Latvis Security Services

by Lexie Ray

  Mads had kept training Brahms as his own responsibility. And he never hesitated to play with the dog, despite the massive amount of hair that ended up on the legs of his expensive suits. What Willow e had thought was just an attempt to keep her out of his house might have been visiting. She closed her eyes against her own stupidity when she recalled how, after hearing that she was buying Brahms generic kibble, Mads had started supplying her monthly with large tubs of homemade meals. The damn dog ate better cuts of meat that she did.

  “Willow?” he asked with a trace of concern.

  “Sorry, just thinking. Sophie is taking care of him.”

  “Good,” he mumbled.

  He shoved the side of his face hard into the pillow. It was a sure sign that he had been hit with another wave of nausea. So it surprised her when he whispered that he was hungry.

  “I can get you something.”

  He curled instantly around her like a child being told to give up its favourite toy. It made her chuckle and she kissed the top of his head without thought.

  “How about I order a pizza?” she smiled.

  A dubious noise rose from him.

  “The grease will do you some good,” Willow insisted, only for him to make the same noise again. “I can ask them to put gold leaf on it if you want.”

  The groan turned into something remarkably similar to a growl.

  “And I won’t have to get out of bed to order it.”

  This time he remained silent. That was the closest Mads was ever going to get to excitement over store bought pizza.

  ***

  The pizza was horrible. Oily, with plastic-like cheese and a crust that crunched like cardboard. But, and Mads would go to his grave before admitting it, in this instance it seemed like the best thing that had ever hit his tastebuds. Surely when the alcohol was at last purged from his system he would amend that. He certainly hoped that he did.

  Reluctant to leave the confines of his room, he had insisted that they eat there. The snow had thickened. It now fell in heavy sheets from gray clouds that blackened the sky. Because of his refusing to open his curtains and let reality encroach into his refuge, the room was cast into deep shadows. Lights didn’t seem like a good idea, so Mads had started a fire in his fireplace. It cast out a soft, golden glow and helped to keep the winter wind at bay. Still, the bed had been too alluring to pass up and they had decided to have their so- called picnic there.

  Willow had one of his cashmere throws around her shoulders and often took to rubbing her cheek against the soft material. They ate in comfortable silence. Mads marveled at the sensation. Not the silence. In most company he preferred it. The second he had been bestowed his noble title, people became intent on filling every possible ounce of silence with inane chatter. It wouldn’t have been so bad if they hadn’t expect him to listen, let alone respond. Willow had learned at an amazing speed when to simply leave him to his thoughts.

  What astonished him at this moment was that he didn’t see her presence as an invasion. Mads was territorial by his very nature. He always had been. Of course, life had made it necessary that he learn to tolerate certain people within his space. But this allowance had only made him far more protective of the areas that he could keep to himself. He had lived within this house for five years and, despite the movers who had helped him to arrange his belongings, not another soul had stepped across the threshold.

  But here Willow was, having spent unknown hours with his room, his bed, his clothes, and he was completely at ease. It wasn’t an entirely new sensation, Willow often had a calming effect upon him, but that was before she had trespassed somewhere so personal. Mads had worried that his ease would change when he became sober. Instead, however, he only grew content.

  He must have been lost in his thoughts for quite some time because, when he refocused on the world around him, Willow had finished her pizza and had taken to reading something off of her phone. She must have sensed his attention because she glanced up at him.

  “Are you ready to talk about it?”

  Mads selected another slice. It had somehow grown more disgusting and delicious as it cooled.

  “Spring weddings are too common. I would prefer a winter one. There is something romantic about a one horse open sleigh and, with any luck, the harsher weather would keep unwanted guests from arriving.”

  He took an unhurried bite as she chuckled.

  “You’re actually going to commit to a drunken declaration, huh?” she teased.

  “It seems the gentlemanly thing to do,” he said, determined not to be the first one to break from this strange little game they were playing. “Especially since I deflowered you.”

  She sucked air in through her teeth and winced. “Sorry to break it to you, but I was already deflowered.”

  “There is no need to inform my great aunt about that.”

  Her abrupt laughter made him look back up. “And here I was going to use that as an icebreaker.”

  “Then it is quite fortunate that we covered that now.”

  “You’re going to have the same problem with my daddy.”

  He cocked an eyebrow and repeated with amusement. “Daddy?”

  “I’m a southern belle, Mads. ‘Daddy’ is now, and forever well be, the only appropriate way to refer to my father.”

  Mads’ brow furrowed. “I thought you were raised in California.”

  She shrugged dismissively and picked up one of the few remaining pizza slices. “I spent my teenage years there with my cousins. I kind of got too much for my parents to handle when I hit puberty.”

  “I cannot imagine you being difficult.”

  “You’ve never tried to enforce a curfew,” she said as she picked at the olives. “Or keep me from going down Martha Creek Road with Johnny Kane.”

  “How scandalous,” he smiled. “I hope that the young man was worth the relocation.”

  “He really wasn’t. Way too much tongue and not enough sense to use it right.”

  For the first time that he had ever heard it, the shadow of a Georgian accent drifted around her words. Popping another olive into her mouth, she hummed and stared off into space.

  “Though he was really pretty.”

  “Was he?”

  “Had an ass you’d climb over your granny for.”

  Mads shook his head, trying and failing to keep himself from smiling.

  “I am starting to feel jealous.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, your ass is quite pleasant.”

  “And here I thought you preferred my hands.”

  The words were out before he could consider whether or not this was information he was ready to part with. He had noticed her appreciation for his hands growing as of late. It was flattering, and he quite liked being able to provoke a certain amount of desire within her. He had never dared to mention his observation before, fearing that she would endeavor to change her behaviour.

  Mads glanced at her from under his lashes. Frozen in place, her eyes slightly larger than normal, Willow stared at a space just beyond his right shoulder. She recovered quickly and took a bite of her pizza with carefully constructed ease.

  “How long have you known?”

  “About two months,” he confessed softly.

  She smiled. “You’re getting pretty oblivious.”

  He straightened, his brow furrowing. “How long have you had this attraction?”

  “Oh, no. It’s so much more fun to leave you wondering. It’s going to drive you nuts.” Her smile wavered for a second. “Are you okay with this?”

  “Yes.”

  A hint of embarrassment tainted the air between them. It felt like some necessary balance between them had shifted into his favor and Willow didn’t like it. If left unchecked, it was sure to eat away at the easy companionship they shared. And that wasn’t something Mads was willing to permit.

  “It actually pleases me.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Does it?”

  “I feel less unwelcomed in my appreciation
for your hair.”

  “My hair?”

  “It is quite lovely.”

  “Lovely is a word you’d use to describe a doll.”

  “Alluring, then. Although I will protest that my attraction is hardly my fault. The general disarray does allude to time recently spent in … scandalous activity. I am hardly to blame if my mind followed that to a logical conclusion.”

  With her eyes locked on the crumpled bedsheets, Willow laughed, her cheeks tinting a fine shade of pink. Shaking her head, she pulled a hand over her hair and met his gaze again.

  “Well played.”

  “I am sure I do not know what you mean.”

  “You completely distracted me from the original question.”

  Mads’ easy smile fell and he closed the pizza box. “It was an ambiguous question.”

  “You knew full well what I was asking.” Her voice was stern, and he knew she wasn’t going to let him dodge the issue any longer. “You can’t keep letting him do this to you.”

  “I am in control of the situation.”

  “No, you’re not,” she snapped as Mads left the bed to place the pizza box at the door, too tired to take it down to the kitchen at this point. She refused to take the hint that he wanted the conversation to end. Now. “You keep forgetting that I’ve been up against Jeffery Gilliam too. Any time you think you’ve got the upper hand, it’s because he wants you to felt that way.”

  “I think I can fare better.”

  She bristled at that. “Because you’re smarter?”

  “Because I am in no way attracted to him.”

  Silence settled between them instantly. It was like roaring static, filling its head and reigniting Mads’ headache with a vengeance. Willow’s eyes narrowed.

  “That’s a low blow, Mads.” Her voice cut him like jagged glass. “Want to rethink it?”

  “I merely meant to remind you that Gilliam gains his power over people by manipulating their desires for an intimate and physical connection. It was a tactic that allowed him to form his cult, if you remember.”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  Her voice was still hard, but she didn’t look away as he approached the bed.

  “But you should remember that he doesn’t just use his own allure to mess with people. He’s giving you the promise of answers to lure you in. Even if he has the answers you need, Mads, he’s never going to tell you.”

  “He has photographs of my mother. Ones taken after her abduction.”

  “All that means is that he had photographs, Mads. He gets bags of mail each week. Anyone could have sent him those for just this reason. To get you to focus on this and ignore everything else.”

  Mads sneered. “To what possible end?”

  “Off the top of my head? I’d put my bets on the numerous deranged and violent people whose lives you have destroyed. You remember what you do, right? You get between a stalker and his victim, becoming the focus of a lot of rage. You have, what, at least five years’ worth of people who have grudges against you?”

  Mads arranged his face into an unreadable mask. It was clear that Willow knew he was a few moments away from shutting her out altogether. But still she pressed on, keeping her voice sharp and stern in an obvious attempt to get him to bend to her thinking.

  “Or how about the people victimizing the people who have asked you for help? Most of these people are cowards, but they’re not idiots. How many of them do you think are willing to test themselves against a team of highly trained soldiers turned bodyguards? The best way for them to win is to make sure you won’t fight. And it’s working.”

  Mads felt his anger flare and he rushed a few steps towards her before he caught himself. Keeping his breathing measured and deep, he locked his eyes onto hers.

  “I have not neglected any of my duties,” he snarled. “My team still operates effectively and Gwen has proven herself to be a fine addition. After years of exposure to vile people and their horrendous acts, trudging endlessly through the revolting sludge of humanity, assured only in the knowledge that I will forever encounter deepening levels of sadistic depravity, am I not entitled to a reprieve? Can I not break the surface of this hell for a few miserable days? Am I to drown to maintain your opinion of me?”

  “My opinion of you doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me.” It took the full weight of his control to keep any emotion from his face. To conceal his surprise at realizing just how deeply he desired her to think well of him. “So speak it now.”

  Her hackles rose visibly at the demand.

  “There are few people who could live up to the standard you set.”

  Mads could say nothing, his mind torn. Half of him believed that she had intended to flatter him. The other half was sure she had just insulted him. The only thing that both sides could agree on was that she had deliberately crafted the sentence to be confusing.

  “Despite your best efforts,” Willow said in a softer tone. “There are people who care about you. People who are worried.”

  “I am perfectly fine.”

  “And I’m scared.”

  Mads jolted at the confession. Willow was not a woman easily intimidated or disturbed. While she cultivated the image of a sweet-natured and kindly woman, he had never seen her shy away from any kind of fight. On the few occasions he had been able to test her limits, she had always easily kept right by his side, step for step, never hesitating or cowering.

  “I’m terrified you’re going to let him destroy you, just like I let him. It’s like you’ve got your legs dangling over the edge of a cliff and Jeffery’s telling you that you’ll be able to touch the ground if you just let go, and you’re listening to him, Mads. You’re listening to him and not the people trying to pull you back.”

  Even as he held tight to the comfort of his anger, he couldn’t help the ache he felt to hear her sounding so lost.

  “I can pull myself back,” Mads assured her softly

  “Yeah. I had said the same thing. It hurts like a bitch when you hit the rocks.”

  The pang within his chest forced Mads to take another step towards her. His fingertips itched with the need for contact, allowing his fingers to unfurl as his arm lifted on its own accord. Willow didn’t pull away from the promise of his touch. She held his eyes, a sorrowful smile wavering across her lips, and tilted her head slight towards his hovering palm.

  Suddenly, the loud melody of the doorbell crashed into the silence they had created. The moment, complete with its unprecedented control over Mads, suddenly shattered. He could almost feel the shards of it toppling around them, leaving him to unmerciful reality. His hand stilled. Words lodged in his throat, dying before he had a chance to explore what they were.

  It was something beyond his control, a natural habit that had been cultivated over too many years for him to easily set it aside, and his defenses settled back into place with a near-audible clack. It left Willow on the outside of his fortress, untouchable, while he was safely concealed within. Turning on his heel, he left the room without a glance behind.

  Chapter Five

  For all its comforts, Willow suddenly felt very awkward. Being in Mads’ bedroom with a recovering Mads was more than enough distraction to forget that she was actually in his bed. The body-warm blankets and the unbelievably soft mattress called to her, tempting her to simply lie down and wait for Mads to return. Or maybe just sleep. Her limbs were beautifully heavy and lax. The fire had chased away the bitter chill, making the room the perfect temperature to crawl under the blankets.

  The window was still open, allow the sounds of the sleepy city to waft into the room. Willow was surprised to see how clearly she could make out the unfolding conversation nearby, not all of the words, but most definitely the tone. Mads had opened the door and didn’t seem at all pleased at who was there. He struggled valiantly to keep his voice civil but the fact was that, he had yet to invite the guest into his house. Then, Dwayne’s booming voice rolled like thunder and Willow found herself smiling.<
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  She always enjoyed watching Dwayne and Mads interact. There were times when Willow was sure, in some weird but functional way, Mads was quite happy to play the surrogate father role he’d been assigned. It was a dynamic that she found endlessly enjoyable.

  Not wanting to miss it, Willow scrambled off the bed. A curse left her mouth as her feet touched the ice slab that was currently serving as the floor. She hopped to Mads’ dresser in search of socks. She found them quickly, but there was still plenty of time for her to grow a certain amount of resentment for Mads. He just had just stood there with his cold, bare feet pressed against this arctic-worthy floor, and hadn’t even flinched.

  She snatched up the thickest pair of wool socks that she could find and hurried to the door. It wasn’t until she stepped out into the hallway that she realized how much of a world they had created onto their own. Without heavy curtains or open windows, the hallway was bright and pleasantly heated. The décor that had appeared elegant but cozy within the confines of Mads’ room now seemed as sterile as a museum.

  Even as the heating system thawed her, Willow slipped on the socks and hurried to the stairs. Halfway down them, she was able to spot the front door and the people there. Dwayne’s massive bulk took up most of the threshold, both in width and height. She smiled in bewilderment when she spotted Andrea Chin, Dwayne’s girlfriend. She was a fashion designer and was far more sophisticated than Dwayne in just about every respect. How Dwayne had managed to convince her to allow him to carry her around, draped over his shoulders like a living scarf, Willow had no idea.

  The other guest, the one Mads was taking care to keep from entering, was a stranger. The woman looked elegant and polished in a long winter coat and fashionable pumps that would take some skill to walk in in this weather. Snowflakes dusted over her styled, chestnut hair. The cold had made her cheeks rosy, but not enough to ruin her carefully tended makeup.