Blake: A Bad Boy Romance (23 page)

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.