Wicked (A Wicked Saga, #1)(85)

"Hey," he murmured softly.

My heart was pounding in my chest again, but for different reasons. Nausea turned my stomach. Back before I lost my family and Shaun, I hadn't thought my days with them were numbered. It hadn't crossed my mind, but things were different now, because our days were not infinite, they were most likely numbered down to one day.

Wednesday was a haunting shadow that never truly faded away, and I knew it was the same for him. After all, why else had he asked me to stay the night? There was a chance that we were going to see a lot of death—we might not even come back from it. Ren might not survive.

Panic seized my insides, sinking its bitter claws into my skin. I couldn't do it—couldn't face the soul-crushing grief again, and if things with Ren carried on—hell, even now, losing him would have a shattering impact.

I sat up, tugging my shirt down so my lower half was covered. Oh God, I really had screwed up—f*cked this up. I wasn't supposed to let him get close. We couldn't be normal. Order members didn't have normal. Out of everyone, I knew that, and here I was, in bed with a guy who could very likely die by the time the moon rose tomorrow.

"Hey," he said again, following me. "What's wrong?"

"I . . ." In the back of my head, there was a part of me telling me to stop, to take a deep breath, but acid filled my mouth. I needed to get out of here. This was a mistake. "I have to go."

"What?"

Tossing my legs off the bed, I stood and headed for the dresser. I stopped halfway, but didn't see my panties, and decided I really didn't need them.

"Whoa. Wait a sec, Ivy. What's going on?" Ren was off the bed, hitching up his bottoms. "Talk to me."

I grabbed my jeans off the dresser, tugging them on without looking at him. "I just need to go home. That's it."

"Okay. That's so not it. You were fine, f*cking sweetness in my hands a couple of seconds ago, and now you won't even look at me." Ren came toward me, and I backed up, bumping into the dresser. A look of confusion poured into his face. "What the hell?"

Turning away, I pulled his shirt off and slipped my bra and shirt on faster than I ever put clothes on in my entire life.

"Did we move too fast?" he questioned, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I reacted, born out of a keen sense of desperation. I spun around, swiping my arm, knocking his aside. "Don't touch me."

He took a step back, hands at his sides. Concern filled his emerald gaze. "Okay. Can we just talk for a second?"

"There's nothing to talk about." I started for the bedroom door.

"Did I hurt you? Dammit, Ivy, answer me. Did I hurt you somehow?"

Pushing my hair out of my face, I shook my head. "No," I croaked, turning to the bedroom door. "You didn't hurt me. Not yet." I pulled on the handle, found it locked, then cursed under my breath. Unlocking the door, I threw it open.

"Not yet?" Ren followed me into the living room, staying back a distance as I sat, grabbing my socks and shoes. "Baby, I would never hurt you. Why would you—?"

The words burst out of me, coming from a dark place I tried to stay away from but could feel myself slipping into. "You wouldn't mean to. You'll promise me that everything will be okay, and then it won't be because you can't control it."

His brows knitted as he moved to the other side of the coffee table. "Ivy, I'm not following you."

"It doesn't matter." I slipped my shoes on and stood, swiping the stake off the table and shoving it in my back pocket. I pulled my shirt down to cover it.

"Let me get dressed. I'll take you home, okay?" he reasoned gently. "Just give me a couple of—"

"No! No. I don't need you to take me home. I don't need you to do anything, all right? You're a great guy, but this—whatever this is—isn't going any further. This was a mistake."

Ren straightened as he eyed me. "Dammit, Ivy, what the f*ck is going on? This was a mistake? This morning was anything and everything but a f*cking mistake."

I wrapped my fingers around the handle, heart racing, and I stopped for just a second, my throat burning. "Maybe for you it wasn't," I said and then walked out.

As I crossed the hall and hit the button for the elevator, part of me expected, maybe even hoped, that he'd come after me, which was so sick and twisted. But the elevator came, and as I stepped inside, the door across the hall didn't open.

Ren didn't come after me.

The elevator doors slid shut and I backed up, hitting the wall of the elevator. I smacked my hands over my face, smothering a raw sob. I pushed it down, I pushed it all down until there was nothing.

Until I felt nothing.





Chapter Nineteen





Tuesday was a f*cking mess and a half that went from shitty to shittastic in a matter of minutes. I tried to get a hold of Val, but she wasn't answering her phone, and I thought about calling and dumping all of this on Jo Ann, but she had a pretty packed schedule on Tuesdays.

Tink was still holed up in his room, and the only reason I knew he was in there was because he had The Cure and Morrissey on repeat, and I was about to lose my ever loving mind if I had to spend another second in my apartment.

After showering and changing into fresh clothes, I still couldn't get rid of the scent of Ren or the taste of him. What we had done this morning, what I'd done . . .