Chapter Twenty-One
I’d come home around lunch time to check on Ivy, only to find the place empty. I wasn’t happy about it, mostly because I’d been looking forward to seeing her in some weird way. Last night hadn’t been anything particularly special in the sex department.
Not for me anyway. No, really. I’d screwed women who were into all kinds of kinky shit, and I’d done enough in my twenty-some years that it was hard to surprise me, even with really great sex.
I’d simply been looking forward to seeing Ivy. I wasn’t worried about where she was. I had a man following her, and I knew she was out shopping with Sasha and one of her friends. I’d been home for an hour puttering around when I finally heard the door open. I expected the sound of young women at my doorstep, but I heard nothing.
Ivy was alone.
A slow smile spread over my face. “How was shopping?” I asked.
Ivy jumped and pressed a hand against her heart. “You scared the shit out of me,” she hissed.
I chuckled. “You startle easily.” I pushed away from the doorway I was leaning against and walked towards my fiancé. Ivy’s arms were filled with bags from Barneys. No doubt, Sasha’s influence. “Did you have fun?”
Her cheeks turned red as she looked at the bags. “I’m sorry.” Her words were rushed as she spoke. “Sasha wouldn’t stop badgering me until I bought things, and one thing led to another…”
It took me a few minutes to understand what Ivy was freaking out about. Considering that my sister-in-law had one closet full of Chanel, and Ivy only had about five bags. “Are you worried I’m going to be upset by the money?” I asked her. I could hardly believe it, but I guess it made sense considering how Ivy lived.
“We spent a lot,” she said, raising the bags. Her eyes were wide as she spoke. “Like, A LOT.”
I snorted. “I’ve seen Sasha shop. That looks tame compared to the money I’ve seen her put down.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Ivy took her bags and walked towards the couch. She sat heavily on the edge of it. It was odd to me how upset she looked.
“You shouldn’t feel any way about it,” I told her as I walked towards the couch and laid a hand on her shoulder. Her hair was in it’s normal bun and several of the curls were laying against her neck. “It’s just money.”
She snorted, and I knew that she was going to give me a lecture about the power of money, but she didn’t get a chance. A loud knock sounded on the door, drawing both of our attention away from the bags and one another.
“Expecting someone?”
I shook my head. “I’m not.” Not only was I not expecting anyone, but my condo wasn’t the type of place people were able to just drop by. My gun was on my hip, and I placed my palm on my holster.
“Stay here,” I told Ivy.
Her eyes were wide as she looked at me. “What’s going on?” she asked. Her voice was high with panic.
“Everything’s going to be fine. Just stay here.” I walked towards the door slowly. I wasn’t sure who was on the other side and if they were friend or foe.
The banging continued. “NYPD,” a voice on the other side called.
Ivy and I looked at one another, and it was clear that we didn’t know whether to be nervous or relieved. Walking towards the door, I wretched it open. “Hello there officers.” There were two pudgy looking detectives on the other side of the door. “I see the NYPD sent their best.” I heard Ivy breath sharply behind me. I couldn’t stop the sarcasm in my voice.
“Marco Blanchi?” One of the detectives showed me his badge. “I’m Detective Alvez. This is my partner Detective Scott.” If you’d put the two men in a lineup, I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart from any other middle aged, fat, slightly balding white guy.
“What can I do for you?” I angled my body so that they couldn’t see inside the house. We’d managed to get Ivy out of dodge before the police could start sniffing around. Fortunate, considering that she was the only person they knew had been in the same place as the person they were looking for.
“We aren’t actually here to see you,” Detective Scott said.
“Oh?” I played dumb. I knew who they were looking for, and I did not have any intention of handing her over. Despite everything, I wasn’t entirely sure that Ivy wouldn’t turn me in. It was why I kept her brother’s illness in play.
Neither detective was very pleased with my playing dumb. “Ivy Hope here?” Alvez asked.
“Why?”
The detectives were starting to get testy. I knew the signs. When I’d been arrested, they’d enjoyed pushing me around. I’d been cuffed and helpless. They’d found me standing over a dead body with a gun, so they figured I was going to prison.
The sound of rustling behind me caused me to tense. I knew that Ivy was coming up behind me about to blow everything to hell. No matter what I did, Ivy always seemed to do the opposite of what I needed.