Blake: A Bad Boy Romance (10 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Ivy unlocked the many locks on her door as Blake stood over her shoulder. She felt a little self-conscious about the locks, but there was no such thing as being too careful with Darryl. Finally, she pushed open the door to her apartment and then entered the code to her alarm.

“You can never be too cautious,” she said over her shoulder as she turned off the alarm.

“I’m not complaining,” Blake said shaking his shoulder.

Ivy’s apartment was different than his. It was in an old building and it retained its old fashioned feel. The wooden floors creaked a little as they walked and the molding and doors were ornately carved. She loved it, though. She liked its old fashioned feel. It had a sense of history and character; she would be sad to leave it.

Ivy had left all the lights on the other night when she had raced out of there. The apartment was brilliantly lit and she quickly walked around the apartment and turned most of them off. “What do you think?” she asked Blake, who was standing in the small living room with his hands in his pockets.

“It’s like a dollhouse,” he said with a smirk. “It’s very you.”

“Hey, I loved my dollhouse growing up,” Ivy said. It had been a large, pink Victorian house. Her father had made it himself. He intended to leave it in the window of his hardware store as something to draw customers in. But Ivy fell in love with it. She would stay up late at night watching her father carve the the doors and window frames. Finally, when it was finished, Jonas gave it to her instead of taking it to the store.

“I remember,” Blake said.

Ivy walked into her bedroom and pulled her large suitcase out from underneath her bed. Blake walked in and joined her. He looked at the paintings she had on her wall, all things she had picked up at art shows around town. She had a large bed with a white frame and a pristine white sheets. There was a large purple dresser with jewelry and makeup scattered across the top.

Ivy walked over to her dresser and began to pull clean underwear out of the top drawer. Blake smiled as she worked and when she walked back to her suitcase he turned to the drawer and began to rifle through it.

“What are
these
?” he asked, pulling out a lacy black thong.

“Get out of there,” Ivy said, grabbing her panties out of his hand and throwing them back in the drawer.

“I don’t know why women spend money on lingerie,” Blake said. “Don’t get me wrong, we appreciate it, but all we really want is for you to be naked.”

“Maybe we don’t buy it for you,” Ivy said raising her eyebrow at Blake. She walked back the dresser and grabbed a couple of bras and some socks.

“So sometimes you wear sexy underwear just for the hell of it?” Blake asked.

“Yup,” she said, smirking at him. She was piling her clothes into the suitcase and Blake walked behind her and wrapped his arms her.

He pulled her close and leaned down and softly kissed her. She sighed and leaned into him as he kissed up her neck and then gently bit her earlobe. “You walking around in that lacy thong is a very sexy image,” he whispered. Ivy pressed herself back against him. He kissed the other side of her neck and reached down for her breast and she sighed even louder as his hands went to their delicate work.

“So, I should pack the thong?” she whispered as she reached around and ran her hands through his hair.

“Yes,” he answered. He dropped it into the bag and Ivy pulled herself away from him and went to her closet to pull out work clothes and some clothes that were not for work and folded them into her suitcase.

Blake flopped down on the bed and Ivy went to the bathroom to grab her shampoo and conditioner and the million other cosmetics she secretly liked to collect.

She couldn’t stop smiling as she packed. She loved when Blake held her like that; she loved when she could feel how excited he was. She loved how he always was for her. Anytime she wanted Blake she knew she could have him and that was such a sexy thought. She had a few boyfriends, but none as passionate as Blake.

She was walking back to the bedroom, her arms filled with toiletries when the doorbell rang. Ivy froze in place, but Blake was on his feet and next to her in a second.

“Go in the bedroom,” Blake said, putting his hand on her shoulder and pushing her gently towards the door.

“Blake, no.” Ivy said. “It’s probably nothing. I’ll get it.”

“What if it’s Darryl?” he asked.

“Then I’ll handle it,” she said, she emptied her arms on the bed and turned to walk towards the door, but Blake was blocking the way. “Blake, you can’t fight Darryl. I’m telling you not to. If you do, they will punish you to the full extent of the law. You could get a felony charge. I could never forgive myself if anything like that happened to you. You have to promise me you won’t lay a hand on Darryl.”

“No,” Blake answered. “If he touches you, I’m going to crush his face.”

“He doesn’t touch me,” Ivy said. “That’s his whole game plan. He doesn’t do anything that could actually land him charges. But if you attack him, he will have you arrested and tried. Promise me you’ll leave him alone.”

“I’ll keep my hands to myself,” Blake said with a nod. “But I’m not going to promise anything else. I’m going to do whatever it takes to protect you.”

“Fine,” Ivy said, shaking her head as she pushed past him, but it felt good to know she had Blake in her corner. He was strong and tough and might be formidable enough to deal with Darryl. She walked to the front door and looked through the peephole, but the hallway looked empty. “There’s no one there.”

Blake looked, too, and then he stood in front of Ivy and opened the door. He took a step into the hallway and then he shook his head.

Ivy stepped out with him and saw there was no one. “Maybe it was just a kid playing,” Ivy offered, but Blake didn’t look convinced. She turned to go back inside when she saw it and froze in her tracks. It was a stuffed animal. It had been white elephant at one point in time, but now it was covered in some thick black goop. The eyes had been ripped out and replaced with cheap, plastic Halloween spiders. It looked stretched out, like someone had been pulling at its limbs and it lay limp against the door. There was a nail right to the center of the chest holding it up.

“Go inside,” Blake said. He took out his phone and began to take pictures of the elephant.

Shaking, Ivy walked back into her apartment and tried to quell her nausea. Just a few moments ago she had felt so safe and happy and now she wanted to curl up into a little ball and cry. But she couldn’t do that; she needed to stay strong. Feeling suddenly jumpy and nervous Ivy looked at all the nooks and crannies in her apartment, wondering if any of them were large enough for someone to hide in. She didn’t feel safe in her own home anymore.

Blake managed to pry the elephant off the door and threw it in the trash before washing his hands. “It’s just paint,” he assured her as the water began to run black.

Ivy nodded but she wasn’t sure if that was supposed to make her feel better. Was it because it wasn’t blood? Was she so desperate that she was happy about paint? “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” Ivy said.

“You don’t have to apologize for him,” Blake said as he dried his hands.

She walked over to the door and quickly did all the locks. She hated this; she hated the power the Darryl still had over her. People had been quick to assume she had done something to provoke him. She hadn’t done anything. She had simply ended things with him; she had done it politely over dinner. But now she wished she had done something. Maybe if she deserved the strange gifts and the phone calls, it would somehow make it better. If only she had cheated on him, or said hateful and mean things to him, then there would at least be a reason for this.

She walked back to the bedroom and began to pack quickly. She dumped jeans and shirts into her bag as she hastily wiped a tear from her eye. She hated this. She felt so weak and powerless. It was maddening that he could do this to her and not suffer any repercussions.

“Stop, stop,” Blake said. He came over to her and pulled the pile of clothes out of her arms. “Relax,” he said as a tear slipped from her eye. “I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you. Take your time. We’ll leave when you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” Ivy said, barely managing to get the word out. She began to refold her clothes, calming herself down as she went. She had gotten so used to being on her own. She liked having her own space and answering to no one. When Darryl had become scary, she had been determined to handle it herself. But that hadn’t worked. Darryl was too good. He was scary and intimidating and impossible to stop or catch. There was no way she could take him on her own.

But she could never forgive herself if anything happened to Blake. Darryl fed off of people’s reactions and Blake had never been good at controlling his temper. Darryl would peck at him like a crow until Blake lost it and retaliated against him. Then Darryl would run to the cops and Blake would end up behind bars. Darryl would be free to harass her, and the one person who could protect her would be locked up far away. She needed to do everything she could to keep that from happening. She just wasn’t sure how.

Chapter Eighteen

Ivy had to wake up early for work. Her alarm went off at six-thirty. She hit snooze and Blake turned over on his side to wrap his arms around her. She snuggled back into him and he kissed the back of her neck. It was still dark outside and he fell back asleep almost instantly. Her alarm went off again and this time she roused herself from bed. Blake felt her lean over and press her lips against his cheek.

“I’m gonna shower and get ready for work,” Blake nodded. He filtered in and out of sleep as Ivy moved quietly around him. Finally, he sat up and looked at her.

She was just wearing a robe and she slipped it off her shoulders and fell to the floor.

“I’m glad I woke up,” Blake said, rubbing his eyes.

Ivy smiled at him and slipped into a pair of black panties. Her eyes on Blake, she bent over and began to pull her stockings up her legs and over her knees.

“Don’t start the engine if you're not going to drive the car,” Blake said. His morning wood was only growing as he gazed at her.

“I have
no
idea what you’re talking about,” Ivy teased as she stood up and put on a bra. “I’m just getting dressed.”

“Yeah, but now I want you to be undressed,” Blake said with a yawn.

“Sorry, I have to go to work,” Ivy said. She was fully dressed and made up and she walked towards Blake who grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

“See you tonight?” Blake asked.

“Yes,” Ivy answered with a crooked smile as she grabbed her phone and headed out the door.

He had almost forgotten about the stuffed elephant left the other day. He wanted to remind Ivy to be careful, but then he remembered she didn’t need to be reminded. She knew how to be safe. 

He followed with his own morning routine and was happy to see that, so far, things with Ivy were fine. In fact, coffee was already brewed so, right now, having her living with him was better than him living alone.

He drove to his gym and parked his car in the lot. His gym in Seattle was nothing like Paulie’s gym. He trained at Boxing World. It was a large, modern gym with a juice bar, weight room, indoor track, pool, and a staff masseuse and physical therapist. Paulie’s was a boxing gym, but after high school Blake had expanded his repertoire beyond boxing. He had started training for MMA fights at this gym in the city. This gym had more of what Blake needed, but he would always be loyal to Paulie.

He swung open the door and swiped his ID card, letting himself in. He walked through the bright and pristine weight lifting room and through and past a large group of cardio machines. He jogged up a set of stairs and opened the door to the fighting training center. His other coach, Jamal, was waiting for him at the ring.

“There you are, welcome back to town, Blake,” Jamal said. “You train with Paulie when you were back home? How is that ancient son of a bitch?”

“He’s good. Just don’t let him hear you calling him old. He sucker punched me for it.”

“So, we gonna talk about that last fight?” Jamal asked. His arms were crossed and he did not look happy.

“I won, didn’t I?” Blake said. He was getting tired of everyone’s comments on the last fight. No one knew what it was like to be in the cage. Blake was the one who had to actually do the fight. He was the one with all the pressure. Things couldn’t always be perfect.

“You almost
didn’t
win,” Jamal said.

“Something was on my mind, but it’s sorted out now,” Blake said, shrugging his shoulders. His knuckles were taped and he stretched quickly to warm up. He hopped onto the treadmill and Jamal sped it up to six miles an hour. Blake quickly began to jog, feeling his heart begin to pump harder.

“So we need to work on your mental game?” Jamal asked, speeding the treadmill up.

“My mental game is fine. I’m fine,” Blake said. But he wasn’t sure. It was a random woman’s shout that had set him off at the last match. He still didn’t know why it affected him so strongly. He was used to fans yelling at him and people who weren’t his fans screaming horrible words at him. It didn’t bother him, but pumped him up. He liked to hear his fans scream and to hear when his opponent’s fans realized they were about to lose. He lived for it.

“So what happened?” Jamal asked.

Blake stopped the treadmill and turned to Jamal and said. “This woman shouted out,
I love you, Blake
and it threw me for some reason,” Blake said quietly. “I’ve heard a lot of yelling and screaming, but never that before.”

“So why did it throw you off?” Jamal asked.

“Because it reminded me of the last girl who said that,” Blake said, turning the treadmill back on and beginning to run. “That had never happened before. But I’m ready for it if it happened again.”

“Let’s find out,” Jamal said.

He trained for hours. Cardio followed by weights and then sparring sessions. He focused on his kicks and staying on his feet and on staying focused. It was easier now. Anytime he needed to think about Ivy he knew he would see her back at home in just a few hours. He didn’t need to worry about her.

He felt back in the zone. Anytime he felt himself lagging he thought about that stuffed elephant nailed to the door, black paint dripping down onto Ivy’s floor and he would redouble his efforts. He would get all of his anger for Darryl out here. And he would be ready if Darryl ever tried to start something with him.

This was another big fight coming up. All of his fights were big now. Everyone he went up against was the best. There would be no more easy wins or assured victories. He was at the steepest point of his climb. He was within grasping distance of first place, but getting there would take everything he had.

***

Blake draped a cool towel over his neck. He and Jamal were sitting in the sauna, letting the warm air relax and sooth his tight muscles. He had worked hard all day and he knew he would sleep well that night.

“So, the last girl who told you she loved you, where is she now.”

“At work,” Blake answered. “But in two hours she’ll be back at my place.” He couldn’t stop the smirk that came across his face. Ivy would be back at his place, relaxing on the couch, a vision of perfection.

“Nice,” Jamal said with a nod.

“Yeah, we weren’t together in the last fight,” Blake admitted. “It was getting to me. But things are good now.”

“Careful now,” Jamal said. “Don’t let that girl take root in your head. Your success is on you alone. It’s not tied to anything or any relationship, including her.”

“I know,” Blake said. “It’s not like that with her. She’s good for me. There’s just one thing: she’s got a crazy ex.”

“They always do,” Jamal said with a shake of his head.

“I mean, legit crazy,” Blake said. “He called her thirty-eight times the other night and every voicemail was just some creepy kid laughing or heavy breathing.”

“Whoa, that’s weird.”

“The other day we found a stuffed animal covered in black paint with spiders for eyes nailed to the front door.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know. It’s this spoiled little rich boy. He’s untouchable. He never gets caught and when he does he just buys his way out of it. I need to get rid of him but I don’t know how.”

“You can’t do anything like that. You get arrested and your career is over. They could suspend you,” Jamal warned. “I know it’s hard, but you just have to bring all the rage you have for this guy and channel it into the ring. Take it out on your opponent. Remember the best revenge is a life well lived. The best thing you and your girl can do is be happy together while you bring in endorsement deals and land magazine covers.”

“It’s easier said than done. It’s hard to sit back and do nothing while some guy terrorizes your girl.”

“Guys like that,” Jamal shook his head as if he couldn’t finish the sentence. “I’ve met a few of them in my time. There’s nothing worse than people who start problems and then cry foul when people bring it back to them. This guy has a pounding coming to him, but it can’t come from you, Blake. It’ll ruin your career. You’ll be no good to your girl broke and out of work. Focus on the fight, focus on winning. That’s how you get back at this creep. By winning.”

Blake nodded. He knew Jamal was right. He needed to focus on himself and his relationship with Ivy. That was what mattered. Darryl was just a distraction and Blake was not going to let this guy get to him.

He got a massage and took a shower and he felt tired but good as he drove home. He pulled into the driveway and rode the elevator up to his floor. He opened to door to a delicious smelling apartment. The lights were on, but low and there was music playing quietly in the background.

“I’m home,” Blake called out.

Ivy, wearing a very short pair of shorts and a strappy tank top, stepped out into the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand. “Welcome home,” she said with a smile, taking a sip of her drink.