Surviving Ice (Burying Water #4)(107)

My throat grows thick with a sizable knot. “And now?”

“Now . . . they got what they deserved. Both for what they did to Royce and your uncle, and for the things they’ve done to others. They won’t be a problem for you.”

I turn to look at him. “Did you . . .” I let my voice drift. Do I even want to know? Is knowing this safe for me, given who he is, what he is? “Don’t answer that.” Maybe they did deserve it. I don’t even know how to begin wrapping my head around that.

The only thing I’m sure of right now is that when Sebastian strolled into Black Rabbit and settled that deep, dark gaze on me, he knew that there was a chance he’d have to kill me.

And he still charmed me with his smile and his looks. Made me care about him.

How can I possibly ever forgive that? How can I trust him again?

I can’t.

My eyes start burning. “I need you to leave.”

“Ivy, I—”

“Get out.” I pull my covers tight around me, hoping for comfort that I know I won’t get.

Easing off the bed, Sebastian moves for the door. “Everything I’ve told you tonight—”

“Don’t tell a soul or you’ll have to kill me, right? Something along those lines?” My voice is hollow.

Sadness fills his eyes as he stares long and hard at me. “That’ll never happen.” He slips out quietly.

I manage to hold the tears until the door clicks shut.

“Why don’t you just call him?” Dakota says through a sip of coffee.

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Liar.”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“Use mine.”

“I don’t have his number.”

His number is in the phone that’s smashed on a San Francisco street somewhere. That’s probably a good thing right now. It’s been five days since I sent him away, and I miss him. I shouldn’t miss him. I should hate him. I should be terrified of him. But I’m not, because I’ve only ever felt safer with him.

I sigh. “Everything’s f*cked-up right now.”

“Really? That’s not how I see it. Your house is fixed and ready to be painted. You’re going to stay in San Francisco and run your own tattoo shop. You have an amazing roommate who adores you, and you have a gorgeous, nice guy who’s crazy about you.” She grins. “Sounds pretty perfect to me.”

“I think you’ve forgotten a few details . . .” I haven’t divulged anything about Sebastian to her. I’m no idiot. That kind of information goes to my grave. Hopefully it’s a long time before I find my way into it.

Either way, Dakota knows that something monumentally bad has happened over the last few days. She’s wiped away enough of my tears to figure that out.

“Not the important ones.”

I spear her with a glare while I munch on one of her baked squares, secretly hoping it’s loaded with hash so I can shed this melancholy for a few hours. I’ve become the girl I can’t stand, and I couldn’t be bothered to do anything to change that.

I’m brokenhearted over a guy and yet completely miserable without him.

“Hey, D! Where do you keep the sweetener?” Bobby hollers from the kitchen.

I groan, my head falling back. “Why him?”

She giggles. “Why not?” To him she says, “The cupboard next to the fridge.”

“You realize he’s a criminal, right?”

She winks. “I like to walk on the wild side sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Dakota is the wild side.

She reaches over and pats my knee. “Cheer up. I don’t like seeing you so despondent. It’s concerning.”

“I’m just very . . . confused and conflicted. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.”

She purses her lips. “Forget about how you’re supposed to feel and focus on how you do feel.”

I feel . . . like I want to see Sebastian again, so badly. “But what if how I do feel is wrong? What if it’s a bad idea?”

“Does it hurt anybody?”

I frown. “Well, no. I don’t think so.” Except maybe me, and my heart.

She shrugs. “Then I don’t see how it’s wrong, or a bad idea. Besides, you’re not usually the type of girl to worry about those kinds of things. Why start now?”

Bobby saunters into the greenhouse in nothing but jeans.

I avert my gaze with a sigh. “This house is getting way too small, too fast.”

“You sure didn’t seem to mind when you had your guy here.”

I climb out of my seat, both to free it up for him and to get dressed for a day of painting at the house, so we can get it on the market. And then I have to decide what I want to do about Black Rabbit.

And here I thought I had decided already . . .

“Yeah, well.” I slap his protruding belly. “The view was slightly different.”

“D likes this view.”

“That’s right, I do,” she says with a playful voice.

“As much as the view of Sebastian in the shower, D?” I throw over my shoulder.

“What the hell were you doin’ in the shower with him!” Bobby says, his voice suddenly full of irritation.