The Rush (The Siren Series)

CHAPTER Seventeen



Thoughts of the night before attacked my emotions as I sat motionless in the passenger’s seat of my mother’s Escalade. We drove silently on the way to our Sunday visit with my little sister.

Usually I was dying to see Honor, make sure she was Ok, make sure the curse wasn’t destroying her life…. But last night replayed in my head like a destructive addiction.

How could I have been so stupid to let Ryder see my tattoo, first of all?

And then how could I have let his words affect me like that?

Blackheart. He knew better. Everyone knew better! Even people that didn’t want to see the truth, that preferred ignorance is bliss and all that, knew better.

I was a borderline sociopath.

There wasn’t an excuse in this world that covered my long list of sins. And that list would only lengthen unless I got the hell out of here.

“When we get there,” my mother’s melodic voice cut through the silence, “you need to be on your best behavior. I am not going to put up with any of your antics, Ivy. You owe me.”

I wanted to ask, for what? Instead I nodded meekly, “I know. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Better than your best behavior,” my mom pressed.

“Ok, yes. Better than my best.”

I thought that promise would be enough to pacify her, but she had too much experience in all of this. “I mean it, Ivy. You have no idea what you put me through last spring. You have no idea what you put Nix through! And God, Smith was so concerned about you; it was like you were his daughter. He immediately blamed me of course. Until I explained about the accident and what happened to that poor Sam Evans.” She said poor Sam Evans, but I would have had to be deaf not to hear the smile in her voice…. the excitement. “Still, Smith was so concerned about you, so worried. Honestly, it was a little sickening. I don’t know what happened to him. There was a time when he adored me. He bought me that Tiffany necklace. You know the four karats one? Just because! He bought me that gorgeous piece of art just because and now look at him! I swear it was those cancer drugs. They screwed with his mind. He’s not right. He shouldn’t have Honor. Who knows when he’ll turn on her? Then what? She’s my daughter and I’ll be damned before I let anything happen to her.”

My mother rambled on and on like that until we pulled through the gated driveway of Smith Porter’s gigantic West Omaha mansion. He was filthy rich, like more money than God loaded. It was what drew my mother to him in the first place, but he somehow clawed his way out of hell and my mother’s greedy fingers. He must have been a monk in a former life, or Mother Theresa or something because to defeat stage four brain cancer and the curse was like legend status.

Maybe he was a super hero.

Honor certainly thought so, which made me immediately fall in love with him. Any man my mother hated and my sister loved was basically a saint in my book.

My mom pulled the car to a stop in front of the pillared front entryway of his huge modern estate and we exited the giant SUV in silence. My mother preferred demure-classy-Ivy over all other options and so I obliged her. She had the power to take away these visits and making sure Honor stayed as far away from our mother as possible had become my life’s purpose.

Or one of them. Making sure I got far away from our mother was the other.

“Smile, Ivy,” my mother commanded through her own plastic expression. “Look like you love me.”

I obeyed and kept smiling as we were welcomed into the house by Smith himself and led to the drawing room. Ok, it wasn’t actually the drawing room, but that’s what it felt like. Smith had a whole household worth of servants but he preferred to answer the door himself when my mom was around. Personally I didn’t think he trusted her around any man, even ones that worked for him.

Obviously he was smart.

“Ava,” Smith greeted her coolly. He didn’t even hold out his hand to her. Where in most of these pretentious circles people greeted each other with kisses or at least a handshake, Smith stayed as far from my mother as he could. It annoyed her to no end. “Ivy, it’s so good to see you back home and healthy,” he smiled down at me, bringing me into a hug. Another thing that would annoy my mother.

I let it happen. Smith was like the fun uncle I never got to have. He was devilishly handsome in that refined gentleman kind of way, with short, cropped blondish hair infused with streaks of gray although he was still in his early forties. He had a classic jawline and strong nose, and his eyes were deep brown but lightened when he laughed. I could so easily see why my mother had chosen him. And the best part about him was his easy going personality except when it came to everything Ava Pierce.

“Ivy!” my little sister squealed from across the room.

I wrenched out of Smith’s grasp to open my arms just in time to catch her. She wrapped her stick thin arms around me, squeezing me until I could barely breathe. But I wouldn’t have pulled away for anything. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes as I held her close, inhaling her unconditional love. She was like this mini version of me, with deep auburn hair and bright green eyes and perfect flawless skin. Her freckles spattered the bridge of her nose too, but scattered over her cheeks and one just to the corner of her eye. And she was untouched by our world, completely innocent.

I prayed every day that she would stay that way.

“I missed you so much,” I confessed into her hair. My voice was full of emotion and I didn’t even try to hide the catch in my throat.

“I missed you too,” she squeezed me tighter, stepping on her tip toes so she could get a better hold. “Did you get my letters?”

“Yes, sorry I couldn’t write back. They wouldn’t let me,” I explained hoping she didn’t think I had blown her off.

“I know, mom told me. She said it was part of the therapy,” Honor whispered but not from fear of being overheard…. from just plain fear. “You’re better now? You’re not… um…. depressed anymore?”

Ha. The million dollar question.

“No little one, I’m not,” I lied. I hated lying to Honor, but sometimes it was necessary. I couldn’t have her worrying about me. I couldn’t give my mother something to use and lord over her. If my mom thought she could convince Honor I would be safer and healthier with Honor at home with us, she might just leave her dad to help me.

“Alright, Ivy. I would like to see Honor too,” my mother’s voice attacked our embrace and I could feel the rage pouring out of her in waves. She had seen the opportunity too and was furious I gave it away.

Honor tightened her arms around me once more and then released me. I watched her walk away and step into my mother’s cold arms and shivered. I glanced up at Smith who was watching Honor with a barely restrained flight instinct. Anyone could see his desire to grab his daughter and get as far away from her biological mother as humanly possible. I wondered if maybe it was the chemo drugs that flipped the switch in his male brain. Is that what happened to Ryder too? Especially after our conversation last night, I was convinced my curse held no power over Ryder. But then why not? Was he sick as a kid or something? Maybe a drug addict in years past, and the drugs had done a number on his brain?

Except he was way too perceptive for his own good. It definitely wasn’t an intelligence thing.

Grrr. I hated how much he consumed my thoughts, how invasive just thinking about him felt. He was this absolute enigma in my life and I had no idea what to do with him.

I wasn’t even sure I wanted to do anything with him.

I glanced up at Smith, wondering if there was a way to ask him about his time in the hospital. Maybe he had some insight that would be useful. He turned to face me when he felt my eyes on him and held my gaze. He tilted his head toward the hallway in a gesture asking if I would go with him. I nodded just barely in response, shocked that he was willing to leave Honor alone with my mom.

“Ava, I’m going to show Ivy a book I’ve been reading about depression. I think it will really help her,” Smith declared in his rich voice that usually commanded board rooms and was right now bending the force of nature that was my mother to his will.

“Why, Smith?” my mother asked coyly. “Are you struggling with depression? I’m sure my lawyer would love to hear the details.”

“Not at all,” Smith replied with a firm hint of irritation lacing every word. “This is for Ivy. It has nothing to do with me.”

“Fine,” my mother sighed as if it was the greatest inconvenience ever. Although her pretend irritation was all a lie, I could see the greed light her dead eyes, her fingers practically shaking with the opportunity to manipulate and brainwash Honor.

I followed Smith out of the room, across his open foyer and down a short hallway. He opened the door to his study and let me pass before looking surreptitiously into the hallway as if on look out. When he was satisfied we weren’t followed, he closed the door quietly and walked over to perch his hip on his massive mahogany desk.

“We don’t have much time. I don’t trust your mother alone with Honor for more than a few minutes,” Smith explained quietly.

“I feel the same way,” I lowered my voice as if my mother had super hearing or something.

“First, tell me, are you Ok?” Smith’s steely expression met mine. He was truly concerned. For me.

The realization took my breath away. Nobody was really concerned about me. Everyone, even kids from school, assumed my “rehab” was an excuse to escape the aftermath of Sam’s accident. But now Smith and Ryder in less than twenty-four hours. I felt the ground shift beneath my feet, or maybe it was less physical… maybe it was more like a shifting inside of me, like my soul opened a little bit to the outside world.

“I’m Ok,” I answered truthfully. Both in his question and my answer the subtle hints of what “Ok” meant were obvious to both of us. Ok for me was all very relative. I was Ok because I was alive and not currently being physically abused. I was Ok because I was back home near Honor and able to keep a close eye on my mother. I was Ok. But at the same time I was so far from being Ok it was sickening.

“Good,” Smith grunted gruffly. He paused for another moment, stealing a glance at the door. “Ivy, if you ever need anything, I mean anything, money, a place to stay, a plane ticket, anything, you let me know. Alright?”

“Alright,” I nodded my head for extra emphasis. It was nice to know Smith wanted to help; it was even nicer to know Smith understood that I needed help. But, I couldn’t under any circumstance take him up on his offer. And he knew that. It would have terrible consequences for Honor. If my mother ever found out, her lawyers would go straight for his jugular which had thus far been protected by innocence of action. But it was nice to know he cared and that he saw a need.

“Alright,” he repeated his voice never losing the refined hard edge that I was sure had been a key factor in all his success. “I called you in here because I’ve been talking with your father’s attorney. When you went away,” his voice broke for a moment and I stood up straighter, ready to bolt from the emotion that was flowing from him. This scenario felt so dangerous my arms had goose bumps and my breathing had become erratic. “Listen, I know what your mother’s like. I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you. I don’t know details of what your life is like living with her, but I know damned well that my own daughter will never find out. That makes me very concerned for you, understand?” he softened his voice and started talking rapidly so I only nodded. I didn’t want to interrupt him; he needed to get whatever this was out, quick. “Your father set up a trust for you that is available to you once you are eighteen and have graduated high school. The original language made it clear this money is meant for your future, so you can go to whatever college you wish or simply have access to it once he deemed you were an adult. However, there is some language that would suggest the money be made available to you immediately if the court ruled you were in danger.”

His words hung in the air as if the world stopped moving, as if time completely stood still.

When he could see that I was speechless he continued, “It would be difficult for a court to decide you were in danger unless there was absolute evidence. I’m guessing you don’t have concrete evidence of physical or verbal, even emotional abuse or even threatened physical abuse?” I shook my head in defeat. “Well, I didn’t expect it to be that easy, don’t worry. With your permission I would like to continue talking to your lawyer. I approached him on impulse after I learned you were sent for treatment. But I think he and I might be able to work through this and make your fund available to you before graduation. Would that be alright with you?”

I wanted to agree, I wanted to beg him to do whatever he could. I would even pay for it; he could take whatever he wanted from my inherited millions. I just needed enough to disappear, he could have the rest. But that’s not what came out of my mouth, “I…. I have to say no. Smith, thank you so much for being so concerned about me. But I’m fine. I was sent away for what happened with Sam Evans, not because of anything else. But I’m better now. I’m fine.” Even I heard how flat and lifeless my words sounded.

“Ivy, I have a lot of money. Whatever I work on will be kept completely private, completely secret,” he promised. He was pleading with me, desperate to get me to agree. And I wanted to, I wanted to so bad.

“Smith, I can’t,” my voice broke and I shot nervous glances at the door every ten seconds. “Don’t worry though,” I was quick to assure him when I watched his face fall. “I have a plan. I swear to you I will be fine.”

“I know you will, kiddo,” he stood up from his desk and put a strong hand on my shoulder. “If you change your mind though, call me first thing.”

“I will,” I lied. I wouldn’t change my mind and if I did the minute I dialed Smith I would remember Honor and hang up. I moved to the door and sprinted out to the hall as if the devil were chasing me. Smith’s offer was way too risky to even consider.

And walking back into the great room where my mother was cuddled on the couch with Honor whispering all kinds of treacherous secrets into her ear I remembered why. Smith needed to stop playing my savior and focus on his daughter. My mother was a ruthless witch and she would do whatever she could, anyway that she could, to rip his happiness apart and steal everything of value from my little sister.

In two years, when I graduated high school and finally had the access to the trust I needed, Honor would be thirteen. She would be old enough to understand somewhat of went on in my world and why she needed to stay away. As long as she believed me, as long as Smith kept his umbrella of protection firmly over her, she would be safe.

Besides, by then I would have run out of time. At eighteen I could no more protect Honor than I could myself. I would be an adult, fully responsible to the circle, fully in the custody of Nix.

I allowed myself one long shudder of fear, reminding myself of my goal and why I needed to deny Smith any help he offered. And then I joined my sister on the couch. I would relish this time with her, cherish it and adore her. My freedom had a countdown clock attached to it, but so did my relationship with my sister.

I guess it was true what they said, you couldn’t have it all.

Or, in my case, any of it.