Torn (A Wicked Saga, #2)(12)

“Obviously you need one, so could you try to use some common sense and just say yes, Ren, I’ll be happy to join you tomorrow night?”

I wanted to say that. I also wanted to say a lot of other things. I chose to say none of it. “I don’t need your permission. You do realize that, right?”

Ren shoved his hand through his hair. “I’m not trying to be an ass.”

“Well, you should try harder, then.”

He stared at me, and I could tell there was a lot he wanted to say, but like me, he kept that pretty mouth of his shut for a moment. “Whatever.” He turned and switched off the light.

“Finally,” I muttered, flipping onto my side and giving him my back.

He ignored that as he shifted back down onto his side. A moment passed, and then I felt his arm around my waist. He dragged me back against his chest. “Just think about what I said, okay?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “Ivy?”

“Okay,” I whispered, lying, because I’d already made up my mind even though I felt terrible about it.

~

I was walking out of the bedroom Sunday morning when there was a knock on the door. A shadow moved past the window near the porch, heading down the steps. I immediately had a sinking suspicion of what it was, and glanced down the short hallway toward the kitchen.

Ren easily stepped around me. “I’ll get it.”

“You know, I can do that.”

He kept going. “I’m just being a gentleman.”

“More like he’s being an overprotective bully,” Tink commented from where he suddenly appeared in the hallway. “I was hoping you’d be gone by now. Alas, Queen Mab and your God both hate me.”

I shot Tink a look that said shut up. Things had been a little tense between Ren and me this morning, and he was not helping.

“You know, if you weren’t actually the size of an overgrown rodent, your opinion might actually matter.” Ren opened the door. “What the hell? They deliver on Sundays, too?”

I peered over his shoulder and sighed. “Yep. Tink, it’s for you.”

“Me? All for me?” Tink buzzed into the living room. As he got closer, I realized he was wearing an Elf on the Shelf sweater, and yeah, I wasn’t even going to question that. He bumped into Ren’s arm. “Excuse me.”

Ren tipped his head up and stared at the ceiling, exhaling slowly. Tink screeched when he saw the packages—there were four of them. One large box and three smaller boxes. Knowing how Amazon packed their stuff, I figured there was either something ironically small in the big box or there were ten things shoved into it.

“You going to stand there or actually be helpful?” Tink demanded. “Pick up the boxes for me?”

“Tink,” I snapped.

“If I pick up those boxes,” Ren said, “I’m pitching them into the courtyard.”

Tink jerked back, smacking his hands against his cheeks. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I’d so dare.”

“Oh Jesus,” I muttered, stepping around Ren. I picked up the boxes and carried them inside, dumping them on the couch.

“Careful!” shrieked Tink. “There could be priceless, fragile items in there.” He spun in the air as Ren was closing the door behind him. “And you! You made a lady carry boxes inside.”

I rolled my eyes.

Ren exhaled heavily. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“So?” Tink hovered in front of the couch, his wings furiously beating the air. “I’m rubber and you’re glue!”

Ren turned to face the little guy. “What?”

“Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you!”

Ren stared at him and then slowly shook his head as he turned back to me. “It’s like living with a two-year-old with the mental capacity of a fifteen-year-old boy.”

My lips twitched, and I turned to hide my grin. Ren didn’t stay long, and by the time afternoon rolled around, I was sitting in my chair in the bedroom, lacing up my boots. The apartment was oddly quiet. Tink was sulking in his bedroom, because he knew what I was about to do, or he was playing with the stuff that showed up today. Ren was still at his place, doing laundry or listing all the reasons why he wanted to strangle me or poison Tink, and then heading out to work.

Which was why I was slipping a dagger into one boot and carefully hooking the thorn stake into the other. Getting back out there to do my duty wasn’t the only reason I wanted to return to work so quickly. Besides feeling like I was going to murder someone (most likely Tink) if I stayed in this apartment a minute longer, I also needed to find Valerie. It was Sunday, and while I doubted she’d stick to a normal routine, I knew what she typically did on Sunday evenings.

There was a good chance that I’d run into Ren, but I’d cross that pissed-off bridge when I came to it.

I stood up and straightened the loose gray shirt I wore. It was long, coming to my thighs, and it successfully hid the stake I had secured to my hip. I made a pit stop in the bathroom and leaned onto the sink, studying my face in the mirror.

The bruises on my left side had faded dramatically, and the concealer had done wonders with covering what remained. A touch of lipstick camouflaged the mark on the center of my lip. Good chance that would be an actual scar.

I left my hair down just in case people looked too closely and realized I was hiding a mess of a face. Maybe I shouldn’t care about that, but whatever. I wasn’t the best-looking thing out there, and I had no idea how I’d really snagged Ren’s attention, but I didn’t want to look like a walking accident victim.