#iv's

Mac was different now too. Somehow, even more gentle. His eyes, softer. Ivy knew why. When she woke the morning after their talk, head foggy and pounding, nausea churning in her stomach, she’d found her sleeve rolled up, and a bandage on her arm. She’d stared at it in dull shock. She hadn’t bandaged it herself. She was sure of that. She’d been too drunk and sloppy to do it herself. Mac must have done it, which meant, she must have told him about it. Did she tell him she’d done it herself? That she had burned herself in a moment where she’d completely lost herself? What else had she told him?

She couldn’t stand to think about what she had said to them at the station. The way James had paled and stumbled back from her. The way Mac could hardly speak. And the way she had just kept going, digging herself deeper, making things worse. Risking everything she’d worked so hard to protect. Her job, her home, her friends. 

She was lucky that James had allowed her to stay. And luckier still, he was allowing her this opportunity to gain his trust again. She didn’t want to see Harrison again. She was terrified of the prospect of speaking to him. Standing in the same room. His smug aura, his condescending tone, the knowledge that he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to mock and belittle her again. But there weren’t any other options. And Ivy needed her team to know she was reliable. That she could deliver on her promise to get results. To get stronger. To do better.

Thankfully, James had told her to wait a couple of days to get her bearings before their meeting. She needed it. But he’d also done her a disservice. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She felt uncomfortable in their presence, like she was putting on a show. And alone, her mind whirled in the silence with memories of her time in captivity. Of her torture. She was still getting used to that word. It sounded so extreme. So severe.

In an effort to keep busy, Ivy occupied herself with cleaning. It was something she could contribute, even if it was minor. Sweeping, dusting, and wiping every corner of the house. She’d masqueraded it as spring cleaning, but the guys knew what she was doing. They left her to it. They needed space from her, too. Some time to process.

When she reached the study, she’d seen a flash of blue in the garbage can and frozen up. James’s pack of cigarettes lay in the midst of crumpled paper. Heart thumping in her throat, she’d reached down for it. She had to know. It was nearly full. Ivy had thrown them back, tears in her eyes, guilt bubbling in her gut, and hurriedly tied the bag closed. Her own words ringing in her ears. Disgusting habit. She’d been so caught up in herself, she hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t smoking anymore. It was the only thing he used to keep himself grounded. And he’d set it aside because of her. Because of her words. Before she could stop herself, she was quietly crying into her hands.

She’d struggled to look at him during dinner that night, but fought to keep things normal. She was getting better at it. They were slowly getting back to how things used to be. They’d even laughed about one of Ivy’s skeevy ex-boyfriends. That was nice. It brought the illusion of normalcy. But she could still feel the strain she’d caused hanging over them.

Today had to be different.

“Hey.” Mac began, “You’re sure you want to do this?”

They were standing in the observation room, Ivy’s eyes fixed on Harrison on the other side of the mirror, handcuffed to the table. Even from here, even with him restrained, she felt a tingle up her spine.

“I’m sure.” She replied firmly. “It won’t be like last time.”

“We’ll be right here.” James said, beside her, watching him too. “You can leave any time. Don’t let him mess with you.”

“I won’t. I don’t have anything to hide this time.” She nodded, not looking away from her attacker. She hesitated. “You guys don’t have to stay. I don’t know if you’ll want to hear all of this.”

“Do you want us to go?” Mac asked, placing a light hand on her shoulder.

“No. But if I’m going to get answers, I’m going to have to play along... I know that... just... the other day-”

“It’s okay.” James offered. “If you’re okay with it, we’ll stay.”

“I am.”

“Okay. You can do this. You’re good at this stuff.”

“Birdcall or something if you need us.” Mac said, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

Ivy forced a small laugh. “Alright.” She pulled free from his grip and moved to the door.

"You got this.” Mac called, moving to the coffee machine in the corner. “We’re right here.”

“Good luck.” James smiled weakly, pulling up a chair.

She returned it, “Thanks.” and entered the bright fluorescent room.

Harrison locked onto her the moment the door opened. His eyes, hungry. Predatory. Ivy felt a wave of nausea as the door sealed her in. She suddenly felt very alone. Very small.

“You’re back.” He smiled. “I knew you would be.”

“I’m back.” She shrugged casually, moving towards the metal table and pulling a document from her file. She placed it on the table in front of him. “I have some questions I need you to answer.”

“You know, I have some questions for you, too.” He smiled, glancing down to the sheet. “Why’d you run off the other day? Did I strike a nerve?”

“No.” She lied lightly. Today, she would be unflappable. More casual. Her previous strategy of firmness had yielded little results. She pulled herself down in a chair across from him, and rested her file beside her. He was too close to her. With her sitting, he was looming down on her again. She could feel his phantom hand, gripping her wrist, squeezing her throat. She pushed away the hatred in her chest. It wouldn’t do any good. “I wasn’t willing to play your game, but I’ve reconsidered.”

“Smart girl.” He mused. Ivy felt another twinge of disgust. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”

“Tell me about the bomb.” Ivy said, pushing the paper towards him. “What do you plan to do with it?”

He studied her for a moment, and she fought to hold his horrible hungry gaze. “I hardly think that’s fair.”

She squinted at him.

“You can’t ask your big question first.” He continued with light annoyance. “You have to build to it. I know you, you’ll just leave once I’ve answered it.”

You don’t know me.

“That’s my question.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair.

“I’ll answer it. I told you I would when we spoke the other day. Before you ran off. But like I said, first, I want to talk to you, Red.” He adjusted himself in his seat, jingling his handcuffs. “I know you’re not the brightest, so I’ll go first so you understand how this works.”

Ivy bit the inside of her cheek. She didn’t want to play along. Not really. But she needed answers.

“How are you sleeping these days?”

“Fine.” Ivy replied lightly.

“It doesn’t work if you lie.” He tutted.

She considered for a moment and decided she could be truthful about this one. They would only get worse. If she mostly told the truth, it would be easier to lie later. “I don’t sleep anymore.”

He nodded, surveying her. He seemed satisfied. “I thought as much. Do you dream of me?”

She did. Frequently. Horrible nightmares where she was still strapped to that chair, while he held her down and burned her, and she’d wake up trashing against her blankets. “It’s my turn. The bomb.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Come on, I know you’re smarter than that. Don’t make me repeat myself. Save that for the finale.”

Ivy swallowed. What was he saving for his ‘finale’?

“Give me an easy one.” He continued, a smile creeping back onto his face.

“Fine.” Ivy reached into her file and produced her drawing of Pete. “Tell me about Pete.”

“Did you draw this?” He asked, pulling it towards himself.

Ivy shrugged, hoping her embarrassment didn’t show. But even if it did, that was okay. She wasn’t trying to be tough today. If she appeared vulnerable, he was more likely to share. To taunt. To spill more than he should.

“You’ve really captured his essence. He’ll be so flattered. He’s a big fan of you.”

She fought a shudder, remembering his calloused hand stroking her face. His thumb against her lip. And the way he said that... as if they’d be seeing each other again. “Tell me about him.”

“He’s my right hand man.” Harrison said proudly, studying her messy artwork “Jack of all trades. Very dependable. Always delivers. You can’t really ask for more. He’s running the show while I’m in here. I can’t wait to see what he’s done.”

“I don’t think you’ll get to see from prison.” She said raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll be surprised.” He replied.

I’ll be-?

“Do you dream of me?” Harrison repeated.

Ivy felt fresh repulsion. She was really going to have to answer this. “You’ve appeared in some nightmares.”

Harrison’s face lit up. “That’s the best part of my job. The lingering-”

“It’s my turn.” She dismissed, reaching into her file and producing another drawing. “Tell me about Winnie.”

“Winnie’s a star.” He said with admiration. “You know, she’s the reason we got to spend all that time together. She’s an expert cracker. Got through your security and your safe all on her own. Doesn’t hurt that she’s easy on the eyes. Her attitude could use some work, though.”

This was new information. Valuable information. Her name hadn’t brought any results, but that made sense now. If she was as good as he said, it was only natural they couldn’t find any trace of her.

“My turn...” He considered. “Did you scar?”

“I did.” Ivy nodded, trying not to convey any emotion, but her stomach bunched.

“Show me.”

Her fresh burn throbbed. “That’s not a question. And it’s my turn.” 

“C’mon, Red.” He tutted. “I’m giving you some good answers, here. If you keep being short with me, I might not be so generous.”

That was probably true. He was being very talkative. And James and Mac had already seen. One arm would likely satisfy him. He wouldn’t need to know about her other burn. Her new burn. Ivy extended her right arm along the cold table top, making sure not to get too close to him, and pulled up her sleeve.

“Ah...” He marveled, leaning forward and peering down. Admiring his work. His gaze felt violating, tracing up and down her pale forearm. She felt her cheeks burn, and hurriedly pulled back. “Hey, there’s no need to be shy.”

She swallowed and reached into her file again. “Tell me about your tall friend.”

“Markus.” Harrison pulled the page towards him. “Not the brightest. A man of no words. But he’s got the physical strength I need. The muscle. Does the jobs I don’t want to do myself. He’s one of my favorites.”

I killed him. He died on top of me. I felt his last breaths, you sick piece of shit.

“How many times did I burn you?” His eyes were cold again. She could tell he was enjoying this.

Ivy’s mind flickered to James behind the glass. His pained face. His cigarettes in the trash. “Eighteen times.”

“I knew you’d count... It took us a while to work through the pack. How many on each arm?”

“Eight on my right. Seven on my left.” Eight on my left, now. “Three along my collarbone.” She hated that they were hearing this. That she had it memorized. That Mac knew how many she actually had.

“I hate a lack of symmetry.” Harrison shook his head. “Maybe we can even you out next time.”

Ivy’s heart thudded hard. “There’s not going to be a next time.” She was relieved her tone was even. Why did he seem so sure he was getting out of here? “How did your team find the coordinates?”

“Ah...” He nodded, satisfied. “So they found it?”

Ivy’s stomach tightened. She’d ran through these questions with James. He was certain Harrison would know. That he would have planned it. She looked through him, her eyes cold.

“Well, that must have been your doing.”

Ivy’s eyes stung. Her cheeks burned. Her temperature rose. The insinuation that she was in any way responsible... She wasn’t. She hadn’t told them anything. Mac and James behind the mirror flashed through her mind. Would they think she’d lied about that, too? “What are you talking about?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Not you, Red. You were useless. Annoyingly stubborn, but that’s what made you so fun.”

A tiny portion of tension released. Maybe James could trust her again.

“Your team. If you told the police, it would have made its way back to my friends. They’re known to confiscate radios. They like to know what’s going on.”

That made sense. But that meant James had indirectly given away their information. And he already felt responsible for too much.

“How does your angry captain feel about us smoking together?” Harrison grinned.

“Don’t say it like that.” She cut. “I’m here to talk about me. Not them.”

“I’m telling you about my friends.” He reminded her.

“He’s furious.” Ivy bit. “And he wants to kill you.”

“You two have that in common.”

“We do.” She replied flatly. “I’m nearly out of questions for you.”

“Well, I’ll have to make my next ones count.”

Ivy studied his smug expression. She had to ask. “Why are you so sure you’re getting out of here?”

He tutted. “Do you not remember when I said I have connections everywhere?”

“What does that mean?”

“No...” He gave his head a shake of pity. “It’s my turn to keep my answers short. And I told you before, I’m a fan of show don’t tell.”

Ivy grit her teeth. This smug piece of shit. He couldn’t leave. He had to rot for what he’d done. And this false confidence was turning her stomach. What did he mean? Did he have connections at the station? Her sense of security was slowly shattering. The table between them, his handcuffs, it suddenly didn’t feel like enough. She reminded herself that her friends were within reach and took a slow breath through her nose.

“What to ask you...” He pretended to ponder. “Are you ashamed of your team?” His tone was disgustingly condescending.

“No.”

“No?” He mused. “I would be... After what, nearly a week? And they didn’t even come close to finding you.”

She bit her cheek again. “No.”

“I was disappointed.” He continued. “I was hoping they’d come by on their own. I had it all planned. Having to call was embarrassing.”

Ivy didn’t need to know what he meant. She’d had enough. “Tell me about the bomb.”

“Are we done already?” He seemed disappointed. “You haven’t even asked me the question... and I was so looking forward to it.”

“The bomb.” She repeated. She didn’t know what he was talking about.

He let out a sigh of disappointment. “I need it to negotiate with some other parties. It’s a little incentive to push a deal through. Something like that can really hurry things up.”

I’m done. That’s good enough.

Ivy nodded at him, and began to pull the papers from his side of the table. Being so close to him was repulsive.

“Wait, Red. It’s my turn.”

“You went first.” She replied, pilling the pages together. “We’re done.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to play. I’ll just answer the question I was hoping you’d ask.”

She rose, ignoring him. “I don’t know what you’re-”

“About what would have happened, if you didn’t shoot me. What I was going to do with you.”

She swallowed hard, and slammed the edges of the paper with force, straightening them up. He was going to kill her. She already knew that.

“I was surprised to learn you’re afraid of needles.” He grinned up at her.

Her blood turned to ice.

She suddenly felt trapped in the small space between the chair and the table. This was too personal. He shouldn’t know that. He was too close.

“It was in your file. I was surprised, it’s such a small thing. But then again, so are you.”

She blinked at him. She didn’t notice her pages were shaking.

“I knew you’d be stubborn on that phone call. You were such a pain, all week... I knew you’d tell them not to come. I thought, if I couldn’t lure your friends in, I’d give you an IV.”

Ivy.

Her arms goosebumped. The notion, too disgusting. The word coming out of his mouth, too similar to her name. He’d never said her actual name before. But she could picture it. She could feel it. Him gripping her arm, holding her still, and stabbing a needle through her skin.

She opened her mouth, but she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t notice she wasn’t breathing.

“I was so excited about it. Whether they were coming or not, we would have done it. I’ve never done one before, but I’m sure I could have figured it out.” His eyes were glistening with delight. “I mean, how hard can it be? It’s just a little needle.” 

“I-I...” Ivy stuttered, blinking back a threatening tear.

"I was really going to push you. I wanted to see how much you could really handle. My friend at the hospital brought me by some good stuff. Something that would have really made you break.”

She tried to pull back, the chair behind her bumping the back of her knees.

“You know, Red... Once you got past the little procedure, I think you would have had a great time.”

There was a dull ringing in her ears.

“The one I was so excited to try... it was guaranteed to make you snap. And once you were good and high... Crying... Screaming... Begging me to stop... That’s when I was going to film you... I think that would have done it. That would have brought those boys by.”

“I...”

“Don’t worry. You wouldn’t have suffered long.” He said, sympathetically. “I would have killed you before they arrived. I’m a good guy. I would have put you out of your misery. You wouldn’t have had to face them after that... And when they found you, dead in that chair... That’s when I would have moved on to th-”

Harrison’s face smashed into the table with an audible crunch.

A loud clatter came from behind her. Papers were flying. Ivy’s body had moved so quickly, her brain hadn’t yet registered. Her hand was woven into his oily hair. She’d slammed his face into the metal with force. 

In a panic, she wrenched him back up. Blood was gushing from his nose, onto his shirt and the table below him, splatting onto white sheets of paper. He grinned at her with bloody teeth and Ivy slammed him down again, a tiny shriek coming from the back of her throat.

There was noise coming from beside her.

She yanked him back up again. His face still stretched with sick satisfaction, but a little less this time. Ivy went to slam him for a third time when a hand caught her elbow. A set of arms wrapped around her waist and left shoulder, lifting her into the air. She flailed and kicked wildly, keeping her grip. Tugging him with her movement. Strangled cries escaping her.

A voice was by her ear. She could hear her name. A tan hand met hers, trying to gently uncoil her fingers. She turned in confusion. It was James, holding her elbow and hand. “Ivy. Let go.” He ordered softly. 

His eyes were warm. She came back to herself. She blinked at him for a moment and stopped moving, her grip still tight. James uncurled her fingers and released her. Still in the air, she began to move backwards. She cast a panicked glance up and saw it was Mac, dragging her from the room. Her heart was thudding too loudly in her ears to hear what he was saying. She looked back. Her chair was turned over. Papers were scattered around where she’d stood. Harrison’s face was gushing blood, his nose crooked. James was moving around, collecting the bloodstained pages, ignoring him. Even from a distance, Ivy could see him fighting the tension in his body.

Harrison was saying something, his eyes following her as she was pulled back into the dim observation room. 

The door closed and left her in the dark. Mac gently lowered her onto shaky knees. She could hear his heavy breath coming from behind. She stared blankly at the heavy metal door, whole body twitching. His threat crashing through her. She could visualize it so clearly. Him grinning as he stabbed a needle into her hand. She could feel it. Screams and sobs being ripped from her body. Helpless to stop herself. Her body beyond her control. How close she’d come to a horrible death. Her friends, too. Footage of her suffering immortalized. All because she’d been taken that day. All because she was too weak to defend herself. She’d nearly let them die. It would have been her fault if they-

“Ivy, sit down.” Mac said, a waver in his voice, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She wasn’t sure she could move. “I’m okay.” Her voice came from far away.

He stepped beside her, and pushed gently, moving her towards a seat. “C’mon.”

“Okay.” She replied dully, letting him guide her.

As she lowered herself down, James emerged with her file and closed the door behind him. “What a piece of shit.”

“Yeah.” Ivy and Mac agreed in unison. Mac’s voice was suddenly full of grit.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She leaned forward and rubbed her face. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have done that.” Mac’s hand was slowly rubbing her back. She could feel his hand shaking slightly. 

He moved to join them. “It’s okay. I’ll take the heat. You got him pretty good. Broke his nose.”

“Not as good as he got me.” She said plainly, pulling herself back up and looking through the mirror. Harrison was still pouring blood onto himself, unable to stop the bleeding due to his restricted hands. 

“I hate to say it, but we need to get him some medical attention.” Mac said scornfully.

“He can wait a minute.” James dismissed. “What an asshole... Ivy, you did really well.”

She shook her head weakly. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t worry about all that. If you hadn’t got him, I think I would've.”

“I didn’t even ask him where his friends are hiding.” She whispered. “I got distracted.”

“It’s okay.” Mac soothed. “You were great.”

“Maybe I can try again...” She heard herself say.

“We’re not wasting any more time on that piece of shit.” James interrupted. “You got us some good stuff. We’ll figure this out.”

“He said ‘next time’.” Her voice broke. “What if he-?”

“That’s not going to happen.” James moved beside her. “We won’t let it.”

She nodded, eyes still locked on Harrison. 

He was still too close.

____________

Next

____________

Taglist: