Torn (A Wicked Saga, #2)

“I’m gonna need you to come down tomorrow and fill out a report,” he said. “Don’t forget.”


I was so not looking forward to that. I hung up and walked about four steps before my phone rang again. It was Ren. I answered. “Hey.”

“Just heard about Val. Where are you?” he asked.

“Um . . .” I looked around. “On Bourbon. Across from Galatoire’s.”

“Hang out there, and I’ll meet in you in a couple of minutes.”

“Ren,” I whispered, my heart flipping all over the place. I really wanted to cry. “You’re busy doing special Elite stuff, and you don’t need to come to me.”

“You need me and that’s where I need to be,” he replied. “I’ll be right there. Okay?”

Ren hung up before I could respond, and I had to breathe deeply so I didn’t break down. I looked around, and not finding any place to sit, leaned against the mustard-colored wall and waited while this horrible burning sensation churned in my stomach, slowly crawling up my throat.

Val had betrayed the Order. She had nearly gotten me killed, but . . . she’d been my best friend, and now she was gone. Dead on the street because of the choices she’d made, the trusts she’d broken and horribly misplaced in others. I didn’t understand how I could feel so much pain for a person who’d done one of the worst things, but I did and the heartbreak wasn’t any less because of her actions.

It was more.

~

Ren showed up about twenty minutes later, shaving off about five minutes of that walk, which was rather impressive. He didn’t say anything when he spotted me leaning against the wall, and neither did I. Partly because I was just so . . . relieved to see him—that wonderfully messy, wavy hair of his, those bright, warm green eyes, and everything that was alive about him.

He walked up to me, and a second later, I was in his arms, and he was holding me so tight and so close. I didn’t care what we must look like to others on the street. I wrapped my arms around him and held on. One of his hands slid up and down my back, and we stood there like that for what felt like eternity.

“You okay?” Ren leaned back and brushed his lips over my forehead. “Looks like your jaw is a little red.”

“I’m fine.” My voice was hoarse.

He circled his arm back around my shoulders, dragging me in against his chest once more. “I’m sorry, sweetness.”

My fingers dug into his shirt. “I didn’t kill her, Ren. It—”

“It doesn’t matter how it happened,” he said, but it did. There was so much I was hiding. “You facing her down was the last thing I wanted for you. That’s too heavy,” he said. “I know what you’re feeling.”

My eyes slowly opened. Ren did know. Kind of. His best friend hadn’t betrayed him, because he hadn’t known he was the halfling, but Ren had been standing on the other side when it came to someone he cared about.

And he was doing it again now, but had no idea.

My mind raced back to earlier in the evening. I’d been seconds away from telling Ren the truth, but I’d stopped. Henry’s appearance and what had just happened with Val didn’t change anything else. I pulled back, clearing my throat. “So, what did Kyle want?”

Ren’s gaze moved over my face as he tucked back a few loose curls. “He wanted to talk about the halfling and plans to try to ferret out some of the fae. See if we could capture one of them and get them to point us in the right direction, but with Val . . .”

My heart was pumping again. I had no idea how many fae knew what I was, but there was a good chance a lot did. There was no escaping any of this. If what just happened with Val had taught me anything, it had taught me that. “She wasn’t the halfling, Ren.”

His brows knitted. “I know Kyle thinks—”

“I’m the halfling,” I whispered.





Chapter Fourteen


Oh my God.

There. I’d said it. I’d told the truth—an earth-shattering truth while standing in front of some building that was most likely a bar.

Ren’s brows were raised and his full lips were parted. Several seconds passed while my heart thundered in my chest. “What?” he said finally. “Ivy—”

“It’s me.” My voice was shaking as were my hands. “I didn’t know until about a week after I fought the prince. I didn’t—”

“Stop,” he said, holding up his hands. “I don’t know why you think that. I don’t care what Kyle said in there. Val was the halfling. That makes sense.”

“No. No, it doesn’t.” I took a step back, swallowing hard. Tears clogged the back of my throat, but I needed to pull it together. I breathed through the burn. “What Kyle said earlier is the truth. If Val had been the halfling, they wouldn’t have risked her that night to open the gate. She wouldn’t have been out here tonight. They’d do everything to keep her safe so she’d be available to the . . . to the prince. It’s not her.”