From his silence, I could tell he knew I was right.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Help me clean up and then get the body to the Gilligans. I want Ivy to be able to bury her brother.”
His disapproval came down the line. “That’s not a good idea, Jay.”
“I don’t care. I’m doing it for Ivy. It’s the least she deserves.”
“You care about this girl then,” he said. “It’s not just fucking?”
“No. I love her, but now it’s too late. Everything is fucked.” I dragged my hand through my hair, clawing my nails into my scalp, deliberately hurting myself. “Maybe I should have just let Bruno kill me.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Let me contact a clean-up crew. It’ll be like this never happened.”
I highly doubted that, but I appreciated the support. A part of me just wanted to hand myself over to the Gilligans and tell them to finish the job. The only thing stopping me from doing so was Hallie and her baby. She deserved more. I couldn’t put her through the same grief that Ivy was going through now.
Chapter Twenty
Ivy
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FREDRICK DROVE ME TOmy father’s house.
I sat on the back seat of the Range Rover, in the same place I’d given my virginity to Jay, staring down at the dried blood on my hands and clothes. My brother’s blood. I alternated between being overwhelmed with unimaginable pain and being numb with grief. I wasn’t going back to my place. I needed to be with what remained of my family, to tell them what had happened and to try to figure out what would happen next.
They had been in my house, had tossed the place for the key to Jay’s place. I didn’t know if Bruno had acted alone or if my other brother and father had something to do with it, too. I was furious with them for putting this chain of events into motion, but I was too heartsick to hate them for it. I’d lost Jayden now, as well as my brother, and I couldn’t comprehend how I was going to get through each day. But I knew if I didn’t do something, and fast, my family would want their revenge. As much as I hated Jayden for what he’d done, I couldn’t let them kill him as well.
The concierge stopped outside the modern concrete-and-glass, multi-million-pound house I indicated to him.
“I hope you’ll be okay,” he said as I climbed out of the vehicle.
I just nodded, unable to speak. I slammed the door shut behind me. I could barely think straight. My entire head felt stuffy from all the crying, my eyes stung, and I struggled to breathe. My legs barely carried me to the front gate where I rang the buzzer over and over. He’d be able to see me on the security monitor and know to let me in.
Sure enough, the smaller part of the gate clicked open, and I pushed my way through.