Page 135 of Ink Me Three Times
And I do what I always do when I feel cornered.
I run my mouth.
“There’s this shop,” I say, tone flat. “In Portland. Offered me a chair. At the con.”
Timothy turns his head toward me, slow. “Seriously?”
I shrug, try to play it casual. “Could be a clean break. Bigger city. No drama. I was already thinking…”
But the second it leaves my mouth, I know it’s the wrong thing to say.
Ivy’s face drops.
Something behind her eyes shuts down.
“You’re already planning your escape,” she says. Not a question. A fact. “Of course you are.”
“I didn’t mean…”
But she’s already backing toward the door.
Her eyes flick to mine, and I swear, I might as well be looking at a dying star. Beautiful. Burned out. Dangerous. I see something break behind them, and that’s what does me in. Not the anger. Not the tears. The break.
“No,” she says, voice hard now. “You meant it. It’s fine. Thanks for confirming.”
“Ivy, wait.”
But she’s gone before I can get another word out.
“What the fuck, Mitch?” Timothy’s voice is low, but it vibrates with anger. “She comes here terrified, and that’s what you say?”
“What do you want from me?” I snap, too loud. “A fucking Hallmark speech? Congratulations, Ivy, can’t wait to paint the nursery?”
Timothy’s jaw flexes. He looks like he wants to punch me. For a second, I almost wish he would. At least then I’d feel something besides this screaming inside my skull.
But he goes after her, calling her name, but she waves him off, looking pained by his voice.
The bell over the door jangles, and then it’s just me again.
Me, a cold coffee, and three lives I might be tied to.
And I don’t even know who the hell I am anymore.
And for the first time in a long time…
I don’t want to run.
Because the last time I stayed, the last time I gave my heart out for real, it came back shattered. And I promised myself never again. Never again.
But I already started running.
And I don’t know how to undo it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Ivy
I don’t rememberthe walk back to Jesse’s.
