Last Kiss Goodbye (14 page)

His cell phone trilled, and he flipped it open, his glare still fixed on Lumbar.

“Matt?”

“Ivy, what is it?”

“Someone just called and…threatened me.”

Panic pumped through Matt, and he pushed past Lumbar, out the door. “I’m on my way. Lock the doors and don’t open them for anyone but me, Ivy.” He sprinted toward his SUV, jumped inside and started the engine. His heart pounded as he sped toward the cabin.

IVY PACED BACK AND FORTH across the small room, stewing over the man’s warning, trying to place his voice, figure out if she knew him. That song haunted her. He had to have known about her mother’s collection.

What had his exact words been? “I’ll take care of you just like I did your mother.”

If he had killed her mom, then that meant her father hadn’t. Ivy sighed and clutched her robe around her neck. Relief spilled through her. At least she didn’t have to go through life thinking that one of her parents had murdered the other.

A small consolation for a life without a family.

Something scraped against the window. In the back, a noise reverberated against the thin wood of the cabin. Ivy jumped, certain someone was outside. What if he broke in before Matt arrived?

She needed a weapon. Her mind raced as she visually swept the room. She grabbed the fire poker, ready to use it if she needed to.

Tires squealed, and she ran to the window and peered outside, praying it was Matt, not the caller. The fog and rain made visibility difficult, but when the car lights flicked off, she recognized the SUV. Relief poured through her and she dropped the poker.

As soon as Ivy opened the door, Matt dragged her into his arms.

“God, Ivy, are you okay?”

She nodded against his chest. The leather of his jacket felt cold from the wind, but the warmth of his body found hers, and she nestled closer as he stroked her back. His breathing sounded choppy, his chest rising and falling against hers. The scents of rain, fear and need enveloped her.

“Thank you for coming, Matt. I didn’t know what to do.”

Slowly, he threaded one hand behind her head into her damp hair and pulled away, searching her eyes.

“Tell me exactly what he said.”

Ivy grappled for control and cleared her throat. “He said that he’d warned me, that he was going to take care of me just like he did my mother. And that music was playing in the background….”

Matt’s eyes narrowed. “What music?”

“‘Here Comes Santa Claus.’ Don’t you see, Matt? He knew about my mother’s collection of Santas. And he practically admitted that he killed her.” She hesitated. “That means my father didn’t.”

Matt clasped her hands, seeming to understand the significance of her comment. “Did you read the caller’s number?”

“It was an unknown again.”

“He’s probably calling from a throwaway cell. Makes it nearly impossible to trace.”

“What are we going to do now?” Ivy asked.

Matt caressed her cheek with his hand, but his gaze strayed to her neck, to the bruises from the boy’s fingers, and anger tightened his jaw.

“We’ll find out who it is. But for now, you need some rest. This has been a harrowing day for you.”

“I’m just glad you’re here, Matt. I…don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be,” he whispered. “I’m staying with you.”

Their gazes locked, questions standing between them. Heat surfaced. The need to touch Matt nearly overwhelmed her.

Matt cleared his throat. “If he calls back, I’ll answer.”

“What if he tries to break in?” Ivy asked.

A muscle ticked in Matt’s jaw. “Then I’ll kill him.”

The conviction in his cold statement shook Ivy to the core. But he was only trying to protect her.

“I don’t want to cause you trouble, Matt. Maybe we should call the sheriff.”

“I don’t trust A.J., Ivy.” His gaze bore into hers as he twirled a strand of her damp hair around his finger. “Do you trust me?”

Matt had just threatened to kill a man. She shouldn’t trust him.

But he would never hurt her. At least not physically.

“Ivy?”

The pain and uncertainty in his voice tore her heart in two. She’d tried to maintain her walls, but somehow Matt had managed to scale them. She couldn’t hurt him. Even if he broke her heart.

She cupped his jaw in her hands, unable to deny what she wanted. What she thought they both wanted.

“Yes, Matt, I trust you.” With a whisper of a sigh, she rose on her tiptoes, pulled his face closer, pressed her lips to his and kissed him.

His mouth felt warm, and he tasted of coffee and man, a heady combination. The faint memory of the boy trying to strangle her threatened to shatter the moment, but adrenaline surged through Ivy, reminding her that she had almost died earlier. She didn’t want to go to her grave without knowing how it felt to be close to Matt. And doing without the splendor of his kiss would be like dying.

MATT CLOSED HIS EYES, sinking every raging emotion into the kiss. Vying for tenderness slowed him only slightly. He wanted Ivy, had to know she was safe and alive in his arms. God, he’d almost lost her tonight. And now another threat…

A moan reverberated from her throat, and a surge of white-hot excitement shot through him. He ran his hands over her silky hair, drew her closer, probed her lips apart with his tongue and tasted the inside of her mouth. She was warm and sweet and delicious, like honey. His heart pounded, his body pulsing with raw desire, and he ran his hands down her shoulders, lowered his mouth to nibble at her neck, the sensitive lobe of her ear, then beyond her collarbone to tug the edges of her robe apart with his teeth. She sighed and dropped her head back, offering him deeper access, and he opened her robe, his chest tightening at the sight of her bare breasts. Pink rosebud nipples strained toward him. He cupped her glorious mounds in his hands, savoring the weight of them.

Her nipples tightened, and his mouth watered.

Reminding himself that this was Ivy, he lowered his head, then pressed tender kisses along the curve of her breasts, slowly inching his way toward her nipple. She groaned and her legs buckled, so he braced her with his other hand, still flicking his tongue southward until he drew her nipple into his mouth.

“Oh, Matt…” She shoved her hands into his hair. The thrill of her offering nearly undid him. He suckled her deeply, aching to throw her down and ravage her, but she tasted so sweet and was so beautiful that he ordered himself to fight the animal within him.

She wriggled her hips restlessly, and he moved to the other breast, feasting on it until she panted against him, whispering his name in a breathless sigh. “Matt…”

He raised his head and searched her glazed eyes, smiled at the haze of satisfaction and desire lighting them.

Then he lifted her, carried her to the bed and laid her gently on the sheets. Her robe parted, and he glimpsed heaven between her slender thighs. God, she was so perfect.

“Ivy, we should stop now. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Please, Matt, don’t torture me, then stop like that.”

“You deserve more than this, Ivy,” he said in a gruff voice. “You’re frightened, vulnerable. I’m…an ex-con.”

“You’re the man I want to be with tonight. And prison was a mistake.”

But it was still very much a part of him. The ugliness. The things he’d done.

He couldn’t touch Ivy with that ugliness.

A sudden memory of his first night in prison gripped him, and he shuddered. Sweat exploded on his face and his stomach heaved.

Shame washed over him and he spun away, trying desperately to banish the images. He’d only been a kid. Some of the brutes inside had decided to teach him a lesson. Break him in…

Matt’s lungs suddenly closed, and he choked on the bile rising to his throat.

“Matt…”

The present faded, blending into the past. The beatings. The…other. It had only been one night, and then he’d learned how to fight dirty….

But he couldn’t forget it. Couldn’t tell Ivy.

“I…I’m sorry, Ivy.”

Pain and grief stabbing at him, he yanked himself away from her, strode toward the door, then flung it open. He gasped for fresh air as he slammed the door behind him. But he couldn’t leave Ivy alone.

He couldn’t go back inside and make love to her, either.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE COLDNESS THAT SWEPT over Ivy kept her immobile for several seconds after Matt left the cabin, a coldness that had nothing to do with the hailing rain and heavy winds beating against the cabin. What had just happened? One minute she and Matt had been kissing, and he’d touched her with such want and hunger that she’d almost come apart in his arms. The next minute, pain and anguish had overridden his desires, and he’d run away as if he couldn’t stand to look at her.

The mood had changed as soon as she’d mentioned prison….

Did he still blame her for his conviction?

Aching from the loss, she gathered the robe around her and belted it, then slid off the bed, wondering what to do. She still wanted Matt. Craved his erotic touch. Her body burned from just thinking about the way his mouth had claimed her breasts. And she’d felt Matt’s hard length pushing against her. Had seen the need in his eyes and heard the hiss of his breath as he’d prolonged the pleasure.

Confused, and worried that she had done something wrong, she pushed open the door and searched the darkness. The wind rattled the tree branches, spewing rain onto the porch. Through the murky gray surrounding her, she spotted Matt leaning over the porch rail in the corner, staring out into the darkness. His back was to her, and his head was down as if he was engaged in a silent emotional battle.

“Go back inside, Ivy.”

His husky voice made her pause, but she needed to understand what had happened. If he blamed her or hated her, she could live with it. Or she’d try to make it up to him. Whatever.

But she couldn’t stand the chasm between them.

“Matt…” She walked toward him, reaching out her hand as she neared him, but drew back when he barked her name again.

“I said go back inside.”

“No.” Grateful that her voice remained steady, she continued. “Not until you explain why you pulled away from me.”

He made a growling sound deep in his throat. Did he think he was going to scare her off?

“I…did I do something wrong, Matt?” Sadness laced her voice, but she couldn’t help it. Finally, she’d felt safe with someone, had opened herself up to have a relationship, at least physically, and he had deserted her.

Matt dropped his head forward, a heavy sigh escaping. “God, no, Ivy. Don’t think that.”

She laid her hand on his shoulder, stroked the knotted muscle at his neck. So much tension. He stiffened, then swung around. The anguish in his eyes trapped the air in her lungs.

“What’s wrong, Matt?” she whispered. “Please tell me. Let me help you.”

“I won’t talk about it,” he said.

“I hurt you somehow. Just tell me what I did and I’ll fix it.”

“It’s not you, Ivy. Jesus, you’re perfect.”

Confusion blurred her head. “Perfect?” Her bitter laugh filled the air. “I’m hardly perfect, Matt. I blanked out half my childhood. I haven’t been able to let a man near me until you touched me. One guy…even called me a cold fish.”

“Bastard.” Matt couldn’t hide his anger. “You’re no cold fish, Ivy. I…you know that now or you wouldn’t have responded to me the way you did a few moments ago.”

“You’re right. I did respond. I wanted you, Matt, and I thought you wanted me. The moment, in there—it was so wonderful.”

He closed his eyes, speaking between clenched teeth. “That’s just it. It was perfect. You’re so good, so beautiful. And…” He opened his eyes then, a resigned, lost expression darkening them. “And I’m not, Ivy. I didn’t kill your parents, but I’m no saint, either.” He lifted his hand and pointed to his cheek. “That scar is only the beginning.”

Her heart cracked open and bled. “If you think a scar makes a difference, makes you less handsome, then you don’t see the man I see, Matt.”

“It’s worse, Ivy. There are things you don’t know….”

She cradled his hand in hers, felt it trembling, then rested it against her cheek. “I want to know. I’ll listen, Matt. I’ll understand whatever is it….”

“No,” he growled. “You deserve something better. Someone not tainted by jail.”

“But I want
you,
Matt, don’t you get it?” She poured her feelings into her voice. “The good, the bad, the ugly.”

“You can’t mean that, Ivy.” His voice rippled with harshness. “You wouldn’t, not if you knew…”

“You asked me if I trusted you, Matt.” She squeezed his hand, lowered it to her heart. “Now I want you to trust me.”

He stared at her for a heartbeat of silence. Emotions warred in his eyes. He was wavering. But in the end, he lost the battle. Or she lost it, because a shutter closed over his face.

“Please just go to bed, Ivy.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she did as he said. But just before she shut the door, she whispered, “I’ll be waiting, Matt, whenever you’re ready.”

WHENEVER YOU’RE READY.

Hell, he’d never be ready to talk about prison. Or reveal to her how terrified he was of loving her and losing her.

He had grown accustomed to pain. To darkness. But he had no idea how to deal with this sudden sweet tenderness in his life. With Ivy. Any second, he might snap and do something to break the trust she’d given him so freely. Any second he’d disappoint her, just as he had his mother.

And himself.

He’d sworn not to break in prison, not to… No, he would
not
think about jail. The violence. The beating. The…

His body shook with the effort it took to banish the memories. With the determination not to beg Ivy for a second chance. To accept her sweetness, crawl between her tender thighs and let her loving wash away the devil from his soul.

A wolf howled somewhere in the distance, and he stood on the porch for what seemed like forever, listening to its heart-wrenching loneliness. Ivy’s words echoed in his head as the rain beat a staccato rhythm on the weathered wood, and the trees trembled violently from the storm. Overriding his willpower, black memories, heavy and thick, clouded his mind just as the gray clouds above had obliterated the sun the past few days. This fall storm would end one day, hopefully.

But the one in his head would rage on forever. There was no end to it, no rainbow around the corner, no sun waiting to burst through the darkness.

Only for just a moment, when he’d held Ivy in his arms, he’d felt the cloud lifting….

But it wasn’t fair to expect her to repair his damaged soul or accept someone who would never be whole. For God’s sake, he’d broken into a sweat, choking on his own memories when he was on the verge of making love to her. What woman would want a scarred man like that?

I want you, the good, the bad, the ugly.

But Ivy had no idea how deep the ugly ran.

Matt gripped the rail with an iron fist. He needed to go back in. They’d have the dinner he picked up. That’s all they could share. His bones vibrated with fury and anguish as he turned his face up to the wind and rain. Just thinking about someone threatening her made his deep-seated anger surface. Her father. This anonymous man who’d phoned her. The other psychos he knew who lived among them.

Matt had to focus. Make sure she was safe. And find out who killed her parents.

Then he’d get out of her life, so she could go back to hers, where she belonged. Where she would forever be safe from men like him…

IVY SNUGGLED UNDER the covers with her favorite Santa, closed her eyes and made a wish—please make the storm stop. It sounded like monsters outside were beating on the windows and roof. They were trying to tear the house down. Trying to break in. Trying to get her.

The howl of the wind grew louder. Tree branches scraped against the glass panes, and twigs and limbs slapped the side of the house. Rain pinged on the roof, pounding so loudly she thought her eardrums might burst.

Her mother’s laughter drifted through the haze. Soft. Tinkling. A beautiful sound that reminded Ivy she was safe. Music floated through the paper-thin walls, a guitar strumming softly. She wanted to crawl in bed with her mother.

She started to climb from bed, but a man’s voice echoed from the other room, and she froze.

Daddy didn’t like for her to get in bed with them. He always made her go back to her room. Laughed and said she was acting like a baby.

Ivy frowned and clenched the covers. Was her father home?

Earlier, he’d gone to the bars, carousing. Mama said he wouldn’t be back until morning.

Ivy knew what that meant. Her father would get drunk. And hopefully he’d sleep it off before coming home. If he didn’t, he’d probably lost at poker, and he’d be in a bad mood. His temper was like a volcano, explosive and hot. And he took it out on her mother.

Another clap of thunder shook the house. Ivy jumped off the bed, racing toward the door. The monsters were coming closer. They would snatch her this time.

Lightning streaked the room, and she clutched the Santa in one arm, then listened at the door. The man’s voice drifted through the house. Deep. Husky.

No. Not her father’s. Another man’s voice.

But who was visiting her mama?

Curious, Ivy opened the door slightly, then tiptoed silently across the wooden floor, wincing when the boards squeaked. Better not let Mama know she was up. But she had to know the man’s name.

One step more. Two. Three. She reached her mother’s bedroom door.

Ivy held her breath and peeked through the crack. Her stomach flip-flopped. A tall man wearing nothing but his underwear stood beside the bed, and her mother…no, Ivy couldn’t look.

But she had to. Had to see who was in there. Make sure it wasn’t Daddy drunk again, going to hit her.

No, it wasn’t Daddy. This man was bigger. His hair was lighter.

Why was the man half-naked? And why was he in her mama’s bedroom?

The man suddenly crawled on top of the bed and pinned her mother down on the mattress like a wrestler. Her mother groaned and struggled to get away, and he started bouncing on top of her. No! He was going to hurt her! Ivy had to stop him!

She cried out and pushed at the door. She had to save her mama.

The man turned and gave her an icy look. Her mother yelled for the man to get off of her.

Ivy tried to make her legs move, but they were glued to the floor. Suddenly the man jumped off the bed and ran toward her….

IVY JERKED AWAKE, PANTING as she dug her hands into the covers, trembling all over. The dream…it had been real. A memory.

The door suddenly burst open, and Ivy screamed, expecting to see the man in her dream, the one who chased her. But Matt stalked toward her.

“What’s wrong, Ivy?”

She searched his face, trying to remember that other man, but a black curtain shrouded his face, just as her memory had been blank for so long.

The mattress dipped as Matt sat down on the bed beside her. “What’s wrong? I heard you cry out.”

He stroked her arms, but his gaze scanned the room as if searching for an intruder. “Did that man call again?”

“No.” She chewed on her lip, her heart racing. “I…had a nightmare. I think it was about the night my mother died.”

Matt gripped her arms and forced her to face him. “Did you remember something?”

Confusion and anguish rippled through her. “There was a man at my house. A man in the bedroom with my mother.”

A muscle ticked in Matt’s jaw. “It wasn’t your father?”

She shook her head. “No, Matt. My mother…I think the man was either raping her or…or he was her lover.”

MATT RESISTED ADMITTING THAT the man might have been a customer. Better Ivy believe her mother had a lover, someone who really cared about her. But the blackmail scheme seemed equally plausible.

“Matt, maybe I saw my mother being attacked.”

Matt’s pulse clamored at the sound of fear and pain in Ivy’s voice. “It’s possible. It’s also possible your mother had a boyfriend in town.” He lowered his voice, stroking her arm, hoping to soften the blow. “After all, no one could have blamed her for wanting to escape your father.”

Ivy nodded, hugging her knees to her chest and folding her arms over them. “I wish I could remember the man’s face.”

“How about his height? Or the color of his hair?”

Her gaze flew to his, eyes wide. “He was taller and bigger than my father. And his hair…I think it was lighter, but I don’t remember the exact color.”

“What about his age?”

She shook her head, her hair falling in a tangled curtain around her troubled face. “I don’t know. I was so young…. Every man looks old and big to you when you’re eight.”

He smiled, remembering the way she’d cowered from him. “So I looked old to you?”

Ivy’s mouth tilted slightly into a half smile. “Not that old. But…I’d heard things about you.”

“I’m sure they weren’t good.”

“You did have a reputation as a bad boy, but all the teenage girls swooned over you.”

He grunted. They certainly didn’t anymore. They ran from his scarred face. Only Ivy hadn’t backed away.

Her declaration echoed in his head, tugging at him, making him pull her closer.
I want you, Matt. The good, the bad, the ugly.

No, he couldn’t allow himself to believe that declaration. There were things she didn’t know about him. And if she found out about Red Row…

She angled her head to look at him. Questions and need shimmered in her eyes. “It’s late, Matt. You haven’t slept at all.”

Shadows streaked the room, but he embraced them, allowing them to hide his true emotions. “I…wanted to watch the cabin.”

“You have to rest, too.” She pulled at his arm, drew him down on the bed beside her. “Please, stay with me. I don’t know if I can fall asleep again, I’m afraid I’ll have another nightmare.”

He stretched his arm beneath her and pulled her up against his chest, savoring the fresh scent of her shampooed hair and the scent that belonged to Ivy.

“I can’t keep fighting my memories,” she whispered. “I should go back to sleep and finish the dream. Maybe then I’d see the man’s face.”