Georgia

The next morning Ivy woke and knew it wasn't a dream. She was entangled in Lax's arms, his leg draped heavily over her thighs. She smiled and bit his shoulder lightly. The tragic events of the previous day had brought them closer together. He'd come to her after the boy was killed.

He opened his eyes squinting at the light and smiled back.

"You have somewhere to be this morning?" She asked.

"Technically I should head back to the warehouse. Don't want any suspicion especially after yesterday…" His voice trailed off.

"Well later then. Can you meet me? There's somewhere I wanna take you."

He nodded, curiously, but he winced. "Ivy...about last night...what I told you...that kid..."

"Lax, you did what you had to do. Remember that."

"You know I need you right?"

After Lax had left, Ivy lay on her bed and gazed at the crack in the ceiling as always. Today the thin line marring the plaster that seemed to go nowhere didn't make her feel hopeless or useless. She felt part of someone, part of something bigger than herself. She also had to admit she savored the feeling of being thoroughly fucked. She felt like she'd had a workout and taken the best antidepressant in the world.

She found him. The person whose smell made everything tingle, tense up and heightened every sense in her body. It was the most invigorating feeling to find someone she was so attracted to, both physically and emotionally. A total high. When she was with him, she wanted to please him, make him smile, touch him and kiss him. When they were apart she yearned for the calm she felt while in his arms. She couldn't ignore the chemistry she had with Lax. They made each other laugh and think.

She showered and dressed, feeling more excited than she had in ages. She pulled on a faded denim mini skirt and black tank top stepped into her boots and took one last look at her face in the mirror. She laughed at herself feeling like a smitten teenager.

The tires of Ivy's black Buick kicked up dust as she pulled over to Lax, waiting by a tree on a back road outside Surville near the highway onramp as they'd planned. He was dressed in his usual attire of jeans, black t-shirt, and docs but wore no braces today.

They drove about thirty minutes until they reached the right turn off and were soon rolling through a small university town. Ivy pointed to the large stone building on Lax's right. "That's the college where my daddy teaches. This is Brandt."

"I had no idea this place was around. Civilization." He let out a breath for dramatic effect.

They parked and stepped out of the car into the heat of the late afternoon. Lax noticed a vintage clothing shop, used record store, and a bookstore. It was like being back in a small corner of the real world.

"Okay are you ready for this?" She playfully took his hand "Best double espresso outside of New York City." Ivy smiled as she led him into to the small coffee shop. Alternate Grind had a ramshackle, bohemian air. As she placed, their order Lax had to give his eyes time to adjust to the shadowed interior. They took a window seat.

"This is like a haven for me." She sighed happily

Lax nodded, understanding completely. He drank in the warm atmosphere. He loved the glow of the mahogany counter, buzz of the espresso machines, whirring of milk steaming, the chatter of the patrons, Billie Holiday singing, the smell of vanilla and coffee.

"So, do you feel kind of normal again?" She asked.

"Real coffee are you kidding? I feel great. " He looked up over his New York times. "And this." He crinkled the newspaper. "I mean I haven't read any real news that isn't filtered through Gall since..."

She smiled.

"What?"

"I knew. I just knew from the first time I met you that you weren't like them…you are smart. You are normal." She laughed.

"Normal? That's relative...I'm glad no one else caught on though…which brings us to….us."

She looked up from her coffee.

"So we need to talk. I mean if this is happening we have to do it safely."

"Like slipping around?"

... ... .. ... .. ... ... .. ... ... .. ... .. .. .. .

Over the next couple of weeks, Lax and Ivy escaped to the little town of Brandt as often as they could. They were free there and didn't have to hide their relationship. They drank coffee, walked arm in arm in public, browsed the shops and talked. Hours and hours of talking. At night back in Surville, Lax would sneak in her bedroom window for the slipping around part. He complained he felt like a teenager but always gave her a smile when he said it. Ivy didn't want her dad to know about them until after Lax's assignment ended.

They managed to make it work and most importantly no one was suspicious about Lax 's cover.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... .. .. ... ...

The drive back to Surville from Brandt seemed too brief to Ivy that day and she felt a strange twist in her gut she wasn't sure why. Lax was especially quiet as he gazed out the window smoking, taking in the trees and trucks passing on the highway. She pulled over to the side of the road outside of town. As usual Lax would walk the rest of the way from the secluded spot. A safe place to drop him off unseen. The sun was setting into dusk adding to his cover.

"So that was a nice date." He smiled seeming more relaxed and attentive. "Now I get to kiss you goodnight." He turned slightly and looked at her with his legs apart, that confident smile on his face. His arms opened toward her gesturing for her to lean in and kiss him.

"Hey you," she said and in an instant his strong, warm hands were on her waist and his tongue was in her mouth. That's all it took for Ivy. She felt the butterflies in her stomach and wanted more. Her palms slid under his black t-shirt and their kisses deepened. Slowly but surely her body began to melt until all of her weight was pressed against him. The taste of him made her mind go blank and her juices started to flow. "Fuck...Don't you have to go? You're late already... the meeting with Gall..."

He ignored her words and whispered "Sit on my leg, baby, rub your pussy on my leg."

She loved when he told her what to do.

She moved over to the passenger seat and opened her leg on his lap, slid down slowly, straddled his thighs and kissed him gently.

"That's my girl. That's more like it," he groaned.

She felt his hands grope her hips and round ass. When she arched her back, he instinctively pushed her crotch hard into his thigh. He knew exactly what to do to make her wet. He was playing with her, teasing her, bouncing his leg up and down and she giggled until her breath came in heavy pants when she felt her clit rubbing on his jeans.

His fingers tangled in her hair while he kissed her fiercely. He pulled away and his husky voice whispered hotly in her ear "I want to slide my hand into your panties and finger you so bad."

He was driving her crazy and getting off on it.

"Fuck," She whimpered "I can't take this."

She felt his cock start to swell through his jeans. She wanted to pull up her skirt and ride him until she came which wouldn't take long she was so ready for it. He was such a fucker doing this when he knew he had to go. Lax surprised her when he took his left hand, shoved her panties aside and pushed one finger past the folds of Ivy's pussy. She let out a gasp and pushed her hips down hard into his hand.

"That's it baby," Lax said, "You like it when I finger fuck your pussy don't you?"

All she could do was nod into his heaving chest. As his finger pushed in and out, he turned it upwards finding her g-spot. Her breathing became heavier and her moans louder. Her hips rotated down steadily into his hand as aching heat began to spiral up desperate for release.

"God baby, don't stop," she told him breathlessly, "It feels so fucking good."

Lax heeded her warning and kept rhythmically fingering her. He felt Ivy wetter and warmer which only increased his own arousal. Before long, he felt her pussy clamp down on his finger.

"Oh fuck..." Ivy moaned as she came hard on his skilled fingers. She looked up still panting. Finally calming down she remembered he had to go.

"You are gonna be late...you can't..."

He swallowed her words with his kiss and put her hand on his erection waiting for her behind his belt buckle. She fumbled with it and opened his pants trying to tug them down over his hips. He raised his pelvis to aid her, but the small space made their attempts at intimacy awkward. Lax let out a frustrated groan, grabbed Ivy's arm and pulled her into the back seat with him.

"But you can't stay." She leaned over him locking eyes in the dim light as he pulled his shirt off.

"You telling me to go?" His voice was sandpaper as he moved his hands over her breasts massaging her rock hard nipples, pushing the material of her shirt until she obliged him and removed it.

She shook her head.

"Then touch me. Just fucking touch me." He rasped.

Ivy smiled at him and asked "You really want it tonight, don't you babe?"

Lax responded by looking into her eyes and shaking his head up and down. She reached through Lax's boxers and grabbed his cock with her hand. She looked at him slyly and began to stroke it gently while he leaned back up against the door of the car and relaxed, grunting with pleasure.

"I know how much you like this," Ivy whispered in his ear.

She knew it would drive him crazy if she started talking to him. Her hand softly worked up and down his hard erection, slowly pumping it in a steady rhythm. She took her other hand and lightly began to play with his balls, caressing them carefully. She could feel the pre-cum began to leak out of the tip of his member as she jacked him off and knew he was starting to enjoy himself.

"Not so fast Ives, calm down," he told her sternly, "We're just getting started." She stopped massaging him, just held his cock in her hand and locked eyes with him. She slowly lowered her head down toward his erection but suddenly veered away. She softly sucked on the inside of his right thigh and then his left, before kissing the base of his dick. She ran her tongue all the way up the length of his erection before circling her tongue on the tip of his cock several times. Lax moaned and thrust upward, attempting to force his cock into her mouth but Ivy just smiled.

"God you taste so fucking good."

She saw his dick twitch with excitement at her words, and she could feel herself even wetter between her legs. She teased him in this manner for several minutes, licking his member up and down lightly, but refusing to lower her mouth down onto him.

Finally, she began to slowly lower her head down onto his cock taking all of him deep into her mouth. She bobbed up and down on his erection coating his member in saliva. Lax reached down and began to play with her hair, enjoying the sexy view of his girl sucking him off. He smiled to himself and grunted softly. He could feel the familiar sensation of pleasure rise up from the bottom of his dick as Ivy worked his cock with her warm, wet mouth.

"Shit... you make me feel so fucking good," Lax gasped as Ivy continued bobbing up and down on him.

Ivy felt Lax's dick began to swell in her mouth and she knew he was about to come. She pulled off, looked him in the eyes and said, "Lax I need you to fuck me. Hard."

He quickly climbed on top of her staring deep into her eyes. He tugged her skirt and panties down for her to shimmy them off. He grabbed his dick and ran his head gently up and down her pussy lips, spreading them lightly. Ivy moaned and rolled her hips up eager to take his hard cock into her. Lax couldn't wait any longer and as he slid slowly into Ivy she let out a satisfying gasp. Her hands grabbed his hips and attempted to slide his cock in and out of her cunt faster.

"Fuck me Lax. Make me yours," she moaned at him.

Lax lost it. He thrust into her harder and faster, grunting with satisfaction. He loved making her pussy his, fucking her hard and letting her know that she was his. Lax started thrusting faster making Ivy moan louder. He grabbed her hips and pulled them into him as he thrust forcing her pussy take his cock deeper. Before long, he could feel the heat and pleasure rise up from the base of his dick. He fucked her harder, desperate to release inside her.

"I'm gonna come," he grunted.

Ivy licked her lips and nodded as she felt Lax's cock swell up inside of her wet pussy. "Me too..." she moaned. She could feel him unleash his seed inside her again and again as her own orgasm swelled and she swore she saw stars. Lax grunted and pulled out once he was finished, hugging Ivy tightly into his chest. Ivy curled up on top of him and gave a satisfied sigh.

Finally, they dressed and he admitted. "It's fucking late. I'm gonna get my ass handed to me."

"It was worth it though?" She asked as they climbed out of the back seat.

"Hell yeah." He stood and stretched rolling his shoulders. He smoothed his hair back with his palms. His last words to Ivy were. "I'll be over tonight. Its gonna be different don't worry. This meeting is important. I'll see you soon."

She watched him disappear as the darkness of the road swallowed up his form.

Ivy returned to the car, turned the radio on and tried to compose herself. She wondered briefly what he meant when he'd said things would be different. She headed home already anticipating being with him again later.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... .. . .. . .. .

"So, if we move when the 'bama boys do, there's no way we won't..." Gall was pointing to his tactical map on the wall gesturing to Lax when commotion and shouting reverberated from the first floor of the warehouse. Shouting, breaking glass and a loud 'FBI! Get the fuck down!' could be heard.

"Vic what the fuck's going on?"

"Looks like the Feds are here." Lax snorted sarcastically.

"Do they have a search warrant?"

"Yes, they do."

"Then don't just stand there, get going Vic! We got to burn them documents." Gall ordered still not grasping the situation.

"Won't do any good. I already gave them the files."

"Why would you do that?"

"I was planning on doing that before I shook your hand for the first time."

You Bullshitting me son?

"No Sean, I 'm proud to say I'm not. "

"All this time..."

"Every godforsaken minute of it."

At that moment, the agents thundered up the stairs and reached the second-floor office.

"You are one slimy bastard Vic. A real rat huh? " Gall said as men in suits started rifling trough his desk.

"Ivy know? Ivy a part of this her and her old man?" Gall gave a look that actually chilled Lax.

"Leave her out of this she has nothing to do with it. And my name's Morales, by the way, Lax Morales. I'm part Mexican. How do feel about that, huh?"

"You can call yourself what you want boy. But there is a reason I trusted you. I saw it in your eyes. Deep down, you know it too."

The noise of more FBI agents storming the warehouse could be heard. An agent placed the cuffs on Gall.

"Goodbye, Sean. I hope you enjoy getting fucked in prison." Lax smiled bitterly.

"Boy, you don't know how it works. I'll be seeing you again. Don't you worry your pretty little head about that? Ivy too, yeah I'll be seeing her again too."

"Lax lunged for Gall but was held back by an officer.

"Oh and Vic, now you got the taste of blood in your mouth there ain't no going back to what you was...brother."

After they had taken the skinheads away. Chuck said, "Ready Lax? The plane leaves in an hour."

"What? I thought I'd have time to sort stuff out here."

"We have to report back immediately that means you too. Besides, don't you a have article to start writing. Hell, this would make a book."

"But I gotta see someone first...I..."

"Not how it works. We can't let you out of our sight. It's how we do it. It's all official. So grab whatever you have here and get in the car we are outta this shithole town."

Lax nodded. He'd call Ivy from the airport to let her know what happened and arrange for her to fly to New York, Washington or he'd come back. It would work out. She'd understand. She knew how important this was. He stopped the race war. As he got pats on the back from the agents, he felt better and adrenaline still surged from his victory. Yeah, he'd call her. She'd understand.

In the whirlwind of the trial, the book deal and Isa's pushing his publicity, Lax would keep putting off that phone call. The longer he put it off, the guiltier he felt and the less sure he was of what to say. As more time passed the worse, he felt. The worse he felt the easier it was to avoid the call. After a while, he even convinced himself she was safer without any contact with him. She was better off without him and the potential threat he posed now. The brotherhood had him on their hit list, probably would forever in some form or another. Ivy was better off without him. His thoughts circled each other in this way until they made sense and he truly believed he was doing right by her.

He loved her enough to stay away.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .

Earlier that evening was the last time Ivy had seen Lax. For the next couple of hours, Surville was the center of a blackout as the raid went down. The FBI moved in on the Brotherhood and turned the town upside down and inside out. She stayed home with her father listening to the sirens and helicopters, watching black sedans move in. It took everything she had to keep her daddy home. He wanted to involve himself and help take down Gall. Ever the crusader. Keeping an eye on Harlan distracted her but all the while Ivy waited, sure that Lax would call to let her know he was okay...let her know what to do. She waited. He never called. The next morning she learned the FBI left. Lax left with them.

. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .

The next month was a blur. After the red and black backlit ultraviolence of the raid and the dog attack came multiple surgeries. She stopped expecting a call from Lax Morales. The physical pain subsided leaving Ivy with the emotional pain of his abandonment. Gone. Lax was gone. He hadn't said goodbye.

The gritty surface of the roof outside her bedroom window dug red pinpoints into her bare thighs, but she hardly noticed. She brought the bottle of Jim Beam to her lips for another searing gulp and hissed as the burn turned to numbness in her belly. Her sigh came out as a sob and she let her head fall loosely on her neck, her face twisting into a grotesque mask of pain. Fuck. Fuck him. Fuck them all.

She fingered the stitches and forming scars on her face. Permanent reminders.

She was done. Out of here. There was no way she was going to put up with this bullshit anymore. People walking all over her, treating her like she was some kind of communal whipping post just because she'd been sleeping with that FBI guy who came in and turned Surville upside-down. The racists named her traitor and the liberals called her a troublemaker who had had rocked the boat, messed with the equilibrium. Either way she felt like a pariah. She didn't belong here.

It would have all been bearable, kind of, as long as she had him to turn to the way he promised her she would.

Jesus, he hadn't said goodbye. She wanted to see it in his eyes. Motherfucker.

"I waited for you...you never came through." She said aloud.

She took another long pull from the bottle and coughed mid-swallow, the burn invading her sinuses and giving her another excuse for the tears streaming down her cheeks. When her eyes finally stopped watering they fell on the horizon, vaguely registering the thin streaks of pink beginning to appear in the clouds. Sunrise. She dug the little silver rectangle out of the pocket of her shorts, the white lining of her pocket coming with it, dropping bits of denim lint onto the glittering shingles. The metal was smooth and warm under her thumb as she ran it over the smooth surface. The Zippo lighter was all she had left of him. He'd forgotten it in her room that night he'd come to her after he was involved in killing that kid. She'd kept it. The top flipped open easily and the heavy smell of butane settled in the back of her throat, but her thumb just caressed the wheel without striking it.

She would have loved him forever. Forever. That's what he'd said.

Liar. "Goddamn, motherfucking liar!" Her voice surprised her when it came out thick and slurred. She must have drunk way more than she thought. The rosy glow in the east grew and she held the bottle up to the light, measuring her drunkenness in amber inches.

Fuck. Her thumb struck the wheel. Fuck him. The flame glowed with gentle warmth in her hand. Fuck them all.

She stood unsteadily on the pitched surface and turned the bottle up. It splashed against her bare feet, surprisingly warm, and ran down the roof away from her, soaking into the shingles as it went. Her eyes lifted again to the sunrise, which in another mood she might have considered a beautiful promise of a fresh new day.

The tiny flame in her hand seemed more promising to her at the moment. She crouched down and touched it to the wet spot at her feet and it caught, dancing licks of pale blue chasing each other down the roof in the direction the liquid had run. It was mesmerizing and for a few minutes she just stood there, caught in its dim glow.

Time to go. The edge of the roof cut into her fingers as she lowered herself down, feet seeking the purchase she knew was there. She'd done this a hundred times before, climbing down from her secret getaway spot. Of course, she wasn't usually quite this drunk.

Where the fuck was that window sill?

Her toes reached, stretching further than she knew they needed to and her fingers trembled with the effort of holding on. Her head spun from whiskey and panic and her legs frantically bicycled against the vinyl siding. She looked down trying to see her foothold, but all she saw was the driveway, blurred and wobbly, impossibly far away. And getting closer

Warm sunlight spread over the house as the light dimmed in her eyes. The thick liquid running down the driveway toward the gutter slowly turned from black to red as the earth lit up. On the roof, the blue flames burned themselves out and disappeared. In the driveway lay broken things. An empty bottle. A silver lighter.

Broken things but not a broken girl. Ivy a was a woman not easily broken. She'd made her choice to love Lax...if he didn't love her back, well...fuck him. She'd return to New York City, to a time and place before she ever met Lax Morales. She would survive and use her pain to thrive in spite of him.