Page 7 of Fractured Loyalties

Seven

IVY

Get up, get up, get up!

My mind screams at me as my alarm rings through the room, a room that still feels foreign to wake up in.

I do not want to be late. I sit up and immediately feel the cold slap of air against my bare legs. The sheets are twisted around me, and the cover has been kicked to the floor during the night. I toss the rest of the mess off… and then, freeze.

What the hell?

My heart jolts at the sight of the spot on my night shirt, just below my ribs. For a second, I think it’s bleach, or maybe paint, but then I remember I didn’t do laundry, and I didn’t paint anything, but…

But there’s no way this could be what my body is screaming it is.

I pull the black fabric away from my skin, and the sticky spot tears a little, dry and hard at the edges. I pore over myself, finding another stain on the hem, and something crusty on my upper thigh.

I want to throw up. Or scream. But…

It’s gotta be nothing, I tell myself. Maybe it’s just sweat. Perhaps someone else did something in this room before the sheets were changed, and I slept in it…

Okay, that’s equally fucking gross.

I jump up from the bed and strip down, hurling the shirt into the corner of the room, refusing to look at it again. I rip the bedding off the bed and pile it on top of the shirt, a messy attempt to make myself feel better.

But I’m sweating, my heart is pounding, and I feel as if I might pass out.

“Ivy?” a voice comes from the other side of the door. “You in there? I have your new uniform that Mrs. Woods had delivered.”

Edward.

“Um, just… just hang it on the doorknob, please,” I croak out, shaking my head as I stare down at my body. I am naked except for my white thong. Something feels heavy in my core, but I push the thought away and rush for the bathroom.

I jump into the shower and scrub my body until it’s pink, until I’m sure the weird sensation is gone. My arms feel foreign, my chest is too tight, and I start to wonder if I’m about to follow in my father’s footsteps and die of a heart attack.

My stomach aches as I wrap myself in a towel and go through the motions of getting ready, pulling on the uniform, and making myself look as presentable as possible.

Because I know that is the key to invisibility at this place.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head for the kitchen, determined not to think about the stains, or the dream I guess I can’t remember, or the way my body feels as if it belongs to someone else…

My shoes make no sound on the polished floors, but Roman sees me the second I clear the archway into the breakfast area, and his eyes penetrate my skull. He’s perched at the counter, a mug of something black and ominous in his hand, his elbows spread wide, as if he owns every inch of the granite.

I ignore him as best I can and head toward the fridge. I just want to eat and get the fuck out of this place—from one source of hell to another.

“Good morning,” Irena cuts into my thoughts. She looks up momentarily from the other side of the room, where she’s sitting at the breakfast table. “Eat whatever you would like.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I rifle through the fridge, more to put distance between myself and Roman than out of genuine hunger.

The shelves are packed with food I have no idea how to pronounce, but there’s nothing that looks like breakfast to me.

I settle for bread and jam from the pantry, then realize there’s no toaster.

It’s a built-in, some touch-screen thing that’s impossible to operate without the patience of a saint.

I press random buttons until a slice of sourdough slides down, and that’s when Roman makes his presence felt.

He slides off his stool and crosses the kitchen with a predatory smoothness that makes my scalp prickle.

He leans against the counter next to me, his mug raised to his mouth, a smirk hovering just above the rim.

“Nice skirt,” he says. His voice is lazy, but the way he says them turns every word into a slow striptease. “But I have to admit I liked the tighter one.”

I glare at him. “Yeah? Well…” My comeback dies unwontedly on my lips as I hold his gaze, my body responds in a way that shocks me.

He leans closer, and the heat from his body is a furnace against my side. “You look… different .” He lets the word hang, waiting for me to ask how. “You must’ve gotten plenty of beauty sleep.”

I swallow hard. “Aren’t you supposed to be at college or something?” I ask.

His smirk broadens. “Online classes this semester.”

I ignore him after that, but Roman watches every move I make, from buttering my toast to smearing the jam on it. My face burns…

And so does something between my legs.

I cram a bite into my mouth, barely chewing as I turn to my mother. “Is there a car I can take, or is Edward driving me again?” I put the question to Irena while keeping my tone as flat as I could.

She doesn’t miss a beat. “You’ll take the SUV. Roman has the keys and will drive you.” She glances up, and for the briefest second, her eyes soften. “Try to have a good day, Ivy. Your second impression needs to be better than the first.”

“Great,” I say, swallowing the last of my toast and wiping my hands on a napkin. I risk a glance at Roman, and instantly regret it. He’s staring at my mouth, at the way I chew, at every micro-movement I make.

It’s as if he’s trying to memorize me.

I hate it. Just more to torture me with.

“Let’s go, Ivy, ” Roman chuckles, his eyes dropping to the hem of my new uniform skirt. I shiver and then brush it off before rushing out of the kitchen.

We exit the house into the garage, and the cold air slices through the stuffy warmth of the house. Roman unlocks the SUV and gestures for me to get in. I do, careful to keep my skirt flat and my knees together. He notices, of course.

He notices freaking everything .

He starts the car, and the engine purrs to life. The silence is thick and ugly as he backs out of the driveway, his knuckles white on the wheel. I stare out the window, doing the math on how quickly I could bail if he tried anything.

However… He gives me nothing.

He’s dead silent for the entire four-mile drive to school, not even bothering to give me a passing glance, and yet, somehow, it still feels as if he’s going to light me on fire with his very presence.

Roman parks in front of the school. He kills the engine but doesn’t get out. He just sits there, his hand drumming on the wheel, before finally looking at me.

I swallow hard, and it’s obnoxiously audible.

He laughs, low and roughly, and then leans in until his lips are right next to my ear. “Have a good day, Little Lamb.”

My whole body locks up. I grab the door handle and bolt out of the car, not even bothering to look back.

Holy fucking shit. I hate him.

But I can’t let him get to me. I can’t let anyone here get to me. I have to make it through this year, no matter what. And then I’m long gone.

“Hey! New girl!” The familiar voice causes me to freeze, right inside the main doors. I turn, my stomach knotting up.

Blair is standing with her arms folded, her posse flanking her like designer-clad gargoyles. Her hair is perfect, not a strand out of place.

Nope. Not today, Satan. I keep walking, but I’m not fast enough.

She blocks my path with one well-timed pivot. “So, you got the memo about the skirt, huh?” She eyes me up and down, making a point to linger at my knees, then at the bow tied around my neck. “Looks as if you learned your lesson. Also, I had no idea you were a Woods.”

I open my mouth to say something, anything, but my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I remember the spilled milk and the way it soaked my legs yesterday, and heat creeps up my neck all over again.

Blair’s friends laugh, and one of them whispers, “I don’t think she knows how to talk.”

The urge to turn around and walk home is so strong I nearly do it. But then, out of nowhere, a new voice slices through the scene.

“That’s enough, Blair.”

Blair’s smile dims a fraction, and her head snaps to the side.

“Oh, hey, Kade. Didn’t see you there.” Her voice suddenly softens, and I whip my head around to see who’s caused this astronomical change.

The guy standing behind me is tall and broad-shouldered, with sun-browned skin and a swimmer’s build. His hair is light-brown and messy, as if he just woke up, but his eyes are sharp and clear.

He steps forward, putting himself between me and the firing squad. “Maybe try something new today. Or is it too early in the week to be original?”

For a second, Blair’s composure wobbles. She recovers with a thin smile. “Just welcoming her to the family,” she chirps, then turns to her followers. “Let’s go, girls. It’s leg day.”

Kade turns to me. “You okay?” His voice is a lot softer now, and it’s stripped of the edge he used on Blair.

I nod, too grateful to trust my own voice.

“I’m Kade,” he says, sticking out his hand. “If you’re Ivy, then you must be the new stepsister of Roman, right? Sorry, is that rude to say? I never know what’s allowed here. I just know it must be shit for you.” He cracks a grin, and I take his hand, shaking it.

“Yeah. Ivy. That’s me.”

“Welcome to Woods,” he says with genuine warmth in his smile.

“If you need a tour guide or someone to eat lunch with, I’m usually at the pool by the east wing.

Or the library. They can’t decide if I’m a jock or a nerd, so I’m mostly just alone.

” He shrugs, but it’s not sad. It’s more as if he’s okay with it.

I like that.

I try to say thank you, but it comes out as a weird, breathless laugh. “I’ll remember that. Thank you.”

“It can be tough here for the newbies,” he says, extending an arm. “You want me to walk you to class or hang back?”

I gaze up into his warm chocolate eyes, and something like relief floods through my system. “You know… I’d rather go in with someone than alone. I think I’ll take you up on that.”

“Perfect,” he says as I slide my hand through his arm. “I think today will be a good day then.”

I nod. God, I hope so.