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Why didn't I see it then? Why didn't I notice how fucking uncomfortable she looked?

The more I thought about that moment, the more I saw. Remo became upset at one point, slamming his fist on the table, and Ivy jerked in her seat.

At the time, I didn't recognize what it was, but now I did.

It was fear.

I had ignored that, or was blind to it, at least, because of how fucking gorgeous she is, and how much I wanted her. That night was when I realized she should be mine, not his. And that was where my focus was.

Jealousy had traversed my bones and turned me wicked. Hating Remo even more than I already did.

Her shoulders were bare, the dress she had on scooped down in the front, her breasts pillowing up over the edge. And as she sat there so unaware of my roaming eyes, all I wanted was her.

That was the reason I didn't want to be a part of this job from the beginning. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to control myself. I was afraid I'd lose it and just steal her away. And if she needed to die, I didn't want to be the one to do it.

Now everything seemed more complicated. I had to make this deal work to keep her alive. My father wants her dead and, from what she says, so does Remo. If not now, he will later.

What the fuck does he have her for?

Why does she desperately want to stay away from him?

I figured out myself from what little she said that they didn't have a regular relationship. He had her, but she wasn't his, yet they were still together.

What does that make her?

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, I held the railing and listened. It sounded quiet, her feet weren't patting around the floor, she wasn't screaming or yelling in frustration.

But I needed to be careful. I knew what she did after dumb and dumber walked in, she had it in her to do some damage.

Walking up the steps, I tried to do it as quietly as possible. As I stood at the door, I brought my hand up to knock, then stopped myself. She wasn't a guest here, she was my hostage.

I have to keep my head straight! She's a fucking hostage, a captive, a tool for us to use. That's it!

She can't be mine.

And I shouldn't care what she is or isn't to that piece of shit.

Unlocking the door, I threw it open and stood just outside the entrance. But nothing came, no crazy swing from some object she gathered, no gorilla sized scream followed by flailing arms. The room was dark and silent.

Peeking my head in, I glanced around and noticed a lump on the bed. Making my way to the bed, I felt the bump and it deflated under my hand.

Where the hell is she?

Nervously I looked around until I spotted her laying on the floor.

Ivy was splayed out on the wood, her body limp, breathing ragged. Running to her side, I knelt down and shook her. “Ivy—Ivy!” Scooping her up in my arms, I laid her down on the bed.

Brushing her hair back with my fingers, I felt her face. She was breathing hard, sweat had beaded up on her forehead, but it was cold to the touch. I wasn't sure what the hell was happening to her, but I had to do something.

Running to the bathroom, I turned on the cold water and dampened a face cloth. As I sat beside her on the bed, I pressed the cool cloth to her skin and tried to get her to wake up. “Ivy, wake up. Come on, Ivy, wake up.”

Quiet moans started to make their way out, her head rolling gently on the pillow. Her eyes were fluttering behind her lids, opening to slits then closing again.

Fuck! What the hell is wrong with her?

“Come on, Ivy, open your eyes,let's go, open them up.” Giving her cheek a delicate slap, I shook her again. “Ivy,” I said anxiously as the nerves began to stretch around my brain and turn me frantic. “Ivy, wake up!”

“Hm?” she asked, blinking and starting to come around. “What's going on?” Opening her eyes wide, her muscles went rigid and shot her up straight. “What's going on?” she asked again, confused.