New York City
"What are you saying?"
"Nothing. Forget it, I shouldn't have gone there. I said too much. " She shook her head and stepped away from him.
"You can't drop something like that and then not finish. What happened to you Ivy?"
"After you left…"
"They put the motherfuckers in prison right?" Lax interrupted. "You were safe. I asked my handler, he told me all Gall's guys were locked up."
She shook her head. "Gall was locked up."
"Shit. What are you saying?"
"I thought I knew those guys..." her voice trailed off.
"What happened Ivy?"
"You left. I didn't. The Brotherhood was pissed. They needed to get payback. Put it together."
She turned to her work table and busied herself by flipping through her sketchbook. She'd said too much. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Was it supposed to happen at all? She wondered. She switched gears completely throwing Lax off when she went on "You know I'll need more time for this piece. I have to draw it up before I start. Do you wanna get a drink with me?"
Lax looked at his watch.
"Unless you have an appointment…"
"No, but I 'm supposed to get a flight to Iowa later tonight, for a story."
She nodded. "Why don't you call me when you get back. I'll do the tattoo then. And... we can talk more." She twisted her mane of crimson hair into a knot on top of her head and secured it with two colored pencils. Lax restrained himself from leaning over and kissing her exposed neck. His mouth yearned to return that familiar spot she loved him to kiss.
"Ivy why are you so…cryptic?"
"Because it's not easy to talk about. I never thought I'd see you again." She swallowed hard and tilted her head. "I never wanted to see you again."
"Want and need are two different things."
Her eyes widened. He couldn't leave her. Not now. Not yet. Isa crossed his mind as well as the story. "So how about that drink?"
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Georgia
Lax took in Gall's words and felt a stab of regret pierce his adrenaline high when Ivy's name had come up. Gall specifically told him to stay away from her. He was so close now...this was why he'd come down here in the first place. Ivy was... Ivy was a complication. He cleared his throat. "Um sir, " he said and looked back at Gall's desk. "Since I'm your captain maybe there's some more you want to tell me about these strikes.'
Gall's eyes lit up. "Now?"
"I mean I can get a tattoo any time. But this …this is important. "
"See there you go. That's what I like to hear. C'mon I got something to show you." Lax followed him back to his desk. Gall took out a black binder and handed it to Lax. "That right there is everything."
Lax looked at the Grail in his hands. This was it. This was everything he needed to take the motherfuckers down. But Ivy, she could get hurt. She could get him hurt.
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Ivy began packing up her equipment, still scanning for Vic. He hadn't come down from Gall's office yet. She wanted to see him before she left. She slowly put plastic bottles of ink and her tattoo machines into her case, stalling. After a half hour, she decided to leave despite being worried about him. Why hadn't he come back? Had someone seen them? Was he in trouble? She felt her stomach flip with anxiety because she had no way to find out if Vic was okay.
She'd go to the diner tomorrow.
Driving back over the bridge on her way home she was filled with a warmth she'd never experienced before. Vic had told her he loved her. She felt the same. It might seem soon, but there was an undeniable connection she couldn't explain. They belonged together they just fit. It scared her though because even though she'd found that notebook, she wasn't sure what it meant. It wasn't proof that he wasn't one of them until she heard it from him. Still he was confident and reassuring when he said they'd figure it out. He had something to tell her.
She pulled into her driveway around 3 am. The night was beautiful. The sky clear, stars bright around a crescent moon. She lay down on the front lawn the lush grass a feather bed and gazed up at the sky. Like she did as a little girl. She'd come outside in the middle of the night and lay on the grass sometimes watching the sun rise taking the day shift from the moon as it retired for the night. The sky looked different in Georgia than New York. It seemed closer to the earth and had more rich darkness. She closed her eyes and remembered Vic's touch, renewed his words.
She turned her head to the side and opened her eyes. She was eye level with a pair black steel toed boots with red laces. She flicked her glance up Vic's body standing beside her.
"You're here."
He sat beside her, pulling his knees up.
"You're okay? When you didn't come back down I couldn't help it, I was worried." She played with the chain dangling from his belt attached the wallet in his back pocket. The steel was cold and heavy as it slid through her fingers.
"I'm fine."
"C'mon in." Ivy offered sitting up and taking his hand.
He shook his head.
"Why not? It's okay, my dad sleeps like a rock." She began to run her hand up his thigh. He moved it from his leg.
She tsk'd and moved in for a kiss.
"Ivy stop."
He was silent for a few seconds. Lax felt sick to his stomach noticing her face tense up and become suspicious. The entire walk over here he'd been filled with dread. He had to break her heart and it was killing him.
"Gall made me captain tonight. Do you know what that means?"
"I think so…"
"I rank now. I can't be with someone who isn't involved in the movement. I can't see you anymore Ivy. I could get you killed."
"But.."
"Gall made it clear. He specifically told me to stay away from you. I know about your father too. "
'What the hell…?'
Her heart began to race from the fear and dread she felt. She stared over at him and protested. "No, we are gonna figure this out. We can make it work. You said that. You told me we'd figure it out. "
"I'm sorry Ivy."
"No, help me. Help me figure out a way…"
He looked away.
"You said you loved me! That was a lie?"
Lax was silent. "I shouldn't have said it."
"But you did…"
"It was the heat of the moment…what can I say, I got carried away."
"Fuck you you bastard!" Ivy threw a punch at him. Lax ducked just in time. "I trusted you…I thought you were different. I…" Her voice got louder and she moved toward him punching his chest until he grabbed her wrists struggling to keep her still. "Ivy, shh.. c'mon ….stop…"
She leaned back willing no tears to fall.
"I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry."
"Answer my questions and tell me the truth. Am I just a piece of pussy for you? Or am I...?
"No." It was another one of Vic's short, one-word answers. There was a bit more silence. "You're..." He paused. It appeared that he was trying to come up with the proper words. "Ivy you're more than that to me."
She wanted to see if there was sincerity in his eyes. She stared at his face and believed she saw a man that was serious, at the moment. "Then why are you doing this? I know..." she licked her lips and sighed as if that would calm frayed nerves. She clasped his left wrist gently. "I know that just because we fucked that it doesn't have to mean that we're in a relationship. I just…well I thought I thought there was feeling, a connection. You felt it too I know you did. You said…"
Goddamn, she was making this hard harder than he thought it would be.
"What I am trying to say is that I hope that you don't see me as just a fuck. You didn't act that way before."
"You were right in the beginning. We are on different sides. I shouldn't have pushed you into this. I'm trying to protect you Ivy."
"I don't care. I told you It doesn't matter… "
"Well, it should!" He raised his voice in frustration. "I respect you. I know, judging from tonight, you probably don't believe me. But I do respect you and I never should have led you on like this. I can't be with you. It's too fucking dangerous."
"So you don't love me? "
He winced, his eyes becoming slits.
"Say it! Tell me you don't love me. Tell me what we have, what we did, means nothing to you."
"I don't love you Ivy. I said what I thought you wanted to hear. You don't mean anything to me. You are a...race traitor." He managed to get the vile words out. The shock on Ivy's face was almost enough to break him, he wanted to tell her the truth.
"Fine. Go. I never wanna see your fucking face again. You are just like them like all of them aren't you? I was so stupid..." her tears began despite her best efforts to withhold them. That fucking notebook probably doesn't belong to him after all.
He hesitated. She thought he was going to say something but instead, he got up and walked away. He didn't look back so Ivy didn't see him blinking away his own tears. Lax felt emptiness creeping in with every step he took further away from her. He felt cold despite the sticky humid air. He was alone. He breathed in deeply to compose himself. He was mercenary on a mission. He had to keep Ivy safe.
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Lax leaned over and refilled his FBI contact's iced tea. He began to wipe the table down to look inconspicuous as he spoke. "Every black, Hispanic , Asian, Indian and Jew in the state. This is it. They're looking to start a war. Gall expects sixty-seven percent of the other hate groups in the United States alone to launch similar strikes."
"So what are you telling me?"
"I have access to the documents you need with the right signatures to put the bastard away before he does it.'
"You are aware of the risk you would be taking by supplying said documents?" The agent asked seriously.
"What's the worst that happens? I die?" Lax asked with a shrug. "We all got to do it sometime, might as well do it right. Right?"
"There are worse things in this world than dying."
"It's worth it to me to find out."
"Why?" The agent asked.
"I have my reasons."
"Whats the time frame for delivery?"
"Two weeks. Just two more weeks." Lax said relieved it was almost over.
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It had been over a month since Ivy had seen Vic. After the night, he rejected her she avoided the diner and pretty much the whole town. Home and the tattoo shop became the extent of her world. The burn of rejection was not fading as fast she'd like. She kept looking at the notebook, wondering exactly what it meant.
"Ivy, I was just with Carl Daggett. He told me something." Harlan entered the kitchen where Ivy was finishing the grocery list. "A tragedy occurred over the bridge this afternoon which left a young man dead. A young African American boy. The tragedy stems from an ugly hate crime. The perpetrators were a gang of Neo-Nazi Skin Heads. Gall's men Ivy."
Ivy turned her head so quickly that a sharp pain burst in the tendon. She turned her attention to her father. Her pen fell from her hands and clattered on the tile floor. She had an out of body' experience, as clichéd as it sounds. She didn't feel normal. Her hands and feet tingled. There was a tennis ball-sized lump wedged into her throat. Everything appeared to slow down. She stared into the knowing eyes of her father. The notion that someone's twelve-year-old baby was slain and left in the middle of the street entered her mind. She began to wonder about his parents. Then all she could think about was that Vic was involved with the crime. She hadn't had contact with him for weeks. Not since that night. Maybe it was for the best. But was he really part of this…
"Of course it can't be proven, no witnesses will come forward. But it has all the signs."
"It's getting bad again isn't daddy?"
"Yes. I believe so."
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Later that night, Ivy fished for her house key in the bottom of her purse. The Pierce's never locked their doors before but with the recent activity by Gall's group her dad insisted they start. Ivy cursed the porch light that had burned out last week. It was at that moment when she first heard it. There was an inhale. A millisecond later, she heard an exhale. It was the sound of someone breathing.
She knew it hadn't come from her. Suddenly, she felt an odd but familiar feeling. A tingling heat. The last time she felt this sensation was over two months ago. Then she felt her body being pulled away from the storm door. Her purse slipped out of her hands. The plastic handles from the shopping bags dug cruelly into the skin of her left wrist. She felt a thick band of strength wrap around her midsection and another band of strength wrap around her collarbone and shoulders. She heard the sound of her keys hit the wooden floorboards of the porch and the storm door slam with a crack against the frame. Finally, she felt her body pulled against a surface that was hard.
As her levels of fear shot up, she followed her basic instinct which was to struggle against this person. She tried to elbow this person's torso, kick his shins with the heels of her boot and tried to stomp down on his toes. But she couldn't move.
There was a raspy groan which was followed by a gasp. The grip became tighter against her torso.
"Ivy."
Her stomach flipped.
"Ivy, please don't scream," His voice sounded softer. It sounded weaker. "No one can know I'm here."
"Vic?" She asked softly.
"Yeah, it's me," he murmured.
"Can you let me go?" she asked him.
"Y-Yeah."
He removed his arms from her torso. She quickly stepped away from him and turned to face him. "You didn't have to do that."
His right arm was pressed against his stomach as his body shook violently.
"What are you doing here?" She asked him trying to remain detached. He'd hurt her, rejected her.
"Can I come in..." His voice trailed off and he started gagging. He turned away from Ivy and leaned on the porch railing. He hunched over the railing and proceeded to vomit.
He continued to vomit while she walked over to stand next to his bent form and placed her hand on his back. She rubbed his solid back muscles as he emptied his stomach. His body trembled under her touch. Once the gagging and heaving stopped, he coughed a few times.
"Vic, have you been drinking?"
"No," he gasped.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Can I come inside?" he inquired again with a steady voice.
"Yeah," she said to him as she removed her hand from his back. "Of course you can come inside." Her resolve to stay neutral was crumbling.
She walked away from Vic and traveled to the back door. She retrieved her purse, keys and the other objects that were on the floor. After unlocking and opening the back door, she stepped inside of the dark kitchen and flipped on the light. She glanced over her right shoulder to stare at him still on the porch, struggling to stand upright. His body trembled as he slowly stood.
Something is wrong.
"Vic?"
"Yeah, I'm coming," His voice was strained.
Oh yeah, something is definitely wrong.
She dropped shopping bags on the floor, by the door and stepped back onto the porch walking to where Vic stood. She placed a supportive hand on his back and her other hand on his left wrist. She felt him tense up.
"Hey," she stroked his cheek. "Come on, let me help you," she told him before slipping her head in between his arm and ribs. In this position, she smelled the scent of blood and metal on him. It caused her stomach to turn with nausea. He finally started to relax under her hands. Ivy led him inside. She continued to hold him and to gently guide him upstairs to her room. He sat on the bed. He looked completely shell-shocked.
"What's wrong?" I haven't seen you in weeks, over a month and you show up like this…"
"Ivy, he was screaming… the kid he..the screams were...and he looked me in the eye... " As Vic rambled the muscles in her stomach painfully tightened while her throat constricted. A clammy chill clung to her skin. She was filled with dread. He was there.
"Vic what's wrong. What did you do?"
"Call me Lax. Please, Ivy." His hoarse voice cracked. "My name is Louis Anthony Xavier Morales."