Fighting Fate (23 page)

‘No,’ she said, but it was too late. The burst of bliss cascaded throughout and the spasm of her intimate muscles clamped his invader in place.

He cursed and huffed, and slapped the side of her ass with his hand, but still she couldn’t let him go because the vice of pleasure was wringing every drop of her worth into holding onto him. Letting him go now could mean letting go of him forever and her body didn’t seem to be willing to do that.

‘Fuck, babygirl! Fuck! Fuck!’

She couldn’t tell if his words were of pain or pleasure but the heat of his DNA filling her up from the inside betrayed that he’d gone over the cliff as well. Sparkles on the inside of her eyelids joined the ones pulsing in her head and the ringing in her ears. Lying here on her back, she was dizzy, like her blood pressure had just plummeted through the floor. Just as her muscles loosened, they contracted again and the aftershocks of orgasm left her twitching and squeaking as he tried to retrieve his probably bruised dick from the prison she’d locked it in.

The bed bounced when he collapsed onto it beside her, but he didn’t touch her. Ivy’s eyes were still closed so she didn’t even know if he looked at her. Lost in their own ecstasy of what had happened between them it took Ivy a while to come around to replaying how they had ended up locked in that mess, or rather what had proceeded the pleasure she’d tried to deny herself.

Opening her eyes, she let her head flop to the side. Dax was staring up at the ceiling without expression on his face. ‘What now?’

‘Get some sleep,’ he said, without moving. ‘You’re gonna need it.’ Reassured that meant he wanted to rekindle their intimacy she was going to liberate her smile, and then he spoke again. ‘Trystan will probably want to play with you for most of the night.’

Her smile evaporated as did all feelings of goodwill. Endorphins retreated and the weight of pounding panic returned. Bucking up, he got off the bed and she watched him stalk out of the bedroom without giving her another thought, or worrying about how his words might affect her.

She had lost him. He was going to turn her over to them; at least that was what she understood from what had transpired. She wasn’t going to go quietly, Ivy had no intention of going at all. Leaving the bed she headed for the shower, determined to figure out the steps that she would have to take next.

Ivy got washed and changed into the only clothes that she had. She didn’t have any money, so she went hunting for Dax’s wallet. Seeking out his jacket, she found it hanging in the closet. It was when she stuck her hand in his pocket that Dax walked into the closet.

‘What are you looking for?’ he asked. He must have used the other shower while she was in the ensuite because his hair was still damp and she could smell his soap. His clothes were clean too, so he must have dried off and changed as well.

‘I need some money,’ she said with no intention of hiding what she was doing. ‘We’re married, right? What’s mine is yours?’

‘What do you need money for?’

‘I need a change of clothes and transport.’

‘For what?’

Unimpressed by his lack of expression, she tried to match it with her own. ‘Did you think I was going to hang around and let you hand me over to them?’

‘I didn’t ask what you wanted. I told you what was happening.’

‘That Trystan wants me in his bed? Thanks but no thanks, you know?’

His wallet wasn’t in his jacket and so she went to what looked like a laundry hamper in the corner to see if she could find his jeans from earlier in the day, sure enough they were there, so she began to search in them.

‘You’re not walking out of here,’ he said.

‘What are you going to do, Dax? Hmm?’ Throwing the jeans back in the hamper she moved to him and reached around to pat his back pocket. ‘Bingo,’ she said, snagging the wallet to tug it out of its confines. He didn’t stop her from taking it and when she opened it she figured out why. ‘Twenty bucks, that’s all you’ve got?’

‘It’s enough to buy you some condoms and get you to the street corner.’

‘Funny joke,’ she said, taking the money anyway. ‘Yeah, I’ll start whoring myself, ‘cause after being with you what’s the difference, right?’

‘You used me to get what you wanted, why not do it to some other poor schmucks out there?’

‘You know, I can’t figure out if you actually mean this bullshit you’re spouting or if you really are going to let your daddy issues wreck our relationship.’

‘What relationship?’ he asked.

She wasn’t going to let him blame her for things taking this turn. He’d been fine before he saw Mauri and now things were all fucked up again. ‘I’m getting out of here, this is all some sick, twisted bullshit.’

If his head was so fogged by the Starks then he would comply with Mauri’s demands and take her there tonight. Eventually he would realise his mistake, she hoped, but by then it could be too late. If Trystan had laid so much as a pinkie finger on her, Ivy knew that she would never forgive Dax for throwing her to the wolves. It just wasn’t in her. Ivy knew that she could hold a grudge, it wasn’t always healthy, but it was the truth.

Managing to swan past him, she kept the twenty flat in her palm. ‘Where are the car keys?’

‘You’re gonna steal my ride too?’ he asked, coming out of the closet to trail her through the bedroom.

‘Consider it division of marital property,’ she said, holding open her other hand. ‘Where are the keys? Come on, hand them over.’

‘I switched it out for the bike after I left the mansion,’ he said. ‘Do you know how to ride one of those?’

She never had, though she could figure it out if she had to. Her hand fell to her side and she matched his look of angry satisfaction with her own. ‘Maybe I’ll find myself a pimp who gives out perks with the job.’ Dax had accused her of using sex for her own gain, thus branding her a hooker when she had done nothing to deserve the moniker.

‘Like a company car?’

‘Or a private jet,’ she said, bobbing her brows.

‘You’re not that good, honey.’

‘And Mr. Smart Ass Tough Guy is back, I think I’ll take a pass on spending time with him. You know how he can be,’ she said, spinning to make a beeline for the door.

‘He tends to be right,’ he said, his voice following her into the entryway. ‘You’re gonna learn when to keep that mouth shut, Minx!’

‘Unlikely,’ she said and turned the handle to open the door, but it only got an inch. His hand came over her head and thrust it back into its frame.

‘You’re not going anywhere,’ he said and she rotated to glare up at him, trapped in the confines he set her in again. One of his hands was above her head, his forearm resting downward, then his other hand touched the door by her hip and his body came in closer.

‘What are you gonna do?’ she smirked. ‘Are you going to hurt me, Dax? Are you going to use your mad skills to beat me? Pummel me with your fists until I’m drowning in my own blood.’

His chin moved and she saw fury mate with disgust and his eyes grew narrower. ‘If I have to,’ he whispered like the words tasted foul on his tongue.

Closing the last inch between them she pushed onto her tiptoes to get as close to him as she could and sear her own disgust into him. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she whispered. ‘You wouldn’t lay a finger on me in anger, you never have.’

‘I’ll drag you through to that bedroom and spend the afternoon whipping your ass until you can’t sit for a week.’

‘And if I told you to stop?’ she said, but she already knew the answer and that was what made this anger flickering back and forth between them all the more upsetting. Their love was still there but he couldn’t handle that, he couldn’t make the choice to turn his back on people he thought he owed a debt to. ‘If I told you to stop, you would. If I told you that I was in pain, you would cure me. You would never see me hurt, Dax.’ She softened slightly. ‘And that’s why you’re going to let me walk out of this place now. Because if you don’t then you have to take me to them and you know they’ll never let me walk out again. Let me leave now, or spend the rest of your life knowing that I’ll never forgive you.

‘You love me, and you hate yourself for that because you know it means disappointing the only person you’ve ever really respected or admired. I wanted to fight for this. I married you because I wanted to make it work. But you have to be stronger. I thought you were stronger. I can’t make the decision to commit for you, only you can do that and if your commitment lies with them then this will never work.’

‘You’re staying.’

‘Then you have to turn me over to them, are you prepared for what that means?’

It was easier for him to believe the lie because it gave him an out and getting rid of her would make all the problems in his family go away, at least as far as she was concerned.

Their locked gazes didn’t flinch and cool frost cracked around his irises. She wanted to see them soften and hear him whisper to her that he was going to take care of it, for real this time, and how nothing would make him give her up and he’d never let them hurt her. But he wasn’t going to say that, it was in his eyes. The Starks gave him his identity, they made him who he was and everything in his life was tied to them.

Sure, he had his own place, and his own life. He even said that he’d worked for other people. But the Starks had been there for him, loved and sheltered him, when no one else had and as far as she knew they’d never made him apologise for being who he was. Asking him to turn his back on them, for her, was too much.

‘You let me go now and make up some excuse about me sneaking out while you were asleep, I promise you that I won’t make a fuss. It’s that or you take me to them and watch Trystan, and maybe some of his men, torture me. I don’t care how much you say you resent me or how much you imply that I lied to you. If you have to watch me swallow his spunk…’ His eyes closed slowly and so she didn’t finish the thought.

His hands slid down the wood in a grating slide and he took a single step back giving her enough space to fumble behind her back for the door handle. It clicked out of place and she began to sidle around it when he opened his eyes and spoke.

‘Keep your head down, Minx.’

‘I plan to,’ she said and before he had the chance to change his mind, she slipped out of his apartment.

As soon as she was out of there she wanted to go back in and pretend like nothing had happened. But it had and she knew that she had done the right thing. Yes, she loved Dax and they were still married. But until he realised what it was to be without her and to look at the Starks in a new light, he would never be ready for them to be together.

Certain that Dax would change his tune given some time she went down the stairs and out of the front door onto the sidewalk. She knew where to find him and she wouldn’t forget this place in a hurry. For now she would leave the state, and maintain a low profile, because she didn’t want to be drawn back into the Starks’ world unexpectedly.

Not chancing a glance upward, she slunk into the first alleyway she came to in order to get out of sight of the apartment, and its balcony, as quickly as possible. When she was safe and out of view, Ivy stopped and glanced down at the twenty dollar bill still in her hand. Sliding it into her other palm she looked at what had been nestled under it, the key to Dax’s storage unit, and possibly the key to understanding how to unlock the man.

For now she needed money, transportation, and a change of clothes. The twenty would get her most of the way to the storage unit, if she remembered where it was correctly, and she could walk the rest of the way. In that garage was water and transport, and maybe even a change of clothes.

She didn’t feel guilty about taking the key, or taking advantage of Dax’s belongings in it, not only because he was her husband but because she knew he wanted her to be alright. The worst thing that could happen was that he came looking for the key, to challenge her for it back. This gave Dax the excuse he needed to come and find her, and while she held this, she still carried a piece of him with her. 

Midnight came and went and Dax still wasn’t at the mansion. He was on his way, sort of, it wasn’t like he was hiding out. Waiting for the meeting had made him edgy, so he had decided to go the bar and hang out with the crew. Only a few minutes after his arrival Dax acknowledged that being social wasn’t what brought him here, booze did.

When it came time to leave for the meeting, Dax realised that his plan had one major flaw, now he was too wasted to drive. Good sense told him that he shouldn’t dare go near his bike, but he still made himself rise from the couch in the corner of the back room where he’d been observing his men enjoy their evening, with every intention of going to Mauri’s.

Staggering towards the door, he tried to blink away his double vision and hoped it wasn’t evident to the others just how intoxicated he was. It had been years since he’d got himself drunk enough to know it affected his performance, and now he regretted making the decision to pick up the Scotch bottle. But that wasn’t the only thing he regretted tonight.

Reminding himself of what had gone on at his apartment made the angry urge to drink resurface. Pausing to gather himself, Dax rested a hand on the doorframe and let it slide upward as his head dropped. He’d been an idiot, a complete and utter idiot. Mauri had told him that Ivy played him and he’d just jumped on it, unable to believe that such a dynamic woman could want anything to do with him beyond sex.

Dax had only ever been worth what someone was willing to pay for him, and that was the sad truth; he was the whore he accused her of being, he was the one prostituting himself. He sold his skills to the highest bidder and panted like an eager dog for Mauri’s praise and acceptance along the way. And maybe that was the true reason for his drinking.

He was a coward, it was nothing more complicated than that; he hadn’t wanted to stand up to Mauri. Ivy gave him ample opportunity to make this right, she was patient, and now he had lost her.

Mauri didn’t want things to change. Well, he wanted Trystan to change, and Ivy was the golden ticket, the miracle cure who was supposed to make that happen. Except she wasn’t Trystan’s miracle cure, she was his.

Bringing his fingers into a curl against his palm, he drew back his fist, ready to take out his frustration on the wall. But someone stepped in and got hold of his arm. Dax’s impulse was to fight the guy, but he didn’t have his wits about him so when the guy pulled him out of the room and into the corridor Dax just fumbled along, losing the will to fight. If someone wanted to kick the shit out of him, he should probably let them, it would be karmic retribution.

Instead of a punch, he was just thrown back against the outer wall, and again he found himself blinking, except this time it was the pulse of pain in his skull that he was trying to get rid of.

‘You’re not getting on the bike.’

‘No choice,’ Dax said, lying his head on the concrete behind it to hold it up and bring this interfering person into focus. It was Serg.

‘You got a choice,’ Serg said. ‘The cops pull you over when you’re in this state and they’ll keep you.’

‘Who gives a fuck?’

‘You got product on you?’

Dax could barely remember getting to the bar let alone if he’d been working before or after getting here. ‘Maybe.’ He wasn’t going to expend the energy checking his pockets.

‘Then a lot of people care. You gonna tell them where you got it?’

Once again Mauri was being prioritised over everything else. ‘Get off me, man,’ Dax said, giving his colleague a full body shove. Catching his footing, he carried on toward where he thought he remembered leaving the bike.