by Vi Carter
Glancing out at the crowd again, I meet a few gazes before walking towards the thief who’s being dragged off the floor by Blitz. Blitz slams the man’s arm on a nearby table and holds it firm.
“Now, you lose your hand,” I tell the man, and he tries to pull away from Blitz. He’s frantic in his desire to get away, but he can’t make Blitz’s huge frame budge, not even an inch.
“If you don’t hold still, I’ll take your head off.” The man falls numbly onto the table and starts to sob. “I won’t ever come here again.” His voice is low and carries a note of hopelessness.
“I know you won’t because if you do, I’ll take your other hand.”
Blitz shoves the man harder onto the table, and I’m so very tempted to look at Willow again. I want to see all her forms of fear. I raise the butcher knife, and the man screams long before the sharp blade cuts through flesh and bone, dislodging his hand from his wrist. Blood sprays and pools out onto the floor, and I stay where I am as his screams of horror turn to labored sobs. Blitz releases him, and he falls onto his back, cradling the stump as blood continues to ooze out of the wound.
Two security guards pick him up.
“My hand.” His words are weak, but his eyes are on fire with pain.
One of the security guards looks at me, and I shake my head. “His hand is mine.”
Hate fills the man’s eyes briefly before they are consumed with agony. I would stay longer and really soak up all that pain, but I’m aware of Willow behind me. I turn, and her arms hang at her side. Her small hands are balled up into fists, and I’m surprised at the numbness I see in her pretty eyes. I take a step towards her, and her gaze snaps to me. This is the part of Willow I can’t figure out. She juts out her chin, her golden hair swishing at the sharpness of the movement.
I’m waiting for the questions that don’t come. Noise starts to rise, and soon the market is bustling again. I glance at Blitz as he stuffs the hand into a plastic bag and holds it up to me.
“You really want to keep it?”
A shake of my head has him leaving with the severed hand. I didn’t want it. I just didn’t want the man to have the opportunity to have it put back on. Once I take something, it’s mine for good.
“Where were we?” I ask Willow.
“I’m working with Margie.” Her words are controlled, and I want nothing more than to see what’s really going on inside her head.
I close the distance between us, and her gaze flickers to my arm. I peek down at my arm and can see the flecks of red liquid.
“It’s not the cleanest job,” I say to Willow.
Her gaze jerks back to me. “Is it really only jam that Margie sells?”
She’s refusing to talk about the thief or what she just witnessed. “Yes, but it’s not any jam.” It’s a deadly poison, and with one small dollop on bread or dessert, the person would be dead.
I reach in and pick up a golden curl. Willow is quick to step away, showing me she isn’t as unaffected by what happened as she’s letting on.
“Can I start now?” She swallows before glancing at Margie.
“Do you have your phone?”
She holds out the black device.
“I’ll be here if you need me. If you can’t see me, just ring.”
She turns her back on me and moves towards Margie. I’m aware Blitz is waiting for me.
“What is wrong?” He wasn’t one to linger.
“Not here.” We leave the hangar. Each stall we pass has the sellers looking up and nodding with respect.
Outside, the air is heavy. “I think there’s a storm coming,” I speak to the sky as I inhale deeply.
“I think you’re fucking right.” Blitz pulls off his brown jacket and throws it on the ground before taking a pack of smokes and a lighter from his pocket. “The Rat Pack has taken another shipment that arrived last night. There are members in that fucking room.” Blitz points at the hanger with a jab of his finger.
“What do you suggest we do? Shut it down?” I was willing to listen to Blitz. The Rat Pack was like an infestation that I couldn’t get rid of.
A car pulls up close to us, and Fox climbs out. His skin is paler in the light of the day. He doesn’t help himself with his dark clothes and hair.
His limp affects his left foot as he walks towards us.
“The Rat Pack stole again last night,” Blitz informs him before taking a large inhale from his cigarette.
“Again?” Fox looks at me with a raised brow.
“What about shutting down the market until it’s solved?”
Fox sneers. “That’s not how you get rid of rats. They will use the opportunity to grow.”
Fox rubs his chin, and this is why he’s my right-hand man. He’s thinking and plotting on how to fix this problem.
“How do you kill rats?” Blitz asks before crushing the cigarette under his black military boot.
“You kill them.” Fox laughs and shrugs when Blitz doesn’t join in.
“I mean it.” Fox’s serious tone and expression are directed towards me. “Small bombs. Placed in six locations around the market.”
“You want me to blow up our number one source of income?”
I step closer to Fox, seeing his plan expand and develop in my mind. “We blame the Rat Pack. Say they targeted us.”
Fox grins and nods.
“We’ll kill our own people?” Blitz still hasn’t caught on.
I glance at him. “But we might kill theirs too, and spreading bad feelings amongst the people is what we want. There will always be a sacrifice in war. Right now, we need the Rat Pack to look like the enemy,”
Blitz shakes his head. “I don’t like this.” He rubs his clean-shaven jaw. “When do you want it done?”
I glance at Fox, and he smirks crookedly. “No time like the present.”
If they were doing this now, I needed to get Willow out of there.
“Okay, boys, get to work.” I leave Blitz and Fox and re-enter the market, making my way to Margie’s stall.
Willow is standing rigid along the side of the stall. Her gaze keeps skimming across the jam like it might grow legs and take a run and dive at her.
“We have to cut our stay short.”
Willow jumps slightly before reigning in her emotions. She doesn’t question me but steps away from the stall. I want to touch her again, but she’s mentally further away than she normally is.
She follows me out of the hangar. When we get outside, Blitz and Fox are nowhere to be seen. I unlock the car, and Willow climbs in. She’s staring out the window again like I don’t exist, or it’s her first time seeing the world, and she doesn’t want to miss a moment.
Once I’m in, I reach across and touch her hair. She doesn’t turn to me or pull away, and having no reaction from her, has me releasing her hair and starting the car.
I drive with no destination in mind. I wasn’t returning her to her gilded cage. I wasn’t ready to let her go. I had other jobs to do. Glancing at Willow, she’s still staring out the window. “Do you like flowers?”
Her attention is drawn to me, and I love the look that often flashes in her eyes when she looks directly at me. It’s like it’s her first time seeing me, and she’s taking in every detail. I can’t stop the grin that coats my lips.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” I know where to take her, and I can get some work done too.
The large, green, double gates open slowly, and I drive in. Willow sits up straighter, and I drive slowly. I’m impressed with what I’ve built here. Flowers burst between the bushes, colors complement each other, and I know the overall effect is stunning.
Willow rolls down her window, and I stop the car. She looks at me. “A garden center?” I take the keys out of the ignition and get out of the car. She does too, and I walk around to her. She seems cagey now, and I stop a few feet away.
“It’s my garden.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, and she looks out across the acres of landscaping that I had
spent years creating.
“You garden?” Her voice rises slightly, and I take a step towards her.
“I do.”
“Why, what’s in it for you?”
I laugh at her words, and her cheeks darken. She’s right, I have reasons for my garden, but that wasn’t something I would be sharing with her.
“The sheer joy of taking a seed and watching it grow, only because I planted it.”
“You think yourself a god?”
More laughter falls from my lips, and I move closer to Willow. I want to kiss her. “If I was a god, I could have my way with you.”
Her eyelashes flutter closed, and she looks out into the rows of flowers before glancing back at me.
“What am I doing here?”
I step away from her. The monotone is back, and I do have work to do. “I have some jobs to do, so take your time and look around. Enjoy.”
Her eyes narrow ever so slightly, and I want to capture her lips in between mine. I’m staring at her mouth for far too long.
The rise and fall of her chest grows faster, and I take a step back towards her. She quickly pushes her hands behind her back before taking a step away from me.
“If I get lost, I’ll ring you.” She turns on her heel, and I watch her until she disappears between white rose bushes. I had a few bodies to burn, and then I would find her.
CHAPTER FIVE
WILLOW
I can’t move. My legs have turned to jelly as I glance around me. It’s like I’m dreaming. I know what’s just happened, but my brain once again won’t let it register. I’m aware that Rian just cut off a man’s hand right in front of me. I’m aware of the amount of blood that was spilled. But that seems to be it. I’m aware but not reacting like I’ve got a broken heart.
I move and step deeper into the rows of flowers. To think he could create something like this. The sky is cloudless as I throw my head back and inhale deeply. I want something to fall from the sky and break me, wake me up.
The red rose bushes to my left spill over the fencing, trying to keep them in with no avail. I step closer and wrap my hand around the stem of the roses. The thorns pierce my skin, and the pain ignites quickly in my hand. Along with the pain comes a flash of fear that dies far too quickly. Once I let the rose go, the pain dies along with my fear.
I tighten my fist as warm liquid pools in my palm. Roses turn to shrubbery before it reduces to small wildflowers that release their lavender scent and a tinge of oranges catches on the soft breeze. It’s a picture-perfect day. If I saw this in a painting or captured in a scene, I would think it was picture-perfect. I stop when a large red brick structure comes into view—soft gray billows of smoke puff from the double chimney. Rian closes the front door of the furnace. My stomach twists as I walk towards the sinister structure. I’m thinking the worst, and I know I’m right too.
Rian turns around and assesses me slowly.
“What are you burning?” I ask as the smell of something else mingles with the scent of the flowers. The flowers are more powerful, but still, I can taste the saltiness on my tongue. We weren’t near the sea, but that’s kind of what it smelled like.
“Bushes.” Rian takes a step towards me. “I scatter the ashes on the clay, and it helps the flowers grow.” He grins. “But don’t tell anyone. It’s my little secret.”
Rian is sharing a secret with me. My heart gallops as his gaze roams across my face and settles on my lips. I’ve wondered a million times what it would feel like to have a man like him kiss me.
“You don’t have to look so fearful. I’m not going to hurt you.” His words aren’t delivered with any encouragement that I shouldn’t fear him. I think he liked the fear that I always tried to hide.
“I’m not afraid,” I lie.
A lie he reads too easily. “You're afraid of something.” He takes a step towards me. “You’re hiding something. Something big.” He grins like this is a little game.
My stomach hollows out. “I’ve nothing to hide. I most certainly wouldn’t hide anything from you.”
His laughter sends my heart fluttering. The smile on his face transforms him. His teeth are perfectly straight and white. He’s perfect. It really shouldn’t be so. I wonder again what it would be like to laugh just like him. My lips twitch like I’m trying it out, and I can’t stop the wobbly smile that erupts out of me.
His laughter dies, and he stares at me.
A wave of confusion slices through my system, and I swallow the smile, trying to keep the tsunami in me at bay. I wrap my hands around my stomach as pain blossoms too.
“You’re beautiful.” He says the words so off handily like it’s okay to say such things. The ringing of his phone has him digging into his pocket and answering it. He doesn’t look away from me. “How many are dead?”
I catch my breath and hold it.
“They must have been large bombs.” His statement isn’t said with any care, really, and I frown as he hangs up.
“The market was attacked. Over a hundred are dead.”
I hold my hands behind my back as he slips his phone back into his pocket. “The market we just left?”
“Yes. Thank God we got out.”
The moment of horror washes over me but quickly dies away. Rian watches me closely, and now I step away from him.
“When I start to think you're good, I realize I’m wrong. You came here because you knew those bombs would go off. Did you plant them?” Did it matter? What was I doing? I shouldn’t ask questions. It opens a window allowing him to see what I don’t want him to see.
“I’m not good, so don’t ever think that.” His words are a matter of fact, and he takes a step closer to me.
My body grows stiffer, keeping me in place. “I won’t make that mistake again,” I tell his chest, refusing to meet his eyes.
His warm fingers lift my chin until I’m looking into his eyes. “I would be good to you if you let me.”
I frown at his offer. He had no idea what he was saying. I want to laugh, I want to accept, but I need to remember I’m alone in all this, and I need to stay that way.
“No.” I pull away from his warm touch, and he doesn’t seem put out by my rejection.
I want to reach out and touch something. I’m a little unsteady. He makes everything tilt and warp, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing anymore. I turn away from him and start to walk. Opening my hand, a small amount of blood escapes.
“You cut yourself?” Rian falls into step beside me.
I don’t answer him but remove my cardigan and use it to soak up the small amount of blood.
“Good Riddance.”
I flicked a glance at Rian.
“I hate that cardigan. I need to get you a work uniform.”
I feel exposed in just my white blouse.
“It’s my favorite cardigan,” I speak quickly.
“Really?”
No, not really. It was my mother’s favorite cardigan.
“I like red.” I give up something about myself and regret it the moment Rian stops and takes my hand in his. He pulls the cardigan away from my palm, and my fingers open up instantly like a flower blooming.
“Like blood?” He isn’t looking at me; he’s staring at the wounds. He runs his finger along the wound and brings it to his mouth.
Horror fills me as he licks my blood from his finger. “I could have a disease.”
“Do you?” Amusement flashes in Rian’s eyes.
Heat pulsates through my body. “No. But you didn’t know that.” I blink several times and pull my hand behind my back.
“I see your fear again.” Rian’s too close, and he’s taking up all the air. “I think you’re afraid of what you feel for me?”
“I feel nothing for you, Rian.” Lies slip so easily from my tongue.
“A kiss would end this debate.”
My stomach rolls, and I want to step away from him, but that would prove him right. He would think I was afraid, and I couldn’t let a
ny of my wounds be exposed to him.
“There is no debate.”
“If I kiss you, and you honestly feel nothing, I will leave you alone.” His serious tone has my heart pumping harder. I had thought of kissing him too many times, and right here, and right now, I could see exactly how it would feel.
“This is silly.” I don’t move.
His feet come into view, and I tilt my head back so I can meet his eyes. “If it’s silly, then why not just do it?” He takes a step away. “Or I’m right, and you are afraid of feeling something for me.” He shrugs like he’s won this.
I know he’s goading me.
“One kiss, and if I feel nothing, you stop touching my hair and all your crude comments.”
His eyes light up. “I promise.” His gaze flickers to my lips.
“Fine.” I stand taller. It’s only a kiss. No one will know. I stomp on the excitement that’s bubbling up inside me. All I had to do is tell him I felt nothing, and maybe I would feel nothing. He could be a horrible kisser.
Rian grins as he steps closer to me. I have no idea what to expect. He takes my face in his large hands and tilts it back. His eyes dance across my face. “Are you ready?”
He was trying to build the suspense. “Just do it.”
His grin widens, and his hands tighten on my face. “You can’t rush these things.”
“I think you’re the one stalling now.” I’m ready to smile in victory when a savage look flashes across his eyes, and he presses his lips against mine. It jumpstarts my heart, and I’m thrust into a whirlwind of emotions that shake and rattle my bones. His hold on me becomes more demanding, and the hardness of his chest under my hands makes me realize I’m gripping him like he’s an anchor that will keep me from drowning in pain and want. His hands run down my neck, and I know I have to stop this; I can’t shatter in Rian’s hands. My fists slam into his chest as I shove him away from me.
I try to control my breathing and not let him see that he is undoing me. “Nothing.” The word is angry and breathless, and I know straight away, I am a fool. I know before his shaky laughter has me looking up at him.
