by Vi Carter
“Your friend is looking for you.”
Rian glances behind me, and I don’t think he’s aware that he’s taken two steps closer to me. My heart gallops as I think of the contents in the bin.
I move away like I’ve nothing to hide. I’m expecting him to forget about the bin, but he walks past me.
“I was taking out the rubbish.” My voice sounds devoid of any emotion, and I use that to bring my heart rate under control. I hear the lid go back on the bin before I turn to Rian.
Relief swims through me and with that emotion comes something deeper. Folding my arms behind my back, I squeeze the cut and allow the pain to take over everything else.
“Willow...” Rian stuffs his hands into his trousers pockets. He hunches forward and his eyes hold a vulnerability I’ve never seen before. It’s beautiful and deadly all at once and right now, I need to use it to my advantage.
I exhale and force a smile. “I didn’t take you for someone who couldn’t take no for an answer.”
It’s a flick of a switch. He’s standing taller, his eyes darker, and he flinches like I’ve burnt him. He displays a smile of his own, only his sends dread pooling in the pit of my stomach.
I’m aware of the approaching figure, and all I can hope is that it isn’t my mother. When I look back towards the house, I see Blitz approach us. I use it as my moment to escape Rian.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
RIAN
“Go on in. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Blitz pauses but goes back into the house. I’m staring at the bin. Willow was shaken, and I’ve never wanted to know so bad what someone is hiding because she is hiding something. She had looked pale and shifty. Her smile was too wide, and now I know trying to smash down her walls isn’t the answer. I needed to peel the layers back slowly. She has no idea how patient I am. She needed to understand that when I said she was mine, I meant it.
Taking the lid off the trash can, I see the edge of a white towel. Pushing aside all the scraps of food and packaging, the towel becomes more visible. I take it out, and it unravels. I’ve seen my fair share of blood—I’ve spilled a lot of it—but the sight of the soaked towel sends something primal racing through me. I want to grab her and examine every inch of her body. I open the towel, and a knife tumbles out onto the ground. The tip is smeared in blood. I have no idea what any of this means. Gathering up the towel and knife, I tuck them under my arm and return to Blitz.
When I enter the room, he eyes the contents in my arms but doesn’t question it. I place them on the side table.
“The detective was with Chad. I couldn’t do anything.”
“So, he’s still alive.” I turn to Blitz.
He removes his glasses and rubs his eyes like he’s been up all night. “I can’t do anything when he’s being protected.”
This was a headache I didn’t need. “Put someone at his bedside at all times. If he wakes up, we need to know.” I would have to make a personal visit.
Blitz sits down and puts his glasses back on. Leaning against the sideboard, my gaze keeps drifting to the white towel. What was she up to?
“So you and Willow?” Blitz grins at me. I didn't exactly discuss her, but I wouldn’t hide it either.
“She will come around to the idea.”
Blitz snorts a laugh. “Brute force can work, but I’m not sure about her.”
“Brute force isn’t my style.” I flick the towel open and remove the knife. Holding it up to the light, I study the blood.
She had hit Chad when he attacked her, had someone else hurt her? The thought has me nearly curling my fingers around the blade. Is she panicking right now?
Irritation courses through me. Why didn’t she come to me for help?
“Everything alright?” Blitz asks while jutting his chin towards the blood-soaked towel.
“I’m not sure.”
I look at Biltz now. I trusted him with my life. “Tomorrow at the market, I’m going to put Willow with you.”
“I’m searching the floor space.”
I nod and push away from the sideboard. “I know, but I can’t leave her with Margie.” I sit down beside Blitz, still holding the knife.
“I need you to suggest she helps you.”
“I'll do it, but why do I have to suggest it? Why don’t you?”
I twirl the knife at the tip of my finger before glancing at Blitz. “She’ll go against me.” My jaw clenches at that thought. She was panicking lately. Her panic is forcing her to push me away. I need to make her trust me—that way, she will finally open up and tell me why she dumped a knife in the bin outside.
***
I’m sitting in the kitchen as I do every morning. Catherine moves around, making Willow her green tea. I’ve thought about telling her to make Willow a coffee, but that would only get Willow in trouble. She’s watching me with her hateful eyes. The bang of the spoon on the table is meant to get my attention, but she can fuck right off. The way she treats Willow, I have always let slide, but lately, it is getting harder to ignore.
I turn my attention to the doorway as Willow enters. She’s wearing trousers and a shirt that’s covered by a frumpy cardigan. My hands remember the softness of her skin. She does the same thing. She refuses to look at me as she kisses her mother’s cheek and takes her cup of tea. This is the point where she normally sits down and finally looks at me, but this morning she doesn’t.
“I was looking for you last night.” She stays standing as she speaks to her mother.
“I was out.” Catherine glances at me, but Willow makes it appear like I’m not here.
I grin into my coffee as she continues to ignore me.
“I needed to give you my answer.”
Once again, I’m aware of how much Catherine stiffens. “Later, we can talk. Now sit and eat your fruit.”
Willow hesitates. “Later.” Catherine reminds her, and they are doing a piss-poor job at trying to appear that everything is okay.
Was Willow looking for her mother last night to help her with whatever situation called for a knife and a towel drenched in blood?
Willow sits down, and her gaze is drawn to me. I smile at her, and she quickly starts eating her breakfast.
“Oh, I wanted to ask. I’m missing a knife. Has anyone seen it?” Catherine is watching Willow, and so am I. Willow looks up and shakes her head.
“I don’t cook. You know me…” She smiles. “I’d burn water.” Catherine looks relieved and smiles at her daughter.
Willow is a good liar. “I did.”
Willow’s gaze shoots up to me, and her skin pales. I hold her terrified gaze and watch as her eyes pool wider. Releasing her, I stand up with my mug of coffee.
“I needed it, and I highly doubt you would want it back.”
Catherine curls up her nose at me as I pour the coffee down the sink. “I never knew we were counting the knives—I feel like I’m back in prison.”
This topic ruffles Catherine’s feathers. It’s not public knowledge. My father made sure to keep it buried.
Willow’s spoon rattles against her bowl, and I want to see her reaction to that. “I have work, Catherine, so I’ll leave you to count your knives while I take your daughter with me.”
Her lips form a thin line of anger, and I wink at her. “Are you ready, Willow?”
I relax when my gaze lands on my beauty. She hasn’t looked at me, but that’s okay. I’ll soon have her alone. She kisses her mother on the cheek and pauses. “I want to talk the moment I come back.”
“Okay.” Catherine sounds distant, and I really don’t give a fuck.
Willow is quiet most of the drive, but I’m aware of how many times she glances at me. “Ask your question. I won’t hold you to anything,” I say as I signal to turn onto the road towards the airstrip.
“I don’t even think asking you why you were in prison is a question. I can think of hundreds of reasons.”
I grin at that as we pass the barrier. “Give me one.”
“Y
ou killed someone.” I glance at Willow. She’s watching me with wide eyes, but I don’t answer her.
“How did you get caught?” I park, and my intrigue with Willow keeps growing to a very dangerous level. I turn off the car and unbuckle my seat.
“That is a very unusual question to ask.” Now I turn to Willow, and she tries to hide her gaze from me. Reaching across, I touch her chin, and her whole body tenses.
“It doesn’t matter.” She drags her face away from me and undoes her belt.
“It’s not how did I get caught, but why did I get caught.”
I regain Willow’s attention; she gives me a confused look.
“I needed to get inside the prison, so I robbed a liquor store. I made sure it was a mess. I got caught and made sure my lawyer was crap. I got a week behind bars.”
“You went to prison on purpose?” Willow shifts closer, and I don’t think she’s aware of what she is doing.
“Yes. I wanted to send a personal message—no better way than to do it myself.”
She’s shaking her head in disbelief. My father had been raging over my decision.
“What was it like?”
“Getting my revenge?” I ask.
Willow shakes her head and lets out a shaky breath. “Prison?” Fear has her mouth dragging down. I think of the towel and the knife.
“If you hurt someone, I can help you.”
Willow jerks back like I slapped her, and I don’t want to play this game. If she’s in trouble, I can fix it.
“I found the towel and knife. So don’t deny it. Just tell me what happened. I’ll help you.”
“You think I hurt someone?” Why did she sound so fucking pained?
“I think someone hurt you, and you protected yourself.”
Her laugh is bitter. “Why? Good old Willow would never hurt someone first?”
“I don’t believe you would.”
She shakes her head and reaches for the door, but I grip her arm.
“Let me go, Rian.”
“I have always let you go when you needed to run, but this time, Willow, I can’t.” I wrap my hand tighter around her wrist.
“My mind won’t slow down. If you’re in trouble, I will help you.”
“Jesus Christ, Rian. I’m not in any trouble.” She glances down at my tightening fingers.
“That’s not a fucking answer.”
Her eyes widen at my tone, and I hate frightening her. I loosen my grip slightly.
“I want an answer,” I say this without growling.
Her heartbeat throbs in her neck, and she holds her head higher. “You won’t understand.”
Her cheeks redden.
“Try me.” I’m not saying try me. I’m saying tell me now.
“You’re hurting me.” She raises both brows.
My touch isn’t hard on her wrist. She glances down, and I release her.
In the most mechanical movements, Willow rolls up her cardigan. “I’ll tell you. But this is where it ends. You can’t force answers out of me.” She’s angry as she opens the buttons on her shirt and rolls up the sleeve. She turns her arm around so I can see all the white scars and the one that is bandaged.
It takes a lot to shock me, but this right here does. I’m looking into her dark empty eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that. I told you, you wouldn’t understand. Now you’ve seen it.” She tries to push the shirt back down, but I reach out and take her wrist in my hand. My fingers run across all the raised skin before I start to pick at the bandage. Willow tries to pull her arm back, and right now, I don’t care if I’m hurting her. I need to see it.
“Rian,” her voice rises, and I yank her closer. I’m careful as I pull off the bandage. The cut is raised and starts to bleed slightly.
“You’re making it bleed.”
“This is not okay,” I speak to the cut before looking up at Willow. She stops fighting me. “Stop looking at me like that. This is none of your business.” This time I allow her to take her arm back. I can’t look away as she bandages her wrist.
“Did you do it because of Chad?”
Willow fucking laughs as she fixes her shirt. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”
My fist collides with the steering wheel, the horn blares, and Willow jumps in her seat.
I hate the fear I see on her face. “This isn’t funny.” I want to grab her, but I don’t want to hurt her.
She swallows, her laughter gone. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself. It just grounds me.”
I rub my forehead. “I have no fucking clue what you are talking about.”
Her eyes swim.
“Make me understand this, Willow.”
She shrugs like this isn’t a big deal. “It just gets my emotions in check and then I’m good.”
“For how long? I mean, there are several cuts.”
“Eleven.” She says quickly.
“Does your mother know?” Willow glances away from me. “That fucking cunt.”
Willow swings back around to me, and it’s the first time I’ve seen such a strong emotion on her face. “Don’t speak about her like that. She doesn’t know. How dare you?” Her face tightens, and I sit back in my seat and try to reign in my anger and confusion.
“I want to go to work.” Willow reaches for the door and gets out. I don’t stop her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WILLOW
I stand beside the car, watching Rian as he gets out and shuts the door. My heart rate won’t slow. I’m not embarrassed that he saw my marks. I’m afraid of what he will do with that knowledge. He locks the car and stares across at me, and I hate the look I see in his eyes.
He’s already regretting ever going near me. I start to walk. Rian could have anyone he wanted. I take another peek at his side profile. No one would ever refuse him. His wide shoulders are stiff, and I want to make him look at me. I don’t blame him for the disgust I see in his eyes. My mother is right—if he really knew me, he would run. Even a man like Rian doesn’t want to be with someone who is a mess like me.
Rian opens the door, and we step into the noisy market. Everyone’s gaze shifts to us, and I feel so exposed. My legs don’t move, and Rian’s warmth penetrates my back. Leaning into him crosses my mind just to see if he would push me away.
This is what you wanted, Willow, I remind myself. I am going to choose my mother. This evening when I go home, I’m going to tell her and ask her to speak to Henry. I could no longer work here. As I start to walk through the market, Rian falls into step beside me, but no matter how many times I look at him, he doesn’t return my gaze.
My stomach twists at his rejection. I tug my sleeves down over my arms like my wounds are visible for all to see.
The movement has Rian’s eyes on me. “Are you sore?”
I shake my head and look up at him. “No.”
He quickly looks away. I clamp down on the inside of my cheek, hating how he can’t even look at me.
Blitz, his friend, is approaching us, and maybe it’s a good thing that he takes Rian away. He smiles at me, and I force one back.
“I was wondering if Willow could help me today?”
I quickly glance at Rian and shove my hands behind my back. He nods his head. I didn’t expect that. He’s letting his friend just take me. Hurt races through my system. He can’t bear to be around me.
“Could I have a word with you?” I focus on Rian. He nods at me but keeps his gaze over my head.
“I will just be a moment.” He tells Blitz, and I follow Rian.
What are you doing? I want to tell my inner voice to shut up as I follow Rian through a steel door along the side of the building. We enter a room that has rows of steel shelves, all stacked with boxes. The lighting here is dim.
“What is it?” Rian’s voice makes me regret my decision to want to be alone with him.
I can’t bear his rejection. The disgust I keep seeing in his eyes is piercing me. I don’t think but act. I step into his space and reach u
p, pressing a kiss to his bottom lip. Rian doesn’t react, and I grip his face, dragging him closer to me. I continue to kiss him, and finally, he responds. I’m airborne, and my legs respond, wrapping themselves around his waist. My back is pressed against a shelf as Rian devours my lips. He still wants me. I’m tugging at his jacket, and he helps me get it off him. I want to touch his skin, his shirt is next, and I take a moment and break the kiss just to stare at him. He’s chiseled, and I think to myself, of course he is. My gaze roams across his wide shoulders, and my stomach squirms when I meet his moss-green eyes. My backside rests on a shelf, and I love the feel of Rian’s hard cock pushing against my core. He takes my face gently and places the softest kiss on my lips.
“What are we doing?”
I shake my head. “No questions.” I lean in, keeping my eyes open and press my lips against his. He responds by capturing my bottom lip. His hands work quickly, pulling off my cardigan. My shirt takes both of us to take off because I have so many buttons. The air kisses my flushed skin, and I have to sit still as Rian drinks me in. He makes me feel beautiful when I look back into his eyes that swim with pure lust. His lips move across mine, and I push myself harder against him. When he moans into my mouth, it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. My fingers roam along the band of his trousers. I dip two fingers under and love how his muscles bunch together everywhere my fingers touch. Rian’s large hand grips a hand full of my hair as he tilts my neck, giving himself more access to my mouth. His tongue enters and it’s my turn to groan. Dampness pools between my legs and I grind myself against his shaft.
His lips leave my mouth and make a burning pathway along my neck. My fingers keep moving along the band of his trousers and finally the want wins out and I unbutton his trousers. Rian is breathless as he grips my face and makes me look at him.
“No questions,” I quickly say before he ruins it.
He’s breathing heavily as he stares down at me. I’m terrified that he is going to stop and I’ll never experience this. I am giving myself this one time with him.
