"Okay, then there is a compromise. No high-profile members, you go to a place of my choosing, you have a curfew, and only one friend from Australia. Oh, and you don't tell her anything about who you are and what you're doing here."
"I don't like it, but I guess it sounds fair enough," I answer, keeping a straight face until he leaves the room. Then, I take just a little moment to do my own victory dance. I get to have a birthday party.
***
We have been here less than an hour, and I have already lost count of my drinks. But you know what? I don't actually give a fuck. It's my birthday, and I'll party as hard as I damn well want to. And it seems like Duncan is just letting me do that. He is not hovering and neither are the other men that I know he must have here. I know that he's not just going to leave me so unprotected. But I don't know where they are or what they're doing. They are not hovering or stopping me from doing whatever it is I want, including getting on the dance floor with all these chicks that are here with me. And they know how to party.
It's hard not to tell my friend the truth. I know she knows something has to be up because it turns out that she's the one who's been running my pastry shop in my stead. Someone did provide for that someway. Not that I think it's all about me, and it may be for appearance purposes, but I appreciate it just the same.
I sit at the bar and order a drink, and I turn to see that Duncan is now right next to me. "Don't tell me you're going to be a Negative Nancy now." I turn back to my new drink and begin to sip through the straw that’s in it.
He shakes his head at me and smiles. "No, I just came over here to see how you were feeling. If you're enjoying your birthday."
I pat him on the shoulders as I wobble, trying to stand up next to the bar stool. “Oh, how sweet, Duncan. It's my freaking birthday, and I'm having a lot of bloody fun actually, so don't ruin it! " I call out to him, hearing a chuckle from him as I head back to the dance floor. I know if I don't get out there, I'm going to be dragged there. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
I dance to song after song, and I can barely feel my legs. I'm afraid of the time that we're going to have to go. I know we have a curfew, and I have no idea what damn time it is. But I don't want this to end, it's the most normal I felt in a long while now.
But I am soon broken out of my thoughts and my buzz by shouting and gunfire. Faster than I can get dizzy enough to fall on the floor, I find myself in the arms of a big man, luckily Duncan, as I kick and scream on my way out the side door. This club was supposed to be safe. That's why Duncan chose it. A surprise considering I’m never safe. That has been made crystal clear to me now.
We weave in and out of alleys and such until he finally sets me down and lets me walk on my own. We weave through all the different shops, clubs, restaurants, and bars in this downtown area. He's making sure I get far away from the action. But I can't help but wonder what's happened to the rest of the women.
I stop and refuse to move, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why the hell did you get me out and didn't even think twice about any of them? What if something happened to them?"
"I'm not having this fight with you right now; you are too buzzed to fight with me right now. And in too much danger. I need to get you out of here safely." Duncan glares at me, and I know if I don't move soon, he will put me back up over a shoulder. I care whether I live or die, but I just want an answer. I stomp my foot like a child before he speaks again. "None of the rest of the women are Clan leaders; that is the reason why I got you out. You're my job, you are more important whether you like it or not."
"Well, you haven't changed at all." The voice echoes down the alley, and I look to see a face that I cannot compute right now in my tipsy state.
Duncan pulls his gun on the man in the white suit, but I can only stare, frozen. “How are you alive?" The question is aimed directly at the man standing in front of us, Felix, the boyfriend of mine that died. White is fitting considering as far as I am concerned, he is a ghost.
"Happy birthday, Willow,” Felix says to me. I'm simply stuck in place and in complete shock at the fact that he could still be alive. He should be dead. I saw him die. I don’t understand what's going on here.
"Seriously put your gun down. Don't shoot,” I tell Duncan, but he doesn’t oblige.
“With all due respect, Willow, no." Duncan doesn't even look at me when he says it. "I think he may be with the Italians. Who is this guy?"
"He's my ex. He's supposed to be dead. Seriously, how are you not dead? How did you survive? You better give us some answers because I don't think he's going to put his gun down. He will likely shoot you. C’mon, Felix." I'm begging him at this point. I have spent years thinking that I lost my mother and then immediately my boyfriend, and here he is, right in front of me, years later, looking as well as the day he was born. What the hell is this?
"Look, I promise I will tell you absolutely everything. But you're going to have to come with me. You don't have to worry about all this Clan stuff anymore. I know that you don't want it so, come with me, and we can still get married. Let me take this burden from you.” He holds out his hand to me as if I'm going to take it, and I look at it like it's got some kind of huge bug on top of it. How in the hell does he think he could show up, come back from the dead after all these years, and think that we could just pick up where we left off? I'm damn curious about how he survived. I am glad he's alive. But that's not how this works.
I shake my head slowly, but at that same moment, as if he's been prepared for it, he pulls out his own gun. Duncan stands in the way of me being shot. But I don't think that Felix intends to shoot me. I think he intends to kill Duncan. I watched the two men practically wrestle each other, trying to either shoot one another or get the gun away from the other man. Bullets fly. I'm going to have to act in a way I had hoped I would never have to.
I don't know whose it is, but I watch as a gun drops, and I run for it. Their hands are up in the air now, and I can tell that they are unsure of which one of them I'm going to shoot
"If he is with the Italians, Willow there's a good chance that the reason he wants you is to give the Italians the power. I don't know the story if the two of you, or how he supposedly died, but they want the power of the Adame Clan, and you can't give it to them. Whether I live or die here today, you cannot let them have the power," Duncan tells me.
I don't want it to be the truth, but I know that it probably is. I can't kill Felix, I can't watch him die again, but I can't let him get me or Duncan either. The next best thing is shoot him in the leg, and Duncan runs to my side.
“I will be back for you, Willow. You can count on that," is the last thing I hear as we run.
Chapter Twenty-One
Duncan
Shit. What in the actual fuck just happened? I am running, practically dragging Willow to the car right behind me. We have got to get out of here and notify the clan leaders. It is time for an emergency meeting, and I need to get Willow safely on a plane out of this city, out of the damn country, even, before any more of the Italians come for us, or come back from the fucking dead. What’s hilarious is that man was not Italian, not by a long shot. Nor was he Romanian. If anything, he was mixed white and Asian. He should not have any relation to any Clan, and on top of that, Willow said he was supposed to be dead.
Half the basis of who she is was because of the fact that she lost a boyfriend, a serious one, right after she lost her mother. The Italians certainly have learned how to pull some strings. I have learned plenty about them and the Chinese in my years with the Adame Clan, but I didn’t expect them to bring someone back from the fucking grave.
"I need to know what you know about that man, Willow. How did you meet? Did he know anything about who your father was when you were together? How can you be sure he was dead? How did he die?" The questions just fly out of me as I enter the highway at top speed, forcing those scared of my maniacal driving out of my way. It is for the best as, like I said, we are in a hurry.
; I tell the car's Bluetooth system to send out a message to the rest of the Clan. They need to know to be on alert, and I need some of them there to meet us at the airport. She needs a larger security detail as well. That will be something Ion has to help us with. It’s up to me to make sure she makes it that far.
"Are you kidding me right now, Duncan? My ex just came back from the dead and tried to kill you, and all you can do is interrogate me. As far as I knew he was a nobody, other than to me, I was in love with him. It devastated me when he died. I watched him die, Duncan. But it was a closed casket due to the damage to the body. It was supposed to be random gang activity. I guess nothing was random, or real for that matter," Willow says, and part of me feels bad for her. I know I am being a little insensitive right now, but I need information and fast if I am going to figure out enough information to get on top of this. This is something no one expects, and not even Ion will be prepared if we are going into this blind.
"I am sorry, Willow, but it’s for your safety. I need to know everything. I need you to think," I say through gritted teeth, trying not to scream. That was a close call back there that we had, and to be honest, it scared the shit out of me. The idea of losing her scared the shit out of me.
"Don’t you care about me at all? This is killing me, Duncan."
I glare at her through the rearview as my chest hurts little at her statement. I am likely overreacting. If she wanted to go with him, she would have, but there’s that insecure part I hide with my attitude that’s trying to rear its ugly head right now.
"So, I guess you would have just gone with him to marry him then, if I hadn’t been in danger?" I ask her, wanting to take it back the minute I do.
"Get a grip, Duncan, and stop making this about you," she says, and I shut down, my heart going cold for my own damn protection.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Willow
The rest of the trip to the airport is silent, and it is not until we get out of the car and are running into the building that I reach out to stop him, noticing a large stain soaking the right side of his shirt.
"Shite, Duncan, you’ve been shot," I tell him under my breath. "You need to get to the hospital. It doesn’t look good." An instant pang of guilt hits me. I feel like there is so much I could have done to prevent this from happening. I could have reacted much sooner, but instead I was too preoccupied with the fact that for a moment it felt like the love of my life had come back to me. I couldn’t have been any more wrong about that. I don’t know all the details, but I can’t imagine the fact that he faked his death right in front of me, that his family had a funeral for someone who wasn’t dead, is a good sign about his intentions with me.
“No, I will live, Willow. We have to get you on a plane and get you to the other Clans so that they can protect you and be apprised of the situation. I can’t stop just because of a little blood,” he tells me, and I scoff.
“Have you lost your bloody mind? You are not invincible, and that’s more than a little blood. I don’t know how you haven’t gone and passed out on me yet. Plus, they are never going to let you on a plane like that,” I tell hm, but the way he is looking at me, I get t. He is not coming with me, he means to send me on my merry way not knowing whether he is okay or not. No fucking way am I going to let that happen.
I shake my head, infuriated, and look around to see the men heading towards us. Not his men. My men, and it’s about time I act that way. Before they can make it to us, I take a few strides forward and address them. “Your orders are to get us to the nearest hospital,” I tell them sternly, pointing back at Duncan. “He has been shot. You will be quick, you will protect all of us, and we will be discreet about this. We can go see the Clans when we are done. I want a detail on his room where he is admitted.” I hope I didn’t sound like I didn’t know what I was talking about. I had done it on the fly, but it had to be done.
Duncan looks good and pissed off as they get him into the backseat, and I get in as well.
“You want me to get treatment, fine, but go get on a damn plane, Willow,” he tells me again.
“Last I checked, I was Domnişoară, and whatever I say goes. You do not get to order me around just because we fucked,” I tell him. He growls at me, and I can hear the other men cough and snicker under their breath. But I don’t care anymore. This is life or death. I can tell by the way his skin turns pale. He is just too stubborn to take care of himself and much too cocky to allow himself to pass out until he is on death’s door. I won’t have it. “I am not leaving here without knowing you’re okay,” I say more softly, my eyes digging into his.
He says nothing else as we make the drive, and I can’t help but reach over and place my hand over his. I can’t look at him, can’t let him see just how frightened I am right now because it has nothing to do with the fact that my ex-boyfriend and the Italian mafia wants me dead. It has to do with him now. How long are we going to keep denying what is right in front of us because of some damn rules? I get the feeling it will be a little bit longer considering we have bigger fish to fry right now.
When we get to the hospital, he is rushed into surgery. I am beside myself in a panic as the doctors keep asking me what’s happened and threatening to involve the cops. On the spot, I have to come up with some bullshit about road rage, that Duncan cut some guy off and the guy cut around beside us and shot out the tire and then shot him when he got out of the car. Then, they left. The gentleman who brought us here were bystanders who decided to be good Samaritans. What a crock of shit, but they bought it, which means I am a better liar than I thought. That is both a good and a terrible thing.
I tell one more lie; that I am his fiancé, because otherwise, they won’t give me an update, any say in his health if something goes awry, and they won’t let me see him after he’s come out.
I spend the next two hours worried sick about Duncan. I forget all about Felix, the Italians, and the Clans. Right now, I am just a girl who loves a boy whose life is in danger on an operating table. It takes everything in me not to break down and praise every deity in existence. When the doctor finally comes to tell me that he is sleeping still but that he will be okay, likely waking up soon in pain, though, my heart leaps.
They take me back into the room, and I sit beside his bed as his eyes begin to flutter in tune to the beeping of his heart monitor. I wait until he starts making a sound, and I grab his hand, no longer caring what he or others might read into it. We can go back to pretending he is nothing more than my bodyguard later if need be. For now, when he is still in this hospital, I am going to let myself feel whatever it is I have always felt about my cocky American asshole.
“Willow,” he says groggily, his eyes finally opening and that dopey grin I know so well on his face.
“You shouldn’t be smiling with all the pain you’re in, you crazy wanker,” I tell him, and he just continues to smile.
“Marry me,” he says in response, and I blink at him a few times, before glancing up at the drip they have him on.
“It’s the pain meds, Duncan. Don’t say shit like that when you’re doped up. You’ll regret it,” I tell him, shaking my head.
“It’s not the meds, Willow. It is you. Marry me, damn it,” he says again, and I can tell he isn’t shitting me. He is serious, and it hits me like a ton of bricks.
“No way are they going to let me marry an American, I protest as if I don’t want this. Every part of my body is suddenly telling me it’s everything I ever wanted, and I can’t even explain it.
“We will ask Ion when we see him.” I nod, unable to refute anything else because I NEED Ion to say yes to this. I need to say yes to this.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Duncan
In the morning they will be discharging me, and I really should get some rest. Not only do I need it in order to make it through the flight and the meetings that are on the other side of that flight, but I want to enjoy some time with my new fiancé without worrying about being too weak to do it.
/> Fiancé, man, what the fuck have I gotten myself into?
I look over at where Willow is sleeping, on the weird couch bed thing that sits on the window in this hospital room and shake my head. I don’t know whether getting her makes me the luckiest or unluckiest guy on the planet. After all, she has baggage and a whole Clan that comes with her. And I will have to face the fact that I did something against the rules when we go to Ion about this. But I believe she will be worth every bit of it. Hell, she is worth the pain of this god damn bullet in my flesh and will always be. No one can change my mind now, not even her.
I was so pissed when she ordered her men to put me in a car and take me to the hospital, and even more worried and pissed when she got in that car too. But it made me realize all the things we have been fighting and denying, and it’s fucking ridiculous. We have been playing love like a game, and it’s not. She is not her father, and neither am I, and we don’t have to live that life. She told me once he wants her to change things, that he thought she would. Marianna has already made strides, and my sassy vixen is sure to make a splash, starting with me because she deserves to be cherished, and I am the only one I am convinced can do that.
I go to close my eyes, and that’s when I hear it, a commotion from outside the doors in the hall. At first, I believe it to be a patient coding, but when I hear gunfire, and it’s getting closer, I know better.
Fuck, the Italians are here. This is the biggest reason why I didn’t want to go to the hospital; all the security in the world, and we are still sitting ducks.
I moan in pain as I force myself up and dig through my belongings til I find my glock. I pull it out on the ready as the Italians burst through the door.
Problem is, there are four of them.
And one of me.
Normally, that would not be a problem, but with the fact that I am healing from a gunshot wound, well the odds are totally not in my favor here.
Anguish Page 35
