Wicked
Page 83

"Did we move too fast?" he questioned, putting his hand on my shoulder.
I reacted, born out of a keen sense of desperation. I spun around, swiping my arm, knocking his aside. "Don't touch me."
He took a step back, hands at his sides. Concern filled his emerald gaze. "Okay. Can we just talk for a second?"
"There's nothing to talk about." I started for the bedroom door.
"Did I hurt you? Dammit, Ivy, answer me. Did I hurt you somehow?"
Pushing my hair out of my face, I shook my head. "No," I croaked, turning to the bedroom door. "You didn't hurt me. Not yet." I pulled on the handle, found it locked, then cursed under my breath. Unlocking the door, I threw it open.
"Not yet?" Ren followed me into the living room, staying back a distance as I sat, grabbing my socks and shoes. "Baby, I would never hurt you. Why would you—?"
The words burst out of me, coming from a dark place I tried to stay away from but could feel myself slipping into. "You wouldn't mean to. You'll promise me that everything will be okay, and then it won't be because you can't control it."
His brows knitted as he moved to the other side of the coffee table. "Ivy, I'm not following you."
"It doesn't matter." I slipped my shoes on and stood, swiping the stake off the table and shoving it in my back pocket. I pulled my shirt down to cover it.
"Let me get dressed. I'll take you home, okay?" he reasoned gently. "Just give me a couple of—"
"No! No. I don't need you to take me home. I don't need you to do anything, all right? You're a great guy, but this—whatever this is—isn't going any further. This was a mistake."
Ren straightened as he eyed me. "Dammit, Ivy, what the fuck is going on? This was a mistake? This morning was anything and everything but a fucking mistake."
I wrapped my fingers around the handle, heart racing, and I stopped for just a second, my throat burning. "Maybe for you it wasn't," I said and then walked out.
As I crossed the hall and hit the button for the elevator, part of me expected, maybe even hoped, that he'd come after me, which was so sick and twisted. But the elevator came, and as I stepped inside, the door across the hall didn't open.
Ren didn't come after me.
The elevator doors slid shut and I backed up, hitting the wall of the elevator. I smacked my hands over my face, smothering a raw sob. I pushed it down, I pushed it all down until there was nothing.
Until I felt nothing.
Chapter Nineteen
Tuesday was a fucking mess and a half that went from shitty to shittastic in a matter of minutes. I tried to get a hold of Val, but she wasn't answering her phone, and I thought about calling and dumping all of this on Jo Ann, but she had a pretty packed schedule on Tuesdays.
Tink was still holed up in his room, and the only reason I knew he was in there was because he had The Cure and Morrissey on repeat, and I was about to lose my ever loving mind if I had to spend another second in my apartment.
After showering and changing into fresh clothes, I still couldn't get rid of the scent of Ren or the taste of him. What we had done this morning, what I'd done . . .
My body heated even as my chest ached. I'd never felt like that before, never so out of control and turned on, but those feelings stirred up this morning had run deeper than lust. And maybe I could've handled it if it was just about getting off, as crude as that sounded, but it was more than that.
More. Hadn't I wanted more out of life? If so, this was like taking a class on stupid and excelling at it.
I sat at the edge of the bed and placed my head in my hands. Okay, I couldn't go back and change anything that had happened between us. I just had to deal with it, and I had to be stronger. I had a job to do and I needed to focus.
I'd done what I needed to do, right?
There was no answer, only the droning of The Cure. I got up and strapped the iron stake into one boot and the thorn stake into the other. Picking up my phone, I tapped the screen. There were no texts or missed calls from Ren—not that I expected any to be there. Not after telling him that the morning was a mistake. I slid my phone into my back pocket and hooked my keys to the loop on my jeans, starting toward the front door, but I stopped. Turning around, I faced the hall that led into the kitchen and Tink's bedroom. I started toward his room, but I still had no idea what to say or do with him. I wasn't even sure if I was angry anymore or just disappointed.
I left my apartment without saying anything to him.
With a couple of hours to waste before the meeting David had called, I took a cab to Canal then slowly made my way toward Royal. Skies were overcast, the clouds fat with rain that would soon fall, and the streets weren't nearly as congested as they normally were. I ended up in front of the nondescript brick building.
Based on what Merle had said about the spirits, did that mean the ghosts of the mansion beside it had traveled into this house? Or maybe it was the gate that affected the area; after all, the gate would've been here before any of the houses were built.
I lingered under the painted green iron balcony of the house next door. I wasn't sure about ghosts. I'd never seen one, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. I mean, fae were real and so were halflings, so why not ghosts?
There were iron bars on the windows and the door, and to the untrained eye, that might look like the custom of the houses in the Quarter, but those bars were made out of iron for a reason. I hadn't even noticed the little old house before. God, how many times had I hobbled up and down Royal Street, walking right past this gate? The same with the church?