Chapter Eleven

Ivy

The sound of my phone vibrating on my nightstand woke me. Rolling onto my back, I slapped my hand around a few times before it landed on the annoying nuisance. Not bothering to look at the screen, I swiped my thumb across the bottom, groggily licked my lips, and slurred, "Unless someone is dead, I don't give a fuck."

"Good afternoon to you too, Ivy." Father Dominic sighed.

Looking at the phone, I saw the New York area code and groaned.

"Haven't had coffee yet, Padre. What?"

"I see you are still Miss Congeniality. I'm calling to let you know that a Detective Robin Calloway is flying out to see you."

Shit.

Sitting up, I rubbed my hand down my face.

"And how the fuck does she know where I'm at?"

"Gladys was never good at deceiving anyone." Father Dominic snickered. "Now, don't be mad at her. She only wants this matter settled. That way you are free to return home."

"Won't be free unless that God of yours opens a can of whoop ass and smites my tormentor. Think you can put in a good word for me?"

"I'll see what I can do," Father Dominic moaned. "While I've got you on the phone, Gladys received a call from Dr. Lansing, Ivy. Would you like to know why he called?"

Biting my thumb, I grimaced. "Wanted to say hi?"

"You were supposed to pick up your medication before you left for California, but you never did. August is worried about you, Ivy. You need that medication to function. You know what will happen if you don't take it. You will act out, become more agitated, aggressive. Downright hostile to anyone who pisses you off, and that's just the start."

"Sounds like a typical Monday to me," I whispered.

"I'm serious, Ivy. You must take your meds."

"They make me tired, loopy. Like I'm living in a fog. I tried telling Dr. Lansing that, but he said my cocktail was strong for a reason. His solution... less coffee, more exercise."

"Gladys called Michael. He is aware, Ivy."

Shit.

"Fine. Have her mail me the meds."

"She already did. She mailed them to Michael and made him promise to watch you take them."

"Don't need a jailer, Padre."

"No, you need a warden."

Licking my lips again, I groaned. "I need to go. I have to get ready for work."

"Alright, Ivy. Don't forget about Detective Calloway. She will contact you when she lands."

"Whatever," I muttered, disconnecting the call.

Fucking great!

I didn't need a fucking babysitter. No one understood. I couldn't sleep with those meds. They prohibited my head from shutting off. The nightmares I had with them were vibrant, real, debilitating. I would wake up screaming, sweating, sick to my stomach. I already had to live through hell once. I fucking refused to live through it for the rest of my life. None of them knew my torment.

The hell I endured.

Sitting there in bed, I raked my hands through my hair. When all I wanted to do was scream and pull my hair out. I spent several years trying to move past the hell I'd lived in, and for a while, I'd succeeded. I didn't fit in with everyone else. I was bred in the bowels of Hell. Honed, shaped, cultivated for the disturbed and depraved. My childhood was dark, dangerous, taboo. While young girls grew up with dolls, easy bake ovens, and stuffed animals. My childhood was composed of dark dungeons, whipping chairs, and watching the sexual gratification of others.

Raised in a club my father owned, he instructed me in the needs of men. He branded me like cattle. A show of ownership to the others to stay the fuck away. Too bad for me that brand didn't stop him. The only thing that did was the arrival of my first menstrual cycle. That was the day I was no longer useful, and I was discarded like trash. Sold to the Florida chapter of the Golden Skulls, my father sent me to my death. Too bad for him Death was already there. Thanks to my savior, I lived to see another day. Since then, I have distanced myself from the evil that spawned me. But no matter how far I ran, he found me.

He was coming for me.

I knew it. That's why I left the city. How he found me, I didn't know, but he was coming, and when he found me, he would do what that biker club couldn't do.

Kill me.

Slipping from the bed, I threw on a pair of ratty jeans before grabbing a tank. Fuck this shit. I needed something familiar. Something I could control. Shoving my feet into a pair of worn Chucks, I headed for the living room, grabbed my keys, and walked out of the first apartment that was truly mine, leaving everything behind. Even my cell phone.

Making my way down the street, I looked for the signs. Growing up on the streets, I knew what to look for and what to stay the fuck away from. Every city had them. You just needed to know what you were looking for. So, when I saw the chalk drawing of a box with a line sticking out of the top, I smiled.

It never failed.

Smirking, I followed the signs, taking my time to familiarize myself with my surroundings. A girl could never be too careful, and when I finally found what I was looking for, I felt myself relax.

I was home.

The sweet serenity of fire raced through my veins, numbing the terror that threatened to overtake me. In the midst of darkness, I found solace in the knowledge that I was not alone. I just wanted to forget. I wasn't asking for much. Nothing I did would erase the stain.

The lingering anguish consumed me, its relentless grip pulled me down into an ever-deepening void. I was no one. Nothing but the vessel for his perversions.

He was everywhere.

There was no escape.

With each step deeper into the void, my vision became obscured by the graceful descent of delicate kaleidoscope colors, momentarily distracting me from the nightmarish reality that consumed me. The corners of my mouth twitched, but my jaw muscles clenched as I fought against the numbness. The kaleidoscope transformed into a grotesque sight, their once sparkling edges now tainted with blackened pus, resembling large pearls of blood rain as they fell. The storm clouds, pregnant with precipitation, loomed ominously close to the Earth's surface. I extended my hand, yearning to touch them, and I could feel the tainted tears seeping into the crevices of my fingertips.

I sank further into the darkness, savoring the comforting touch of her hand as it gently brushed the hair away from my forehead. Deep down, I knew she was a figment of my imagination. Throughout my life, she had been a constant presence by my side.

Watching, waiting, protecting me.

Like a steady rhythm, my teardrops fell onto the floor, their sound resonating in the room. The sound, with its eerie tone, created a chilling atmosphere. A warning. I had to get out of there. Only, I wasn't going anywhere. In her embrace, a void of black velvet transfixed me, embellished by microscopic bursts of white light that ignited at the rims of my eyes.

My fear gave way, and I screamed.

And that's when she emerged from the darkness.