Blake: A Bad Boy Romance (19 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Blake Lambert vs. The Linden Family

That was the headline
BreakerSpin
went with. It was one long piece detailing everything that had happened to Ivy. The reporter heard all the dangerous voicemails Darryl had left for Ivy. He saw the deranged stuffed animals and pictures of the strange notes. He saw the restraining order that Darryl had violated twice.

It was good. Really good. It made Ivy look innocent, Blake a hero, and Darryl a dangerous lunatic. The best thing it did was call out the Linden family – the rich parents who ignored their troubled son and paid his problems away. The parents refused to make any sort of comment to the press about their son. But there was only so long they could get away with that. 

There were lengthy sections with pictures of the elephant covered in black paint and the deranged words written on Blake’s door. There were quotes from psychologists about the mentality of stalking and from the police about how impossible it was to charge someone with the crime of stalking. There was a short paragraph that detailed Blake’s relationship with Ivy, but it downplayed the stepsibling aspect. Instead it showed them as what they were: two unrelated adults who wanted to be with each other. And the sex tape was treated as a gross invasion of privacy and not something they needed to be embarrassed about.

“This is good,” Tim said. “This is all very good. The public is with you, Blake. I have messages from sponsors and fight organizers. They’re looking to work something out.”

“Work what out?” Ivy asked.

“Some sort of penance. Charity would be a good step. We could start a charity in your name to help other people who are being stalked and harassed,” Tim offered.

“Or we could donate to a charity that exists already,” Ivy said crossing her arms.

Blake saw the flash of anger there and he was desperate to keep Ivy calm. “We’ll find something, Ivy,” Blake assured her, reaching out to her arm. “We can make sure it’s legit.”

“Sometimes people, especially athletes, set up ‘charities’ and then hire their family to work in it. They don’t do any actual charity work. It’s just a tax dodge because they call it a nonprofit. I don’t want to be part of anything like that, Blake.”

“No way,” Blake said. “I would never do that.” He knew plenty of people who did, but not Blake. Something about that just seemed so wrong. He couldn’t bring himself to even consider it.

Blake was happy and when Tim advised him to not Google himself and to never ever read the comments on anything, Blake listened. Ivy was another story. The night of his court date he awoke at two in the morning to see Ivy wasn’t with him. Under the crack in his door he could see a faint blue light, the glow of a computer screen from the other room. “Are you kidding me?” Blake demanded as he stepped out into the living room. Wearing nothing but his boxers he tried to smooth down his hair as he walked to Ivy.

She was lying on the couch in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of white cotton panties with the laptop resting on a pillow on her stomach. “I can’t help it,” she said in despair. “I couldn't sleep, so I got up to look at pretty wrapping paper on Pinterest, something that always calms me down, but then I couldn't help myself and I just thought I would do a quick search and now I can’t stop.”

Blake sat down next to her and took the laptop. He shut it and put it on a side table and then pulled Ivy’s feet up on his lap. “Why would you do that?”

“How can you not?” Ivy demanded throwing her arm over her eyes. “The curiosity was driving me mad. Did you know there’s an entire online forum devoted to discussing whether I’m curvy or not and if that’s a bad thing or not? It’s awful.”

“You’re beautiful,” Blake said, stroking her bare leg with his hand. He reached up farther and lightly stroked her thigh. He felt goose bumps appear on her flesh and he couldn’t help but smile.

“The first thing that comes up when you search my name is Ivy McCormick sex tape. There are over millions of links. Millions!”

“People will forget. Just don’t talk to the media. Don’t feed the beast. With no new information it’ll starve. People will forget about you and it will just be a little bump in the road.”

“A bump in the road?” Ivy demanded in disbelief. “I’m infamous. People hate me and think I’m a slut and I didn’t even do anything.”

Blake lifted Ivy’s leg and kissed her knee and he felt the shudder that ran through her. She giggled and reached up for him. He twisted and leaned down and she slipped her hand into his hair and then down to his neck. She stroked the soft skin of the back of his neck and said, “I don’t know how you take everything in stride like this.”

“I focus on other things,” Blake said.

He took Ivy’s arm in his hand and pulled it to his mouth. He laid a kiss on the inside of her wrist and Ivy sighed and bit her lip as she looked up at him. She was moving her legs, sliding them up and down the couch, something she did when she was turned on. He was glad it was a habit she hadn’t broken. He kissed the inside of her elbow letting his tongue slide between his lips and caress the sensitive skin.

Ivy’s other hand came up and she pulled him to her. He hovered over her and kissed her lips softly. She looked up at him and he could see the want in her dark eyes and he leaned down and kissed her deeply. He sucked on her lower lip and felt her squirm beneath him as he slipped his tongue over hers.

She was moaning quietly and wrapping her arms around his neck. Blake settled himself between her thighs and Ivy brought her legs up and around him holding him fast to her. Blake’s erection was pushing into the couch and occasionally grazing against Ivy and every accidental touch made him want her more.

He sat back and pulled her up with him. He pulled off her shirt and then leaned down and took one of her breasts in his mouth. Ivy arched her back and moaned, burying her hands in Blake’s hair. He slipped a hand down her stomach and underneath the hem of her pink panties. His fingers slipped down and traced the lines of her folds and Ivy gasped and bit his lower lip.

He slipped his fingers into her and she moaned into his shoulder as he began to kiss his way across her body. Licking her clavicle and then biting and sucking at her neck as her hands gripped his arms and her hips moved his against his fingers.

“Blake, yes,” she whispered into his ear, but it was said as she gasped for breath and clung to him.

He wanted her. He wanted all of her all of the time. He slipped his hand free of her and she made a whining noise, but Blake barely heard. He stood and pulled his boxers off and reached for Ivy’s panties, slipping them down her legs and tossing them aside. He reached into a side drawer and pulled out a condom slipping it quickly over himself

Blake took Ivy by the hips and spun her around. He leaned her over the armrest of the couch and she held herself there. Blake took his erection in his hand and easily slid himself into her. She cried out his name when he entered her and moaned as he thrust into her again and again, pulling her hips into him before pulling himself out. He went harder, faster before slowing his strokes, listening to her whimper. When he could tell she was frustrated with the speed, longing for more, he sped up again, going deeper this time.

“Blake, yes. I’m so close,” Ivy whispered as she pushed back against him. Blake grabbed Ivy’s hips and slowed down as he heard her moan beneath him. She pushed back against him and he rested his hand on her back and felt as her body tense and she cried out loudly. Her body convulsed and, with one final thrust, Blake followed Ivy over the edge and they came together.

He rested on her for a moment, savoring this thing they shared. But finally he pulled himself away from her. Throwing the condom out he sat on the couch and pulled a blanket around himself as Ivy joined him. “So did watching our sex tape turn you on?” Blake asked with a smile. He couldn’t help himself.

“Shut up!” Ivy yelled rolling her eyes. “I didn’t watch it. I couldn’t. Did you?”

“Of course I did. I had to know what was on there.”

“Blake! How could you?”

“Ivy, how could you not?” Blake asked and she bit her lip to keep from smiling and looked away. “I needed to see what was on it. But it’s just the sex we had and it actually looks really good.”

“Oh my, God,” Ivy said shaking her head. “I can’t believe you think it’s good.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ivy drove to work, following her old route and old routine. For a moment, she almost felt normal. There were, of course, about a dozen paparazzi waiting outside of Blake’s apartment building, but she didn’t let them sway her. She smiled politely and walked right past them with her head down and her hand partially blocking her face.

Her boss had called for a meeting. But he hadn’t sounded upset or worried when he called. He sounded happy and chipper and he said he really wanted Ivy to come in for an official meeting. She didn’t think she was getting fired; she was pretty sure she was getting her job back. Public opinion was firmly with Blake and Ivy.

This was confirmed when she bought her coffee and saw her own face staring up at her from a tabloid. Her jaw dropped and, before she could stop herself, she was reaching for the glossy mag. She stared at it and the man behind the counter, thinking she wanted it, dutifully scanned it and put it in her bag.

Numbly Ivy thanked him and walked to her car. She sat down in her car in the parking lot and picked up the magazine. She held it delicately as if it were her own life she was holding onto.

“Sex Tape Drama! Blake wants to go pro, but Ivy’s not interested. Will the two be able to keep it together?” She wasn't the main story. The main story was about one of the Teen Moms, but still. She was on the cover.

She opened to page twenty-seven and saw several photos of her and Blake around town. There was one from his court date, his press release, another of the two of them stopping quickly at the grocery store and several of them entering and exiting Blake’s apartment. There were “sources” from close friends who said Blake and Ivy had received an offer from Adam & Eve to do a tasteful couples porn and Blake wanted to, but Ivy was refusing until she saw a ring!

Ivy’s eyes grew as she stared at the words on the page. How did they come up with this? Where did these ideas come from? Who were these “close sources”? Blake and Ivy had received offers, but they weren’t even bothering to respond. It was a joke, and an embarrassing one at that. But still Ivy couldn’t help but be a little thrilled to be on the inside of one of these. She had been addicted to celebrity gossip when she was in high school and she had finally weaned herself off of these things. Now she was in one and late for a meeting with her boss.

Ivy parked her car in the lot and took one look at herself in the mirror to make sure she looked okay. She popped a mint and stepped out of her car and into the familiar parking lot of her firm. She had taken three steps when a car alarm in the lot went off. Ivy glanced behind her, but didn’t see anything and continued on. And then another went off and another. Ivy turned around slowly and stared at the lot of blinking, honking cars. Her eyes scanned the lot for anyone. Was it Darryl?

She couldn’t believe he would still be in the city. It was impossible. He had to have ran. She was sure his parents had paid a private jet to get him out of the country. Now he would spend the rest of his life in some foreign place making some other girl’s life miserable. That had been her theory. But now about twenty car alarms were all going off at once right as Ivy had started walking.

She stared at the lot for a moment hoping Darryl was there. She hoped he had followed her because now she was ready for a fight. People believed her. They wanted to help her and she was ready to stand up for herself. But no one appeared. One by one the lights and horns stopped and finally Ivy turned and walked into the building.

Ivy sat across from Mr. Robinson. But they weren’t in the coffee shop. They were in his office.

“Ivy, I’m so glad you’re here,” Mr. Robinson said smiling at her. “I wanted to personally apologize for my actions the other day. I didn’t fully understand the levels of this man's animosity to you. I want you to come back to work. Full time. It was a mistake sending you home.”

Ivy smiled at him and nodded, but she didn’t say anything. It had been on the front page of
Jezebel
that Ivy’s job had basically fired her for being stalked. The story had been picked up by the
Times
; it was officially a big deal. Her boss was doing good PR and it just happened to be swinging in Ivy’s favor.

“Thank you, Mr. Robison. It means a lot to hear that from you.”

“And, please, if you want to take some time off to deal with this, please know you can take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” Ivy said. “But I’m ready to get back to work. I can come back on Monday if that works for you.”

“It does,” Mr. Robinson stood and shook her hand.

Ivy walked out of his office with her head held high. She still couldn’t quite believe it. There was a manhunt for Darryl. He was officially wanted and when he was found there would be no slap on the wrist; he was looking at serious jail time. If he were found.

It was entirely possible his family had slipped him out of the country. They were very rich and had a lot of contacts in South America. Still, Ivy had been relaxed these last few days. She would have never thought that Darryl would stay in the city to mess with her. She figured he was long gone and out of her life. She was thrilled. That would be enough, to know Darryl was far away. An arrest warrant was like a country-wide restraining order.

After work she drove back to her old apartment. She had clothes and other things she needed there. Warm sweaters for the coming cold and her sturdiest pair of snow boots. She didn’t want to be trapped at Blake’s without them. She parked in her old spot and she was pleasantly surprised there was no paparazzi waiting for her. She took the elevator to her floor.

She stepped out into her hallway with its red and yellow carpet and walked towards her door. There was still a hole in the wall from where Darryl had nailed the stuffed elephant into it. She ran her fingers over the shards of wood and shook her head. There was something really wrong with him. He was dangerous and a part of her would always regret that she would never see him behind bars.

Ivy unlocked her many locks and stepped inside. The apartment seemed the same. But it already felt a little strange. Like it was a place Ivy had left behind a long time ago and she was just coming back years later for a visit. She dropped her bag on the couch and quickly rifled through her mail, separating the junk and putting the stuff she would need later in her purse.

She slipped out of her shoes and padded over to her bedroom. She opened the door and then stared around her in confusion. It was wrong. It was very wrong. She took a step back and blinked, putting her hand to her chest as she tried to figure out what she was seeing.

Red. Her room was covered in red paint. Buckets of it had been poured and thrown everywhere. The empty buckets were piled in one corner on top of her shoes. There were large splashes on her wall, her floor covered in it and there were even drips on the ceiling. It was a deep cherry red color, the color of blood. Ivy reached forward and felt the paint; it was hard and her hand came away clean. It was dried. It had been here for a while.

She stumbled back out of the room and slammed the door closed behind her. She looked around her apartment, but saw no one. She raced to her phone and quickly dialed 911 and explained what happened. She opened her door and searched the hallway and still there was no one. Something about the unearthly quiet of the building unnerved her. She didn’t want to be here; she didn’t want to be alone. She needed to hear voices and see people.  Ivy slammed the door closed behind her and raced for the elevator. She frantically pushed the button as she looked over her shoulder. There was no one. But, still, her heart pounded in her chest and she was jittery and the elevator finally came.

Ivy rode it to the first floor where the door opened to reveal and bright and airy lobby. There was a large centerpiece bursting with orange flowers on a marble table and people were scattered about here and there. Ivy looked around at all of the people living their own pleasant lives and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath and tried to calm her hard beating heart. She dialed Blake’s number and listened as it rang. Part of her couldn't believe this was still happening. Again there was Blake and the police and frantic telephone calls. She had tasted happiness and it had been wonderful. She wanted to taste it again. She wanted to be happy and not be afraid all the time. She wanted her life to be normal again. But Darryl wasn’t quite ready to let go yet.