Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2) Read Free

Clive had the opportunity to kill you, but didn’t. He wants Devon.”
    “Right.”
    “Well, just call him,” Scott said with a shrug. “If you’re afraid he’s monitoring your cell or something, you can use mine. Warn Devon about Clive, then tell him to get his ass back here and take care of it. It’s not like you need some psycho holding a knife to your throat.” He dug his cell phone from his pocket and held it out to me, but I didn’t take it.
    “Um, I can’t,” I said.
    “Can’t what?”
    “Can’t call Devon.”
    “Why not?”
    This was so awkward, I hated even having to say it. “I don’t have his number,” I confessed. “Or any other way to reach him.”
    Scott looked at me in disbelief, surprise rendering him momentarily speechless. Then he said, “You have no way to communicate with Devon? No phone number or emergency contact information?”
    I shook my head.
    “What if you need something?” he asked, and now I could see anger building in his eyes. “He just pops into town whenever he feels like it and leaves the same way?”
    It was about a thousand times worse hearing Scott say this than Marcia. At least Marcia was a woman and didn’t judge me—women the world over did stupid things for men and we all knew it. But having a man look at me like I was out of my mind to allow myself to be in a relationship like this . . . I wasn’t able to keep my mortification at bay and I could feel my face burning.
    “I didn’t say it was a perfect relationship,” I murmured, at a loss as to what else I could say.
    “A perfect—are you kidding me?” Scott fumed. “You’re in danger and have no way to reach him. It’s not a relationship, Ivy. It’s called having a fuck buddy.”
    I felt the blood drain from my face at the utter scorn and derision in his words.
    “Excuse me.” I slid out of the booth. “I shouldn’t have called you.”
    “No, wait,” Scott said, jumping to his feet and catching hold of my arm. “I’m sorry, Ivy. I don’t mean to sound so harsh. Please stay.”
    I stared at my feet, the ground blurring as unshed tears built in my eyes.
    “I’m sorry,” he repeated, and he did sound contrite. “Sit down. Please.”
    Finally, I gave a curt nod and sat back down in the booth. Scott took his seat again, too.
    “Okay, so I won’t go into my thoughts on how Devon is treating you,” Scott said. “Let’s just solve the problem, okay?”
    I looked up at him. “Sounds good.”
    Scott took a good look at my watery eyes and his jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.
    “So you can’t go to Devon’s apartment because you’ll lead this Clive guy there,” Scott said. “And I’m assuming you don’t want to lead Clive to where you used to live either, right?”
    I nodded. “Plus, Logan and I aren’t exactly getting along right now,” I said.
    “Somehow I doubt he’d care about that if he knew you were in trouble.”
    I didn’t argue. It was probably true, but that didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t going to drag Logan into it.
    “So I guess I see why you called me,” Scott said with an almost imperceptible sigh.
    “I thought . . . since you’re an FBI agent . . . you might be able to help me,” I said. “I don’t want Clive to climb into my car again.” My throat thickened and I had to brush a hand across my eyes.
    “Shh, it’ll be okay,” Scott said, reaching across the table and taking my hand. “Let’s get some dinner and we’ll figure it out, okay?”
    He sounded so kind and capable, his hand reassuring on mine, and I nodded.
    We had dinner—well, Scott ate. I mostly picked at a salad, his words about Devon echoing inside my head. Combined with what I knew to be Marcia’s disapproval, plus Logan’s, it seemed everyone thought what Devon and I had was a complete and utter joke that was entirely on me.
    Scott made small talk, asking me how my job was going and things like that, which I readily answered. We steered carefully clear