Ivy's Venom (Whitsborough Progenies) by C.A. Rene (short novels to read .TXT) 📗

me a small fortune. Tell your father I need a raise.

Hotter than Sin: Today I went with your father to pick up a Ford Thunderbolt. I fell in love for the first time.

I snort at that one because I know the feeling of seeing these cars for the first time.

Hotter than Sin: You’ve broken the rules and now I need to figure out how to break into your house.

A small giggle escapes me and I begin to type him a message.

Me: Hey.

That’s all I got right now, I just feel so tired and mentally I’m drained.

Hotter than Sin: You owe me three messages. That one doesn’t count, Greene.

Me: I smell terrible.

Hotter than Sin: Ew. WTF?

I giggle again.

Me: I have a mountain of homework.

Hotter than Sin: Delinquent.

The smile on my face is beginning to hurt my cheeks, it’s been that long since the muscles were used.

Me: I hate when this happens.

I’m not sure what makes me tell him that but it’s there and I don’t want to take it back.

Hotter than Sin: Until tomorrow, Greene.

He doesn’t try to pry information out of me and it’s refreshing. Besides, I wouldn’t say shit anyways so he probably figured that. I do fucking smell and it’s seeping into my bed blankets. I crinkle my nose and sit up slowly. It’s just a shower, I can do it.

The pain I experienced between my legs from Adam’s assault is now just a dull ache and my body-especially my hair-is screaming to be cleaned. I slowly get out of bed and groan when the weight of my body causes my legs to shake. I shuffle slowly to the washroom and stop in front of the mirror. I look like hell.

I have dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, my eyes themselves have red lines throughout, and my skin looks sallow and green. Why did I let my mind consume me again?

“Ivy?” Mother’s voice calls from my room door.

“Bathroom.”

I hear her padding over my carpet and then she’s standing at the washroom door. She’s giving me a once over and I can only imagine what she’s thinking.

“What triggered it?” She asks. “Was it a bad dream about Charlotte? Saxon says you’ve been having them.” Of course he told her but it’s a better explanation than the truth.

“Yeah.”

“Do we need to go see Dr. Kahale?” She looks worried.

“I’m okay now.” I try to assure her, “I’m going to take a shower and start some homework.”

Her eyes brighten a bit and she runs her knuckles over my cheek. “I left you some soup on the table by your bed.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Neil: I bet you changed my name back, huh?

His message comes through the next day as I’m sitting on my bed pouring over homework.

Neil: Don’t use up your answer on that one. It doesn’t matter.

Neil: What’s your favourite colour?

What the fuck is he doing? I’m once again smiling at the screen of my phone.

Me: Green.

Neil: Makes sense.

I snort and throw my phone back on my bed, my chest is beginning to feel lighter and my head a little clearer. Soon, the idea of leaving my house won’t feel like the end of the world. Anger is slowly replacing my devastation and I want nothing more than to hurt Adam Van Dyke for even thinking he could get away with what he did to me.

“I ordered pizza since Mom, Dad, and Dahlia are gone to New York for the weekend.” Saxon says from the doorway.

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Someone needs to be here in case you decide to try and kill yourself.” Then he’s walking back down the hallway.

Typical Saxon.

Neil: I had a dream last night.

Neil: I dreamt that an angel came to me and gifted me glasses that would give me the power to see a person’s soul.

Neil: I saw my sister’s soul, it was murky and cloudy. I woke up really sad and couldn’t go back to sleep.

Neil: What is your favourite food?

Me: Charlotte’s soul was prismatic, shining in pristine technicolour. Pizza.

He doesn’t answer me back and I leave it alone. I know Neil is struggling to come to terms with his sister’s death and my role in it. One day, we will have to talk about it and I will have to tell him the truth because he deserves it and I need to tell it at least once.

I wonder if he saw my soul in his dream?

Neil: If I tell you I’m outside, would you let me in?

It’s Saturday evening and even though I’m feeling better, I don’t want to be near anyone. At the same time, if it weren’t for Neil I would still be wrapped up in my bed, stinking like a rotting corpse.

Neil: Don’t mind me, I’m not freaking out waiting for your answer.

Shit.

Me: You’re here?

Shit.

Neil: Yeah. Well on your street again, like a stalker.

Shit!

Neil: No pressure. I can leave.

Me: Wait.

The part that wants to see his face wins out over the anxiety of seeing him and I pull on a hoodie, opening the gate with the app on my phone.

Me: Come up.

I’m watching the video surveillance on my phone and the second I see the hood of his car, my heart is in my throat. Just when I thought I must be having a heart attack, he steps out and my heart begins to pound, moving my whole chest.  He looks good, happy, and I’m petrified that I might have to pretend to be those things.

I open my front door and then back up to sit on the stairs as he comes up the porch. He looks at me and gives me a small smile as he steps into the house, closing the door behind him. He doesn’t say anything, just reaches down to remove his boots, and then hangs his jacket on the hook.

“Your dad said something about being in New York this weekend, and he may have asked if I’d be stalking you.”

“Dad asked you to come by?” I’m