Chapter Twenty-Five Wade

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Wade

I ' ve never seen Ivy wear a look on her face that says she's actually angry. She's always a giant ball of happy, carefree sunshine, so to see her face now, staring at whoever the fuck this shiny cowboy is across the aisle, has me poised and ready to attack if necessary. Her eyes are dark and stormy. I start moving quicker, pushing my legs to move faster to get to her before he can.

Just as I close in, Cowboy Ken moves closer and tries to put his arms around her. The look on her face is sheer panic so I stand in front of her and smoothly extend my hand for shaking.

"Wade Ashby," I say as I physically feel Ivy relax behind me.

Cowboy looks up at me, startled like he has no idea where the fuck I've come from.

"Brad, Brad Bellingham," he says, taking my hand. I can instantly tell he's a wet noodle, just like his handshake, and I knew he looked familiar.

"So, can we talk?" he says, looking between Ivy and me, as if he's trying to figure out why I am standing between them. Ivy steps forward, and I wonder just exactly what went on between her and her former employer's son.

"I haven't answered you for almost three months—that should tell you that I don't want to talk to you, Brad. And I'm not going anywhere alone with you ."

Wait, why the fuck not? My eyes zero in on him . If he hurt her—

"Ivy, it's all been a misunderstanding, I just want to—"

"I believe she said no, Brad," I bite out. "So that'll be all, but it's been mighty nice to see you."

Brad opens his mouth to protest, he seems to have a problem with understanding the word no , and I'm using every ounce of my self-control to not let my mind roam to why Ivy looked as angry and uncomfortable with him as she did two minutes earlier. Brad looks between us, back and forth for a second, and then he snickers.

"Got yourself a bodyguard?" he asks Ivy.

The fuck did he just say? He just made the stupid mistake of taking my politeness to mean I wouldn't take him out at the knees. I'm about to show him I can be a gentleman and still fuck him right up.

"Actually, I'm her friend. It doesn't seem like you are though, so I'm only going to ask you nicely one more time. It's time to give Ivy some space now." I give him the universal flick of the wrist for get the fuck out of here .

He looks at me, sizing me up. He's polished, his cowboy boots don't even have a single scuff. He's no match for me and I'm pretty sure by the look on his face, he knows it. If he even tries to breathe too close to her, I won't really give a fuck about how it'll look when I knock his ass out. But he sure will, because I can already tell appearances mean more to this guy than they do me.

Brad smirks, and something sinister I want nowhere near Ivy hovers in his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak to her.

"Yep. That's what I thought. Someone to threaten me with is just how you'd operate." His eyes snap to mine. "Ashby, yeah? Silver Pines," he says. "It all makes sense now."

My fists clench at my side as I try to remain calm. He isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, which is why he looks at Ivy and keeps talking.

"Fucking your way through another ranch? I guess that's your thing?" he says to her with a grin.

Well, that does it.

Before my brain allows me to even think, my fist connects with his jaw and sends him right back into the mud and horseshit below him.

I crouch down, making sure the dirt stays on the bottom side of my boots. Speaking low so he's the only one to hear me. "I gave you the opportunity to leave here peacefully, Brad. It's been a long day already, and I really don't want to have to make a total fucking spectacle of you, so I suggest you stay down here in the shit where you belong until Ivy and I clear the barn doors, understand?" I pat him on the shoulder and then pick his hat up out of the mud and toss it at him, and it hits the fucking wet noodle squarely in his chest before I stand.

Our little show has now attracted a small crowd. He starts chuckling like the smug little prick I can already tell he is, even though his lip is profusely bleeding. The thought of this trash anywhere near Ivy has my blood boiling, as I clench my fists and will myself not to hit him again and land him in the hospital.

"You're up, my friend. She's really good at sucking you in."He looks at Ivy behind me. "You're a good little tease, aren't you, honey?" Then back to me, grinning as he pulls a hanky from his pocket and holds it to his lip. Looking right at Ivy, he adds, "Thing is, she can't offer you much though in the long run, pal."

Fuck sakes. Why can't people just fucking listen?

One hand grips his shirt, the other connects with his jaw again. He's instantly dozy as some of our spectators gasp.

I stand and turn to Ivy to get her the hell out of here, but when I face her, she's shaking like something he said actually got to her and then she's hightailing it out of the barn as fast as her still-weakened ankle will carry her.

Ivy's legs are no match for mine and I catch up to her in two seconds flat.

"Did you get all the paperwork finished up?" she asks as her voice shakes, like she's trying to hold it together.

"Ivy—"

"I should've known he might be here. I'm sorry to bring this embarrassment to the ranch."

"Ivy—"

"I'm not trying to sleep my way to the top of anything—" she rambles.

I grab her arm and spin her around. We're in the parking area now and there is no one around. I grip her face and lower my voice enough to get her attention, I'm hoping it stops her from spiraling,

"I don't give a fuck about anything that excuse for a man just said. I know you don't have some scheme to advance yourself on my fucking ranch, but I need to know, did he hurt you?"

One look into her eyes brimming with tears has me pulling her to my chest. I silently will myself not to go back and kick that motherfucker in the face. Ivy allows me to pull her in, molding her small frame into me. She fists the back of my shirt as if I'm her safety net. The tears threatening to spill since we left the viewing area come tumbling out with a force I can barely keep up with.

I settle her in, sigh and stroke her long silky hair, holding her tight to me, steady.

"I've got you. You're safe. Let it out."

An unmeasured amount of time passes as Ivy sobs into my chest. The sound of gravel crunching and people approaching brings her out of it. She pulls her face back from my chest and sniffs.

"I'm sorry." She tugs at my flannel. "I ruined your shirt," she adds, smiling through her tears.

I scoff. "Don't give a fuck about the shirt."

Ivy looks up at me. "Can we just get out of here now?"

"If that's what you want," I tell her as we turn and walk the short distance to the truck. I want to ask again, but I don't want to pry. Partly because if he did anything remotely like what's rolling through my head right now, not only will I kill him, I won't regret it for a second.

"Brad wasn't just my boss's son or some fleeting ex," Ivy offers as we get into the truck and I turn the ignition over. "We dated for five years. It's a part of my life I never want to go back to again. I was weak. It was emotional abuse; I know that now."

I speed up, needing to get the fuck out of here. Now.

"At the time, I talked myself into believing he was just trying to watch out for me, to help me be the best person I could be. I know how silly that sounds, but he was very good at manipulating me. It started small, offering critique on my clothes, questioning how faithful I was, questioning my whereabouts when I wasn't home. His family—especially his dad—never really accepted me; I always got the feeling they thought Brad was too good for me. The only one that was kind to me was Brad's sister, but even she did whatever Brad wanted. I always felt like less around them."

"Jesus Christ," I say, scrubbing my face with my hand, flexing it. Fuck, it hurts. I look down to see the blood on my knuckles and try not to think about how good it felt to hit that fucker.

"Then it progressed, moving to my work, how I trained, what I could never do right. After a couple of years, I was thinking of ending things. It was apparent we weren't even on the same page. I wanted to get married and have a family one day and Brad just didn't. I began a plan to leave him. I wasn't really happy, but then everything was … derailed. It was around that time that I found out … well, kind of devastating news." I look at her, not knowing what to expect. "Basically, it may be hard for me to have children. Without getting into it too much, my body will probably not allow for a full-term delivery even if I conceive. It will be very difficult is what I was told. Brad seemed almost happy at first, but in the days following … well, he said some harsh things to me about not being able to carry on his family name"—she fiddles with her purse strap as she talks—"and that he was staying with me when another man may not. A few times after that, whenever he was really angry at me, he … he said I ‘wasn't worth anything in the long run.'" She uses air quotes around her words, and I want to kill him. "Which is why it hurt me so much to hear that today. It just brought it all back. And he knew it would. I let it get to me even though I know now I shouldn't. I know better." She shrugs.

I reach out instinctively and drop my hand into the middle, allowing myself this one thing. Just this one moment, to touch her any way I can. I stretch my pinky finger out and wrap it around hers as she speaks. She doesn't flinch, or move, she takes a deep breath, like it settles her, and continues. This motherfucking waste of existence.

"Ivy, he should've been fucking consoling you, been there for you, not making you feel like you weren't enough." I look out the window and debate; I'm not that far.

"Can I go back? I want to go back … I'm going back," I say surely, moving to pull over and turn the truck around. Ready to hightail it back to the parking lot and put Brad through the fucking ground.

"No. Please, it won't change anything and will just run your family's name through the mud."

"Maybe so, but it will make me feel a whole lot better."

"Wade." She tightens her fingers over mine. "Please keep driving."

I grit my molars to keep from saying every fucking cuss word in the English language, but I do as she asks and continue driving, because right now it's not about me, it's about her. But I can't help but add, "I better never see him again."

Ivy nods. "Fair enough, but he isn't worth it." She squeezes my hand. "I know that now. When we met he seemed so together, so stable. He was older than me, almost thirty to my twenty-four. Looking back now, I know that even affection and intimacy were a game for him," she says.

I wince but force myself to listen and appear calm.

"He would reward me with it, or take it away to punish me, and it wasn't even really good." She blushes but grins with her admission. "He used everything as a weapon. It was all a mental game."

I grit my teeth again to physically force myself from spewing a barrage of cuss words Ivy doesn't need to hear right now. I will myself to just listen to her, just be there for her, but at the same time, I only have so much self-control when it comes to this woman that I'm starting to feel the need to care for and protect.

"I'm going to drive a little faster now," I tell her. "I have to. I need to get as far away from here as possible."

She nods and looks out at the passing countryside on the way back to Nashville as she continues.

"I'm not telling you this to be my savior. I know my worth now, even if my fate is to never carry a baby to term, and he should've never treated me like I was less. I started going to therapy, I was really fighting with my own self-worth after a few years of being under Brad's thumb. My father, he raised me to be strong, and I felt like I was letting him down, if that makes sense. After six months of going to therapy in secret, I admitted to myself that Brad was, in fact, emotionally abusing me. I was still in contact with my former mentor Peter from the American Quarter and Thoroughbred Association—again, in secret. Having male friends was a fight, even ones who were my father's best friend and old enough to be my own father."

Fucking hell.

"Peter said he saw the changes in me and was worried about me. He's the one that sent me the ad for your trainer position. Seeing that ad gave me hope for a fresh start, a chance for me to live a life away from Brad and start over—to follow my dreams and to never let anyone fuck with me ever again. I made my mind up and promised myself and my dad, never again ." She looks at me for a fleeting second as if to see if she should continue. I slide my hand up to rub her shoulder, and nod.

"The night I tried to leave Brad, the night I drove to Laurel Creek in the summer, I packed my car. I was planning on going before he got home but I had told him I was going to visit my mom in Jellico …"

Ivy's eyes are a million miles away, and all I want to do is crush myself to her and tell her it's going to be okay.

"It was a Thursday. On Thursdays, he always went out with the boys, but for some reason he came home early. He was more than a little drunk, which is when he was the nastiest. My trunk was open in the driveway, and all my belongings were inside it. I was just inside for one more minute to verify I had everything with me. If I hadn't gone back in, he would've been too late and I would've been gone. When I came out, he was standing beside my car; he knew instantly what I was doing."

Ivy closes her eyes as if she's trying to scratch the memory from her mind.

"He grabbed my purse from my hand and took off into the house, told me I wasn't leaving, and once inside he dropped it and came for me. H-he pressed me up against the wall, spewed terrible things I'm not willing to repeat. Something in me just snapped. The look in his eyes, the way he was holding me. His hand came up and I remember thinking he's going to hit me ."

Holy fuck, I will fucking kill him .

"I kneed him hard between the legs to defend myself. He went down like a sack of potatoes." She smiles through her tears, and for that split second I know she's proud of herself. I squeeze her shoulder even tighter.

"I could've run then, but I didn't. I didn't stop hitting him. I kept going, kept hitting him to let him know never to touch me again."

Fucking right she did, my little spitfire .

"I couldn't stop myself—every bit of anger I had boiled to the surface. I might have killed him, I was looking around, looking for something to hit him with if he got up and came after me, but my dad's voice stopped me. I swear I heard him say ‘ you're better than this, angel, leave now. '" Another fat tear slides down her face as she bares her story to me, and she swipes it away instantly. "So, I ran as fast as I could to my car, I got in, took off and I never looked back. Showed up on your doorstep two days later and the rest is history."

I let out a breath I didn't even realize I had been holding, and pull over to the side of the country road we're driving on just as the sun starts setting. It's been a long day and I just need a second to look at her. Thinking of the way she came to my ranch, with nothing but some belongings and hope. Fuck, am I glad she put up with my shit and stayed.

"I'm sorry you went through that. But fuck, if you've never told anyone else this, if no one else knows this story, I want you to know I'm so goddamn proud of you, proud of you for getting the help you needed, proud of you for being brave enough to take a stand against him before he could hurt or violate you." I use my hand to cup her jaw, my thumb tracing her cheekbone.

"You never need to be afraid of him again. I would never let him hurt you."

Ivy's hand comes up to grasp mine at her cheek and she smiles, her eyes still glassy from the tears.

"That's the thing, Wade. I don't need anyone to come to my rescue; the only thing that even remotely scares me is that when I finally snapped, because I held all that in for so long, I could've killed him for the way he treated me, and not regretted it for one goddamn second."

Definitely not the response I expected, and fuck, I don't know how it's possible, I think I might be even more crazy for her than I was five seconds ago.

"But you did look awful hot and bothered out there, protecting my honor," she adds, smiling. As usual she's shifting gears in two seconds flat. Just the tone in her voice changing slightly has all the blood in my body rushing through my veins faster. Ivy's such a beautiful whirlwind and she's always one step ahead of me.

The thought of anyone making her feel like she isn't enough sets off a rage in me like I've never felt. But the most prevalent thing I feel? Pride.

She's got this, she doesn't need me to handle it for her. I've never known a woman quite like her before. It's goddamn refreshing.

She's so fucking strong.