Page 19 of Ivy's Venom

"No." She shakes her head emphatically. "I won't help you bring her down."

"Amelia, I'm not bringing anyone down." I lie through my fucking teeth. "I need to know what happened."

She stares into my face a while longer and finally nods, "fine, I'll ask Cam."

"You like this kid?" I curl my fingers into fists. The thought of my little sister once again in the clutches of that family makes me angry.

"No." She laughs and pats me on the back. "It's not like that."

"Better not be." I growl and look around.

People are gathered into small groups and the tone has become hushed. It's not everyday you see a Greene weak in this town.

I follow Amelia towards the first boat and pass a group of girls I vaguely remember from the days Charlotte and I would come here.

"The bitch has issues."

"Veronica, she looked legit sick." Another replies.

"That whole family is fucked up," Veronica snarls. "They have mountains of secrets and my nana says only money is keeping them hidden."

Well then.

My room is pitch black save for the illumination of my phone's screen. I'm under two thick blankets and I still can't chase the cold that feels bone deep.

By the time Carmelo got me home, I had finally come around and declined his offer to bring me inside. I could just imagine the fuss my dad would make. Thankfully, they were all asleep and the house was quiet when I came in.

I’m staring at these messages, trying to decipher what they mean, and praying he’s just drunk and confused. On the nights he opens the bourbon, he tends to become paranoid, and a bit abrasive. What is a Black Slaughter? And what’s her list?

I hear the creak of my bedroom door and look to see Dahlia’s little head poke in.

“Ivy?” Her little whisper floats into the room.

“Yeah, Flower?”

“Can I sleep with you?” Her little lip quivers as she hurries further into the room. “I had a nightmare.”

“Sure, baby.” I pull back my covers and watch as she launches her little body up onto the bed.

“I was afraid you left again.” She curls into my side and I nestle my face into her little brown curls.

“That was your nightmare?” I ask her as my eyes begin to burn with tears.

“That and Mommy was sad again.”

“Again?” I ask.

“When you left, Mommy cried every night.” Her little voice is soft. “Even Daddy couldn’t make her stop.”

“She cried?”

“Yes.” She nods, her curls brushing my face. “Don’t leave and make her sad again.”

“Okay, Flower.” I pull her in close. “I promise.”

“Ivy.” Dahlia’s voice filters through my sleep. “Ivy!”

“Flower, is the house burning down?”

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