Page 48 of Conor
She looks up at me and blinks, disoriented and confused, but worst of all… terrified. The covers are clutched around her, and she is too paralyzed to move, but it’s clear she thought I left her.
I walk over to her, still dripping wet, and kneel down before her. “It’s okay now, love.”
My fingers feather over the only patch of skin left unscathed on her battered face. It looks worse in the daylight, and the only comfort I have is the knowledge that I will drain the life from Slick’s eyes. But if I could, I would murder Animal all over again, and I would make him suffer in ways he’s never known.
“I thought you left,” Ivy blurts. “I woke up and you weren’t here.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise her. “I was just taking a shower.”
She still looks unsettled, and I’m sure we have many more days like this ahead of us.
“Ronan and Dom are just down the hall too. Nobody is getting in here, love.”
She glances at the door to the hall. “They are?”
“Aye. But if you don’t feel safe here, then we’ll move. We’ll buy a new house.”
She bites her lip, and nothing comes out, but in her heart, I know that’s what she needs to move forward. Ivy still has to wrap her head around the notion that it’s my job to look after her. She wouldn’t ever come right out and tell me she wanted a new house because that costs money. But I want her to know these boundaries between us aren’t going to remain. Whatever it takes to make her feel secure in my love and devotion for her, I will do it.
I lean up and give her a gentle kiss. “Besides, we’ll need a bigger place when I get you in a family way.”
A blush spreads over her cheeks, and I kiss her for real this time. She tastes so fucking sweet I never want to stop, but I don’t want to hurt her either.
“How do ye feel about a shower?”
“I’m a little sore,” she says. “But I think I can manage it.”
She glances back at Archer, still asleep, and worry passes over her face.
“He’ll be okay,” I tell her. “If you want, I can have Ronan come sit with him.”
She thinks on it for a minute. “Maybe. I just don’t want him waking up alone.”
I pop my head out into the hall and call for Ronan, and he appears a moment later. With my instructions, he sits on the end of the bed and folds his hands in his lap with the seriousness of a sentry. Ivy takes one look at him and knows that nobody will ever fuck with our boy if they have to contend with Ronan.
I help her from the bed and we make a slow walk back into the bathroom. All she has on from last night is one of my tee shirts, and it fits like a dress on her. I help her out of it, trying not to look at her body because right now would be an inopportune time to get an erection. But regardless of my precautions, my dick throbs between my legs, itching to get back inside of her.
I test the water with my hands to make sure it’s still warm and then help Ivy inside. She relaxes into me completely and the ugliness of this past week disappears with the knowledge that she trusts me. Even after she saw me at my worst, she trusts me.
“Ivy, there’s something I need to ask you.”
“What is it?” She twists her neck to look up at me.
“We have Slick, but I’ve yet to deal with him. There isn’t a question that he’ll die, but I need to know what he did. I need to know how he should suffer.”
Her fingers curl into my back and she buries her head in my chest. “He didn’t get far enough to do anything.”
Satisfied with that answer, I rub small circles into her back, and her lip trembles. “But he was going to take my son.My son.He was going to—” She chokes back a sob, and I hold her until she’s calm enough to speak again. “I just want him dead. I want him gone. Does that make me a monster?”
My fingers brush over her cheek and down her throat. “No, love, it doesn’t. You won’t ever have to think of him again. I’ll make him go away.”
Tears splash against her cheeks, and I try to brush them away, but she shakes her head. “I’m sorry I left, Conor. It was so stupid.”
“I fucked up, love. That’s on me. I’m not used to being so out of sorts over someone. I think we just need to get better at fighting.”
“What you said last night,” she whispers. “Did you mean it?”
My lips graze against hers, longing to taste her. “I meant it then, and I mean it now. Ye’re mine, baby girl, and I love you.”
