TAINTED

Chapter 23

RHYS

When I pulled up to the ranch, it was dark. I had purposely avoided the ranch and spent the past few days in town at my father's home. I figured it was for the best, but being in close quarters with him proved to me more challenging than being near Ivy. I climbed out of my Range Rover and tossed my cigarette onto the grass. The harsh crunch of my footsteps on the gravel matched my edgy mood, and courage shot through me with each step. I didn't know what to expect when I stepped inside, but I hoped for something like forgiveness. I strode onto the porch and put my key inside the lock.

"Rhys," Ivy said, startling me. The sound of her tortured voice almost brought me to my knees. What was she doing outside, all alone on the porch at this time of night? She turned to look at me; a small smile touched the corners of my lips. That smile slipped when I noticed her expression, which was not a smile.

She was holding a half-drunken bottle of whiskey. Was she drunk? I didn't like the idea that she's been out here drinking alone. Had she been crying, too?

"We need to talk," I said softly.

"Talk?" she laughed and took a swig from the bottle. The sadness and anxiety flashing in her eyes had me silently cursing myself. I shouldn't have left her alone. I didn't want her to feel this way. Not when I cared about her so damn much, it hurt. "Must be my lucky night. Rhys Wyatt finally wants to talk."

When she stepped under the porch light, I could see her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. She'd been crying.

"Ivy, are you okay?" I took a deep breath and stepped toward her to get a better look at her. "How much have you drank?"

"Enough," she cocked her head to the side and studied me. "Anything you need to tell me about, Rhys?"

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed, and a little voice inside me told me I should be nervous. I racked my brain, but I couldn't think of anything other than that I was sorry for disappearing on her. That wasn't what she was referring to, so what was she talking about?

"Umm, I don't think so."

Looking down, she shook her head, and a small laugh escaped before a wicked smile graced her mouth.

"Are you sure?" she asked sweetly, which made me even more anxious for some reason.

"I just had the craziest night," she frowned slightly, leaning against the brick wall and crossing her arms over her chest. "Blaine sent me a package from France. He was trying to butter me up before he delivered alarming news. When I didn't thank him, he called the delivery company to confirm his parcel arrived at the ranch. The funny thing is, I never received anything, yet the package was marked as delivered and received."

She moved one step toward me, and instinctively, I moved one step back. I knew where this was going, and I wouldn't say I liked it. "You'll never guess who signed for it."

Oh, shit.

"Turns out it was a Mr. Rhys Wyatt."

I tried to respond, but my mind was suddenly blank. I had planned this differently. My silence told her everything she needed to know.

"Why would you sign for it and then not give it to me?" she landed a hard shove on my chest. "Why would you do that?"

My back was against the front door, and I seriously regretted showing up unannounced.

"Why you, son-of-a-bitch? Why would you do that?"

I needed an answer, and I needed one fast. Running my hands through my hair and seeing how upset she was, I decided to come clean.