Blake: A Bad Boy Romance (24 page)

Chapter Forty-Five

It was his worst nightmare laid out in front of him like some sick and violent painting. Ivy splayed out on the floor, splattered with blood and Darryl standing over her with a gun in his hand. His entire life had been a grand preparation for this moment. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t pause. He ran at Darryl. He swung his gun towards Blake, but he was ready. Blake grabbed the barrel of the gun and pointed it towards the floor as he brought his head back and then slammed it forward.

Blake headbutted Darryl. The other man cried out and his grip loosened on his gun. Blake grabbed it, reared back, and punched Darryl hard on the left temple. He punched him again and again until Darryl finally fell back on the floor—unconcious.

Ivy was on her feet and stumbling towards him and she fell into his arms as he held her tightly against him while he watched Darryl to make sure he didn’t move.

“Are you all right? Are you all right?” he asked, but he spoke swiftly and she nodded as she leaned against him and sobbed into his chest. He heard sirens outside. “The police are here. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered as he ran his hands up and down her back and tried to stop her shuddering and sobbing. 

The police poured into the room and ambulances were called as a dazed Darryl was placed in handcuffs and was led out. Blake and Ivy watched him, still holding each other close. He gave one last angry look back at them, but it bothered them not. He was nothing more than a petulant child. He had no more power over them. He had gone too far and the state would see to him now.

***

“Does it look bad?” Ivy asked as she looked in the mirror, turning this way and that. There was a large purple bruise over her right eye. It had gone down somewhat in the last few days, but it still looked painful and was a mottled purple and yellow color.

“Don’t worry about it,” Blake said as he walked up behind her and kissed her neck. “It will fade soon enough and it won’t leave a scar.”

She looked at him in the mirror as he traced light kisses up her neck and she smiled softly towards his reflection. Together they faced the throng of reporters and protesters outside of the courthouse. Cameras and boom mics pushed into their personal space as Blake held Ivy’s hand and guided her into the far quieter courthouse. This wasn’t a trial; it was a sentencing. Darryl had pled guilty. Now all that was left was to see how long of a sentence he would get. The prosecution was asking for twenty years; the defense was asking that Darryl be sent back to the mental institution he had escaped from.

Ivy had her day in court. She sat on the stand and told the judge everything. Every horrible terrible thing Darryl had ever done to her. There was evidence piled up in front of him. Blake watched her, he encouraged her with her eyes, he told her anytime she became nervous she should look at him and remember he was always with her. A few times in her testimony when words failed her she looked over Blake and with a deep breath she was able to continue.

His co-conspirators and the various people he had paid to help him came forward and spoke against him. In the end there was no one to speak for Darryl. The defense had only a lone psychologist claiming wealth had corrupted him and he was just as much a victim as Ivy.

Blake watched the judge as the psychologist gave his ridiculous and paid for testimony. But through raised eyebrows and frowns the judge showed that he was less than interested in what the man was saying.

Blake sat next to his mother and next to her was Jonas. He hadn’t spoken to the other man since their last confrontation and neither had Ivy. But he was here and that was all that mattered. When Ivy was done she came back and they all sat together and waited. As the evidence was counted, the judge left to deliberate and the room was emptied.

Outside they stood at a street vendor and sipped on oversweet coffee. Blake stood off to one side with his mother while Jonas turned to face his daughter. “I’m sorry,” he said looking down at his coffee. “I’m sorry about what I said about you and Blake. Blake is a good lad and I’ve always liked him. I just...Ellen and I have talked about it a great deal and I just wanted to apologize. You are both adults and if being together makes you happy I won’t stand in the way of that.”

“He does make me happy,” Ivy said taking Blake’s hand. “Very happy.”

“And he protects you. A father couldn’t ask for anything more. I only hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course, Dad,” Ivy said. She put her coffee dad and the father and daughter walked towards each other and embraced.

Jonas held Ivy in his hands and they stood like that for a moment as the rain fell lightly around them. Weights were being lifted from from Blake’s shoulders. Darryl was in jail, Ivy and Jonas had reconnected. Things were falling into place. All their trouble, all of the things they had been through. Was it possible that soon it was all finally be over?

When the judge declared his sentence a tear slid down Ivy’s face. Fifteen years in prison. She wiped the tear away and smiled at Blake and they hugged as Darryl, in his handcuffs, was led away. Blake watched him go and breathed a final sigh of relief. He was gone and Ivy was here. It was over, it was finally over. They were safe and happy and could be together.

Chapter Forty-Six

Ivy gave a half-smile to the cameras that kept zooming to her face. Every now and then she would look up at the large screen and she would see her own face looming over her. Her blush would creep up on her cheeks and she would quickly look away hoping the camera could find someone else to put on the screen. She refused to do anything interesting; she still hated to be on camera.

The crowd was loud to the point of deafening. People were talking and shouting and standing at their seats. Next to her Ellen and Jonas were talking quietly to each other. It was one of the strange things where you could only hear someone if they were whispering. The big fight. Ivy wasn’t quite prepared for how big it was.

The arena sat ten thousand people and it was filled. Every last seat was taken up by someone. There was a large VIP section where celebrities and politicians mingled and sipped champagne and ate canapés. The air was festive. There was a live band playing and confetti fell from the ceiling like snow.

In front of her on raised dais was the cage where Blake would fight. But it didn’t rattle her like it used to. She knew there was nothing to be frightened of in there. Blake could handle himself; she had seen that first hand. Darryl had been standing over her with a gun and Blake hadn’t hesitated. He had disarmed him and beaten him easily. Blake versus a man with a gun and Blake walked away unscathed. She felt bad for the man who was about to fight him. He had no idea what he was in for.

He could handle anything and so could she. He could go into that ring and win or lose and it wouldn’t matter. It was the fight itself that mattered. It was about strength, about who had worked more and Ivy finally understood that. No one had worked harder than the two of them. They had gone through hell and come out the other side stronger for it.

The lights went down everyone took their seats as the announcer took to the middle of the cage and an old-fashioned mic was lowered down to him. He took the microphone and with a big smile he intoned, “Ladies and gentleman! Tonight, it is the fight to end all fights.”

Ivy smiled at the announcer as he spoke. This wasn't the fight to end all fights. That had happened in Blake’s own home and he had already won that battle.

A spotlight fell on a door towards the back of the arena and when the announcer called Blake’s name the noise became truly deafening as the crowd jumped to their feet and cheered for Blake. He came out of the locker room wearing a pair of blue shorts and a blue robe with hood pulled up over his head. He looked serious and stern as he marched down the aisle ignoring the many people who reached out to him to touch him or pat him on the back.

He strode up to Ivy and when he passed her turned and gave her a smirk that she returned. He strode up into the cage and let his robe fall revealing his well-muscled frame.
Let the fighters come
,
Ivy thought with a smile. Blake was going to win; she was sure of it.

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I grew up in a small town outside of Palm Coast, FL. Raised in a house just a short walk to the beach, I enjoyed the peaceful, relaxed atmosphere and friendships that come from being raised in a friendly, small town area.

I now reside in Breckenridge Colorado, where I work as an accountant, along with my night time writing. I am married with two children, two dogs, and a pile of friends and family dotted all over the country that help keep me sane.

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And here is the description of the short story so you know what you're getting into!

He arrives on his screaming machine, but it's his body that ends up screaming for more - of her

Jessica Mallet is about to leave her florist's when Eric Burns' bike trundles into her parking lot with every intention of parking there all night. 

When Eric takes a flaming rose and hands it to Jessica, it's enough to make her forget her responsibilities, enough to forget where she is and what's appropriate. 

The thorns prick her goose bumped skin but that's nothing compared to what her body aches for--that moment when Eric removes petal after petal and lets the real flower inside her blossom...

I’m a heart-breaker, a lady-killer

Mason

I’ll be your prince charming for the night, but come morning, you best get the f*** out of my bed.

Then I met Caroline, and everything changed.

One taste of her and I’m hooked.

One taste and I know I had to have more.

She thinks I’m a monster. The last thing she needs.

But that’s not going to stop me from making her MINE.

Caroline

I hate bikers. Especially Mason Butler. Handsome looks and all the tattoos in the world aren’t going to hide what he is underneath.

A monster.

A monster who tied me down in his bed...

… and left my throat throbbing and raw from screaming his name.

A monster who’s just getting started.

A monster who won’t stop until he makes me HIS.