Leave her alone. Now there's some great fucking advice. So, why can't I do it?
I watch her walk away, and I let her. It takes every last ounce of self-control I have not to follow her inside.
With Ivy, I’ve seen every shade of schemes and conspiracies. But maybe that's just all in my head.
Fuck, I’ve got to stop stalking the poor girl and get back to work. I spent the past two days chasing down the phantoms of her past, finding nothing but shadows. If anything, Ivy Palmer is a wholesome human being who deserves a thousand times better than the likes of me. But the thought of not having her kills me.
Frustrated, I head to my office and work through a mountain of waiting intel reports. The number of threats we have against the D’Angelos rival that of royalty or a head of state. With the brothers collected in one place, we have to be ready for anything.
Knock-knock.
Smoke enters without waiting for an acknowledgment. He shuts the door and strolls to my desk. His smile is telling. “The jet. Your noticeable absence. And Ivy being gone at the same time.” His words linger in the air.
I swat them away. “Ivy and I didn't see each other.”
“Then where were you?”
“North Carolina.”
I'm unusually quiet. Noticing my discomfort, Smoke puts me out of my misery and fills in the blanks for me. “You’ve obviously resumed your investigation. What I can't seem to wrap my head around is whether you're suspicious of her or enthralled with her.” He takes a seat. “Are you minutes from nailing her to the cross, or to the wall?”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “I wish I knew.”
He considers me and frowns. “You want to talk it through?”
The offer is tempting, but I shake my head. In some worlds, there’s a presumption of innocence. In this world, no one is innocent. But it’s up to me to determine whether the weight of their guilt warrants their execution.
As far as Ivy Palmer goes, my head is less certain than my heart is, and my heart is an untrustworthy fuck. Fool me once. So, rather than laying out all my cards and being straight with the man I consider a brother, I go with my gut.
“I’ve closed the investigation on Ivy. Her background seems like an open and shut case, but I had to be sure with your brothers coming and with her standing in the midst of the ceremony.”
His fingers steeple to his chin as he studies me. Smoke knows me better than most, but even he can’t read minds. Until I’m ready to tell him something, he's not going to know. That's for his benefit as well as mine.
He takes a long minute before asking, “So, your investigation of Ivy is closed?”
I swear to God the man lives to make me sweat. I stare down the human lie detector and paint on a mask. “For now.”
It’s true. Or, true enough. Her background investigation is over. The investigation of her father is personal. Just something I have to do.
I see the doubt creep up behind the hardened steel in his eyes and remind him of the good Ivy's done. “Trinity's made remarkable progress…”
He nods.
“In the years since her attack, the number of words she spoke each year could be counted on one hand. We owe that miracle to Ivy. How she splintered through Trinity’s darkness, I have no idea. But I won't overlook that, and neither should you.”
“But you’re still looking into her.”
“I have a job to do, Smoke. It doesn't mean she’s a suspect. It means she's been granted access to the circle of trust whether she's earned it or not. That’s why I'm here. Your enforcer.”
Smoke stands. “If something comes up with Ivy, she won’t be your problem, Leo. She’ll be mine.” It's not a question. Smoke has given me a command.
“Understood,” I say definitively.
With both palms pressed against my desk, he leans down until we’re eye to eye. “You can fool everyone else, Leo. Maybe you can even fool yourself. But you can’t make your feelings for Ivy disappear.”
I turn away. “It doesn't matter. This is the life I choose.”
“Do you?” He thumps my chest. “In case you haven’t noticed, that hardened shell of a heart has started beating again. You can’t ignore it.”
“I can try,” I bark back.
Grimacing, he shakes his head. “Don’t you know I’d sell my soul to feel something again? I’m chained to this world. You’re not. Don’t give up on living only to spend the rest of your life protecting ours.”
His words are tiny daggers to my soul because if anyone should know why I’m desperate to sprint from this hamster wheel, it’s him. Smoke heads out the door, and I curse across the room. “Goddammit, Smoke. She deserves better.”
He turns back, sharing a lopsided grin. “So do you.”
So do I? How can he say that to me?
With a buildup of force, I explode. My laptop. My cell. My precious coffee mug. I send them flying across my desk.
I can’t believe he actually said that to me. Me, the enforcer to the D’Angelos. I’m not even mildly exaggerating when I say there’s a two-story condo in the hottest part of hell carved out for people like me. I have more blood on my hands than the county medical examiner, and believe me, the only form of torture that should be off limits is putting early morning children’s shows on repeat.
And Smoke thinks I deserve better?
I scoff to the room. He couldn’t be more wrong if he dropped a bar of soap in a prison shower. News flash: I don’t deserve anything at all. My late wife, Lori, was evidence of that. If anyone deserved more, it was her.
Smoke can keep laying a brick path of good intentions, but where my love life is concerned, I won't make the same mistake twice. Ivy deserves to find happiness with someone a thousand times better than me.
And I deserve to serve out this death sentence of a life without destroying hers.