FIGHT FOR ME (12 page)

“I hope you call me when you’re sober,” she said quietly and kissed his cheek. He was breathing deeply and softly.

She got in the car and began to drive home.

What a strange and uncomfortable day so far.

She was no longer upset with Lucas. He clearly needed some time to deal with whatever was going on in his life right then. She wished dearly that he would include her in his life at all levels, but for some reason he wasn’t able to.

What had he been talking about? Someone from his past? How he always does something bad on this day? Was he saying that getting drunk and talking to her was the mistake he had made this year?

She really had no idea.

Mentally exhausted from thinking in circles and trying to make sense of her situation, she pulled up in front of her sister’s apartment building and got ready to explain what had happened to her somewhat conservative mother.

* * * *

“He doesn’t sound like marriage material,” her mother said once she’d explained the events of the past few days in detail.

“Mom! I’m… I’m not even thinking about that at all. He’s my boyfriend, and things are getting really weird.”

“They are,” Jess agreed. She had poured herself a large glass of wine and had the bottle next to her on the coffee table, even after both her mother and Ivy had declined. “I can’t believe he showed up here drunk.” She took a sip of wine.

“He’s… having issues.”

“Apparently,” their mother said, raising her eyebrows.

“Guys, you aren’t being very positive about this.”

“I don’t see anything to be positive about. I think you should get him out of your life.”

“Mom! Ivy, I think he really likes you and everything will work itself out. Just don’t worry about it in the meantime.”

Ivy nodded. She decided that her sister and mother wouldn’t be the best sources of advice for this situation. She took a deep breath and let the stress of the situation leave in her out breath.

“Can I have a sip of that?” 

“Sure.” Jess handed Ivy her glass of wine. Ivy sipped it, savoring the flavor.

“This is good wine.”

“I know. Mom picked it out.”

“Oh, did you?”

“I happen to know my wines, girls.” The elderly woman leaned back into the couch. “A good wine got me through many a disagreement with your father.”

“What? Do you mean you gave him the wine? Or you drank it?”

Their mother shrugged.

“Okay.” Ivy laughed.

“You and dad have been together for so long,” Jess said quietly. “Married for thirty years, right?”

“Give or take a year, yes.”

“And you never,
ever
talked about getting divorced?”

“No,” their mother said. “We love each other very much and though we have disagreements there’s really no way we would be any good by ourselves in the world. We’ve grown to be natural companions. I wouldn’t know what to do without him after thirty years of sharing a life.”

“Wow,” Jess said, looking at the deep red liquid in her glass. “I wonder what it would have been like to be married to Nikolai for that long.”

Ivy shared a look with her mother. This was the first time Jess had mentioned Nikolai all day.

“I wonder,” Ivy said, filling the silence that had fallen after Jess’s statement. “I’m sure you would have been very happy.”

Jess looked up at her and smiled bitterly. “Yeah. We would have been.”

Their mother put an arm around both girls and pulled them close. Ivy noticed that she smelled of lavender hand crème, just as usual. “Whether the man you love is close or far, alive or dead, a lie or a completely solved mystery, it’s never simple. Feelings are incredibly complicated and there’s no way to go throughout life like it’s a dream. Just trust that there can’t be only sad, terrible periods. You
will
have periods of dreamy love. It’s just the way life works.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Ivy said a little sarcastically. “Thanks for your wisdom.”

“I don’t want another period of dreamy love,” Jess said, wrinkling her nose. “I think I want to be alone my whole life.”

“No, you don’t,” their mother said.

Ivy felt herself drifting off to sleep against her mother. She could imagine a similar scene twenty years ago, her and her sister snuggled against their mother and falling asleep.

“I’m going to go talk to Lucas tomorrow,” she said, her eyes drifting shut.

“That might be a good idea,” she heard Jess say.

“Something is really wrong, and even if he can’t or won’t tell me about it, I want him to know I’m there for him.”

“That’s sweet,” she heard her mother say.

“Can I go to sleep like this?” she asked, though she was really more just letting them know she was going to sleep like this.

“Of course, sweetie.”

Ivy drifted off to sleep with an image of her going to Lucas’s house the next day and solving every problem between them. She knew she just had to tell him how much she cared for him, and everything would be fine.

Chapter Seventeen

The next morning Ivy didn’t feel quite as optimistic, but she still knew she needed to confront Lucas.

“Mom, Jess, I’m going to go check on Lucas,” she said as she pulled on some jeans.

“Do it, honey. Make sure he didn’t choke on his own throw up during the night.”

“That’s a disgusting and completely inappropriate thing to say,” Jess said as she rolled over on the blowup bed that took up almost the entire living floor. “You’re lucky Emma is still asleep.” Jess sat up in bed. “Are you making pancakes?”

Their mother leaned over the partition. “Yes, I’m making pancakes, but your sister here won’t get any because she’s going to check on her strange alcoholic boyfriend…”

“Mom,” Ivy said.

“I’m sorry, hon, I hope things work out between you. I really do.”

“Thanks,” Ivy said and headed for the door with her keys. She left her phone on the couch. “I’ll be back soon, I think.”

“Have fun,” Jess grumbled and pulled the blanket back over her head.

Ivy felt oddly calm as she drove to Lucas’s house. She thought she would be nervous about what he would say –what secrets she would learn –or if he would even say anything at all. But she mostly just felt determined to get things straight between them. He needed to know how she felt. She needed to know how he felt.

And what the fuck was going on.

She was ready to face his demons.

Now a little apprehensive, she pulled into his driveway. She noticed that a slick black car was parked in front of his house but didn’t think much of it until a man got out of the car and walked up to her, standing between her and the front door.

He seemed to be in his forties. His dark hair was speckled with grey and slicked back. He was wearing a dark suit of smooth fabric that looked extremely expensive. His face was thin and his ice blue eyes looked at her appraisingly. He said nothing.

“Um,” Ivy said. She wondered if he was from the IRS or something. “I’m here to meet the guy who lives in this house. Would you mind stepping aside?”

A small smile played at the man’s lips. “You are Ivy Robins, yes?” He had a slight accent that seemed more like a result of extensive travel rather than English being his second language.

“Yes,” Ivy said, wondering if she should be volunteering that information in this situation.

The man took a step forward. Ivy started to feel afraid. She took a step back.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, laughing softly. “I’m… a business associate of Lucas’s.”

“Oh?” What did that mean? “Does this have something to do with whatever happened a few days ago?”

The man cocked his head. “Yes,” he said after a moment of looking thoughtful. He extended a hand to her. “I’m Alain, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She shook his hand. His grip was strong.

He didn’t let go.

“Excuse me?” she said, a little panicked.

He started to drag her toward the black vehicle.

“Please let me go,” she said, trying to remain composed. “What’s going on?”

“I meant it when I said I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said. “So please do not be alarmed by what is about to happen. Igor! Vinnie!” Two muscled men in suits came out of the car. Each one took Ivy by the arm, one on each side and held her still.

“Lucas!” she screamed.

Alain wiped his hands on his suit jacket. “It won’t do any good screaming for him,” he said. “I happen to know that he never wakes up before noon on this particular day.”

Ivy struggled as the burly men pushed her into the back seat of the car. The interior was dark and cramped. It smelled like new leather. The men slipped into the back of the car on either side of her.

She could barley move.

Alain started up the car.

“What the fuck is going on?” Ivy asked, trying to keep her voice calm but completely failing.

“This has very little to do with you,” he said as he pulled onto a main road. “Igor,” he said expectantly, as if issuing an order he had previously explained in great detail.

The man on her left took a cloth out of the front pocket of his suit and held it to her mouth. She bit at his hand and tried to cry out again, but soon found that she was unable to move. Then her vision rapidly deteriorated and she lost consciousness.

* * * *

She awoke in a very uncomfortable position sitting on a chair. That was all she could tell at first.

Slowly, she regained full consciousness. Her eyes opened and feeling spread into her limbs. She looked around.

All she could see was gray concrete stretching for almost a hundred feet in front of her and a small, rusted metal ventilation fan creaking high on the concrete wall across from her. Golden sunlight streamed through the opening in the wall. It was well past noon.

      She craned her neck around and gathered that she was in a huge, empty warehouse.

She tried moving further but could not. Her wrists were bound to the chair at her lower back.

      “Hello!” she called. Her words echoed faintly throughout the huge warehouse.

      “Help me!”

There was silence for a long moment. She craned her ears for any sound.

She could just hear the eerie creaking of the industrial fan high above her.

Faint footsteps echoed through the building, but she couldn’t see anyone. A door creaked open behind her. From the volume and length of the creak, it sounded like a large door. However, since she couldn’t turn all the way around, she couldn’t see it.

“Hello?” she asked. She had a strong feeling that it wasn’t someone come to save her.

She was right. As the footsteps grew louder and the owner of them grew closer, Ivy knew she could see them if she turned her head. She did so and saw Alain. She shrunk back into her chair.

Lucas’s business partner? She tried to figure out what was going on as her mind started to clear. She could think of a few options. Lucas was involved in the mafia, some sort of strange corporate trouble, or perhaps in the FBI or CIA… Or maybe a drug or other crime syndicate other than the mafia?

Ivy swallowed.

Alain came to a stop in front of her. He had a slim, black flip phone in his hand. He flipped it open, then shut, and then open again as he surveyed her.

His gaze felt like an absolute violation. His unabashed ice blue eyes disturbed Ivy to the point she felt like it would be dangerous to protest.

When he moved his gaze to the phone in his hand, it felt like a relief. Ivy let out a ragged breath. “What’s going on?” she asked for the umpteenth time, not really expecting an answer but not knowing what else to saw.

Alain looked back up at her from the phone in his hand. “This is what is going to happen. I’m going to call Lucas. I’m going to talk to him for a moment. Then you are going to talk to him. You may tell him anything about your current situation. You will have only a few moments. Then, I will take the phone, disconnect the call, and we will wait.”

The way he said it made it sound like a surgery.

Ivy now had an idea of what was going on. She had been kidnapped in order to force Lucas to do something. She was leverage.

Alain dialed a number on the phone. It rang a few times. Ivy could hear the tinny noise in the silent warehouse.

Lucas picked up. She could barely hear the low timbre of his voice.

“Ah, hello, Lucas.” The man didn’t pace or barely move while talking on the phone. It unnerved Ivy. “Do you remember what I asked of you?” There was a brief silence. Alain raised one immaculately groomed, dark eyebrow. “Yes, I do have her. How astute of you. … Good question. I would like you to come to the warehouse –you know which one –your very first –and compete for me. One last time. … You win this fight,
Panther
, and I’ll leave you alone. I request all your profits, of course.”

Ivy blinked, trying to understand what she was hearing. Had Alain just called Lucas “Panther?” And talked about fighting? She tried to fit the pieces together. All she could picture in her mind was some strange Fight Club scenario, but that didn’t seem right. You didn’t get money from that. Men like Alain weren’t involved in fight clubs.

“Yes, I have her right here. She’s fine for the moment. … Yes.”

Alain handed her the phone.

Her heart beat painfully. “Lucas,” she breathed.

“Ivy,” he said. His voice was not the calm, composed, and soothing voice she was so used to. He sounded terrified. “Ivy, are you okay? I found your car in my driveway with the door open. I told you to stay away, Ivy, I told you…” He trailed off.

“I’m… okay,” she said slowly. Alain watched her carefully as she spoke. “Just tied to a chair in a warehouse. Lucas, they fucking kidnapped me. They took me outside your house and knocked me out and
kidnapped
me.”

Lucas didn’t answer at first. “I know,” he said. He sounded defeated. “I’m going to get you out of there.”

“What’s going on?” she asked, though by now she could predict the question would be futile.

“I can’t explain now,” Lucas said. Even him.

She heard rustling and the starting of an engine. “I’ll be there in a few hours. Just do whatever Al –Alain says. I’m serious. I’ll be there in a few hours.” He seemed to realize he had repeated himself and she heard him take a deep breath over the phone. “I’m sorry, Ivy,” he said. “This is the last thing I wanted to happen.”