Page 13 of Fractured Loyalties

Thirteen

ROMAN

Ivy doesn’t leave her room for the next twenty-four hours. I’m sure I’ve fucking traumatized her, but why the fuck would I let some dipshit with an ego like Kade’s take her into the corner of the library in my goddamn house?

It was blasphemous.

Also… She wanted me.

She’ll get over it, and I guarantee she’ll come crawling back to me for more. I just have to give her time to come to terms with the fact that my cock is what brought her to ecstasy.

It wasn’t fuckboy Kade.

I drum my fingertips along the leather steering wheel in the SUV, waiting for my passenger princess to show up for her ride to school. As I do so, I decide I have to hope for the best—but of course, I’ll expect the worst. That’s what always happens to me.

Before I have any chance to think about it further, the door is ripped open, and a blast of cold air slaps me across the face. Ivy climbs into the seat, red in the face. She’s hugging her backpack to her chest as if it’s some kind of shield.

I hate to break it to her, but nothing can protect her from me. Especially not after I got to feel her tight little cunt for the first time. My cock is already throbbing, just at the first whiff of her shitty perfume.

“Good morning, Ivy,” I hum, leaning back against my seat and turning my head toward her. I smile at her, but I’m pretty sure it’s closer to just baring my fangs.

She swallows audibly, tucking a stray lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. It takes her a few beats to find her voice, but when she does, her entire face darkens behind her perfectly airbrushed makeup. “You’re disgusting.”

I sigh heavily. “And you’re still a corrupted little lamb underneath all that paint on your face, baby. You’re just in denial.”

“Don’t call me baby,” she seethes, not even reaching for the seatbelt as I punch the gas of the car, catapulting us out of the circular drive and towards the school. “What you did… What you did was so… wrong .”

“You didn’t seem to think so when you were coming all over my cock,” I say the words sweetly, shrugging my shoulders.

“You’re my brother ,” she snaps.

I can’t stop myself from laughing. “Oh, Ivy,” I glance over at her, meeting her angry little glare. “You are not my sister. You’re just Irena’s daughter, and I’m fairly certain that doesn’t count.”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she shifts her backpack higher and, for the next two miles, her silence is almost a physical thing, radiating off her skin and into the cab of the car as if it were a toxin.

I try to enjoy it, honestly. My father always said there’s nothing quite like the aftertaste of a woman’s hate.

But I have to admit, it doesn’t quite settle all that well with me.

Still, I can’t keep my eyes off her. The morning sun shines through the windows and lights up her face. Her jaw is clenched tightly enough to break her teeth. Her little fists are white-knuckled on the nylon straps of her bag…

But there’s something else there. Something beneath all that.

“You know, you could just talk about it instead of bottling it all up,” I say, my voice coming out way softer than I intended. I’m almost embarrassed as she turns to me.

Then, she starts to cry.

Oh shit. This is not the kind of crying I put up with.

I’m not equipped for this. Not the wet streaks running down her face or the way her voice comes out shredded as she tries to apologize. I glance over, expecting the sort of controlled drama I’m used to—hysterics with an audience, crocodile tears, the whole poor me routine. But… this is not that.

Ivy’s shoulders are shaking too hard for her to be pretending, and her backpack is balled under her jaw as if a life preserver. She’s either going to burst an aneurysm or cry herself out before we even make it through the next intersection.

I start to tell her to knock it the fuck off, but the words crack before they leave my throat. I forget, sometimes, how soft real grief is until someone shoves it in my face.

“I miss him so much,” Ivy sobs, fresh tears streaking her perfectly done-up mascara. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be in this shit hole.”

Well, damn. This is complicated.

I pull off into a random parking lot and put the SUV in park, facing the street.

She’s probably going to be late for school now, but I don’t really know what else to do at this point.

I can’t send her into Woods’ Private looking like this.

She’d be slaughtered. And I’m the only one who gets to do that to her.

“Why did you stop?” Ivy sniffles as she presses herself into the corner of the seat and the door, putting as much distance as she can between us.

It actually hurts something in my chest… But maybe that’s just my still-healing ribs.

“Look,” I rake my fingers through my hair, disheveling the slick back job I did this morning. I stupidly reach for her, and she lets me leave my hand on her knee. “You need… You need to get your shit together. It’ll get easier.”

Her jaw drops, and I realize she’s taken it all wrong. “Are you fucking kidding me? After what we did?” Fresh tears slip down her cheeks.

I purse my lips, desperate to make her feel better. “I get it, I’m the villain here. That’s fine, but also… I think we… I think we might be all we have.” I say the words plainly, and honestly, I wince a little at the pain on her face. I let out a sharp breath.

That’s when I realize that I want her to feel better. And I’m fucking it up.

“Ivy,” I try again, closing my eyes for a split second. “I’m not sure if you know this… but… I lost my mother, too.” I open them then, meeting her gaze.

There’s nothing there except a hint of curiosity.

“I also lost my younger sister and my older brother,” I keep going, forcing out truths that I don’t really want to share with her—with anyone.

“How?”

“How?” I repeat her question back to her, not sure if I can go down that road. It might actually traumatize her more than my dick did last night. Fuck.

“You can tell me…” Her voice trails off, and just as I open my mouth to speak, my phone blares, the ringtone signaling just how tight the leash my father has on me.

Shit. “I have to take this.” I rip my phone up from the console and throw the SUV into gear. I hit the answer button.

“What the hell do you want right now?”

“It has come to my attention that we need to talk this morning,” my father says tersely into my ear. “The sooner the better. Edward has brought a situation that I was unaware of to my attention.”

I run my hand over my face and stomp the gas. Fucking Edward can’t keep anything secret.

“I’ll be back at the house in ten,” I snap, and then hang up before my dad can say anything else. I toss the phone back down into the cup holder and ignore the way Ivy is staring at me.

At least she’s not crying anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice comes out timidly, and the concern in it is so fucking ironic that I could punch a hole in the windshield.

I turn into the school before I answer her, weaving around the other slow-moving vehicles. “It’s nothing that you need to concern yourself with.” I pull up alongside the curb and put the car in park.

I expect Ivy to bolt out of the passenger seat, but she doesn’t. She sits there, still clutching her backpack and watching me like a deer in the headlights.

I lean back in the seat and twist my head in her direction. “You want me to be completely honest with you?”

She studies my face for a few beats. “Yeah.”

I nod. “The smartest thing you can do in this house is to remain ignorant. It’s better to keep your nose out of secrets.”

Something lights up in her eyes that I don’t expect. “Then you should’ve kept your dick out of your stepsister.”

My brows skyrocket. I did not think innocent little Ivy had it in her to be so vulgar. I open my mouth to say something more to her, but she flings the door open and slides out. Her backpack slams into the car as she slings it over her shoulder.

“Fuck you, Roman.”

“Ivy—”

She slams the door shut, and I wince as she stalks away, never once looking back over her shoulder. I sit there in the driver’s seat, watching her go, and absolutely hating the mess I’ve gotten myself into.

She has no idea what I’ve done, what I’m doing, or what I will do for her. But that little blast of fire she’s got tells me she’s the kind of woman who I might not be able to ruin.

And that’s a little unnerving.

Because I sure as fuck can’t let her ruin me.