Surviving Ice

“Here. In San Francisco.”


He nods, his mouth opening to say something, but hesitating. Captain George Riker forms opinions of people quickly. I’m sure he’s already formed an opinion of Ivy, and that’s without seeing all her tattoos.

A feature he would definitely not appreciate as I do.

“She seems nice,” is all he says. “How long have you been in town?”

“Not long.” I can’t bring myself to admit to having been here for a couple of weeks already.

His jaw tenses, like he’s figured that out already. “Staying?”

“I wasn’t planning on it but . . .” I glance back at Ivy again. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure I am.”

Astute eyes settle on me. “Does she know?”

I shake my head.

He takes another long puff of his cigar. “You gonna tell her?”

“I’m not sure I’ll have a choice but to.”

His eyes narrow. “How so?”

I hesitate. “She’s tied to an assignment that I shouldn’t have been brought in for. I don’t think I can keep it from her forever.” The guilt will eat me up more than it already has.

“He’s got you doing something wrong, doesn’t he?”

“Something to cover his ass, yeah.”

My dad nods, like he expected this all along. And he did. This is exactly the kind of thing he warned me about.

He’s always loved being right. But right now, I see only worry. “You’re going to do the right thing. Right?”

I puff quietly on my cigar, not sure how to answer that.

If only it were that easy.



“It was so nice to meet you, Ivy.” My mom’s eyes light up as she shakes Ivy’s hand, and I know she approves. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if she would. Ivy’s nothing like the girls Mona Riker always tried to steer me toward growing up. She’s the opposite of Sharon in every single way, and Mom was heartbroken when Sharon called off the wedding.

Maybe she’s just so happy that I’m here, that she doesn’t care who I bring home. Either way, I’m happy that tonight ended peacefully.

“So . . .” My mom’s gaze shifts to me and I see her fighting off tears.

“We’ll be back to visit very soon,” Ivy says for me, in a voice that tells me she means it, and a sharp look that tells me I’m going to get an earful from her later.

“Okay.” After a moment of hesitation, my mom ropes her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight. “I hope so,” she whispers, making my chest tighten with guilt and regret.

My dad gives me a single nod, his arms settled over my mom’s shoulders.

I feel their eyes on our backs the entire way to the car. Ivy must as well. “Your mother is incredibly nice,” she murmurs, slipping her fingers through mine affectionately.

I smile. “She is.”

“My own mother isn’t even that nice to me.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not. Just you wait . . .”

I open the door for her to climb into the passenger seat, and then I come around to the driver’s side.

A sharp pinch on my triceps has me wincing in pain.

“Five years? You live in the same city and you haven’t visited that poor sweet woman in five years?” Ivy barks. “When you said you weren’t close, I thought you meant you did the occasional drive-by, half-assed attempts at calling. But they haven’t seen or heard from you in five years!”

I knew that was going to come out somehow.

I can only offer, “I know.”

“She doesn’t care about your less than honorable discharge, Sebastian. All she cares about is that her son is happy and safe.”

“I send her birthday cards,” I mumble, earning her sharp glare.

“A card.” Her tone is flat but her glare is scathing. “That doesn’t even begin to count.”

I didn’t think Ivy of all people would get so fired up over this. “What? How often do you see your parents?”

She sputters for a moment.

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