Rectify (Return to Us Trilogy #2) (18 page)

Ivy

"Ivy, wake up." I peek at Bryn through slitted eyes as she rattles my shoulder. Ugh. I hope she has some type of miracle hangover cure.

"Still going to work today?" I nod. "You could take a day off."

I sit up and stretch. I open my eyes to Bryn's petite, round breasts in a white cami. Must be nice to have your boobs stay in place without a bra. Her flawless complexion doesn't need a touch of makeup, and her messy hair looks perfect haphazardly pinned on top of her head.

I'm going to work. Aunt Helen wouldn't mind if I didn't show up, but it would bother me. I can't let his actions rule my life. It's Thursday, so I'm going to work.

"Can you drive me home to shower and change?" I'm gonna wear something hot to drive him nuts. Her eyes narrow. Crap. Astute Bryn scrutinizes my face.

"Fine, but don't try to convince me you're okay because I know you're not. If you can't take it, call me or leave."

"I will. Thank you, Bryn."

"Keep calm and act like nothing happened. Don't get mad and fly of the handle at him. He wins then."

"You're right."

"When the time is right, you can tell him you saw him. But the last thing you need is to add to the tension at work with your aunt and uncle." I nod yes at her. "Okay. Let me change, and I'll get my keys," she says and walks to her room.

***

Ivy

This has to be an alternate universe. Not the kind with creepy neon-green aliens with gigantic eyes or anything. I'll leave those for the guys in gloomy suits and sunglasses.

No, this new universe is bloodthirsty and brutal, sparing you no pain, granting you no mercy. The titanic buzz I've been flying high on has vanished. The fall leaves that used to sway in melodies on my way to work are now stagnant and foreboding. Even my favorite pencil skirt and Michael Kors bag can't give me my mojo back.

The universe can't shoulder all the blame. The way women drool over him and the way he commands a room had my player-dar on high alert. His clandestine ties to Viktor and his extravagant weapons cabinet were colossal red flags. Yet, I did it anyway.

I wish I had never met him or felt his touch, his kiss, his passion.

Damn, I can't even lie to myself. Even though I knew he was a cosmic force to be reckoned with, I would've jumped on his spaceship for a ride and hurdled toward Earth in his arms fully aware I'd be charred to bits breaking through the atmospheric barrier.

My hand pressed to my tummy does nothing to stop the churning as I open the frosted glass door and enter the office. Aunt Helen's worried face greets me from the check-in counter.

I have to play this off. I can't handle her pity.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I manage to form a brief smile before I turn and stroll down the hallway. I close my office door and lean against it. Why did I think I could come here today?

I flump down in my chair, and the memories assault me. I'll never be able to pick up a binder clip without thinking of him. Or have a tourniquet wrapped around my arm. A latex glove, mouthwash, vodka. The list goes on and on.

What do I do now? I work with him. He's my boss. Well, kinda sorta. This is why you shouldn't date someone you work with. The hardest part is going to be telling him I saw him.

I drop my arms to the armrests with a sigh. When did I become the type of person to let a man take over her entire life? During my leave of absence after my breakup with Kevin, I evaluated the reasons I let him treat me like he did for so long. Eleven days ago, I decided I would never sit idle again while a man belittled or disparaged me.

When I see him, I'm going to give it to him good. Tell him what a horrible person he is. How he should be ashamed of himself for dogging around town at his age. Tell him how mean he is to make me want to be with him more than I want to be alive.

Stupid womanizing jackass.

I stomp out to Aunt Helen's desk.

"When's Jacade coming in today?" I can't disguise the anger in my voice. Aunt Helen turns and meets my eyes. Well, now she knows what's bothering me.

"He's not. It's Thursday. He's in surgery all day. What did he do?"

Instead of answering, I turn on my Choos and trample to my office. My ire swells with every step.

I snatch my purse off my desk, and as I'm passing Aunt Helen, I say, "I'll be back."

***

Jacade

I grip the back of my undershirt, pull it over my head, and hook it in the locker next to my dress shirt and tie. I grip the top of the locker door and hang my head.

I'm in shambles. I'll admit it. I have been since I left her yesterday morning after our exceptional Tuesday night in the fantasy suite. We were so close. I held her love at my fingertips. Now it slips through because of Kara and the fucking council.

One day is long enough to let this fester. She'll talk to me today. I'm not giving her any more space. I'm confident I can find a way to explain the date with Kara in a manner she'll accept and understand now that's she's seen the council in action. My larger concern, and a fate I cannot accept, is the intensity of suite B frightened her beyond reparation, and she'll never want to see me again.

She appeared to handle it well, and if I didn't have to leave early to check on Amber, I would've had more time to get her reaction.

I should've called in today and gone over to her place. But I wasn't going to reschedule Mrs. Fairfield's surgery and suffer through another torturous pre-op office visit. Not happening. So, I have until after my lunch date with Kara to find the right words to say. Mere hours to find the crucial words I've grappled with for years.

I remove my belt, step out of my dress pants, and hang them on the opposite hook. I slip on my blue scrubs and tighten them at my waist. I jerk on the top to my scrubs. With my surgical cap in tow, I slam the locker shut and spin the lock.

Time to cut people open and make the money.

***

Ivy

Chilled air blasts my face as I open the door to the entrance of the surgery center. Two front-office employees dressed in lavender scrubs help patients in front of me. I empathize with them because a line of patients is stressful, but my outrage makes me antsy. He should've broke it off with me. It would've killed me, but in time, I would've healed.

"Miss, can I help you?" An attractive blonde woman with a compassionate voice breaks me from my thoughts.

"Yes. I need to speak with Dr. Jordan." Her eyes widen.

"Do you have surgery scheduled for today?" She shuffles papers on her desk. Her magenta nails with rhinestone stars click on her computer mouse. "What's your name and date of birth, please?"

I grab the pen from the counter and squeeze it tight in my fist. "No. I'm not scheduled for anything. I need to speak with him. Immediately."

She examines my face. "Umm, well, he's prepping for surgery. Is there something I can help you with?" If I wasn't so fired up, I would think she was pleasant.

"No." My response is crueler than intended. I need to simmer down. I'm livid with him not her. "I'm sorry." I force a smile. "It's important."

"Let me see what I can do," she says as she picks up the phone.

Come on, he's putting fake boobs in a woman, not saving a life. If he's prepping for surgery, he's not in surgery yet, and I want words with him. Lots of vindictive, malevolent, and pitiless words—with expletives.

Screw this!

I turn away from the front desk and slip into the back area. The receptionist calls behind me, "Ma'am, you can't go back there. Ma'am!"

Now, where is the operating room? The one and only time I've been here was two years ago when I brought Uncle Bernie his gym bag he forgot at the office. I duck into a hallway as a nurse walks by. She scans her badge to a door marked
Clinical Employees Only
and passes through. I hook my foot in the door before it closes and sneak into the room.

A nurse in surgical scrubs raises her head from her prep work and rushes through the swinging door to approach me. "Can I help you?" Her hazel eyes regard me from between her surgical mask and flowered cap.

"I need to speak to Dr. Jordan."

"I'm sorry but he's prepping for surgery. You can't be in here." Her hand touches my lower back as she turns me to the door.

A voice from behind me filters through the air and pricks my ear. "Ivy?" His voice. "Jan, it's fine."

Her hand leaves my back, and the door clicks shut. Before I turn, I find my one last nerve.

You can do this. Turn around. Face him. Think about him with her.

"Ivy?"

I spin and hone in on his feet. If I start at his feet, by the time I get to his face, I'll be prepared. I'm never prepared for him.

He's wearing blue scrubs with surgical shoe covers and gown. He holds his gloved hands in the air, ready to perform surgery. What was I thinking? Such a foolish woman.

"I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come."

I force myself to look into his eyes. A dark-blue cap covers his forehead, and a mask conceals his nose, cheeks, and mouth. Vivid turquoise eyes surrounded by dense lashes pierce my soul.

The gloomy tunnel, the dankness, the seclusion… The day I almost died. The day my scar staked its claim on my body, forever a reminder of my brush with death.

I close my eyes as bile rises in my throat.

His unassailable voice calling me back to life.

"Ivy, you're pale and swaying. Open your eyes. Open them!"

I twist my shirt in a circle across my belly. No vomit surfaces, but discomfort and mortification in the form of realization purges from my stomach.

My eyes flutter open, and his face comes into focus.

I can barely speak. "It was you."

"What are you talking about?" He narrows his eyes at me.

"Three years ago, you were the one who... It was you." My fingers churn the fabric tighter and tighter. "It was you."

"I was going to tell you."

"When? Tomorrow? The next day?" My heart crumbles to bits on the floor like the broken concrete of the tunnel. He saved my life. Why?

"The time was never right. I didn't know how."

"Easy, Jacade. You say, 'Ivy, I saved your life three years ago.' Done."

"Not easy. I wanted to be able to explain all the factors in play."

"Well, let's hear it." My fists dig into my hips.

His gaze narrows. "This is not the time or the place and you know it."

Wait a minute, buddy. I'm running this conversation.

"I didn't even know you existed three years ago. Why did you save me? Why were you even there?" I snap before he can respond. "Am I a plaything you pick up whenever you're bored?"

"Of course not." The conviction in his voice throws me off. No. I can't trust him. "Were you going to tell me about your date the other night too? Or should I add it to the list of things you neglected to tell me?" My fingernails dig into my forearms. This deceitful piece of...

His voice is pained and fierce. "It wasn't like that."

"How was it then?" I throw my hands up in the air. "You didn't tell me you were the one who saved my life, or I'm not your only fuck buddy?" The nurses spying on us through the window turn their backs and whisper to each other.

"Keep your voice down. I do have to work here." He growls and strides to me. He grabs my elbow and talks low in my ear. "Three years ago, Viktor tried to kill you on that operating table. I found you and saved your life. You didn't need surgery. You're perfect as you were made."

I stare at his hand flexing on my arm. "You hold me too tight, Jacade."

He releases me abruptly. "Keeping this from you has tormented me," he continues. "I think of nothing else but that I could have lost you. I stood over you unsure if I would ever see life in your eyes again. Since then, I haven't slept, I barely eat, I'm on constant guard. I'm a goddamn wreck."

"Why didn't you tell me? Three years—"

"Bernard forbade it. Ask him."

"Uncle Bernie? And you let him bend you to his will?" I grab my head with my hands. "I… I can't deal with this. It's- it's so fucked up, Jacade!" I pace away from him, then pivot to face him. "Look what you've done to me. I'm a rambling spaz."

"Take a deep breath." Is he attempting to settle me down? No. I have a right to be fuming, and he doesn't get to steal this moment from me. I need to leave before I knee him in the crotch. Or deck him in the jaw. Or both.

I turn to leave, but his begging stops me. "Don't give up on me now. I've worked so hard for our future. For us. I'm so close to giving you everything. Please. I can't... I..."

I spin and glare into his eyes. "You what, Jacade? All I ever wanted was to trust the man I love. No matter how hard you work, you can't give me that anymore."

"Yes, I can. I will."

I shake my head. "No, you can't. I can't trust you not to cheat on me. I can't rely on you to tell me you were the one who saved my life or the truth about my Aunt Helen's identity. What else have you done? How many women have you lead down this path to fall in love with you only to find out you're a lying bastard? I need unconditional faith in my man's word and fidelity. I can never have that with you, Jacade. It's impossible."