Wicked
Page 86

My gaze fell to where my phone sat on the wooden chest. Under the fear was a sour taste of regret. If I were to meet my end tomorrow night, would I do so without remorse? No. Regret filled me, and God, I didn't want to go out that way. I'd made major mistakes in my life and people paid the price in blood, and that was something I could truly never undo, but everything with Ren felt like I was just stacking on the regret, and the weight was suffocating me.
I slowly walked over to the chest, my bare feet padding across the wood floors. My heart jumped as I reached for the phone, coming up short. If I called him, what would I say? What would I do? Admit that I was a coward, because in a way I was. So afraid of allowing anyone to get that close that I had shut him out. He was right. I'd been slamming the door in people's faces the entire time, and Jo Ann and Val were the only ones to squeak through.
Next to my phone was one of my textbooks. Statistics. Man, I hated that class. As I stared at the book, a sort of epiphany slammed into me with the force of an ice cream truck being chased by overheated kids in the dead of summer. 
I wanted more from life than my duty to the Order. After all, that was why I was taking a class I hated to earn a degree that I hoped I'd be able to use while I worked for the Order.
I wanted more.
But I wasn't allowing myself to have more—not really. Not the intangible things that counted most, like friendship with no walls, and real human contact. Lust. Love.
A clap of thunder boomed, causing me to jump. I didn't need to count anything to know that the storm was closer. Sitting down on the edge of the couch, I picked up the remote and flipped the TV off. I looked at the phone again, my lips pressed together.
Could I let go of the fear of losing Ren so I could at least experience him?
I wasn't sure or if it was an option at this point. I'd walked away from him twice already. Tucking my hair back behind my ears, I leaned against the cushions and sighed. I sucked. I sucked huge—
A knock on the door jarred me.
I sat up as my heart lodged itself in my throat. I waited there for a moment, and then the knock came again. Jumping to my feet, I hurried over to the door and stretched up, peering through the peephole.
"Oh my God," I whispered.
Although it was dark, I could make out Ren's profile. He was standing sideways, his head tipped back, and I thought maybe his eyes were closed. Ren was here—he was actually here, and I couldn't believe it.
And I was just standing there, my palms pressed flat against the door, my mouth hanging open, looking like a complete goober.
I glanced down the hall to make sure the door to Tink's room was closed. As I opened the door, I hoped Tink stayed in there.
Ren turned, lowering his chin and dropping his hands from his hips. He was drenched from the rain, the shirt clinging to his body, his hair a wet mess. Our eyes collided and held. Lightning cut through the sky behind him, casting his features in an eerie glow before it fizzled out.
He placed his hands on the doorframe and leaned in as his chest rose with a broad inhale. "If you tell me to leave, I'll turn and walk away. I swear that, Ivy, but I had to try one more time. I'm not going to possibly go to my grave without trying. Please. Don't let me go."
Shaken by how closely his words matched my own thoughts, I didn't move for what felt like forever, and then I did. As if I were in a dream, I stepped aside, allowing him in.
Acute shock splashed across his striking features. He must've thought I'd slam the door in his face. After all, that was what I did, and I was good at it. It was probably the one thing I was best at doing.
I was rather tired of excelling at it.
Ren walked in, and I closed the door behind him with trembling hands. I didn't look at him, but he was standing close enough that I shivered, almost able to feel him. So many thoughts raced through me.
Neither of us spoke for several moments, and then I exhaled a shaky breath. What I said, it came from the darkest part of me. Words I'd never spoken to anyone before, and never thought that I would.
"I'm the reason why Shaun was killed," I said, barely above a whisper. "I got him killed and I got my adoptive parents killed. Their deaths were my fault."
He inhaled sharply. "Ivy, I don't think—"
"You don't understand." My voice was flat and I closed my eyes. "It really was my fault. I did something so stupid, so fucking stupid."
There was a moment, and then he said, "I would like to try to understand then."
I almost laughed, but then I figured if I did, it would sound slightly crazed.  If I told Ren how incredibly reckless I'd been, he probably would walk right back out this door. I wouldn't blame him. One could never go past the acceptable level of stupidity, and I'd blown right on by that unspoken line.
Sometimes stupidity killed.
Like the people who thought one more drink didn't mean they couldn't drive. Or the ones who thought sending one quick text while driving wouldn't end with them smacking into someone head on. All bad, stupid decisions.
Mine was pretty epic, all things considered.
"I was two weeks shy of turning eighteen, and I'd already taken the mark of the Order. I know that's not common, but Holly had talked to the sect. Shaun was getting his done and I . . . I wanted mine. They agreed. I don't know what about taking the mark made us feel like we could actually begin hunting. I mean, we'd been training since forever, but none of that mattered. We were young and dumb, I guess."