Chapter Twelve

Luc

Slash was losing his shit. He'd gotten a call from his mother regarding Ivy and fucking kicked dirt when he raced out of the clubhouse. When he returned, my brother was furious, kicking over tables and chairs, even taking a fucking swing at one of the Plebs.

When Frost tried to get him to calm the fuck down, the irate brother did an about-face and stormed out again.

None of us knew what the fuck was going on with him, but we knew it had to do with our bartender. Needing Slash on his game for the upcoming meet, I sent Hannibal with a few of the brothers to head to the woman's apartment to see what they could learn. If the bitch up and did a runner, there was nothing any of us could do, and Slash needed to get the fuck over it.

I told him the bitch was trouble, and I was right.

I didn't need any more drama, not with the shit heating up with Los Santanas . I still didn't know what that fucking asshole wanted, and honestly, he didn't say shit. Not that I gave a fuck either way. If he even stepped one foot in my territory, I had no problem unleashing my men.

Fucker wanted a war.

I would give him one. One he wouldn't walk away from.

A knock at my door had me looking up when Frost stuck his head in. "Luc, you need to get out here. Slash found Ivy."

"So?"

"Bitch is high as a kite."

Fucking figures.

The one fucking time I show a modicum of interest in a woman, the bitch is a fucking druggie. Groaning, I got to my feet. I was so done with this shit. I didn't care if the bitch meant something to my brother. The cunt was getting kicked.

One less thing I had to worry about.

Following Frost, I walked into the main room to find Slash shoving the bitch into a chair. The woman looked calm.

Too fucking calm for someone hyped up on drugs.

"Do you have any fucking idea what I've been through looking for you? I went to the morgue, Ivy. The fucking morgue!"

"I'm not suicidal."

"My mom is worried sick. She's been blowing up my phone all day!"

The brat smirked. "Sounds like you have a problem."

Slash growled, getting in her face. While I wasn't thrilled with his threatening posture, I stopped myself from saying anything when I saw the woman wink at me.

What the fuck kind of game was she playing? Did she not understand that this was it? She was done here. As soon as Slash said his piece, I was kicking her ass to the curb. I didn't give a fuck what happened to her. She was not my problem.

"What happened, Ivy? Why did you do it?"

Instead of answering, the woman leaned back in her chair, held eye contact with me, then asked, "Mouth, can I have a whiskey, please? My lips are parched."

Narrowing my eyes, I glared at the woman.

There was no fucking way she knew I'd been in her apartment last night or what I'd done. She'd been fucking out like a light. I know it.

Unable to look away at the train wreck before me, I knew Mouth was waiting for my permission. Giving it to him, I nodded.

Pulling up a chair, I sat across from the woman, who never once looked away. There was something different about her. Something darker, more determined, resolute about her persona. I didn't know if it was the drugs giving her the courage, but whatever it was wouldn't help her.

Slash slammed his hand down on the table, grabbing her attention. She slowly turned to glare at the man who had been a brother to her since she was a teenager. The look she gave him had me sitting up straighter as brothers stepped closer in case the bitch got froggy and decided to take on Slash. We all knew how she fought. The woman was scrappy. She could hold her own and was deadly. Wasn't taking any chances when it came to my brothers.

Bitch wasn't my family.

I didn't give a fuck.

"Slash, step back," Logic quietly muttered, moving closer.

"She needs to tell me what the fuck happened," my brother shouted.

Nothing.

Not even a flinch.

The woman was hard as nails.

"Look at her Slash. Really look at her. Her breathing is even... controlled. She's relaxed. She's not worried about anything. She's having fun."

"That true, Ivy?" I smirked, looking at the crazy bitch. "You having fun?"

Slowly turning to me, I narrowed my eyes when she smiled. "Why? You wanna play with me some more?"

Hannibal walked in, with a brown bag in his hand. "Sorry to interrupt, but this was just delivered for Slash."

Taking the bag before Slash could reach for it, Logic opened it up and looked at the contents when sudden realization dawned on him, causing his eyes to widen in shock. He instinctively took up a defensive stance to shield me from any potential harm.

Curious, I looked at the man.

"Problem?"

"Go ahead, Logic. Answer him," Ivy sneered, crossing her arms over her chest as she smiled wickedly at my brother.

Something was seriously off with this woman.

I was getting serial killer vibes, big time.

With a nod of agreement, Logic handed off the bag to Saint, who looked inside, frowning. Carefully pulling out a chair, Logic positioned himself between me and Ivy, whose intense gaze conveyed a challenge if I ever saw one.

Leaning forward, Ivy issued a salacious challenge as she licked her lips, her eyes moving up and down his body like she was starving and my brother was a medium rare steak she wanted to sink her teeth into.

"Do you wanna play with me, Logic?"

I growled.

The room fell into a hushed silence. Everyone stiffened in anticipation, while I, in stark contrast, locked eyes on her, observing the intense standoff between her and one of the smartest men I knew.

Logic never took his eyes off hers when he said, "Did I ever tell you I'm a licensed psychotherapist, Ivy? I have specialties in several fields. I am very good at what I do. My primary job is to listen, to watch, to give advice, and help. If you will let me, I would like to help you, Ivy, but you must talk to me. Tell me the truth."

"What truth?"

"Yeah," I grumbled. "What fucking truth?"

The experience of witnessing Logic engage in a meticulous and deliberate conversation with Ivy was quite peculiar. Though I had previously observed him demonstrate his skills countless times, there was something unique about this particular instance. Displaying a calculated and cautious approach, he methodically selected his words carefully. Seemingly aware of the need to avoid upsetting the woman, who was giving him a piercing gaze filled with fury and sexual desire.

"Ivy, I asked you a question."

"Ivy's not here."

I couldn't help but notice the drastic transformation in the woman I knew, who was always cheerful, albeit a tad snarky for my taste and constantly laughed with my brothers. Her voice and entire presence in the room seemed to shift, causing the air to feel heavy and tense. The woman exuded a dangerous and deadly appearance.

"Who am I speaking with right now?"

"Let her go."

"I can't do that. I only want to help. Is Ivy in danger?"

"She's been in danger since she was born."

"Who is she in danger from?"

Ivy slowly shook her head, saying nothing.

"Can you tell me who diagnosed her illness?"

Ivy narrowed her eyes. "She's not sick."

"I agree with you. She's not sick, just like I know you want to keep her safe. Can you tell me if she will remember this conversation?"

Ivy growled before slowly shaking her head.

"So, you keep everything from her."

The woman shook her head again.

Logic sighed. "Please tell me your name."

"Why?"

"Because I want to help. I can make sure Ivy has her medication. I can call her in a new prescription right now and have one of my brothers go pick it up. It can be here in thirty minutes. I only want to help."

"She needs her savior."

"Her savior?"

"Her savior will protect her."

Logic frowned before carefully saying, "If I promise to look for her savior, will you let Ivy come back?"

"Only you."

"Only me."

The woman leaned back in her chair, her eyes focused on Logic as I watched her take a deep breath right before she closed her eyes and her body slumped in the seat. Moving fast, Logic caught Ivy before she hit the ground and gathered her in his arms.

"What the fuck was that?!" I shouted, jumping to my feet while Logic carried Ivy to his medical room.

"Alias, I need 10mg of lorazepam."

"Got it right here," Alias said, handing Logic the syringe so he could administer the dose into Ivy's arm. After checking her vitals, Logic turned to Saint. "Brother, I'm calling in a few prescriptions for Ivy at the pharmacy in town. I'm putting a rush on them. I'm sorry, Slash, that shit in that bag isn't what she needs."

"I'm leaving now." Saint nodded, running from the room.

"Logic, what the hell was that?" I asked, getting my brother's attention. When he turned to me, I saw the worry in his eyes, and I knew whatever he was about to tell me, I wasn't going to like.

"That was a D.I.D. episode. In layman's terms, Ivy has split personality disorder, though it's not called that now. Previously known as multiple personality disorder, dissociative identity disorder is a complex psychological condition characterized by a lack of connection in a person's thoughts, memories, feelings, actions, or sense of identity. But what has me worried is Ivy's other personality said it started when Ivy was born, which means Ivy suffered something very traumatic. Traumatic enough for her mind to create this other identity."

"What kind of trauma would cause a kid to develop multiple personalities?" Indigo questioned.

"Her surroundings, life events, any kind of relationship could have influenced her personality. Childhood experiences, family dynamics, and social circumstances will have all contributed to the development of her personality traits. Trauma, abuse, neglect, or adverse childhood events could have impacted her personality development. These experiences shape how she perceives herself and others. As to what caused this particular episode, I won't know until she wakes up and tells me."

Turning to Slash, I glared.

Waiting.

"She will kill me," my brother groaned.

Stepping forward, I growled, "Pick."

I didn't need to clarify. Slash knew either I would, or she would. I didn't give a fuck. I wanted answers, and the fucker knew he better start singing like a fucking canary. Fast.

"Fine," he groaned, running his hand through his hair, agitated. "You already know that I met Ivy on the streets in the city. My mom took her in. We didn't know how messed up she was until some asshat tried to rob Father Dominic. Ivy appeared out of nowhere and sliced the fucker's throat. She was only sixteen, Luc, and she took down a grown man like it was nothing. I've seen nothing like it since. When the police showed, Ivy panicked and ran. It took me, Mom, and Father Dominic damn near a week to find her, and when we did, she had no memory of what happened or why she was on the streets again. Mom got Ivy into a doctor fast, and after several months of exhausting tests, it was determined that Ivy had a split personality. For months, Dr. Lansing worked with some therapist who prescribed several different cocktails, until he found the right ones. When she's on her meds, she's calmer, more relaxed. But when she stops taking them, she's more. And I mean more. Drug free Ivy is hell on wheels. She's snarky, stubborn, challenging, just a plain pain in the ass."

"Seems to me that's every fucking woman I ever met," Indigo snarked, frowning.

"What about her past? The person who caused this?" Hannibal asked, worried as he looked down at her sleeping form.

"I don't know. She's never said. All we were able to find out is that Ivy hails from Miami, Florida. She generally steers clear of the place. Wants nothing to do with the area. Which is why I was shocked when she told me she had made a trip down south before coming to California. She said she found information about her birth mother."

"And?" I groaned, getting annoyed fast.

Slash shrugged. "I blew her off. Told her she needed to let it all go and move on. Start over fresh here. Which was what I thought she was doing. I'm telling you, something happened last night. I know Ivy. She wouldn't just flip her switch like that. Someone or something got to her last night and triggered this episode."

Memories of my time in her room last night filled my head when I turned to look at the woman I jacked off to.

Curious, I asked, "Can a person with her condition subconsciously be aware of her surroundings while sleeping?"

"With her past, it's possible." Logic nodded. "Without knowing the extent of her trauma and considering she was sixteen when Slash found her, I'm betting her trauma stems from a very young age. Hell, man, diagnosing D.I.D. in a young teen is hard to do because the brain is still developing. Most doctors or psychologists would think early onset schizophrenia or psychopathic tendencies, or any other disorder before D.I.D."

"Frost, get the kit. Fingerprint her. Then run her prints though our database. Logic, I want a DNA sample. If Ivy's running from someone, I want to know who the fuck it is. Any idea who this savior is?"

"My guess," Logic said, taking a deep breath. "The person who freed her."

"Then we need to find this fucker, and fast. Maybe he can shed some light as to what we're dealing with here. In the meantime, she fucking stays here. I want a brother on her at all times. Not risking her going off the deep end with all this shit we have going on. Slash, call your mother and tell her you found her and she's safe, but say nothing about what state she's in. I don't need your mother showing up, mothering all of us."