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“Feed. Her,” he says more firmly, and I can tell by the tone that he’s losing patience. Ivy cries harder, and I’m unable to stop the fresh tears falling down my own cheeks.
I lay her in my arm and use my free hand to lift my top. Sickness swirls in the pit of my stomach, and I shudder as her mouth immediately roots around for her source of comfort. When she latches onto my breast, I cry out. It comes without warning, and I instantly stick my finger into her mouth so she’ll release my breast. I hand her to Grizz and rush off to the bathroom.
Three
GRIZZ
Istare at Ivy, who’s now screaming at the top of her lungs. She wants her mother, that much is clear, but I take the bottle anyway and stick it in her mouth. She suckles without a fuss, maybe because I don’t smell of milk, and I relax back, watching her sweet, innocent face drink it down like a pro.
Once she’s done, she releases her suction and falls into a milk coma. I stand and gently place her into the basket before going in search of Luna.
I find her in the bathroom, and I can hear her sniffles through the locked door. I tap lightly. “Open up.”
“Is she okay?” she murmurs through sobs.
“Open up.”
After a few seconds, the lock clicks and I push the door open. Luna stands before me with a tear-stained face and a red nose. I don’t think too much about it as I pull her into my arms and hold her against my chest. Her small shoulders shake as more sobs leave her, and I gently shush her and tell her everything will be okay.
Ten minutes must pass before she lifts her head to look at me. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
“I’m guessing you don’t wanna come back to the clubhouse?” I ask, and she shakes her head. “Which is gonna cause me a headache,” I tell her, using my thumbs to wipe her wet cheeks. “How can I babysit you when you’re here?”
“I told you,” she says, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her top, “I’m fine.”
“You look it,” I say, my voice dripping in sarcasm.
“It’s the baby blues,” she whispers, leaning over the sink and splashing her face in cold water. Her shirt rides up her thighs, and I spot fresh bruises. I reach out, carefully running my finger over the largest, and she looks down. “I hit it on the table.”
I take her hand, making her stand fully. She grabs a towel to dry her face as I take the shirt in my hands and pull hard, ripping it open. She gasps as buttons fly all over the floor, and I tug the shirt down her arms until it joins the discarded buttons and she’s naked.
Her body is littered in blue and green bruises. It’s impossible to see where one ends and another starts as I rake my eyes over her. When they finally reach hers, I see the pain in them. “What the fuck did they do?” I grit out, blood beginning to whoosh in my ears.
“It’s nothing,” she cries, and I turn to leave. I feel her hands wrapping around my wrist, trying to stop me. “Please, just leave it.”
“Did you want them to do this?” I growl, turning on her. She shrinks back against the wall but doesn’t release her death grip on me. “Did they do this with your consent?” Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she shakes her head. “Then let me go,” I bark, trying to shake her off.
“Please, Grizz, you’ll make it worse.”
“Worse?” I lead her back into the bathroom and force her in front of the mirror. “Worse than this?”
She cries harder, her entire body shaking. “It’s my life,” she sobs. “It’s what I do.”
“No,” I yell, gripping her by the shoulders and turning her to face me. “No, you choose. You say who, and where, and how much. You don’t deserve this,” I say, pointing to the bite marks on her stomach. “You can’t even feed your baby because of them.”
I shrug out of my kutte and place it on the side. Taking off my chequered overshirt, I wrap it around her then pull my kutte back into place over my white T-shirt. “Your fucking brother is selling you to pay his drug habit and that’s not okay.” She pulls my shirt around her, looking vulnerable and lost, and something in my chest tightens. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, taking her hand in mine. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”
“It’s just hard, yah know,” she whispers. “He’s so angry all the time.”
“Your brother?”
She nods. “I don’t want to upset him when he’s around Ivy. It’s not usually a problem, it’s my job, but since having Ivy, I feel . . . different.”
“So, come to the clubhouse. He can’t get to you there.”
She thinks over my words. “I like my flat, and my mum lives just upstairs. She needs looking after.”
“Bring her.”
