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“As you were saying?” She reached for my shampoo, just pouring the hundred-dollar bottle on her head.
“Give and take. You hear about my past, I’ll hear about yours once we get to Boston.”
“What?” She paused, her hands tangled in her hair.
“We leave for Boston first thing in the morning. Sorry, wife, but I like business with a side of pleasure.” I wanted to join her…badly. But the look of horror, anger, and anticipation kept me at bay. Leaving her, I walked back to my bed, picking up my phone, long since forgotten. Only three missed calls from Dona and one from my aunt Cora, which was followed by a text that they were gone with my grandmother.
Dialing, it ra
ng once before he picked up.
“Sir?”
“Is everything ready?”
“Yes. I’ll be flying out—”
“No. You’ll stay here in Chicago. Report to Dona, let her know I’m leaving her to look over the house.” She’d know what that meant and hopefully it would cool her head off some. Dona wouldn’t fail. The problem was, just like a dog that had tasted blood, it was almost impossible to cage them again. “However, Tobias…don’t let her out of your sight.”
“Of course.”
“Good.”
“Ethan,” he called out before I could hang up. “Congratulations on your wedding, my friend.”
“You keep calling me that, but we are not friends.” I hung up, throwing the phone onto the bed.
Turning around, Ivy stood in my robe, which was so big on her it almost seemed as if she were drowning in it, her hair dripping wet and sticking to her face.
“Who’s dying first?”
“Anyone who won’t bow.”
The corner of her lip turned up, as did mine.
Boston was about to get very ugly.
SEVENTEEN
“I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love.”
~ Leo Tolstoy
TOBIAS
There are people in this world who refuse to walk the easy path. They see it in front of them. Many times they are even set upon it, given directions and simply told to walk. Yet they refuse. They prefer to struggle. They prefer to fight. They prefer to scream out in frustration and nearly die, going a much more painful route. Outsiders call them masochists. However, those people didn’t realize what people like me realized…there is nothing at the end of the easy path. Why? Because those who created that path stripped it of all it was worth on their way. Where the glory and wealth and power came from, that only came from the path of no return.
I chose that path long ago.
To be this person, to get this close…
It meant pain, but it was worth it. She was worth it.
“You said the pool house was the place things go to die,” I said, watching as she drank her red wine, her gaze never breaking from the pool in front of her. Small ripples spread through the surface of the water as she gently kicked her foot back and forth.
“You think I’ll kill myself?” she asked, drinking again.
“You love yourself far too much to die,” I replied, walking up the side of the pool toward her.
