blake felt a ball of anger begin to form in his stomach.

“I wasn't aware Ivy and I had to get your permission,” Blake said. “We’re both adults. We can do whatever we want. And,” he continued, taking a step closer, “I’m not your son. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter,” Jonas said and, to Blake’s surprise, he didn’t back down. Blake was taller, stronger, younger, and a better fighter than the older man, but Jonas didn’t seem as intimidated as Blake would have expected. “You broke her heart once in high school, Blake. I was there. I was the one who held her while she cried. I was the one she spent her prom night with. Did you really think she wanted to be watching TV with her dad that night? It’s not just that you’re stepsiblings. It’s that you are not mature enough for my daughter. She needs a man who understands how the world works, not some overgrown boy who fights for a living.”

“Dad, that’s enough!” Ivy’s stern voice cut through the room and both men turned to look at her. “I think you should leave. I’m not going to stand here and listen to you insult Blake. He’s lost everything because he was trying to protect me. I don’t know where this is coming from, but I don’t like it and I want you to leave.”

Blake raised his eyebrows at Ivy. He had never heard her talk to Jonas like that. Ivy was normally very respectful to her father. She always did what she was told. She never missed curfew or talked back. She never went through a real rebellious phase, but it looked like she was hitting it now.

“And what happens when you break her heart again?” Jonas asked as he walked past Blake. “We’ll be family soon. What will you do then?” He walked away before Blake could say anything.

Not that Blake was going to, it was a rhetorical question and one he had asked himself many times. He had an answer for it. He wanted to be with Ivy forever and he was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.

Blake entered Ivy’s apartment and closed the door behind him. He looked over at Ivy, but she wasn’t crying. She was shaking her head with an almost rueful smile on her face.

“Can we talk about what happened earlier? When you ran away from me?”

“I’m sorry,” Ivy said.

“What did Darryl do?” Blake asked. He didn’t know how he knew; he just did. Ivy loved him as much as he loved her. The only thing that would drive her away was some outside threat: Darryl. It had to be. The son of a bitch was behind bars, but rich people have a different sort of prison experience than everyone else. It wasn’t too surprising that Daryl could harass Ivy from within a jail cell.

“He said he would drop the charges against you if I broke up with you,” Ivy said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“And you believed him?” Blake asked raising his eyebrows.

“What was I supposed to do? Stay with you and watch you go to jail?”

“Look, I’m not some little fish Darryl can push around. I have a lot of money, too, and I have a lot of connections, Ivy. It’s not going to be so easy for Darryl to push me around. Especially once this article comes out. I read the rough draft; it looks good. It makes Darryl look like a pathetic stalker, which he is. I brought it for you to read, too. I haven't asked Tim to change anything about our relationship, but I can...”

“No,” Ivy said shaking her head. “I can’t keep doing this wishy-washy nonsense. You’re right. We want to be together and we are. If people have a problem with it, it’s their problem. We know we love each other and we’re both adults. So, let's do this.”

Blake smiled and took two steps towards Ivy. He put his hand on her cheek and then pulled her close to him for a deep kiss. He could smell the soap she used, could feel the sweep of her long, dark hair. Her back was warm and soft as he pulled her closer to him. He could feel her heart beating and he focused on the tha-thump of her heart. He closed his eyes and fell into the sound. It was like the noise of the universe. It was the only sound he wanted to hear.

“What about your fight?” Ivy asked, her voice muffled. She was leaning against Blake’s chest and she spoke directly into him, which made him smile.

“Still cancelled for the moment. But that decision can be overturned and Tim thinks it will be. But it doesn’t matter. There are always more fights. The only real issue is if I get a felony conviction. That could cause a real problem. But I punched Darryl once and he was violating his restraining order against you. I really don’t think I’m going to get a felony charge for it. I didn’t do that much damage to the guy. This isn’t as bad as you think it is, Ivy.”

Blake looked over to the table and saw the cardboard box half opened on the table, a few items were spread out over the table. He recognized his first metal from his first ever boxing match hanging over the brown cardboard edge. Ivy was the person who encouraged him to join the local Y’s boxing club. She had actually filled out the paperwork and everything. She begged him to join. There was something about the legitimacy of a club that appealed to Ivy. Blake didn’t like it as much. He found the rules too confining and he felt like he was always waiting on the slower kids in the club to catch up. But nothing beat the thrill of a real match in front of an audience. That made it all worth it for Blake: the bright overhead lights, the referee edging around the corners always watching, the glare of sweat on his opponent's face.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” Blake said walking over the table and holding the cheap plastic medal up to the light.

“Of course, it was your first win,” Ivy said as she leaned against him and wrapped her hands around his waist. “It was your first match. I remember I was so nervous as I watched you. I was so worried you were going to get hurt. I had to watch the match from between my fingers.”

“But I won.”

“You kicked that other guy’s ass.”

“That was the exact moment I knew I wanted to be a fighter.” He could still remember the roar of the crowd, though there couldn't have been more than twenty people there. He remembered the referee holding his hand up as he was declared the winner. His heart was pounding, he was out of breath, but he had won and he had seen Ivy sitting in the stands smiling up at him.

“You’re welcome,” Ivy said with a kiss.

“What are we going to do about your dad?” Blake asked as he slipped the medal back into the box.

“I don’t know. Maybe he just needs a little bit of time,” Ivy said with a shrug. “I wonder what your mom thinks…”

“My mom loves you,” Blake said. “I know she’ll be okay with this. Maybe she can convince Jonas to change his mind.” He leaned down and kissed Ivy on the forehead as he looked at the clock. It was still early, only ten o’clock in the morning. But his statement would be coming out within two hours. He needed to go to Tim’s office and get ready. He would have to answer questions and deal with the press and the backlash. But he had Ivy back and she was ready to fight for their relationship. As long as she was there, he could convince himself everything would be okay.

Chapter Thirty-Three

They arrived at Tim’s office where Ivy was surprised to see Ellen sitting in one of the leather chairs in the office sipping a cup of coffee. Blake strode into the door, but Ivy nervously hung back. Her own father had just told her he didn’t approve of her relationship with Blake; she didn’t want to hear the same thing from Ellen whom she liked so much. She watched from the doorway as Ellen stood up and embraced Blake who whispering something into her ear.

She looked up and smiled at Ivy as Blake went back to talk to Tim. Ivy watched Ellen walk towards her and she felt oddly trapped in place. She was desperate to run, but social conventions told her she couldn’t. But she couldn’t bring herself to take a step forward. She fidgeted nervously as Ellen came a step away from her and she froze as the other woman pulled her in for a hug.

“How are you doing, Ivy?” Ellen asked as she released her.

“Not great,” Ivy admitted. “My dad came over. He doesn’t approve of me and Blake.”

“I know,” Ellen said with a shake of her head. “We argued about it all last night and the entire ride up here.”

“You argued?” Ivy asked.

“Yes. I don’t know what your father is thinking. You and Blake are both mature adults who can make your own decisions. If you want to be together, you should. You aren’t blood related and you weren’t raised together. You’re barely stepsiblings,” she said with a wave of her hand and roll of her eyes.

Ivy smiled and grabbed the woman by her shoulders and pulled her into a strong hug.

“Thank you, Ellen. That really means a lot to me. It means so much. I don’t even know how to describe it. Blake really cares what you think and I don’t know what he would do if you didn’t approve.”

“He would ignore me and do whatever he wanted,” Ellen said with a smile. “He would bring you around for the holidays and just wear me down until I agreed with him.”

Ivy laughed; it was only too easy to imagine. But her father wouldn’t be so easily swayed. He was a stubborn man with strong principles. “I just still can’t quite believe it. He said it would be bad for business. Do you think that’s true?”

“Your father cares far too much about what the people in that town think. I think he would be very disappointed to realize his life isn’t interesting enough for town gossip. No one is going to care that you and Blake are together and the ones who will care will just be happy because they know what a good fit you are.”

“But there are some who will think it’s weird.”

“Then we’ll ignore them,” she said with a shrug.

Ivy liked Ellen’s idea of the world, one where everyone was kind and understanding where it was easy to ignore gossips and snoops. Ivy wasn’t convinced the reality would be quite as kind. She was about to tell everyone she was in a relationship with her future stepbrother.

She glanced over at Blake. He was wearing a simple long sleeved black t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He was standing in front of a big bright window, the soft grey light from the cloudy sky illuminating his frame. It almost hurt how much she loved him. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, but she was helpless to stop what was coming. Sometimes she wondered if his life would have been better if he had not met her, but she was too scared to follow that thought to the end.

Twelve o’clock came quickly. It seemed the hands of the clock were spinning around the face far too fast. Ivy could look out the window and see the news vans as they crowded the street below. Reporters in dark suits and short skirts stood out in the windy weather speaking into microphones and sending the story around the world. What would they say? What would the message be? Would Blake be a violent, redneck freak or a man protecting the woman he loved?

“Ivy, can you come in for a moment?” Tim asked. Ivy looked over at him confused. His face was oddly red and he was tugging at his collar.

“Sure,” Ivy said as her stomach dropped. She stood and mustering as much confidence as possible she strode into Tim’s office. Blake was sitting at a table, a cup of coffee in front of him. He was staring out the window and didn’t look happy. “Hey,” Ivy said struggling with a smile.

“Hey,” he responded with a general smile. He reached out for her hand and stroked the back of her knuckles with his thumb for a moment before letting her go. “I need to tell you something. It’s not good news, but it’s not as bad as it sounds and I just need you to let me explain everything before you start in with questions.”

“What? Why? What happened? What’s going on?” Ivy asked Blake rolled his eyes.

“Wow, you literally could not go one second. The camera that was found at the house-”

“No,” Ivy interrupted feeling not a familiar flush, but something worse. She felt not a rush of heat, but a bucket of ice cold water poured over her head.

“He’s uploaded it to the internet. We’ve had it pulled off of the places that have lawyers, the more respectable porn sites. But it’s out there, Ivy, and there’s not much we can do about that.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Ivy said, grabbing her stomach.

Blake grabbed her hand and held her in place. Looking right in her eyes, Blake said, “Ivy, I’ve seen the tape. We have nothing to be worried about. It’s really good.”

Ivy gasped and stared at him as he cracked a smile. She wanted to slap him. Like a sassy broad in an old movie, she wanted to land a hard one right on his face. But she held herself back. There was something about that smile. She wanted to kiss him and kill him all at the same time.

“I can’t believe this,” Ivy said, shaking her head. My life is over, she thought. She didn’t want to say it out loud. Blake had enough on his shoulders; she didn’t want to add to it. But it was out there. People were going to hear about it. They were going to search for on it on Google. She was going to be a joke.

She had about an hour to process everything. It was too much time and not nearly enough. But they had a press conference to give. Tim led the way with Ivy and Ellen following behind him. Everyone in the office stood and nodded as they passed. How many of their jobs depended on Blake’s career? What would happen if it was over? They rode the elevator in silence. At the tenth floor, Blake reached over and squeezed Ivy’s hand and she squeezed his in returned.

The elevators opened and they were greeted with the glare of flashbulbs and the members on the other side of glass doors began to mob the entryway.

“Blank faces, everyone,” Tim reminded them. He took the first step, with Blake right behind them.

Ellen and Ivy waited a beat and then they, too, stepped out into the hallway and walked towards the mob. It felt wrong to Ivy. Her every instinct was to run away from the vultures out there. But she needed to be strong; she couldn’t falter again.

The doors were opened as they stepped outside and into the fray. The flashbulbs were blinding and Ivy almost stumbled as she walked out. The members of the press were pushing forward and shouting as Blake stood at a podium and pulled out his statement. Ivy was shaking from head to toe. She had no idea Blake’s life was like this. It was intense and overwhelming and she wanted to go sit in a quiet room for hours after only dealing with this for a few seconds.

“Thank you for coming,” Blake intoned into the microphone. His voice was strong and confident and he spoke clearly and slowly.

Ivy was impressed. If it were her, she didn’t think she would have got a single word out.

“I would like to start by apologizing for my actions the other day. I allowed a man to provoke me to violence. I sincerely regret my actions and I want my fans to know violence is never the answer. In my defense, however, I would like to tell my side of the story. The man on the other side of this exchange is Darryl Linden. He’s a member of the Linden Logging family. He has been stalking and harassing my girlfriend, Ivy McCormick, for years. He has left threatening and dangerous messages and he has twice violated his restraining orders. So far he has managed to stay above the law. He provoked me into hitting him and I take full responsibilities to my actions. Later, BreakerSpin will be running a full story of the extent of the stalking and fear this man has inflicted on an innocent woman. I am working with my sponsors and the organizers of the fight to move past this minor infraction. My lawyer will answer any questions you may have.”

The press had been silent for the entirety of Blake’s speech but when he finished they were louder than ever as they yelled questions at Blake, his lawyer, but also to Ivy. There was a blonde woman with helmet like hair and a cheap pink suit screaming questions in Ivy’s direction.

“Are you Ivy McCormick!? Are you the one responsible for all of this?”

Ivy felt bewildered, but she tried to keep her face a neutral mask like Tim had instructed. She could barely hear Tim answering questions over the din of the reporter’s yell.

“Do you have any comment on your sex tape with Blake.”

The nausea came suddenly and Ivy balled her hands into fists and looked away from the reporter focusing on keeping her expression blank. Ivy ignored the woman as best she could, but she kept inching closer and closer to her. Her microphone jammed in Ivy’s face. There were more with her now, too. They were like sharks in bloody water, each circling around to see what the best point of attack against Ivy would be.

Finally, Tim was done answering questions even though the reporters were still screaming at him.

Ivy walked gratefully into the elevator still stunned and dazed from all that just happened. Her ears were ringing and she was still seeing flashes every time she closed her eyes.

“You all right?” Blake asked her, rubbing her arms.

“Yeah, that was intense,” Ivy said shaking her head. “I can’t believe you read that statement in such a calm voice. I had no idea how hard that was.”

“You did an excellent job, Blake. The BreakerSpin article comes out tomorrow. They’ve been writing it night and day; the only thing that’s left is interviews with the two of you. You can do it together, if you would like.”

“Yes,” Ivy said reaching over to grab Blake’s hand. “I don’t want to deal with the press alone.”

“You’ll be great,” Blake assured her.

“And you’ll never talk to the press alone. I am always there when you talk to the press, clear?” Tim asked.

Ivy nodded, glad Blake had such a good team behind him. Now would be the hard part. They would have to talk about their relationship and they would have to do it in front of a reporter. It was a trial by fire and Ivy was hoping to not get burned.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The agreement was this: the BreakerSpin reporter would get an exclusive interview with Blake, but only if he downplayed the stepsibling angle. He could only ask one quick question about it and it would only get one short mention in the article. Ivy didn’t really know what to think about the man writing the article. He was tall and thin with a dark beard and thick, dark glasses. He seemed nice and agreeable, but Ivy still felt nervous around him. He had such a power over her life. He would be the one to sway the public’s opinion.

She didn’t enjoy feeling this out of control. She knew what was going to happen. This man would tell his story and the information would be sent out to the world. She could see it on the front page of newspapers and the front page of the ever-popular BreakerSpin. It would travel the world. People all over would read about Blake, and they would read about her. Ivy would be known; she would be famous. But, unlike so many other people, she didn’t want that. She wanted privacy, not fame.

She was terrified of strangers knowing the personal details of her life. She was worried about the assumptions that they would make. People would be talking about her, around the dinner table and in comment sections online. They would gossip about her and talk about her. People would call her horrible names and think awful things and she would be powerless to change their opinions of her.

“I am asking the court to consider all of the evidence and reduce the charges from a felony to a misdemeanor,” Blake said.

“It definitely doesn’t sound like a felony charge is warranted,” the reporter agreed. They were chatting like old friends.

It was disconcerting for Ivy. This man had come to ask them questions and probe their personal lives. She was sitting on a couch in Tim’s office. Blake held her hand firmly in his own. Ivy felt nervous; she had to force herself to stop fidgeting. It took all of her effort to just sit still.

“I am sorry for losing my temper,” Blake said with a nod. “I should have contained myself, but it’s hard when a violent man is threatening someone. It’s hard to do nothing. I don’t like the idea that we basically have to wait for him to physically hurt Ivy before we can land any charges against him. The system is really stacked against her.”

Ivy tensed up. Anytime Blake or the reporter referenced Ivy’s part in all of this, she felt uncomfortable, like she was under a microscope and a spotlight all at the same time.

“So, I do have to ask about the nature of your relationship. Your parents are engaged, right? So, will you two soon be stepsiblings?”

“Our parents are getting married. But Ivy and I are not related in any way. We didn’t grow up together. We were friends growing up and we dated in high school and now we’re back together. I think once people hear the full story they won’t think it’s weird.”

“I don’t,” the reporter said with a shrug.

They had been talking to him for over three hours. Ivy was exhausted and ready to go home. But, next to her, Blake looked relaxed and cool like he did this sort of thing every day. His clothes hadn’t wrinkled and there wasn’t a hair out of place on his head. Sitting next to him Ivy felt awkward and uncomfortable. She didn’t know how he was acting so calm.

“So, have either of you seen the sex tape? You claim it was made illegally by a planted device in your apartment by Ms. McCormick’s stalker.”

“Yes,” Blake said. “The police found it shortly after I was arrested. I have no idea how long it was there or what else is on it. We didn’t film this and we didn’t consent to it being filmed. I’m asking people to not watch it and to not look for it. It was a private moment between two people and it shouldn’t be part of a public spectacle.”

The reporter nodded as he took down his notes. He seemed suitably impressed by Blake and so was Ivy.

They shook hands, Ivy struggling to keep hers from shaking as she stood. She wanted to be calm and confident. She didn’t want people to think she was some weak-kneed damsel in distress. She didn’t want people thinking she had ruined Blake’s career.

“That went well,” Blake said putting his hands on her shoulders.

He sounded confident. She wished she had his confidence. It seemed he had so much to spare. She wished it were something he could dole out, she could take just a little of his, just what she needed to sustain her through the next day.

***

The next morning, at Blake’s apartment, Ivy stood in front of a full-length mirror and looked at herself. She looked pale and there were dark bags under her eyes. She began to apply concealer and eyeliner to make herself look presentable. She left her hair down, blowing out and curling the ends. She knew her picture would be on the front page of more than a few newspapers and websites the next day.

She dressed in a blue pencil skirt with a white button down shirt tucked into the waistband. She looked herself over and tried to put a smile on her face. She looked good, but her smile looked fake and forced. She would need to stay as calm as possible; she would need to wear her neutral mask.

Tim drove them and Ellen to the courthouse. There were news vans and reporters camped outside, but they were ignored. Walking behind Blake, Ivy kept her face down as the reporters screamed her name.

“Ivy, how do you feel?”

“Blake, what will you do if you the judge won’t reduce the charges?”

“Blake, what’s going to happen to you and Ivy when your parents marry?”

“Blake, your sex tape was just rated number one in a Pornhub favorite amateur porn poll. What do you think of that?”

“Ivy, is it true you’ve accepted a two-million-dollar deal to do a sequel to your video with Kink?”

She forced herself to keep walking. She took her cues from Blake and Tim who nodded at the reporters as they pushed past them and into the courthouse. There was a line between rudeness and giving in. But Ivy didn’t know where that line was. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to treat and react to the reporters. They were their enemies and their greatest allies all at the same time. They needed to keep them on their side without giving away too much. It was a tightrope act and Ivy was the only one who had never practiced before.

The courtroom was a silent oasis compared to the outside world. The judge refused to permit any press inside. The gallery was almost empty. Tim held open the doors to the courtroom and Ivy and Blake walked in together.

Ivy came to the low wooden gate that separated the gallery from the judge and the lawyers. Blake squeezed Ivy’s hand and he flashed her a smile, one she tried valiantly to return.

Sitting next to Ellen, Ivy perched on the edge of her seat. She glanced to her left, but Darryl was nowhere in sight. His lawyer was sitting alone, frowning towards his phone. Darryl had been released yesterday afternoon. Ivy heard nothing from him in the last few hours. For the first time, she wanted to see him. She wanted to see if he looked different after his stint in prison. She hoped he did. She hoped he looked broken and sad and ruined.

Blake sat next to his attorney. He looked sharp and sophisticated in a well-fitting black suit. He really was a changed man. Instead of lounging back in his seat and rolling his eyes, he was sitting up straight, going over paperwork with his lawyer. This was a new Blake, one who regretted rash actions and who was ready to apologize when the time came. Ivy liked this new Blake. She had liked the old one, but something about this new maturity he had struck her. He was an adult now, someone she could depend on.

The judge entered and Ivy looked around, confused. Where was Darryl? He might have been rich and from a famous family, but not even he could skip a court date. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest as she smiled for real. If Darryl didn’t show up, he would face even more charges; he could go to jail even longer.

“All rise! Now presiding the Honorable Judge O’Brian.” Everyone stood as a short balding man in a long black robe walked towards his seat and he hit his gavel twice as everyone took their seats.

“Mr. Anderson. Is your client running late?” the judge asked as he turned to face Darryl’s lawyer.

“He has not yet arrived, your honor. If I could request a continuance on this matter-”

“Your client was released from police custody yesterday at two-thirty in the afternoon. Have you lost him in less than twenty-four hours? Do you have any idea where he is?”

“At the moment, no, your honor,” the lawyer said looking sheepishly to the ground.

The judge sighed and shook his head. “Are you sticking with a felony charge?”

“That was the last request of my client, your honor.”

“Your client who is not here for the hearing?”

For a moment no one spoke. The judge looked sternly down at Darryl’s lawyer before he began to sort through papers in front of him. “A felony charge for a single punch? Seems rather an overreaction to me especially when you consider that your client was violating his restraining order and threatening someone when he received his hit.”

Darryl’s lawyer said nothing, but Ivy could see a line forming between his eyes as his frowned deepened. He was being made a fool of.

“Mr. Lambert,” the judge said and Blake stood up and smoothed his tie and looked respectfully at the judge. “I have heard all of the evidence for and against you and I agree with your lawyer that a felony charge is unwarranted.”

Ivy gasped quietly and Ellen reached over and they held hands and waited for the judge to continue.

“Since Mr. Linden has chosen not to grace us with his presence and considering he was violating a restraining order at the time of the attack I am dropping the charges against you. However, I do not ever want to see you in my courtroom again. Is that clear?”

“Yes, your honor. Thank you.”

“Dismissed!” The judge cried, banging his gavel twice as Ellen embraced Ivy in a long, deep hug.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Blake Lambert vs. The Linden Family

That was the headline BreakerSpin went with. It was one long piece detailing everything that had happened to Ivy. The reporter heard all the dangerous voicemails Darryl had left for Ivy. He saw the deranged stuffed animals and pictures of the strange notes. He saw the restraining order that Darryl had violated twice.

It was good. Really good. It made Ivy look innocent, Blake a hero, and Darryl a dangerous lunatic. The best thing it did was call out the Linden family – the rich parents who ignored their troubled son and paid his problems away. The parents refused to make any sort of comment to the press about their son. But there was only so long they could get away with that.

There were lengthy sections with pictures of the elephant covered in black paint and the deranged words written on Blake’s door. There were quotes from psychologists about the mentality of stalking and from the police about how impossible it was to charge someone with the crime of stalking. There was a short paragraph that detailed Blake’s relationship with Ivy, but it downplayed the stepsibling aspect. Instead it showed them as what they were: two unrelated adults who wanted to be with each other. And the sex tape was treated as a gross invasion of privacy and not something they needed to be embarrassed about.

“This is good,” Tim said. “This is all very good. The public is with you, Blake. I have messages from sponsors and fight organizers. They’re looking to work something out.”

“Work what out?” Ivy asked.

“Some sort of penance. Charity would be a good step. We could start a charity in your name to help other people who are being stalked and harassed,” Tim offered.

“Or we could donate to a charity that exists already,” Ivy said crossing her arms.

Blake saw the flash of anger there and he was desperate to keep Ivy calm. “We’ll find something, Ivy,” Blake assured her, reaching out to her arm. “We can make sure it’s legit.”

“Sometimes people, especially athletes, set up ‘charities’ and then hire their family to work in it. They don’t do any actual charity work. It’s just a tax dodge because they call it a nonprofit. I don’t want to be part of anything like that, Blake.”

“No way,” Blake said. “I would never do that.” He knew plenty of people who did, but not Blake. Something about that just seemed so wrong. He couldn’t bring himself to even consider it.

Blake was happy and when Tim advised him to not Google himself and to never ever read the comments on anything, Blake listened. Ivy was another story. The night of his court date he awoke at two in the morning to see Ivy wasn’t with him. Under the crack in his door he could see a faint blue light, the glow of a computer screen from the other room. “Are you kidding me?” Blake demanded as he stepped out into the living room. Wearing nothing but his boxers he tried to smooth down his hair as he walked to Ivy.

She was lying on the couch in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of white cotton panties with the laptop resting on a pillow on her stomach. “I can’t help it,” she said in despair. “I couldn't sleep, so I got up to look at pretty wrapping paper on Pinterest, something that always calms me down, but then I couldn't help myself and I just thought I would do a quick search and now I can’t stop.”

Blake sat down next to her and took the laptop. He shut it and put it on a side table and then pulled Ivy’s feet up on his lap. “Why would you do that?”

“How can you not?” Ivy demanded throwing her arm over her eyes. “The curiosity was driving me mad. Did you know there’s an entire online forum devoted to discussing whether I’m curvy or not and if that’s a bad thing or not? It’s awful.”

“You’re beautiful,” Blake said, stroking her bare leg with his hand. He reached up farther and lightly stroked her thigh. He felt goose bumps appear on her flesh and he couldn’t help but smile.

“The first thing that comes up when you search my name is Ivy McCormick sex tape. There are over millions of links. Millions!”

“People will forget. Just don’t talk to the media. Don’t feed the beast. With no new information it’ll starve. People will forget about you and it will just be a little bump in the road.”

“A bump in the road?” Ivy demanded in disbelief. “I’m infamous. People hate me and think I’m a slut and I didn’t even do anything.”

Blake lifted Ivy’s leg and kissed her knee and he felt the shudder that ran through her. She giggled and reached up for him. He twisted and leaned down and she slipped her hand into his hair and then down to his neck. She stroked the soft skin of the back of his neck and said, “I don’t know how you take everything in stride like this.”

“I focus on other things,” Blake said.

He took Ivy’s arm in his hand and pulled it to his mouth. He laid a kiss on the inside of her wrist and Ivy sighed and bit her lip as she looked up at him. She was moving her legs, sliding them up and down the couch, something she did when she was turned on. He was glad it was a habit she hadn’t broken. He kissed the inside of her elbow letting his tongue slide between his lips and caress the sensitive skin.

Ivy’s other hand came up and she pulled him to her. He hovered over her and kissed her lips softly. She looked up at him and he could see the want in her dark eyes and he leaned down and kissed her deeply. He sucked on her lower lip and felt her squirm beneath him as he slipped his tongue over hers.

She was moaning quietly and wrapping her arms around his neck. Blake settled himself between her thighs and Ivy brought her legs up and around him holding him fast to her. Blake’s erection was pushing into the couch and occasionally grazing against Ivy and every accidental touch made him want her more.

He sat back and pulled her up with him. He pulled off her shirt and then leaned down and took one of her breasts in his mouth. Ivy arched her back and moaned, burying her hands in Blake’s hair. He slipped a hand down her stomach and underneath the hem of her pink panties. His fingers slipped down and traced the lines of her folds and Ivy gasped and bit his lower lip.

He slipped his fingers into her and she moaned into his shoulder as he began to kiss his way across her body. Licking her clavicle and then biting and sucking at her neck as her hands gripped his arms and her hips moved his against his fingers.

“Blake, yes,” she whispered into his ear, but it was said as she gasped for breath and clung to him.

He wanted her. He wanted all of her all of the time. He slipped his hand free of her and she made a whining noise, but Blake barely heard. He stood and pulled his boxers off and reached for Ivy’s panties, slipping them down her legs and tossing them aside. He reached into a side drawer and pulled out a condom slipping it quickly over himself

Blake took Ivy by the hips and spun her around. He leaned her over the armrest of the couch and she held herself there. Blake took his erection in his hand and easily slid himself into her. She cried out his name when he entered her and moaned as he thrust into her again and again, pulling her hips into him before pulling himself out. He went harder, faster before slowing his strokes, listening to her whimper. When he could tell she was frustrated with the speed, longing for more, he sped up again, going deeper this time.

“Blake, yes. I’m so close,” Ivy whispered as she pushed back against him. Blake grabbed Ivy’s hips and slowed down as he heard her moan beneath him. She pushed back against him and he rested his hand on her back and felt as her body tense and she cried out loudly. Her body convulsed and, with one final thrust, Blake followed Ivy over the edge and they came together.

He rested on her for a moment, savoring this thing they shared. But finally he pulled himself away from her. Throwing the condom out he sat on the couch and pulled a blanket around himself as Ivy joined him. “So did watching our sex tape turn you on?” Blake asked with a smile. He couldn’t help himself.

“Shut up!” Ivy yelled rolling her eyes. “I didn’t watch it. I couldn’t. Did you?”

“Of course I did. I had to know what was on there.”

“Blake! How could you?”

“Ivy, how could you not?” Blake asked and she bit her lip to keep from smiling and looked away. “I needed to see what was on it. But it’s just the sex we had and it actually looks really good.”

“Oh my, God,” Ivy said shaking her head. “I can’t believe you think it’s good.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ivy drove to work, following her old route and old routine. For a moment, she almost felt normal. There were, of course, about a dozen paparazzi waiting outside of Blake’s apartment building, but she didn’t let them sway her. She smiled politely and walked right past them with her head down and her hand partially blocking her face.

Her boss had called for a meeting. But he hadn’t sounded upset or worried when he called. He sounded happy and chipper and he said he really wanted Ivy to come in for an official meeting. She didn’t think she was getting fired; she was pretty sure she was getting her job back. Public opinion was firmly with Blake and Ivy.

This was confirmed when she bought her coffee and saw her own face staring up at her from a tabloid. Her jaw dropped and, before she could stop herself, she was reaching for the glossy mag. She stared at it and the man behind the counter, thinking she wanted it, dutifully scanned it and put it in her bag.

Numbly Ivy thanked him and walked to her car. She sat down in her car in the parking lot and picked up the magazine. She held it delicately as if it were her own life she was holding onto.

“Sex Tape Drama! Blake wants to go pro, but Ivy’s not interested. Will the two be able to keep it together?” She wasn't the main story. The main story was about one of the Teen Moms, but still. She was on the cover.

She opened to page twenty-seven and saw several photos of her and Blake around town. There was one from his court date, his press release, another of the two of them stopping quickly at the grocery store and several of them entering and exiting Blake’s apartment. There were “sources” from close friends who said Blake and Ivy had received an offer from Adam & Eve to do a tasteful couples porn and Blake wanted to, but Ivy was refusing until she saw a ring!

Ivy’s eyes grew as she stared at the words on the page. How did they come up with this? Where did these ideas come from? Who were these “close sources”? Blake and Ivy had received offers, but they weren’t even bothering to respond. It was a joke, and an embarrassing one at that. But still Ivy couldn’t help but be a little thrilled to be on the inside of one of these. She had been addicted to celebrity gossip when she was in high school and she had finally weaned herself off of these things. Now she was in one and late for a meeting with her boss.

Ivy parked her car in the lot and took one look at herself in the mirror to make sure she looked okay. She popped a mint and stepped out of her car and into the familiar parking lot of her firm. She had taken three steps when a car alarm in the lot went off. Ivy glanced behind her, but didn’t see anything and continued on. And then another went off and another. Ivy turned around slowly and stared at the lot of blinking, honking cars. Her eyes scanned the lot for anyone. Was it Darryl?

She couldn’t believe he would still be in the city. It was impossible. He had to have ran. She was sure his parents had paid a private jet to get him out of the country. Now he would spend the rest of his life in some foreign place making some other girl’s life miserable. That had been her theory. But now about twenty car alarms were all going off at once right as Ivy had started walking.

She stared at the lot for a moment hoping Darryl was there. She hoped he had followed her because now she was ready for a fight. People believed her. They wanted to help her and she was ready to stand up for herself. But no one appeared. One by one the lights and horns stopped and finally Ivy turned and walked into the building.

Ivy sat across from Mr. Robinson. But they weren’t in the coffee shop. They were in his office.

“Ivy, I’m so glad you’re here,” Mr. Robinson said smiling at her. “I wanted to personally apologize for my actions the other day. I didn’t fully understand the levels of this man's animosity to you. I want you to come back to work. Full time. It was a mistake sending you home.”

Ivy smiled at him and nodded, but she didn’t say anything. It had been on the front page of Jezebel that Ivy’s job had basically fired her for being stalked. The story had been picked up by the Times; it was officially a big deal. Her boss was doing good PR and it just happened to be swinging in Ivy’s favor.

“Thank you, Mr. Robison. It means a lot to hear that from you.”

“And, please, if you want to take some time off to deal with this, please know you can take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” Ivy said. “But I’m ready to get back to work. I can come back on Monday if that works for you.”

“It does,” Mr. Robinson stood and shook her hand.

Ivy walked out of his office with her head held high. She still couldn’t quite believe it. There was a manhunt for Darryl. He was officially wanted and when he was found there would be no slap on the wrist; he was looking at serious jail time. If he were found.

It was entirely possible his family had slipped him out of the country. They were very rich and had a lot of contacts in South America. Still, Ivy had been relaxed these last few days. She would have never thought that Darryl would stay in the city to mess with her. She figured he was long gone and out of her life. She was thrilled. That would be enough, to know Darryl was far away. An arrest warrant was like a country-wide restraining order.

After work she drove back to her old apartment. She had clothes and other things she needed there. Warm sweaters for the coming cold and her sturdiest pair of snow boots. She didn’t want to be trapped at Blake’s without them. She parked in her old spot and she was pleasantly surprised there was no paparazzi waiting for her. She took the elevator to her floor.

She stepped out into her hallway with its red and yellow carpet and walked towards her door. There was still a hole in the wall from where Darryl had nailed the stuffed elephant into it. She ran her fingers over the shards of wood and shook her head. There was something really wrong with him. He was dangerous and a part of her would always regret that she would never see him behind bars.

Ivy unlocked her many locks and stepped inside. The apartment seemed the same. But it already felt a little strange. Like it was a place Ivy had left behind a long time ago and she was just coming back years later for a visit. She dropped her bag on the couch and quickly rifled through her mail, separating the junk and putting the stuff she would need later in her purse.

She slipped out of her shoes and padded over to her bedroom. She opened the door and then stared around her in confusion. It was wrong. It was very wrong. She took a step back and blinked, putting her hand to her chest as she tried to figure out what she was seeing.

Red. Her room was covered in red paint. Buckets of it had been poured and thrown everywhere. The empty buckets were piled in one corner on top of her shoes. There were large splashes on her wall, her floor covered in it and there were even drips on the ceiling. It was a deep cherry red color, the color of blood. Ivy reached forward and felt the paint; it was hard and her hand came away clean. It was dried. It had been here for a while.

She stumbled back out of the room and slammed the door closed behind her. She looked around her apartment, but saw no one. She raced to her phone and quickly dialed 911 and explained what happened. She opened her door and searched the hallway and still there was no one. Something about the unearthly quiet of the building unnerved her. She didn’t want to be here; she didn’t want to be alone. She needed to hear voices and see people.  Ivy slammed the door closed behind her and raced for the elevator. She frantically pushed the button as she looked over her shoulder. There was no one. But, still, her heart pounded in her chest and she was jittery and the elevator finally came.

Ivy rode it to the first floor where the door opened to reveal and bright and airy lobby. There was a large centerpiece bursting with orange flowers on a marble table and people were scattered about here and there. Ivy looked around at all of the people living their own pleasant lives and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath and tried to calm her hard beating heart. She dialed Blake’s number and listened as it rang. Part of her couldn't believe this was still happening. Again there was Blake and the police and frantic telephone calls. She had tasted happiness and it had been wonderful. She wanted to taste it again. She wanted to be happy and not be afraid all the time. She wanted her life to be normal again. But Darryl wasn’t quite ready to let go yet.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Darryl didn’t bother to hide that he was the one doing these things anymore. That was a small comfort. His fingerprints and boot prints were found all over the apartment. He was getting angry and careless and dangerous, which made the fact that the police still couldn't find him all the more frustrating. But, to Blake’s surprise, Ivy was surprisingly calm. She seemed to face this new attack with a detached determination. He was proud of her.

They left her paint-stained bedroom and the police behind. There were no tears from Ivy, no worries. They had a party scheduled for that night and Ivy refused to cancel. She told Blake she wanted to go out and so they left and went back to Blake’s apartment to change before the party. One of Blake’s biggest sponsors, RedHot Energy Drinks, had resigned him to an even bigger contract and there was a party that night for it.

“I want to go,” she said with a smile as the drove to his place.

Blake hired extra security for his building. Now there was a burly ex-Marine bouncer sitting on Blake’s couch ready to deal with Darryl if he stopped by to leave another camera lying around. Blake didn’t bother with protection for himself or Ivy. He could protect them both.

***

“Wow,” Ivy said as she looked around the room once they arrived to the party. She was trying not to laugh, but her lips were pursed as she shook her head. “This is something.”

The large banquet room a downtown club was decked out in RedHot swag. There were banners hanging from the ceiling and everything was stamped with the company's logo: a close up of the sun in its red/orange/black glory. There were also cardboard cutouts, huge posters, and large screens with his smiling face on them scattered throughout the room. It was loud and dramatic like everything RedHot did. Blake liked these guys and he was glad they were still sponsoring him.

“It’s fun,” Blake said with a smile as he knocked back a glass of champagne. There were scantily-clad women strolling about with trays of drinks, but Blake did his best to ignore them and made sure not to look for too long. He was looking for something else. He was on the lookout for anyone strange, anyone who didn’t belong, anyone lurking around the edges. Darryl was still out there somewhere and he wasn’t done with Ivy, the red paint had proven that. “How do you feel?” Blake asked Ivy, sidling up closer to her and putting his arm around her waist.

“Good,” she answered with a genuine smile. “How do you feel?”

“I’m serious, Ivy. The paint in your room, how are you coping with all of that?”

“I don’t know...” Ivy said, looking away before looking back. “It’s almost like that didn’t happen. It’s like, I put Darryl behind me when your charges were overturned. I flipped a switch and turned off the part of my brain that worried about him all the time. I honestly thought he was gone and it was nice to feel safe for once. And now...I don’t want to go back to being afraid or hiding. It’s been too nice not needing to live in fear.”

Blake smiled and leaned down to kiss Ivy when there was a bright flash to his right. A hired photographer gave a cheeky grin and said, “I’ll airbrush you two to perfection. Don’t worry you both look amazing,” and then he was off and Ivy and Blake were left stunned and half-blind.

Ivy giggled and pulled away from Blake as people stopped to stare at them. “I’m monopolizing you,” Ivy said as she stared out into the faces of the crowd below them. People in stunning ball gowns and tuxedos milled about with professional skateboarders and snowboarders in baggy jeans and beanies. Everyone was having fun; it was a celebration and the mood was infectious; even Ivy was having a good time.

“What are you thinking about?” Blake asked as he leaned on the bannister next to her.

“Everything,” she said with a shake of her head. “Every crazy thing that has happened to us. It’s over, but at the same time, we’re still in the middle of it.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Lambert,” a young woman with an earpiece said as she stood next to the two of them. “But Mike wants to do the speech in five and it would be great if we could get you close to the stage.”

“Yes, of course,” Blake answered standing up straight. “Do you want to wait in the green room?”

“No,” Ivy answered with a smile. “I want to see how you look on the stage.”

He leaned down and kissed her cheek before walking away. He hated leaving her alone. She was incapable of ignoring the online chatter surrounding them, every time he turned his back she was on her phone or her laptop driving herself crazy with things she couldn’t control. He wanted to be there to take the phone and computer out of her hand and distract her any way he could think of.

Blake felt hands on his back as he passed through the crowd on the lower level. He stopped and smiled for selfies and signed pictures of himself as he continued up to the stairs. But he was looking past his fans and admirers. Where was Darryl? Blake wanted to find him; he wanted the coward to show himself. A real fight between the two of them. Blake wanted to take him out and send him to jail for as long as possible.

Ivy had seen the promised land that was free of fear from Darryl. She had seen it and she had liked it and she wanted more of it. Blake wanted to give it to her. He wanted to see her smile free from fear for the rest of her life. But that would never truly happen if Darryl was still free. There would always be dangerous shadows where he could be lurking, vulnerable moments where he could attack. Blake couldn’t let any harm come to her, but how long could he reasonably keep her on a short leash.

He walked behind the woman and into the green room. There were a few other people back there including Mike, the owner of the company. No last name, no Mr., just the name: Mike. He was wearing a blazer, jeans, a t-shirt, and white sneakers.

He was the epitome of energy and he jogged over to Blake flashing a bright white smile as he held his hand out. “Blake Lambert, good to see you again!” Mike said, taking Blake’s hand in his and shaking it firmly.

“Mike, thank you so much for re-signing me after everything that happened,” Blake said.

“Please, don’t mention it. You punched a deranged stalker. I’m not dropping you for that. Where is the lucky lady?” He asked looking around.

“She’s not a big fan of crowds and being in front of people. She’s still a little shy.”

“I can imagine,” Mike said, “after everything she’s been through...” He shook his head and then a smile appeared on his face as he changed course in his conversation. “But let’s not dwell on darker times. We are celebrating tonight. The fight is back on and you are ready to win, yes?”

“Absolutely,” Blake answered.

“Good.”

From behind them came an announcer's cry as he introduced the head of the company. Mike flashed a smile at Blake and then headed towards the curtain and onto the stage as his name was announced. The curtains parted and Blake got a glimpse of the bright lights and the crowd as Mike took the stage.

He was back. He had stood on the edge of the precipice of his career, but now he was back. He had put everything on the line for Ivy and lived to fight another day. He could have everything he wanted: his career and his girl, even his mom happily married. It was all so close, all just within reach. He just needed to wait for the noose to tighten around Darryl. That little rich boy couldn't hide for too much longer. He would be found soon and all of this could be over.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

They took a limo home. Ivy felt pleasantly tipsy and warm from all of the champagne she had drank. She snuggled into Blake as the limo slowly traversed the crowded nighttime Seattle streets. The only other time Ivy had been in a limo she had been with Darryl. He refused to drive and took black cars and limos everywhere – even just to go to a restaurant around the corner. It actually annoyed her after a while.

Being in the limo with Blake was different. It was something special, a treat. The divider was up between them and the driver and she enjoyed the privacy it offered. It felt pleasantly strange to be in a car driven by someone else. It was a luxury. She could distract Blake as much as she wanted without having to risk an accident.

She leaned against his shoulder, careful not to smear any makeup on his pristine white shirt. She reached down and felt his leg with her hand. Allowing her fingers to lazily trace their way higher and higher, Blake smiled down at her. Behind him, through the rain streaks on the windows, she could see the lights of the city as they flashed past.

Ivy hadn’t heard from her father since their argument. He hadn’t said anything about the article on BreakerSpin or Darryl’s wanted status. This was a time for celebration. She had been vindicated. Everyone knew how crazy Darryl was. They knew how he had devoted his life to ruining hers and the torture he had inflicted over the last several years. But Jonas didn’t care.

Her father had dealt with all of Darryl’s stalking with her. He had been the one to encourage her to go to the police, to file the restraining order, and to never give up in documenting everything that happened. She only had this moment of success because of her father’s hard work. But now he wasn’t here to share in the victory. Ellen was here, so where was he? Sitting alone in the dark somewhere? Should she feel bad for him? Should she miss him? He was wrong about her relationship with Blake, though. He was the one who needed to apologize. But was she really going to let her relationship with her father fall to ruin over stubbornness?

And then there was the sex tape. No father wanted to see his daughter like that. Not that Jonas would ever watch it. But he would know it existed and his friends might watch it. It could be humiliating for him; it was humiliating for Ivy. But the sting of the sex tape had worn off somewhat. It was humiliating and demeaning, but there was nothing she could do about it. It was out there and nothing could ever remove it forever. There was no point in being mad or upset over something she couldn’t change. She wasn’t happy about it, but she had at least come to terms with it.

Yes, there was a video of she and Blake having sex out there. But she didn’t regret sleeping with Blake, she loved him. The passion they shared was something wonderful and not something she ever wanted to be ashamed of. If a bunch of sick weirdoes wanted to watch something they knew was private and had been made illegally, they were the perverts not her and not Blake.

They arrived at the house and the limo dropped them off at the door. Blake exited first and put out his hand for Ivy to take as she stepped out into the wet weather. Blake pulled her close and, together, laughing they raced up to front door as heavy raindrops began to fall around them. They entered the foyer of the building and hurried toward the elevator.

The grim face of the super and the doorman stopped them cold in their tracks. For one moment Ivy wanted to ignore them. She wanted to run past them and into the elevator just to hold onto this feeling of safety for another moment. She was happy and she knew from the looks on their faces they had only bad news to give.

“Mr. Lambert,” the super said stepping forward and Ivy felt the smile slip from her face.

“What happened?” she asked. But she didn’t feel afraid. She felt annoyed. She didn’t want to do this anymore; she was tired of Darryl and his cowardly nonsense.

“Mr. Lambert’s tires were slashed. We have called the police and we have security footage. But nothing concrete. Whoever it was hid their face from view. They were wearing a cap and a dark, long coat.”

“We know who it was,” Blake said. “You’ve called the police?” His voice sounded strong and Ivy could not help but hold onto his hand as he spoke. She wanted his confidence and his strength, she wanted to be as brave and unafraid as he was.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll call triple A and have them tow the car to a mechanic. Please be sure to let them in the garage when they come.”

“Of course,” the super agreed.

Blake nodded at the other man and then he and Ivy walked towards the elevator. They rode up in silence. Their moment of levity was gone. Their happiness was gone, sucked out of them by Darryl’s machinations. Blake squeezed Ivy’s hand and she shook her head. Even when she was strong and brave, Darryl still had power over her – the power to take her happiness away.

They opened the door to the apartment and saw the bouncer sitting on the living room couch. There were no issues, he told them. No visitors, nothing strange. He had been there all night and the apartment was safe. Blake walked the other man to the door as Ivy slumped down on the couch.

“Darryl Linden Still on the Loose.”

“Linden Stalks Again, Covers Victim’s Bedroom in Red Paint.”

“Have you seen the Blake Ivy Sex Tape? Leave Your Comments Below.”

Ivy rolled her eyes at the headlines. She knew it was bad to look, but she couldn't help herself. She hadn’t been foolish enough to comment or do anything other than look. But she needed to see. She couldn’t bury her head in the sand. She needed to know what people were saying even if she didn’t agree.

She stared out of Blake’s large windows down to the city below. Splashes of red paint, slashed tires. Was it possible Darryl was getting desperate? He was normally more suave than this. He was all about actions that were creepy and strange, but otherwise harmless. But the sex tape and the words on the door and the red paint and now the tires. He was escalating things. He’ll be caught soon, she said to herself. He has to be.

***

The next morning, she sat in her pajamas on Blake’s couch. He had left for the gym before the sun had even peeked over the horizon. He had taken several days off from training, but the fight was back on and he needed to be ready. He left early and Ivy was going to work from home. She still had a few days until her return. Sipping coffee, she knew what she needed to do.

She dialed her father’s number and had to admit she was a little disappointed when it went straight to voicemail. It was a weekday at ten o’clock; her father was at work. He was near his phone. He was still deliberately ignoring her. She listened to his voicemail greeting; he sounded stiff and unsure of himself as if he had been self-conscious off the message when he had left it.

“Hi, Dad, it’s me,” Ivy said as she stood up and began to pace the apartment. “We haven't talked for a while and I miss you. I don’t want us to not speak to each other. I miss you and I love you. Please call me back.” She hung up the phone and placed it on the table in front of her and stared at it. She was hoping he would call her back right away. She hoped her offer of peace would be enough to bridge the gap between them, but her phone refused to ring.

At one o’clock Detective Diaz stopped by. She sat perched on one of the stools on Blake’s counter and she sipped a cup of coffee as they spoke. “It’s a manhunt across the entire country. He is wanted and dangerous. This is good. It’s what we wanted.

“But he’s still out there somewhere,” Ivy said.

“And he’s getting worse,” Diaz said. “He’s escalating his attacks and we’re worried he’s going to come for you, Ivy. He’s lost a lot and his family is distancing themselves from him. They might soon leave him to his own devices and then what will he do? He might think that with nothing else to lose attacking you is the only option he has left. But there is some good news.”

“Thank God for that,” Ivy said.

“People are coming forward. The elephant that was left on your door, we found a print on it, but it wasn’t Darryl’s. It belongs to a man named Henry Jennings. He’s an out of work ex-con and a heroin addict. He was hanging around a local hardware store, hoping someone would pick him up for under the table work. Darryl hired him and had him go out and buy the paint and the elephant. He thought it was strange, but he was paid a lot of money and he was given a fix. He’s been working for Darryl since then. He was picked up the other day for running a stop sign; they found heroin on him. Once we had him in custody he told us everything.”

“Does he know where Darryl is?”

“We set up a sting to try and grab him, but Darryl must have known he was arrested and he never showed. But we did learn something.”

“What?”

“Darryl is running out of money. He had to sell a watch to pay this man and he’s been sleeping in a cheap motel off the highway. He’s broke and his parents aren’t helping anymore. Like I said, he’s getting desperate. This is good for us, but dangerous for you, Ivy. You need to be careful; you need be aware. Darryl is still obsessed with you. He’s not done. But we’re on his trail and soon we will have him. I just want you to be careful in the meantime. Promise me, Ivy.”

“I promise,” Ivy said.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel. It was flickering and weak and far away, but it was there. Darryl was desperate. He was at his lowest point. He was broke and friendless with no one to bail him out. All it would take would be one slip up and he would be done for. She needed to be patient. She needed to give him enough rope to hang himself with. She needed to show how happy she and Blake were together. She needed to show him the sex tape didn’t bother her. That would drive him mad. That would drive him out into the open where the police would be waiting. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, but Ivy still had a great deal of darkness to traverse before she could finally reach it.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Blake finished fifty pull ups and landed on the soft mat of the gym, rolling his shoulders as his arms burned. It felt good be back at the gym. It felt good to be back at work. He had missed almost an entire week of training after his arrest and everything that followed. But Blake was in exceptional shape. He could take a week off and not have it ruin him. He was still strong and fast and he was ready for his upcoming fight.

Jamal tossed a heavy exercise ball at Blake and he caught it before throwing it back. They went back and forth, throwing the heavy ball at each other, working the muscles in his abs and arms. It was a punishing training. Jamal was making him pay for his many missed sessions. But Blake like being pushed; he liked seeing just how strong he really was. It gave him confidence to push through the pain and keep going.

He got a break, finally, after fifty push ups and Jamal, like his own personal warden, let him take a break for a phone call. He called Ivy, and was happy to hear her voice on the other line. She told him what the police said. The part about her safety troubled him. He didn’t like that the police themselves said she was in danger.

“Can I come see you?” Ivy asked into the phone. “I’m bored here and I think maybe I want to pick up where we left off with our training the other day. I know how to punch, but I imagine there’s more to it than that.”

“Yes, come whenever you want. But do me a favor and use the car service,” he said. He was worried about someone tampering with her car, or grabbing her in an empty parking lot somewhere. It was all too easy for him to imagine it: Ivy walking alone, the wind whipping her hair about her, and then the squeal of tires as someone raced up behind her, grabbed her, and stuffed her into the trunk.

***

She arrived dressed for the gym in a pair of yoga pants and a tight tank top that showed off the curves of her body. He couldn’t help but be proud of the fact that he was with her. She was so beautiful and smart and heads literally turned as she passed. But she was his and his alone.

He smiled as she approached him. “Ready to work?”

“Yes,” Ivy said. “I’m ready to be your pupil.” He took her hands and wrapped her knuckles in tape and then kissed her palm before he let her go. “Don’t get soft on me now, Lambert,” she said with a crooked smile.

“Not a chance,” he said. He positioned her in front of a punching bag. “I want you to kick and hit right here,” Blake said, pointing to a spot about halfway up the punching bag. “The heel of your foot needs to hit right here.”

Ivy nodded and he watched as she squinted and focused on the bag. She got into position and lifted her leg and then kicked hard at the punching bag, pushing it into Blake. “Good,” Blake said. “Ten more.”

Ivy did ten reps on either side and then he gave her a break. She was out of breath and there was a thin film of sweat on her face and chest. Blake realized it had been a long time since he had seen her blush. Perhaps she had moved past her bashful stage; maybe she was harder to embarrass now. She had grown stronger right in front of his eyes.

“Okay,” Blake said. “That was good. Now I’m going to teach you some basic self-defense moves. The eyes, throat, stomach, and groin are the major weak points. You are smaller, so you don’t want to try and fight your way out of a situation. You need to be smarter than that. If someone attacks you, you need to hit their weak points as fast as possible and then use the time to get to safety.” Ivy nodded, but Blake needed to be sure she understood. “These moves are not so you can beat your enemy to a pulp. They are just ways for you to escape a dangerous situation. Now, put your hands up. Don’t let me attack you.”

Ivy dutifully put her hands up. Without a word Blake snatched out his hand and grabbed her wrist. He spun her around and then pulled her back against him, holding his arm across her throat. In one smooth motion he had trapped her. She gasped against him and struggled, but there was no getting out it.

He released her and she looked up at him aghast. “That was easy,” she said and the blush was back on her chest.

“I know,” Blake said. “I’m going to show you how to prevent it. When someone grabs your wrist like that,” he said reaching out and grabbing her, “you must act quickly. Don’t let anyone get the upper hand. Don’t think, act. When I grab your wrist I leave myself open to attack. Your legs are still free. So kick me hard, right in the stomach.” Ivy nodded. Blake released her and then he came back quickly, grabbing her wrist, but before he could pull her close she pulled on his arm and aimed a kick right at his solar plexus. It connected and Blake let out an “oof!” as he let her go. “Good job,” he said with an appreciative nod.

Her hit was nothing to him, but he was used to being hit. To the average man it would be quite the attack.

“Next time, when it’s not me. Aim for the balls,” he said with a smirk and Ivy nodded. “And remember the eyes. Someone has you in a headlock you use both your hands on their eyes. Don’t bother trying to fight off their hands. Go for the eyes.”

Ivy nodded and Blake moved on to other maneuvers. But with every new defense he found a new attack followed. There were so many ways for a smaller person to be overpowered. So much was given to the element of surprise. How could he ever truly prepare her for every threat that Darryl could bring?

“Do you smell smoke?” Ivy asked as she massaged the sore knuckles of her hand.

“Don’t try to distract me. We’re only just getting started,” Blake said with a smirk.

“I’m serious,” she said, looking around the gym. But she wasn’t the only one who sensed something. Heads in the gym were raised. People were looking about them, taking off their headphones and wondering at the commotion.

The fire alarm went off. It echoed loudly across the bare walls of the gym. And Blake winced as his ears became accustomed to the noise. “Let’s go,” he said as he took Ivy by the arm.

She grabbed her bag and together they joined the large crowd of people making their way to the exit.

“Blake, there you are!” Jamal said as he and Ivy stepped out of the parking lot. He hurried over to them and then glanced at Ivy as he spoke. “Can I talk to you, alone...”

“Why?” Ivy demanded. She knew the language that people spoke in. She knew when they were trying to protect her from something she was already well acquainted with.

“Your car...” Jamal said.

Blake took Ivy by the hand and together they walked to his car in the parking lot. There was a crowd of worried people around it. They were taking pictures and whispering to each other as Blake and Ivy approached.

He had all four tires replaced last night. But now tires were the least of his worries. All of the windows of his car had been destroyed, the front and back windshields, as well. The shattered glass was scattered over the blacktop and sparkling in the grey, rainy light. Across the hood of the car in garish yellow paint was one word: whore.

The sound of sirens calling from atop police cars and fire trucks could be heard getting ever closer. Blake walked towards the car, his feet crunching over the broken glass. He peered into the car, but there was nothing inside, only more broken shards of his windows.

“Someone set the fire,” Jamal said from Blake’s window. “I just heard from one of the cleaners. There was a trashcan filled with torn up newspapers in one of the bathrooms. Whoever did it surrounded the trashcan with dry towels. But someone got it with an extinguisher and put it out before it got too bad.”

“Darryl,” Blake said. It had to be. He glanced over at Ivy.

She was standing with her arms crossed as she frowned at the car. Her face was serious and her eyes were hard and Blake knew that she had moved past her fear of Darryl. There was no fear in her eyes, only righteous anger.

Chapter Forty

Ivy slept well that night. She shouldn’t have. Darryl had destroyed Blake’s car and set fire to the gym while she had been in it. He was becoming more deranged by the day and still the police couldn’t find him. He was broke and desperate and most likely living on the street. But still he eluded capture. Like a rat that could squeeze through any opening and kept managing to find ways to escape.

But after a day at the gym and a night with Blake, Ivy was beyond exhausted. She fell asleep in his arms, her head resting on her shoulder. She only woke once during the night. She had been in a deep, dreamless sleep when the faraway sound of an alarm going off woke her from her slumber. Blake was sitting up in bed, listening. He was tense and she could see the muscles on his back straining.

Ivy listened, too, but she could only hear that far away sound of a distant car alarm. “It’s nothing, Blake,” she whispered, reaching up to touch him. She put her hand on his shoulder and pulled him back down to bed. He lay on his back, but he was wide awake, his eyes staring at the ceiling. “Go to sleep,” Ivy whispered as she rested against his chest. She felt him slowly relax and then drifted back off into darkness.

In the morning there was still no arrest. Darryl was still out in the wild. But Ivy wasn’t worried. She liked to imagine him living on the run. The spoiled little rich boy who never had to want or work for anyone suddenly out on the streets. Was he cold, hungry, miserable? In the deepest most secret part of her heart Ivy hoped so. She hoped he knew what it was like to be miserable.

The fight was getting closer. Blake was in training all day, and Ivy was doing some work from home. He was still generating headlines and people were still desperate to talk to her, but she found ignoring their requests easy. Women’s magazine, serious magazines, talk shows, they all wanted to talk to her. But she wanted to talk to none of them. She knew that if she ignored them they would eventually stop. But she wasn’t the only one getting offers.

“GQ?” Blake demanded.

“Gentleman’s Quarterly,” Tim said. They were eating take-out food in Blake’s kitchen. Tim had come by to personally give the offer. “They want you on the cover, a photo spread inside, and a full length article to go with it.”

“That sounds like great news,” Ivy said looking between Blake and his manager wondering what the other shoe was and when it would drop.

“It is great news, very good. But, there is one thing you should know.”

“What?” Blake asked.

“It’s a sex issue. So, they will want to talk about you and the sex tape.”

Blake looked at Ivy, but she wasn’t sure what her response should be. Should she be embarrassed? Should she stop it? “What do think, Ivy?” Blake asked.

“I think you should do it,” Ivy said with a shrug. “I mean, the tape is out there, but it’s hosted illegally. People will have to do some work to find it. People know about it, so maybe there’s no reason to run from it anymore. Maybe instead of the sex tape being some sort of thing that punishes us, it can be something that helps us.”

“Ivy is right. People like it when celebrities have a sense of humor about themselves. Running from it and letting be a thing you’re embarrassed about will only make it more of a taboo and people will only talk about it more. Embracing it with a shrug and a wink is the best thing you can do.”

Blake drummed his fingers on the table. Ivy knew he was really worried about her. He would love nothing more than to be labelled an official sex symbol, a title he would wear with pride. She gave him a crooked smile and a nod. He had her permission. He could be a sex symbol; she had no problem with that because he was hers alone. She knew he would never touch another woman as long as they were together. She wasn't worried he would stray.

Whore. That was the word written on his car in jagged yellow spray paint. Darryl’s message. He thought it a taunt or something they should be ashamed of. He wanted them to hide their love away. But, instead, they would do this. They would embrace it. Blake would be a sex symbol and the tape something they regarded with a weary shrug. It was sure to drive Darryl to the breaking point.

“Do it,” Ivy said. “I think it’s a great idea.”

“All right,” Blake said with a shrug, “I guess I’m doing this.”

***

Ivy went back to work. She refused to let it be weird or awkward. She forced herself to walk with confidence and look at everyone she passed in the eye. She didn’t have anything to be ashamed about. She was dating guy who was about to be on the cover of GQ and the shallowest part of her loved it. She worked the entire day, catching up on emails to her clients and checking her deadlines. It felt good and it felt normal. Darryl, wherever he was, wasn’t this. He was probably hiding in some dank hole somewhere and Ivy still had her life; she was going to beat him.

“I want to see it,” Ivy said.

“Absolutely not,” Detective Diaz said as she crossed her arms. “It’s violent and deranged and nothing comes of you seeing it. If it goes to trial, you’ll see it then.”

“I deserve to see it,” Ivy said and she stamped her foot, unable to control herself, but still smart enough to know she shouldn’t shove a cop.

“Ivy, maybe it’s best if we don’t see it. They still don’t have Darryl-”

“That’s all the reason we should know!” Ivy said.

No one understood what she was feeling. They had found Darryl’s dark, dank hole. It was a motel about twenty miles outside of town. It was a decrepit old place with chipped paint and falling rafters. The rooms were rented out hourly to the truly desperate. But Darryl had paid in advance; he had been there for four weeks. Until he went to jail. He went forty-eight hours without paying and the manager opened the door. He expected to find a dead body in the bed, another overdose. But, instead, he found Ivy. Dozens of pictures of Ivy. Ivy walking around town, Ivy at the gym. Close up, long shots her face lined the walls. In some pictures her eyes were blacked out. In others there were large red exes over her eyes and mouth. It was disturbing.

The owner called the police and the manhunt picked up new evidence. They knew what car he was driving and they knew he was flat broke. He was going to do something desperate now. Whether it was hold up a convenience store or try to kill himself no one could say, but he would have to show himself soon.

Ivy had been able to see a few pictures of the evidence, but only a few. She wanted more. She wanted to go there and stare where he stood. Then maybe she could figure out what this monster had been thinking, she could finally understand why he had been so obsessed with her, or the idea of her.

There were guns, too. Three handguns and a sawed off shotgun and lots of shells. But the shells were scattered about the room like he had thrown them and the detectives were still counting. They had warned residents of the city to be on the lookout for Darryl. He was wanted, and very dangerous and citizens were advised to call the police and stay as far back as possible.

“But we don’t think he has any guns on him right now,” Detective Diaz said. They were standing in Blake’s living room photos splayed out on the table in front of them. “We don’t think he’s gone back to the motel since he was arrested. He didn’t have any firearms on him when he was taken into custody, so we’re hoping he stashed them all at the motel.”

“But why would he leave them there and not have any way to pay the motel if he got arrested?” Blake asked.

“He paid with one of those renewable gift cards. They’re like an untraceable debit card. People put money into the account and whoever has the card can use it. We don’t have access to the parents’ financials, but we think Darryl’s parents have officially cut him off and he’s run out of any reserves. He expected the money to be in the account and the room and all of its contents to still be there when he got out. But no money was put in his bank account, so none went to the card, and the motel room was officially unpaid for.

“So, he’s got no money, no one to call, nothing to sell, what’s he going to do?” Ivy asked.

“We don’t know. But we want you two to be as careful as possible. Try not to go out alone, always tell people where you’re going and when you expect to get there. Make sure someone is looking for you.”

Ivy felt Blake’s hand squeeze hers and she nodded at Detective Diaz. She was ready. Whatever it was Darryl wanted to throw at her. She was ready for it.

Chapter Forty-One

“I can’t believe they haven't caught this guy yet,” Tim said running his hands over his bald head. “Are you ready for this fight? You versus Rogers, the good old southern boy. Your mental game is good.”

“I’m ready for the fight and head is good. You’re the one that’s stressing out,” Blake said. He was prepping for promo shoot for the upcoming fight. He was shirtless in just a pair of loose red and blue boxing shorts, nothing like the the actual clothes they actually wore in the matches.

“Stand here,” the photographer instructed position Blake under the light. He didn’t really need to think for any of this; he was just a body.

“You’ve been training enough; you took a few days off?”

“You’re my manager and my lawyer, not my coach Tim. Don’t worry about my training. I’ve been working hard. I’m going to beat Rogers.”

“Ok good, because you are national news and this is going to be a big fight. Millions of people are going to watch; Vegas odds are going nuts.”

“Doesn't matter,” Blake said as he stared into the camera and the photographer snapped several shots before taking the camera to a different location.

“Why not?”

“Because every fight is the most important fight. The press doesn’t matter, the crowd doesn’t matter, the attention doesn’t matter, Darryl doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is to win.” It was like he had tunnel vision, but the good kind. He could see his opponent clearly and nothing else mattered. He would take Rogers down. He would win.

“Good!” Tim said, clapping Blake on the back. “And if your answer is ever different, we got a problem.”

“Can you cross your arms?” the photographer asked and Blake obliged, giving the camera a serious look.

He would have to look at these pictures a lot. It was strange to walk into a building and see your own face beaming down at you, but it had happened to Blake more than once.

“Take five!” the photographer shouted and everyone dropped their equipment and Blake waited in front of a white background.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking,” Tim said. “You and Ivy, you should go out tonight. Go get some air, let some people see you out together.”

“You told us to stay inside and away from the press,” Blake said.

“Yeah, but now that the charges have been dropped and you’re back in the fight and the whole stepsibling thing isn’t turning out to be a huge deal, I think it’s time people saw the two of you out and about like a normal couple.”

“We are a normal couple,” Blake said.

“No, you’re not. You’re an MMA fighter and she’s being stalked by one of the richest men in the country. You’re both a little outside of normal. But got out and pretend for me, okay?”

“I’m gonna take her out tonight. But not because you told me to, but because I want to.”

“Fair enough,” Tim said throwing up his hands as the photographer came back with a different set of sneakers for Blake to wear. “We’re gonna be here for a while,” Tim said.

“I tried on sneakers for three hours today and they were just for the photo shoot. I wasn’t training in them.”

He was leaning against the doorframe, watching Ivy as she put on some finishing touches in the mirror. She had put on and then taken off every item of clothing she owned before deciding on the second thing she tried on: a flowing yellow, knee-length dress. Her hair was blown out into soft curls and she was putting on mascara to accentuate her eyes.

“Poor dear,” Ivy said with a shake of her head. “What a horrible life you lead. It sounds so difficult.

“I’m just saying it was an excessive amount of time.”

The walked out together and got in an Uber. There were a few paparazzi outside their door and Ivy and Blake held hands as the photographers snapped their photos. They headed into the car and took off toward the restaurant. Ivy smiled over at Blake and rested her hand on his knee. He squeezed her hand as they rode in silence.

Blake realized he hadn’t really taken Ivy out on a proper date. Everything had been too crazy, between their parents and Darryl and Blake’s arrest it had all be just too much. But, now, they were getting the chance to really be together. Sure Darryl was still on the loose and the paparazzi were following them, but Tim was right; they were a little odd. Maybe there would always be something a little strange about their romance.

“If you could have any superpower in the world, what would it be?” Ivy asked Blake. They were sitting at a private table in the back of Canlis sipping red wine with a view to the Northwest.

“Flying, definitely,” Blake said. “What about you?”

“Being able to breath underwater,” Ivy said.

“That’s a good one. But wouldn’t you be cold in the water? Or would you only swim in tropical locations.”

“I don’t know...I never thought about it. It’s cold the higher you go up,” Ivy said. “Are you going to wear a down parka when you fly, or just stay closed to the ground.”

“Wow,” Blake said. “Looks like neither one of us thought this out.” He smiled across at Ivy who bit her lip and smiled back and then took a deep sip of her wine.

“How expensive was this bottle?” Ivy asked. “Do I have to drink like a lady or can I go to town?”

“Please,” Blake said refilling both their glasses, “go to town.”

“I can’t really tell the difference between regular wine and super fancy wine.”

“No one can,” Blake said. She smiled at him and he remembered what it was be like to have this rhythm with her. They had this ability to be totally in sync. They were on the same level; when one told a joke the other got it right away. Sympatico would be the word.

They ate their food. It was the chef’s tasting. There was no need to look at a menu. Instead one perfect dish after another was brought to them. Everyone now and then a curious person would walk past and give them a long glance as she or he tried to figure out who Blake and Ivy were.

Two paparazzi tried to enter the restaurant, but they were stopped at the door. Blake knew they were amassing outside like buzzards. But they were buzzards he needed. They were the one’s helping Blake and Ivy look good; they needed the press until Darryl was caught.

“What are you thinking about?” Ivy asked.

Blake smiled and said, “Just everything, but I can stop now.” She laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear and suddenly he wanted to touch her. He wanted to put his hands all over her. She was so beautiful and still after all of this time he was struck by her. “Now I’m thinking about how good you look.”

She smiled up at him from beneath her lashes. “Can we stay out after this?”

“We can do whatever you want,” Blake answered.

***

They drove to Blake’s favorite club and he held Ivy’s hand and walked past the long line forming outside. People gasped and some even pointed as they passed. He heard someone shout out “Ivy McCormick!” but he didn't stop or turn around. He nodded to the bouncer and without a word the bigger man moved the velvet rope aside and Blake and Ivy walked into the club.

The dance floor was lit up with Technicolor lights and a synthesized beat was flowing above them. Ivy pulled Blake onto the dance floor. In the crush and the crowd of people they were invisible. They moved together, Blake’s hands on Ivy’s hips, her hands on his shoulder and his neck and in his hair. They moved with the crowd and for a few hours they managed to forget about everything. They forgot about the fight, Darryl, their parents. There was only each other and the dance floor.

Chapter Forty-Two

They arrived home well after two o’clock in the morning. They danced and drank the night away. Blake held her hand as they hurried out of club and into a waiting car. The paparazzi were there, but Blake and Ivy were only in the open air for a few seconds. Ivy couldn’t believe this was her life. Partying and paparazzi. She had gone to college with friends who had wanted nothing more than to be famous, but not Ivy. She hadn’t understood that desire for attention and validation from strangers.

She couldn't deny it was fun running from them. They were like a couple of teenagers hiding around their high school and avoiding hall monitors. In the back of the car they laughed as the world spun a little in front of Ivy’s eyes.

“How do you feel?” Blake asked resting the back of his hand on Ivy’s cheek. “You’re all flushed.” His hand was cool and Ivy closed her eyes and leaned into him.

She wanted to feel his touch. It was crazy how much she still wanted him. No matter how much she got, she still wanted more. “I feel very good,” she said biting her lower lip. “I haven't had that much fun in a while.”

“Good,” Blake said.

Ivy licked her lips and crossed her leg letting her short dress slip down her thigh. She glanced over at Blake whose eyes were frozen on her exposed skin. She traced her finger from her knee up as Blake watched. There was nothing else they could do. This wasn't a limo; it was just a black car and the driver was right in front of them. She let her hand slide up a little more, bunching up the fabric and Blake adjusted in his seat.

“We’re close,” he murmured.

“I’ll say we are,” Ivy said with a smile as she looked out her window.

They arrived at the apartment to a barrage of paparazzi. Blake got out first and held his hand out to Ivy. Being careful not to expose anything, Ivy stepped out of the car and walked with Blake towards the door ignoring the calls that came from the sea of flashing bulbs. They contained themselves in the lobby as they waited for the elevator. Finally, with a quiet ding, the doors opened. Blake gestured for Ivy to enter first; he followed and pressed the button for his floor and the cold metal doors closed in front of them.

Blake turned on Ivy and kissed her, pushing her back against the smooth walls of the elevator. He took her wrists in his hand and pinned them to wall as he kissed her and she moaned and slipped her tongue into his mouth as her legs rubbed against his.

He released her when they arrived at his floor and she was grateful that the doorman hadn’t let any of the paparazzi sneak their way in. There was no one waiting in his hallway. They entered the house and turned off his recently installed alarm.

“Wait, right here, don’t move,” Blake whispered to Ivy. He moved with precision through his apartment. He knew all of the places a full grown man could hide and he checked them all in under a minute as Ivy watched. He was like a lion, moving swiftly and silently from one place to another, looking for prey.

Finally, he was done and with a smile he came back to her. With one smooth movement he put his hands on her ass and picked her up. Ivy wrapped her legs around his waist as they kissed. He walked back to the kitchen counter and put Ivy down on top. She kept her legs wrapped around his waist. She didn’t want to let him get away. She pulled at his shirt, quickly pulling it over his head and throwing it aside.

Blake’s fingers snaked their way up her bare thighs. She shuddered at his touch as her high heel shoes fell with a quiet clatter on the floor. His hands cupped her thighs and he grabbed her legs and pulled her closer. She could feel his erection through his pants where it pressed against her leg.

Ivy ran her hands around his strong stomach and reached down and grabbed his ass before coming back to his belt. She kissed her way along his chest as her fingers undid his belt buckle and loosened his pants letting them slip to the floor. He was wearing only a pair of boxer briefs and Ivy slid her hand over his erection where it pressed against the soft black fabric.

Blake let out a low growl and grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. He kissed and bit her neck and then pulled her off the counter and spun her around. He found the zipper of the dress and kissed the base of her neck as he slowly slid the zipper down, his thumb following stroking her skin and making Ivy sigh and push back against him. Her dress fell to the floor and he unsnapped her bra and removed her panties, letting them fall to the floor. Her wrapped his arm around her and traced his fingers over her her before slipping them easily inside of her.

She moaned and leaned back into him, grinding her ass against his erect penis still held back by his boxers. They left their clothes on the kitchen floor and walked towards the bedroom. Stopping every two feet to kiss and touch each other, they slowly made their way to the bedroom. Once inside Blake lay down on the bed and Ivy crawled towards him. She leaned down and kissed him and his hands reached up to massage her perfect breasts.

She broke the kiss when he pinched her nipple, but he was there again kissing her as she moaned and writhed against him. She was so ready for him. She wanted him. She needed him. She grabbed the waistband of his boxers and slid them off as his erection broke free and stood at attention. Blake took a condom and rolled it over himself.

Ivy took his cock in her hand and, straddling him, he easily slipped inside of her. Ivy cried out as he entered her. She was sitting straight up and she could feel every inch of him inside of her. She moved up and down and Blake reached up and took her breast in his hand and she threw back her head as they moved together.

His cock was stroking her g spot and Ivy cried at he sped up. Blake reached for her and pulled her down. He kissed her and held her close as he continued to thrust into her. His hands were running up and down her back and grabbing her ass, urging her to go harder and faster. She was getting closer; she could feel her orgasm building up inside of her.

“Blake,” she whispered and she pressed her forehead against his chest. They were moving together and she was going past the edge. She was so close; she was so ready for him. She cried out his name as she felt her orgasm rush upon her. Her body tensed and with one thrust from Blake Ivy was gone, screaming his name as she writhed around him. He grunted and urged her on and she continued to thrust against him until he finally held her tight and with one last thrust finished.

***

The next morning Blake brought her coffee in bed. It was a Saturday and Blake didn’t really have a traditional schedule, but he liked to sleep in on the weekends and so did she. It felt domesticated and normal, and, yet, this was the same bed he had senselessly screwed her in the night before.

Blake’s phone rang, the loud clanging ruining their morning peace. “It’s Tim,” he said.

Ivy watched his face as he listened and slowly his expression became happier and happier until he finally hung up the phone.

“What?” Ivy demanded.

“They arrested Darryl last night,” Blake said getting out of bed. Ivy followed behind him, her jaw dropped open. “He was trying to pawn an antique clock and got into a fight with the pawnshop owner. He ended up breaking a five-hundred-dollar guitar and he tried to leave but the pawnshop owner kept him there and called the police. He’s been in custody since one in the morning.”

“Are you serious? I can’t believe it!”

Blake opened his computer and pulled up the new site Tm had sent a link to. And there it was, Darryl in all of his mug shot glory. He looked terrible. He had a black eye and the thin beginnings of a beard. Only he didn’t seem capable of growing a real beard and instead there were just thin patches scattered about his face. His eyes had a hollowed out look and were bloodshot and rimmed with red. “He’s being charged with a lot,” Blake said as he skimmed the article. “It could total up to thirty years in prison.”

Ivy felt her stomach drop. She couldn't believe it. Darryl behind bars for thirty years? It seemed impossible that he would ever get caught now it was looking like he could spend decades locked away.

Chapter Forty-Three

“Two million dollars.” A paper slid across a dark Mahogany table, but no one reached for it.

“That’s insulting,” Tim said, refusing to even look at the offer. “And I would like to remind you that Ms. McCormick is not interested in taking an offer. This meeting is just a courtesy to your clients.” The Linden family had finally decided to come forward and deal with their son.

Mrs. Linden sat in front of Ivy. She was a stern looking woman with a permanent frown mark between her eyes. Her skin was saggy and grey, but her eyes still sparkled with life. She sat with her hand on a cane and anytime she wanted to speak she slammed her cane down first, an act that silenced everyone.

“Ms. McCormick could get three times that for the rights to her story alone. Did you really bring the three of us down here for this nonsense?”

Slam! Went the cane. “Enough. This is a matter of the law. Try to treat it with some dignity.” Her voice was still strong and it never shook. “Now, I understand that Darryl has been acting out. He did always need a rather exorbitant amount of attention. But things have spiraled to a dangerous level and it’s time for cooler heads to prepare.”

“So it was fine when he was nailing stuffed animals to my door, but guns and a cheap motel room are a step too far?” Ivy demanded.

“Yes,” Mrs. Linden said calmly. “The first was only a silly little prank. They were just little games on you. I don't know why you allowed him to get you so riled up. You must ignore him when he gets like this. He once left a dead hamster in my favorite hat. He was standing there when it fell on my head. I just took the animal threw it at him and told him to bury it and find some worthwhile way to spend his time. It worked. He never bothered me with that nonsense again.”

Blake stared in almost awe of this woman. He couldn’t understand how she could find such a strange story so very normal.

“Ignoring him didn’t make him go away,” Ivy said.

“Yes...well, I can see that. You must be a special case. But I am here now to make it go away. Name your price, girl.”

“My price?!” Ivy demanded.

But Tim turned towards her and lifted his hand to appeaser her. “Let’s think about this Ivy. This man has ruined your life. This would avoid a trial. It’s something to consider, but not anything we need to decide now.”

Slam! “Yes, now,” Mrs. Linden corrected. “This is a one time offer, name your price.”

“Your son has tortured me. He had stalked me and threatened me and made my life a living hell. I almost lost my job over him; it’s been impossible to live my life. He put a camera in Blake’s house and recorded us having sex and then uploaded it to the internet and you think money can make all that go away?”

“Well, if you had waited until marriage, the sex tape wouldn’t have existed. And I think you have a bit of a delicate constitution if my son has so easily rattled you. Now, your price. What is it? Let’s settle this now. I want you to drop the charges. I want a gag order in place so we don’t talk about this anymore, so tell me how much that will cost.”

Blake said nothing. His jaw ached as he clenched it to try and keep himself from saying something he couldn't take back. He looked over at the horrible old woman in her black dress and grey thinning hair. She was wearing makeup and he could see where the lipstick smeared on her aged and wrinkled face. Some people age gracefully slipping into old age with ease and comfort. But not Mrs. Linden. She wore blush to try and bring a flash of color to her pale complexion, and her lipstick was bright and gaudy. What was he saying? Money can’t buy class.

Blake glanced at Ivy and recognized the look on her face. It was pure determination. Mrs. Linden foolishly believed she held all the cards. She assumed Ivy could be bought. He imagined there were many desperate girls in her past who had taken the money simply because they needed it to live. But Ivy wasn’t like that. Ivy didn’t need the money. She wasn’t desperate. She had the Linden family on the ropes and she knew it.

“What I want,” Ivy said staring right into Mrs. Linden’s yellowing eyes, “is for your son to go to jail for a long time. I don’t need to take your offer right now. I’m going to take your son to court and have him sent to jail and once we’re done with that I’m bringing a civil action against your family. I’m going to get everything I want and your son is going to pay for what he has done to me.”

A horrified look came over Mrs. Linden’s face and she opened her mouth, but her lawyer put a hand on her shoulder. He whispered something into her ear and she seethed, but she did so silently. She wore a hideous expression on her face, one of anger and hatred and frustration. She stared at Ivy, but the younger woman stared back unafraid.

“Very well,” the attorney for Mrs. Linden said. He stood and she followed, but then they both stopped and the lawyer snapped his briefcase and looked at Tim before he spoke. “We’ve spoken with the courts and it’s been agreed that Darryl is unwell and should be sent to a private mental facility where he can be treated for his insanity.”

“What?” Ivy and Blake demanded. Ivy tried to stand, but Tim put his hand on her shoulder and she remained in her seat.

“Darryl is a psychopath, but he isn’t insane,” Tim said. “He knew what he was doing. He deliberately wore gloves so he wouldn’t leave fingerprints and he had alibis set up. He paid people to help him. What judge would give him an insanity plea?”

“A good judge,” Mrs. Linden said. “One who understands the pressures someone like my son suffers.”

“The pressure of getting whatever he wants and never working a day in his life. What kind of pressure is that?”

“A difficult one you would never understand,” she replied with a sniff.

Tim stared daggers at the other lawyer and said, “So, what? An old family friend? Someone you’ve given money to? That’s how you’re keeping him out of jail. How long do you think that will last? Darryl is a pariah and the public doesn’t want to see him in some cushy, private institution; they want to see him in jail where he belongs. I’m getting the insanity deal overturned and I can’t imagine it will take me long.” He looked at Mrs. Linden and continued, “You might have bought him a few days in a cushy place, but he’s going to spend a lot longer in jail. No minimum security either. He is a violent felon and I won’t have any problem proving that to a jury.”

Mrs. Linden and her lawyer left, the loud click of her cane against the hard floor trailing behind her. The door closed and Ivy, Blake and Tim remained at the table.

“Can he really plead insanity?” Ivy demanded.

“He can certainly try,” Tim said with a shrug. “But he’ll have a hard time proving it. For an insanity defense you have to prove that the perpetrator didn’t understand what he was doing at the time.”

“But Darryl knew exactly what he was doing. He went to so much trouble to hide any evidence that he was the one stalking Ivy.”

“Exactly, and that’s what will be his undoing. He’s created a horrible paradox for himself. The care he went to avoid leaving evidence is all the proof the DA will need to overturn an insanity plea. He’s screwed himself over.”

“What about this facility he’s at, the private one, can he leave?” Blake asked, reaching for Ivy’s hand and squeezing it. But there were no tremors in her limbs and no tears in her eyes. She had moved past being afraid. But not Blake; he was still so worried about her, still so afraid Darryl could find a way to get to her and hurt her.

“I’ll look into it. But most likely they’ll have strict security measures in place. Besides, his own people will want him to stay there. With any luck they have him medicated and unable to much more than sip juice and watch television in a bathrobe. You don’t need to worry.”

That was easier said than done. How was Blake not supposed to worry about a mad man harassing and stalking his girlfriend? His connections had allowed him to be released from prison and who was to say how far those connections go. He could still flee the country; he could still come after Ivy. The only way Blake could possibly stop worrying was if Darryl was behind a set of very strong bars.

Chapter Forty-Four

“Rich Boy Goes Free”

“Linden Family Uses Connections So Son Can Avoid Jail Time.”

“Questions Raised When Judge Connected to Linden Family allows Son To Avoid Jail.”

Ivy read the headlines and couldn’t help but smile at them. Her sex tape had faded from the internet’s consciousness. People were far more concerned with the fact the Darryl had conned his way into a cushy institution. There were calls for the judge to be removed from his bench; there were cries of corruption, nepotism and favoritism.

Pictures of the fancy institution where Darryl had been sent were front page news. Beautiful suites with televisions and four posters beds and claw foot bathtubs, it looked like a fancy hotel, which is basically what it was. It was a place where the wealthy went to treat the addictions under the guise of being treated for “exhaustion.” There were protests outside of the facility as dozens of people demanded to know why a violent law breaker was living better than most hard working citizens of the city.

Ivy didn’t quite know what to make of all it. All of these people she had never met were fighting for her or, at least, fighting for justice on her behalf. She had been so worried about what would happen when her name entered the press. She was terrified of people rummaging through her personal life for their own entertainment. She would never have expected this. That other people would rally to her side and fight for her.

Tim had released a statement thanking everyone for their support and promising to go after Darryl to the full extent of the law. Their court date was a still far in the future. The DA was gathering all his evidence. He was determined to see Darryl see actual jail time; there would be plea deals offered, but each one came with a minimum five-year sentence.

Ivy wondered what Darryl was thinking and planning in his fancy room at the asylum. Was he planning to flee the country? Was he planning to fight the charges? All Ivy knew was that she hadn’t seen or heard from him since he had tried to set the gym on fire and destroyed Blake’s car. One last violent gasp from Darryl before he was finally captured.

She didn’t look over her shoulder anymore. She didn’t check the backseat of her car before entering. She didn’t check the apartment for intruders. She let her mace sit in the bottom of her bag. It felt good. The sun was brighter; the air was fresher. Everything was better. She felt like she could walk with her head high and face anything. She had worried the sex tape ruined her, but, instead, in some strange way, it only made her more powerful.

Blake was at the gym training. She was surprised at how hard he worked. Entire days spent in the gym. Hours and hours of weightlifting and sparring and jogging and he still came home with energy for her. He never skipped a training session, never slept in or tried to get out of it. It was hard work and he loved it and she loved him for how hard he worked.

Ivy was still in bed. Sipping coffee and reading the headlines as she snuggled down into Blake’s thick comforter. She needed to finish moving in. Not that she had much, a great deal of her possessions had been covered in red paint and were ruined. She didn’t miss them as much as she expected. Now that she had someone so strong and stable in her life, she didn’t feel like she needed much more.

She was sitting back against the pillows reading about the many ways that the judge could be removed from his bench when she heard a rattling noise coming from the hall. She looked with concern towards the door. Was Blake home already? Had he forgotten something? He should have called; Ivy would have brought it to him.

She stepped out of bed, wearing a short pair of shorts and simple t-shirt. Ruffling her hair, she padded to the living room and saw the doorknob jiggling. For a moment she was frozen in place. Something was wrong. It wasn’t normal. Whoever was on the other side of the door wasn’t using a key.

Ivy’s eyes went wide and she took a step towards the door, but then she froze when she heard a click. The lock was undone and the chain was hanging, dangling from the door, swinging back and forth as the door was pushed open. She took a step back, but she had nowhere to go.

Darryl stepped calmly into the room and closed the door quietly behind him. Ivy was frozen in place. She felt ill, like she was going to be sick. She was frozen and shaking at the same time. She took a shuddering step back and Darryl smiled at her as he looked around the apartment and then smiled at her.

“I’ve missed you, darling,” he said. There was a gun resting on her hip and Ivy stared at it in open-mouthed horror.

She looked up at him and didn't know what to do. She wanted to beg him to leave her alone. She wanted to launch herself at him and strike him and hit him. But in reality, she could do nothing and she stood frozen in he living room. “You...you’re supposed to be in an asylum,” she sputtered at him.

“I left,” he said with a shrug, “Got bored in there. Nothing to do. I heard you said no to my mother’s very generous offer. She was trying to help you, Ivy. You should have let her.” He looked unwell. He was wearing clothes at least two sizes two big and there were bandages on his hands and arms. His hair was long and messy and he was thinner. His aquiline profile had gone from handsome to gaunt in the time he had been on the run. Heavy bags sat under his eyes and his hands shook when he gestured with them.

“Your money can’t buy me,” Ivy said.

“No, you are very principled and very noble and blah, blah, blah. But mostly what you are is annoying.” His voice took a dark tone. “You ran to the press and your high school ex-boyfriend/stepbrother and ruined our game. I hope you’re happy.”

“This wasn’t a game for me. This is my life and you were ruining it,” Ivy screamed at him. Was he really that self-absorbed that he only thought about himself and his own amusement. Did he ever think about anyone else, ever?

“What about my life? I had it all planned out. We were going to be very happy and have a lot of money and you ended things with me and then what was I supposed to do? I had a plan, Ivy. A good one and you ruined it.”

Ivy glanced quickly towards the kitchen where she knew knives and other sharp items waited, but Darryl saw her and he quickly put himself between her and the kitchen. He was equal distance between the kitchen and the door; if Ivy tried to make a break for either he would grab her. Ivy stared at him. Why was he here? What did he want? She didn’t know what to do. Could she run past him?

“Come here, Ivy,” Darryl said, taking a step towards her.

She moved backwards, her whole body shaking. Darryl was walking towards her with slow, patient steps, like she was a cat he was trying not to spook. But Ivy was smarter than that. Without any hint of what she was going to do, she darted back towards her bedroom, Darryl ran to follow her, but she was too fast and she entered the room slamming the door close and locking it behind her

“Ivy!” Darryl called, through the door, his voice had a teasing quality to it, but it was undercut with danger. “Open the door, dear. I just want to talk to you.” Ivy didn’t respond. She grabbed her cellphone and called Blake.

It rang once and then twice and from behind the door Darryl began to try and turn the knob. She could see that he was pushing against the door, trying to push it open. The phone rang a third time and, thankfully, Blake answered. “He’s here,” Ivy whispered into the phone. “He’s in the apartment.” From behind her came a loud bang and she knew Darryl was throwing himself against the door. There come another loud bang and, to Ivy’s horror, the door was already starting to give.

“I’m on my way. Did you call the police?” Blake asked.

“No, I’m in the bedroom, he has a gun, but he’s trying to get in.” She was crying now and the tears that blurred her vision were frustrating her; she needed to be able to see.

“Ivy, I have a gun.” Ivy stomach dropped as she heard the words. “In my closet in a safe, the code is 2292, go there now and open it.” Ivy took a step towards the closet when from behind her there came a loud crash. She twirled around and saw Darryl as he finally broke the door down and strode into the room.

He walked over to her and Ivy tried to back away, but he was on her before she could move. He grabbed the phone from her hand and dropped in on the floor and stomped it on the floor. He was right in front of her and without thinking Ivy reared back and let loose with a punch that landed right on Darryl’s left eye.

“You bitch!” he screamed as he backed away.

But Ivy was relentless. She swung a kick at his middle and it connected and she followed up with another punch to his face. Her knuckles were aching and bruised and bloody, but she wasn’t going to back down now.

Ivy reared back to punch him again, but he was ready that time. He grabbed her arm and brought her close and then with his other hand he grabbed her by her hair. Ivy screamed as Darryl slammed her against the wall and then he threw her out of the bedroom and into the living room.

Ivy was dizzy, her head aching, and she struggled to her feet, but Darryl kicked her in the stomach and she cried out as the kick laid her out on the floor. She was on her back and she looked up at him and he was looming over her. Her vision was going in and out and she could hear her own loud breathing in her ears. She struggled to move; she tried to raise herself, but he pushed her down. Her entire body was screaming in pain. Her eye was swollen almost shut and her wrists and knuckles were in agony.

Darryl smiled down at her as he pulled his gun out of its holster and lazily pointed it at her. Ivy stared at the gun. She didn’t want to die. It felt like she had only just started to live. How was this happening? They had come so close. She had felt so safe and now he was here and he was winning. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She scrambled back and away from him, but Darryl followed her.

He raised a hand to his eye and wiped away a spot of blood she had drawn. He looked down at in almost in confusion and then looked back at her. “I thought you were a sweet girl, someone kind and generous. But you’re just another slut like all the rest.”

He aimed the gun at her. She stared down the barrel into the black hole that was so soon to take her life. A tear slipped down her eye for everything she would never have and everything she would never get to do. She stared at Darryl as he aimed and then to her right the door burst open and suddenly, Blake was there.

Chapter Forty-Five

It was his worst nightmare laid out in front of him like some sick and violent painting. Ivy splayed out on the floor, splattered with blood and Darryl standing over her with a gun in his hand. His entire life had been a grand preparation for this moment. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t pause. He ran at Darryl. He swung his gun towards Blake, but he was ready. Blake grabbed the barrel of the gun and pointed it towards the floor as he brought his head back and then slammed it forward.

Blake headbutted Darryl. The other man cried out and his grip loosened on his gun. Blake grabbed it, reared back, and punched Darryl hard on the left temple. He punched him again and again until Darryl finally fell back on the floor—unconcious.

Ivy was on her feet and stumbling towards him and she fell into his arms as he held her tightly against him while he watched Darryl to make sure he didn’t move.

“Are you all right? Are you all right?” he asked, but he spoke swiftly and she nodded as she leaned against him and sobbed into his chest. He heard sirens outside. “The police are here. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered as he ran his hands up and down her back and tried to stop her shuddering and sobbing.

The police poured into the room and ambulances were called as a dazed Darryl was placed in handcuffs and was led out. Blake and Ivy watched him, still holding each other close. He gave one last angry look back at them, but it bothered them not. He was nothing more than a petulant child. He had no more power over them. He had gone too far and the state would see to him now.

***

“Does it look bad?” Ivy asked as she looked in the mirror, turning this way and that. There was a large purple bruise over her right eye. It had gone down somewhat in the last few days, but it still looked painful and was a mottled purple and yellow color.

“Don’t worry about it,” Blake said as he walked up behind her and kissed her neck. “It will fade soon enough and it won’t leave a scar.”

She looked at him in the mirror as he traced light kisses up her neck and she smiled softly towards his reflection. Together they faced the throng of reporters and protesters outside of the courthouse. Cameras and boom mics pushed into their personal space as Blake held Ivy’s hand and guided her into the far quieter courthouse. This wasn’t a trial; it was a sentencing. Darryl had pled guilty. Now all that was left was to see how long of a sentence he would get. The prosecution was asking for twenty years; the defense was asking that Darryl be sent back to the mental institution he had escaped from.

Ivy had her day in court. She sat on the stand and told the judge everything. Every horrible terrible thing Darryl had ever done to her. There was evidence piled up in front of him. Blake watched her, he encouraged her with her eyes, he told her anytime she became nervous she should look at him and remember he was always with her. A few times in her testimony when words failed her she looked over Blake and with a deep breath she was able to continue.

His co-conspirators and the various people he had paid to help him came forward and spoke against him. In the end there was no one to speak for Darryl. The defense had only a lone psychologist claiming wealth had corrupted him and he was just as much a victim as Ivy.

Blake watched the judge as the psychologist gave his ridiculous and paid for testimony. But through raised eyebrows and frowns the judge showed that he was less than interested in what the man was saying.

Blake sat next to his mother and next to her was Jonas. He hadn’t spoken to the other man since their last confrontation and neither had Ivy. But he was here and that was all that mattered. When Ivy was done she came back and they all sat together and waited. As the evidence was counted, the judge left to deliberate and the room was emptied.

Outside they stood at a street vendor and sipped on oversweet coffee. Blake stood off to one side with his mother while Jonas turned to face his daughter. “I’m sorry,” he said looking down at his coffee. “I’m sorry about what I said about you and Blake. Blake is a good lad and I’ve always liked him. I just...Ellen and I have talked about it a great deal and I just wanted to apologize. You are both adults and if being together makes you happy I won’t stand in the way of that.”

“He does make me happy,” Ivy said taking Blake’s hand. “Very happy.”

“And he protects you. A father couldn’t ask for anything more. I only hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course, Dad,” Ivy said. She put her coffee dad and the father and daughter walked towards each other and embraced.

Jonas held Ivy in his hands and they stood like that for a moment as the rain fell lightly around them. Weights were being lifted from from Blake’s shoulders. Darryl was in jail, Ivy and Jonas had reconnected. Things were falling into place. All their trouble, all of the things they had been through. Was it possible that soon it was all finally be over?

When the judge declared his sentence a tear slid down Ivy’s face. Fifteen years in prison. She wiped the tear away and smiled at Blake and they hugged as Darryl, in his handcuffs, was led away. Blake watched him go and breathed a final sigh of relief. He was gone and Ivy was here. It was over, it was finally over. They were safe and happy and could be together.

Chapter Forty-Six

Ivy gave a half-smile to the cameras that kept zooming to her face. Every now and then she would look up at the large screen and she would see her own face looming over her. Her blush would creep up on her cheeks and she would quickly look away hoping the camera could find someone else to put on the screen. She refused to do anything interesting; she still hated to be on camera.

The crowd was loud to the point of deafening. People were talking and shouting and standing at their seats. Next to her Ellen and Jonas were talking quietly to each other. It was one of the strange things where you could only hear someone if they were whispering. The big fight. Ivy wasn’t quite prepared for how big it was.

The arena sat ten thousand people and it was filled. Every last seat was taken up by someone. There was a large VIP section where celebrities and politicians mingled and sipped champagne and ate canapés. The air was festive. There was a live band playing and confetti fell from the ceiling like snow.

In front of her on raised dais was the cage where Blake would fight. But it didn’t rattle her like it used to. She knew there was nothing to be frightened of in there. Blake could handle himself; she had seen that first hand. Darryl had been standing over her with a gun and Blake hadn’t hesitated. He had disarmed him and beaten him easily. Blake versus a man with a gun and Blake walked away unscathed. She felt bad for the man who was about to fight him. He had no idea what he was in for.

He could handle anything and so could she. He could go into that ring and win or lose and it wouldn’t matter. It was the fight itself that mattered. It was about strength, about who had worked more and Ivy finally understood that. No one had worked harder than the two of them. They had gone through hell and come out the other side stronger for it.

The lights went down everyone took their seats as the announcer took to the middle of the cage and an old-fashioned mic was lowered down to him. He took the microphone and with a big smile he intoned, “Ladies and gentleman! Tonight, it is the fight to end all fights.”

Ivy smiled at the announcer as he spoke. This wasn't the fight to end all fights. That had happened in Blake’s own home and he had already won that battle.

A spotlight fell on a door towards the back of the arena and when the announcer called Blake’s name the noise became truly deafening as the crowd jumped to their feet and cheered for Blake. He came out of the locker room wearing a pair of blue shorts and a blue robe with hood pulled up over his head. He looked serious and stern as he marched down the aisle ignoring the many people who reached out to him to touch him or pat him on the back.

He strode up to Ivy and when he passed her turned and gave her a smirk that she returned. He strode up into the cage and let his robe fall revealing his well-muscled frame. Let the fighters come, Ivy thought with a smile. Blake was going to win; she was sure of it.

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I grew up in a small town outside of Palm Coast, FL. Raised in a house just a short walk to the beach, I enjoyed the peaceful, relaxed atmosphere and friendships that come from being raised in a friendly, small town area.

I now reside in Breckenridge Colorado, where I work as an accountant, along with my night time writing. I am married with two children, two dogs, and a pile of friends and family dotted all over the country that help keep me sane.

If you liked my work, please join my mailing list and you will receive a free sexy short that I wrote just for my email subscribers!

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And here is the description of the short story so you know what you're getting into!

He arrives on his screaming machine, but it's his body that ends up screaming for more - of her

Jessica Mallet is about to leave her florist's when Eric Burns' bike trundles into her parking lot with every intention of parking there all night.

When Eric takes a flaming rose and hands it to Jessica, it's enough to make her forget her responsibilities, enough to forget where she is and what's appropriate.

The thorns prick her goose bumped skin but that's nothing compared to what her body aches for--that moment when Eric removes petal after petal and lets the real flower inside her blossom...

Mason

I’m a heart-breaker, a lady-killer

Mason

I’ll be your prince charming for the night, but come morning, you best get the f*** out of my bed.

Then I met Caroline, and everything changed.

One taste of her and I’m hooked.

One taste and I know I had to have more.

She thinks I’m a monster. The last thing she needs.

But that’s not going to stop me from making her MINE.

Caroline

I hate bikers. Especially Mason Butler. Handsome looks and all the tattoos in the world aren’t going to hide what he is underneath.

A monster.

A monster who tied me down in his bed...

… and left my throat throbbing and raw from screaming his name.

A monster who’s just getting started.

A monster who won’t stop until he makes me HIS.

OJW Conversion -

Cover

Copyright © 2015

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mason