Chapter 12

Carlos' weight weighed heavily on Ivy as they staggered out of the club. “Is someone coming to get you?” Ivy asked as she struggled to keep him from falling to the ground. 

“No.” He managed to respond and proceeded to speak inaudible words that made her cringe, she merely held herself from punching a hole in his face- that would not only get him to shut up but it would knock him out for sure and that would be worse because an unconscious Carlos would be way harder to move.

“Your car keys,” she said, letting him sit on the ground, resting his back on the fire hydrant while she caught her breath. “where is it?” She pushed her hair away from her face, both arms resting on her waist.

Carlos was too stoned to give her a direct response and this irritated her greatly. Her fingers folded into a fist as she took in deep breaths, glaring down at him with furious eyes.

“If you knew you couldn't handle it, you should have stopped drinking when you were down to your first bottle.” she muttered, her nostrils flared in anger.

Frustrated by his nonsensical words, she squatted and began searching him for the keys. Unfortunately, she could not find them. This made her extremely furious, so much that she grunted in anger.

They were starting to attract a lot of attention from passersby and she didn't like it. If she was to allow her emotions to lead her in that moment, she would be behind bars for Carlos' death in a matter of minutes. 

“Wait here, I'll go get my car.” She said, and rose to her feet. She glanced at him briefly, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips before walking away.

Ivy sat in her car, contemplating whether or not to go back for Carlos. She could easily drive off and head home, no one would hold her accountable for anything and she would be rid of his annoying self.

“Yes, that sounds like a plan.” She whispered to herself and started the ignition. 

As she merged onto the highway, a sudden realization struck her. ‘This is the perfect opportunity to infiltrate Carlos' home without arousing suspicion.’ The voice in her head whispered. ‘By the time he wakes up tomorrow and recalls the event of tonight, you would have won his trust completely. He can't help but be indebted to you.’

She battled with the thought in her head. Carlos was already a handful but it was true that she had a shot with him. At the next red light, she made a sudden decision and turned the car around, back to the club. 

She pulled up to the side of the road, a few feet away from where she left him. As she stepped out of the car, she noticed a man kneeling beside Carlos. She hesitated, as she observed the man from a distance. 

The man, Dylan, gently shook Carlos' shoulder “Sir, sir, are you alright?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. 

Ivy's eyes narrowed the moment she saw Dylan reach for Carlos' pocket. She searched the trunk of her car for any object she could use to scare the thief off but found nothing. Her best bet was her shoe or handbag. 

Ivy charged towards Dylan, her bag swinging in the air. Bang, bang, bang. She struck him repeatedly, forcing him to pull away, as he winced in pain. “Get away from him, thief!” She yelled at the top of her voice, stunning Dylan.

Carlos was half awake now. She swiftly pulled him up from the ground, throwing his arm over her shoulder, supporting his weight as they staggered forward.

Dylan was still stunned that he was mistaken for a thief but his conscience would not let him overlook the struggle she endured, trying to support Carlos. “Here, let me help you.” He approached her from behind but Ivy shrugged him off roughly, turning the side of her face to him.

“I’ll crush your bones if you dare lay another finger on me.” her voice was low and menacing. 

Dylan sensed the seriousness in her tone and backed off. He watched as she helped Carlos get in the car and sped off, leaving him wondering if he'd make a mistake by intervening.

“Hey man, are you alright?” Tim asked, approaching him from behind.

Dylan turned to him, still trying to process what had just happened. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just a weird misunderstanding.”

Tim's eyes scanned Dylan's expression. “Are you sure dude? You look like you've been charged for a crime you didn't commit.” 

Dylan rubbed the back of his sore head, recalling Ivy's fierce bag attack. Tim's guess was not far from the truth. “I tried to help a man who had passed out on the ground, when this lady came charging at me with her bag, calling me a thief.” He explained. 

He shook his head, incredulous. “Me, a thief?”

Tim broke out into a sudden burst of laughter, resting his hand on Dylan's shoulder. A frown appeared on Dylan's forehead as he shrugged him off. “I cannot believe you're laughing at this. It's not funny.” He scoffed.

“I'm sorry,” Tim tried to regain composure. “I leave you for a few minutes and you're already in a bag fight with some lady. Tell me how that isn't something to laugh at?” He jeered, unable to contain his laughter.

Dylan shook his head and sighed. “I cannot with you.” He turned to leave.

“Hey man, wait up!” Tim called after him.

Dylan stopped abruptly in his tracks and Tim seized the opportunity to catch up with him. He flung his arm over Dylan's shoulder.

“Did it hurt?” Tim asked, touching the back of Dylan's head as he stifled a laughter. Dylan glared at him. 

“Sorry, my bad.” Tim chuckled.

His gaze shifted from grinning Tim's face to the ground, where he spotted a lost wallet. Tim's eyes followed Dylan's who bent to pick it up.

They scanned the wallet cautiously, curious to find out who the owner was and how it had ended up there. Carefully, Dylan opened it, and his eyes widened in shock. Tim noticed the stunned expression on his face, and asked “what? Is something wrong?” 

“It's her.” Dylan's voice was barely above a whisper. “The woman from the pastry shop I told you about.”

Tim's eyes darted to the wallet and back to Dylan's face. “What? That's crazy. Does this mean she was here too?” He asked, puzzled by the mystery, as was Dylan who could not utter a response. 

“No, it's not possible.” Dylan chuckled, shrugging off the thought that the woman he had encountered moments ago could be her even though the spot where they found the wallet was the exact spot he had the encounter. 

“What's not possible?” Tim asked, confused.

“Nothing. Let's go.” Dylan waved his hand, walking ahead. 

“And the wallet?” Tim asked, following closely behind him.

“I guess I'll just have to return it to the owner.” He smiled, happy that his search was now coming to an end.