by Vi Carter
He would have raped her if she hadn’t fought back. I spread my torn hand across the tiles of the shower and hiss as the pain runs down my arm. I press harder until blood oozes from the cuts. I stop when the pain becomes unbearable.
Once dressed, I wrap my hand and put my rings back on. They have gotten their blood quota for the year.
Leaving my room, I do something I’ve never done before. I seek out Willow. I need to make sure she’s okay. I need to see the mark on her face. I need to see the horror in her eyes, so I know killing Chad was worth it.
Her bedroom door is open, which isn’t something I’ve seen before. I don’t enter but stuff my hands carefully in my pocket as I stand on the threshold. She’s sitting on her bed. Her hair is still down, but she’s back in her gray cardigan and dark trousers.
“How are you?”
She doesn’t startle at my voice. She doesn’t look up at me either. “I’m fine, Rian.”
She’s anything but fine. I’m staring at her floor, I’m tempted to step into her room, but for the first time, I’m unsure. She doesn’t need to feel unsafe in her own space. I won’t take that from her.
“If you want to talk. I’m here.”
She finally looks up at me, and her eyes give me the confirmation I’m seeking. Chad deserved every punch and kick I gave to him.
“Talk about what?”
I won’t force her, and she knows it. “Anything, Willow. Anything at all.”
Her brown eyes waver, and I think she just might speak to me as she stands up. The mark on her face isn't as stark, and the closer she gets, I can see why. She’s covered her face in makeup. “I’m fine, Rian.” She repeats her words carefully as she walks towards the door. Her hand grips the wood, and she holds her head higher. She’s shutting me out. I want to reach out and stop her from closing the door, but I don’t.
“Goodnight.” She doesn’t meet my eye as she closes her bedroom door.
“Night, Willow.” I step away and remove my aching hands from the pockets. My white bandage has turned red again. My head swims with the violence that I had thought left my system but hasn’t. I know Chad’s friends are alive, and I’m tempted to go back and finish each one of them off.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WILLOW
I don’t sleep that night. I’m haunted by the memory of the flickering lights that the Donald Duck cartoon flashed across the white walls of our sitting room. I was ten, such a young age to most, but I was far beyond my years. My mother used to say “that I was out before,” I saw the world differently. I saw too much darkness and very little light.
Climbing out of the bed, I try to banish the green couch’s image with its small buttons. The image alters and twists until blood coats most of the fabric and the white walls. I can still taste the fear that came with the giddiness that day. It was all twisted up in one, and I had laughed.
I straighten my bed now and get dressed before applying another layer of makeup to my face. The red mark looks stark in the morning light, and it takes a few minutes before the worst is covered up. Letting my hair fall in front of my face, I brace myself for what this morning will bring. My mother hadn’t come up to my room. I had left the door open and waited for her to seek me out, but she hadn’t. Instead, Rian had. My stomach twists now at the image of him standing at my bedroom door. His hair had still been damp from a recent shower, and all I could think about, was him naked. The thoughts were wrong, and I had to close him out. Sometimes he was too much, for too many reasons.
Noise in the kitchen has me pausing at the door and adjusting my armor. I smile and step in. My mother smiles back, and that allows me to breathe a little. I’m aware of Rian sitting at the end of the table. His gaze weighs heavily on me, and I want to look at him, but I don’t.
“Good morning.” I take the cup of green tea from my mother.
“Good night?” My mother’s eyes shine with an interest that she hasn’t displayed before. I sit down and remind myself that I can do this.
“Yeah, I had fun.”
The joy on my mother’s face makes the lie worth it.
“I think I may have made a friend.”
“Brittany? Rian told me she dropped you home.”
That’s why she hadn’t come looking for me. I glance at Rian, and his eyes roam over my face like he’s looking for something.
I nod and look back to my mother before taking a sip of my tea. “Yeah. She’s so nice.”
My mother pats my arm. “I’m so happy.” She goes to the counter, and I focus on the sound of the knife hitting the glass chopping board as she cuts up my breakfast.
I take a peek at Rian. He’s still watching me. My stomach tightens. His bottom lip is larger than the top, his tongue flicks out slightly, and my heart jumps. He knows I’m staring at his mouth. I look away as Henry enters the room.
Before he speaks, I see it in his eyes. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.
“Willow, there is a detective here who wants to speak with you.” The tea sloshes over my hand, driving me out of the chair.
“Dear God. Get your hand under the water.” My mother takes the mug from me and ushers me to the sink. The surrounding sound is muffled and I pull out of her tight grip. She stares at me, and I know I need to keep it together. I push my hand under the cold stream of water and allow it to ground me.
“Did he say why?” My mother is trying to sound like she has no clue why a detective would be looking for me. I knew this day would come.
Taking my hand out of the stream of water, I turn to Henry.
“He didn’t say.”
“Where is he?” I try to smile.
“I let him wait in the front sitting-room.”
My mother places her hand on my shoulder like she might be able to stop this. “I’m fine, Mother.” I step away from her hand and into the hall. There is relief in ending this nightmare, yet fear has my legs wobbling. Heavy footsteps behind me have me turning.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re not going in there on your own.”
“You’re not coming in with me,” I say to Rian. A new fear grips me. He’s going to know what I am.
He gets distracted and reaches out, touching my hair. “Yes, I am.”
I pull away from him, wanting to demand why he is doing this, but it is his home. I can’t exactly stop him. My feet move and stop outside the sitting-room door. The heat of Rian behind me isn’t a comfort. I spin around and push a hand against his chest. His heart beats firmly under my splayed fingers. I focus on my fingers and not on his heavy green eyes.
“Please. Just give me a moment alone.” I’m frowning as I try not to cry. I didn’t want him to know what I was.
When he doesn’t answer, I glance up at him. My heart bounces around in my chest. Being this close to Rian has me letting my guard down.
“One minute.”
I don’t pause but remove my hand from his chest and step into the sitting room.
The detective rises. He has his blond hair parted down the center and brushed neatly on either side. He walks to me and offers me his hand with a crooked smile on his face. His blue eyes are soft; he doesn’t look like a man who works in this line of work. He reminds me of a priest, he has that look that draws you in and makes you feel safe.
“Willow, I’m detective Lacy.”
I place my hand in his. His handshake is firm and quick.
He reaches in and takes a small black notepad out of his jacket pocket. I sit down on one of the salmon colored couches across from him.
“You have a beautiful home.” His words are kind, and once again, I think of a priest. Maybe that’s the vibe he wants to give off, so I will spill all my sins at his feet.
“Thank you.” I sit up straight and cross my legs. My heart has returned to a normal rhythm, and the fear I felt only seconds ago is gone.
“Chad Michaels was attacked last night. He’s in a coma.”
Bile claws its way up my throat. I’d hit
him twice with the pool balls. Oh, God, had I damaged his brain. I’m not sure if I’m breathing. “That’s terrible,” I manage to say, and my voice comes out steady. The door opens, and Rian steps in. He literally gave me one minute.
The detective rises again. Rian holds up his hand. “Sit down.”
Lacy does, and it’s funny the control Rian has over people.
“Rian, I only need a minute with your sister.”
I cringe at the word sister but hope it doesn’t show.
“By all means, take as long as you want.” Rian sits down beside me, and I want to tell him to leave, but because this isn’t about my past, I feel steadier.
“It’s okay, Detective Lacy, I don’t mind him staying.” I don’t want this to be dragged out.
Lacy returns to his notepad. “I interviewed a few people at the party, and they said you fought with Chad.” The door opens again, and my mother and Henry step in.
Why not?
My mother steps up to Detective Lacy with an outstretched hand, and he rises, taking it.
“What is this about?” My mother’s voice sounds distressed.
“One of the party-goers last night was attacked. He’s in a coma.”
My mother steps away from Detective Lacy. “It was the party your daughter attended.”
“My daughter wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
My chest tightens, and my skin erupts in goosebumps. More lies. When will it stop? “I didn’t argue with him. We liked each other.” All eyes turn to me, and I force a shy smile.
I give my mother an apologetic look before looking back at Detective Lacy. “Ask anyone who was there. We had a drink, a bit of a talk, and we went down into the basement for a game of pool—you know the rest.”
“So, you never fought?” He’s watching me intensely, so is everyone in the room.
“Well, initially, I turned him down, that may have looked like a fight. It depends on where you were standing, and how intoxicated you were.”
His smile is quick as he closes the notepad. “And you were drinking too?”
“No. I don’t drink.”
My mother slowly sits down.
“Ever?” Why did it always surprise people that I didn’t drink?
“I don't see how that is relevant.” Rian’s voice is filled with irritation.
Detective Lacy raises a brow. “I suppose it isn’t. Where were you last night?”
My stomach somersaults.
“With me,” Henry speaks up.
“All night?” Detective Lacy asks.
“Yes. He never left my side.”
Lacy nods and places the notepad in his pocket. He stands up. “Well, thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch.” He steps up to me and takes a card from his pocket. His eyes are kind again. or maybe it’s a trick of the light. “If you remember anything else, please ring me.”
I take the card and give him a brief smile. “Thank you.”
“Let’s hope Chad pulls through, and he can tell us who did this horrible crime.”
Rian steps close to him like there is a challenge in his words. “Yeah. So you can stop harassing innocent girls.”
There is nothing innocent about me. I had hit Chad with the pool balls. I must have caused some kind of brain damage. I try to focus on the rug as I stand. I can’t break, not now. Not in front of everyone.
Henry moves past Rian and walks the detective out the door before it gets any way heated. I know my mother is glaring at me. One rule, no boys and I had lied about breaking it. But I needed to stick to that lie for now.
“I’m sorry, mother,” I say the moment the door closes. Rian is still in the room, but right now, I need to fix this.
“I told you to keep away from boys. Now look what it has brought upon us.”
“It was a kiss,” I whisper the pained words. A stolen kiss. “I just wanted to fit in and be normal.” My voice grows small because a part of that is the truth. I had wanted to fit in so badly that I had gone down into a basement with him.
“How can I trust you?” The look in her eyes tears at me. I’ve seen that look before and the room starts to spin.
“You can’t.” My words are only for her. Why would she trust someone like me?
Her anger dissolves like a tablet in water, and I’m in her arms. “Don’t say that.” Her words are harsh as she presses a kiss to my head.
“It was a kiss,” she repeats. “Just one kiss.” She kisses my head again, and I need to get out. I’m choking on her panic.
“I’m fine.” I wriggle out of her hold as Henry arrives back in.
“Do I need to contact a lawyer?” Henry’s words have my stomach twisting.
“Of course not. My daughter isn’t…” My mother’s angry words trail off—my gaze darts to Rian, who watches me.
“No, Henry, that isn’t necessary. Unless kissing a boy is a crime?” I force a smile.
He half laughs. “No, it’s not, Willow.”
“Are you ready for work?” I’m nearly out the door at Rian’s words. I have never wanted to get out of a room as bad as I do right now.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WILLOW
The car is too small. I roll down the window and the air that lifts my hair, refuses to fill my lungs. Closing my eyes, I bite my lip to try to stop the tremble. It’s in these moments that I want to be ten again. I want to go back to that time and change it.
The car slows. I can taste the dust as Rian drives along the dirt road and slows down. I know we aren’t at work, but I don’t care.
The car grows silent under us, and I’m so aware of Rian. His smell circles me, and it’s like a window is opened as the air trickles into my lungs, and I take a deep breath. The sound returns, and I open my eyes. Warm hands grip my face, and I’m staring into green eyes.
“Take a breath.” His steady words have me taking a lung full of air. I can’t stop taking in every single detail of Rian’s face. His straight, long nose and heavy eyes are captivating. He’s frowning, and I don’t want him to. Reaching up, I touch between his brows, and his face relaxes. I want to touch him more. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want Rian. I know it’s wrong. Everything about us is wrong. Taking in another lungful of air, I trail my fingers down his face, and he closes his eyes briefly before opening them again.
His tongue flicks out and wets his large bottom lip. I know what it feels like to kiss him. It’s the earth shifting under your feet. It’s the tilt of a room before you pass out. It’s other-worldly.
That’s Rian.
“Take another breath.” His fingers tighten on my face, and I’m shifting closer as I inhale him. I feel drunk on the fumes of my past. It’s slowly crawling up my legs and I’m waiting for it to suffocate me.
“I hurt that boy.” The words explode from my lips. No tears come like I thought might with my confession.
“I hit him twice in the head with the pool balls.”
Rian continues to hold my face, his thumbs stroke my temple. My core tightens, and I try to stay here and now and not fantasize about Rian’s hands on me.
“That’s not the worst part.”
He doesn’t flinch. His head has moved closer. I didn’t see him move, but I’m sure his breath is fanning more on my face than before—it’s warm and a comfort to me.
I know I need to stop. He’s going to see what I am if I continue, but I need to say something. I need to say something real for just once.
“I don’t feel bad. I don’t have any remorse for hurting him.” My heart quickens when Rian doesn’t respond. “I’d do it again.”
Excitement sends my temperature rising. There, I said it.
“Good.”
That isn’t the response I expected. “Rian, I put that boy in a coma.”
He needs to see who he has his hands on.
He’s holding me. His eyes flicker to my lips, and I hold still as his warm mouth presses down on mine.
It’s like the edge of a jagged bottle on my soul. I want to pour mysel
f into him. I grip his broad shoulders, and my core tightens. I want to break all the rules. I want to feel. His hands leave my face and the heat of his fingers rolls down my neck.
“Fuck me.” I breathe the words into his mouth, and his whole body freezes.
I don’t want to open my eyes; I don’t want this to end. I don’t need to be dragged back down to earth.
Rian’s hands move down to my waist, and I open my eyes. His gaze swirls with a want I’ve never seen before. I feel shy now. I’ve never done it before, but I want to. I refuse to take my words back.
“If you don’t, I’m sure I can find someone else.” I’m ready to pull away.
His hands tighten on my waist. “Willow.” He growls my name and my panties grow damp. My heart beats wildly, invigorated in the moment.
“Fuck me,” I say it louder and slam a hand against his chest. I want him to hear me. I want him to do as I say. “You keep saying you want to fuck me. So here is your chance.”
He licks his lips, and I don’t know what’s holding him back—panic dances at the edge of my vision like a vulture.
I slam my mouth down on his, overwhelmed with the desperation I’m feeling, and Rian responds to my kiss with a force that sends me back in my seat. He’s over me, and excitement has my blood bubbling as he adjusts the seat so it’s fully back.
He’s hovering over me. “You didn’t put Chad in a coma. I did. Honestly, I thought I had killed him, but obviously not.” This is Rian. He has no remorse.
Just like you. A voice whispers in my head.
“Now, I’m going to fuck you, but I need you to be sure because I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with just one taste of you, Willow.” He leans his body closer. His cock pushes against me, and the air catches in my throat. “If I take you, I won’t give you up. You’re mine.”
“You hurt Chad?” That’s what comes out of my mouth, yet all I can think about is that I will be his.
“He hurt you. I know what he did. I know how they all stood around as he put his hands on you.”