Page 111 of Savage

I should get as far away from Tank as I can before that happens, but the thought of leaving now strikes fear into my heart for a different reason.I think I might actually miss the bastard. I think I might actually want him around, and that pisses me off because God knows he can be an overgrown man-child.

After coffee and some delicious home-baked cookies, we thank Adeline, and she walks us out to the bike. She hands Tank a few small plastic containers filled with biscuits and leftovers that he secures in the saddlebags. Adeline hugs me extra tight when she says goodbye, and I wrap my arms around her, awkwardly at first, breathing in violets and the soft scent of freshly laundered clothes. It’s so odd hugging a woman this way, a woman who isn’t my mother but who has embraced me with the same motherly affection that my own might have. “You come back and see me soon.”

“I will,” I promise. And I’d like to, I really would, but visiting Adeline again would likely only put her in danger.

She leans in and whispers in my ear, “And you throw out those pills stuffed inside your bra before my son finds them, or he’ll make you pay dearly for it.”

My eyes widen, my gaze searching her face as she draws away. Tank studies the two of us and frowns. He kisses Adeline goodbye and climbs onto the bike, revving it several times as I nod to her and then slide on behind him.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

IVY

The entire ride back to the cabin, I think about all the things Adeline said to me. The pills in my bra feel like a brand against my skin. I want to get rid of them, but I can’t. I need them. I want them so bad, but I can’t take them, not now, and not without falling off the bike.

When we pull into Tank’s garage, I slide off the bike, but he grabs my hand and pulls me towards him. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I ask.

“For meeting my mum, and for not stabbing me with your dinner fork, ’cause I know you were thinking about it.”

I laugh. “Oh, I was thinking of stabbing you with more than just my fork. I considered the carving knife and bludgeoning you to death with the roast too.”

His mouth tips up in a smile. “I think I’d like to see that.”

“What, me murdering you with a leg of lamb?”

“You trying to kill me with anything. Postal Ivy gets me hard as fuckin’ stone.” He bends and kisses my hand. There’s a hint of tongue and the gesture is as equally sweet as it is erotic. I pull my hand free from his grasp and ignore the quiet sigh that escapes his mouth. It’s not that it wasn’t nice, it’s just … that isn’t what we do, and to be honest, I don’t even know what that looks like—him and me, together. Me being an old lady. The idea makes me nervous. What if I fuck this up too? What if I really do become his ruin?

We walk into the house, and Tank disables the alarm. I notice he doesn’t set it again, and my heart gives a stupid-arsed girly little flutter because it’s such a tiny, insignificant thing, but to me, it’s a gargantuan gesture of faith. My gaze meets his, but he says nothing and the moment is lost as Butch comes barrelling in from Tank’s bedroom, almost knocking me off my feet and licking at my hands and face.

“Butch, down,” Tank commands, and the dog ignores him in favour of rutting up against my leg. “Stupid fuckin’ mutt.”

I pat his giant skull and sook him up some more, just the way Tank hates. “On your mat!” Tank bellows, and the dog whines and wanders over to the mat by the door.

“You’re so mean.”

“You baby him. He’s already a big enough sook as it is.” He opens the fridge and peers inside. “I’m gonna have to buy one of those fighting pit bulls to show him how a real guard dog behaves.”

“You’re so full of it,” I say, leaning against the bench. “I see right through you, you know. I’m not buying any of it.”

“Eat me,” Tank says, slamming the fridge door closed. I’m guessing he was looking for a beer, and the fact that I’m here means he can’t have one. He stalks over to the lounge and flops down on it, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and turning on a game.

I sigh and head to the bathroom. For a long time I stare at myself in the mirror, thinking about all of the things his mother said to me, and then I remove the tablets I stole from my bra. It would be so easy to just toss them back and let them take me away, but that’s the point, isn’t it? That life is hard, and it’s fucked, and unfair. But it’s the same for everyone. We all experience different things, we’re all faced with different obstacles—it’s the way we confront our fears that matter. It’s the decisions I make from here that matter.

With a final glance, I close my fist around the pills, and walk down the hall into the lounge room. I take a deep breath and then I stand in front of him.

“Unless you plan to remove your pants and let me stare at that beautiful cunt of yours, I suggest you move, darlin’,” Tank says. I hesitate and hold out my hand to him, the three tiny pills—somewhat deteriorated and a little bit sweaty—on display in the centre of my palm. “What the fuck is that?”

I swallow hard. “I stole them … from your mother’s house.”

“Come the fuck again?” He sits up, ramrod straight.

“I thought I needed them … to forget.”

“Jesus Christ, Ivy,” Tank mutters. He looks away, shakes his head in disbelief. “And why the fuck are you showing me now?”

“Because I’m done.”

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