by Vi Carter
I’m aware of a door opening, rushed footsteps that pause. I close my eyes and inhale Rian.
“So, I take it you don’t like green apples.” His voice doesn’t hold the humor that his words are meant to carry.
Bile rises up my throat, and I have to choke it back down. My heart beats madly. I don’t want him to see me like this.
His footsteps are heavy until he reaches me. I open my eyes as he kneels down. “You have to talk to me, Willow. Let me help you.”
I glance at him, and the adrenaline in me spikes at the idea of sharing my burden with someone—at having a friend.
I’m so alone.
“Maybe you could–just this once–walk away and pretend you don’t see me,” I say the useless words.
Rian raises both eyebrows. “I always see you, Willow.”
The image of the red lunch box fills my mind, and I fear it’s going to break it–that is, if my mind isn’t broken already.
“Margie gave me a green apple.” The words slip from my lips as I rise and dust off my hands. “Her nails were black, the smell off her clothes turned my stomach.” I’m staring at the asphalt as I let the image of Margie’s dirty hands consume me, until I can’t see the red lunch box anymore. The walls that had been slowly closing in, push back out allowing me to breathe. “I didn’t want to be rude, I didn’t want to refuse, so, I took the apple.” I glance at Rian and his moss-green eyes are focused on me, drinking up each word I say, so I decide to keep feeding them to him.
“She was watching me, waiting for me to take a bite, and I didn’t want to. So I took the apple out here…” I point to the smashed piece of fruit.
A muscle works in Rian’s jaw, and I’m ready and waiting for him to call me out on my lie, but he doesn’t.
“I’m going to take you home.”
Confusion has me rising. “Am I fired?”
I don’t want to be. The mere thought of being trapped in the house again, has a tremble enter my bones.
“No.” Rian rises and holds out his hand for me to take. I don’t accept. We walk back to the car. I’ve never wanted to run away from myself as badly as I do right now. I didn’t want to be around Rian. He was turning me into a mess, yet the thoughts of being completely alone had me considering asking him to take me to the garden. But I don’t. I need this between us to end. I need to find my control. I need the numbness back that he had stolen from me.
I glance at Rian. He appears so massive sitting in the driver’s seat. His fingers are long, and I tighten my thighs at the memory of them inside me. One of his hands is bandaged, and I don’t ask how it happened. I’m sure the person he went up against is either dead or faring far worse. No one gets the upper hand with Rian.
“Don’t you ever get sick of the violence?” I ask.
“Don’t you ever get sick of pretending?” His jaw is tight as he speaks.
I’m used to Rian smirking at me, but this irritation, I’m not used to. I don’t answer him but stare out the window.
“I like hurting people.”
I look back at Rian.
“I’m good at it.”
I frown at his words. “I’m sure you’re good at other stuff.”
His jaw relaxes a fraction. “I’m good at a lot of things.” His grin has heat pouring through me.
We don’t talk after that. The drive home feels too short and I’m a mixture of sadness and confusion.
Once Rian turns off the engine, I get out of the car. The lights are on in the garage. There are three other cars parked in here. Two of my mother’s, and one is Henry’s. My mother doesn’t let me drive. She doesn’t feel I’m ready yet.
Rian gets out and steps into my path, blocking me from entering the kitchen. He towers over me and I have to crane my neck to meet his gaze.
He doesn’t speak but takes a step closer. His gaze moves down to my lips, and I know this is dangerous. His hand reaches out and he touches my hair. He rubs it like it’s some magical force. His gaze flickers up to mine and my stomach hollows out. Blood rushes to my ears.
Rian’s mouth curves into a smile. His gaze flashes over my face before landing on my mouth again. My heart is threatening to leap from my throat when the garage door opens.
“Willow?” My mother’s voice has everything in me growing still. Do we look like we are doing anything? He’s too close. I step away from Rian and bump into his car.
“Everything okay, Rian?” My mother takes the three steps into the garage. I stand up straight as Rian turns to face my mother. I still can’t see her.
“No, it’s not.” His voice is heavy with an accusation. I step away from the car and around Rian. My mother’s skin is growing pale and worry filters through my system.
“What’s wrong?” My mother’s brown gaze bounces between me and Rian. I want to tell him to stop this, but I can’t seem to move from my frozen state.
“I don’t like you moving furniture around in the front sitting-room. I like that room just as it is.”
Relief swims in my mother’s eyes and that scares me more than anything. If I can see it, so can Rian.
“You looked worried there, Catherine. Like I had caught you in some big lie.”
“I don’t think your father would appreciate your bullying tactics.” My mother looks past Rian. “Let’s go, Willow.”
“She’s not a dog, Catherine.” Rian’s voice is cruel, and I feel like I’m dreaming. He’s never spoken like this before, and I don’t know what to do.
“Now, Willow!” The bark of my mother’s voice has me moving. I don’t look at Rian as I pass him.
My mother’s spine is rod straight with anger. I follow my mother up to my room.
“Mother..”
“Don‘t!” She barks as we climb the stairs.
She enters my room and holds the door open for me to come in. I’ve had the sensation of being under water since my mother stepped into the garage. The muffled sounds erupt back into focus as she closes my bedroom door.
“You're beautiful. I see that now. I see how he looks at you.” My mother’s words aren’t a compliment. “I see how you look at him.”
I’m shaking my head. Bile claws up my throat. “He’s my step-brother.” I can’t hold my mother’s gaze as disgust has me almost expelling the meager contents of my stomach.
“We can’t choose who we fall for.” My mother takes my face in her hands, making me look at her. There is a smile on her face that has my lips trembling. “I know that. But what happens when you get too close? What happens when the cracks start to show?” She releases my face. “What happens when he sees the real you?” She walks over to my nightstand. “Maybe someone like him would accept you.” She opens the drawer and removes my phone. “Maybe.” She says turning to me. I see the strain around her eyes. “Or maybe he won’t.” She steps closer to me and I fold my hands in front of me. “I’ve built a life for us here. I don’t ask for much.”
The image of my mother wavers and the air dries up in the room.
“Don’t cry.”
My tears obey and dry up.
“You have a choice to make, Willow.”
I open my mouth to tell her I choose her, of course, but she holds up a hand.
“Don’t tell me now. Think about it and give me your answer later.”
I can’t look away from the black device in her hands.
“Do you want this?”
She holds it out and a pain erupts in my belly. It’s odd, it’s only a phone, but it felt like a doorway to maybe something that could help me. Now I see it’s a tool that tells my mother I’m betraying her.
“No.”
She nods with a small amount of approval and satisfaction and leaves my room. I’m staring at the mirror across from me and all I see is an evil little girl who terrifies her mother with her secrets.
A scream lodges itself in my throat and I want to release it. Bending at the waist, I grip my knees and try to take in some air.
I need her to know that I�
�m sorry. I’m spinning, running from the room when I collide with a solid chest.
“What’s wrong?” Rian’s voice is as heavy as his hands that steady me.
It’s all his fault. Taunting me. Always touching me.
I shove him away. “Don’t touch me.” My voice rises and it startles me. I clamp a hand across my mouth and storm back into my room. I close the door, but his foot stops it from closing and he’s forcing his way in.
“Get out!” I try to keep the panic at bay.
“Shhh.” He’s locking the door.
I can’t stop shaking my head. My mother. My mother. My mother.
“Get out.” I run and slam both hands into his chest. “Get out, now.” My hand connects with his face and he grabs both my arms, pinning them to my side before he drags me against his chest.
I can’t move. I can’t breathe. “What are you doing?”
I try to break free, but he holds me with a firmer grip. It’s his warmth, it’s his hard chest. It’s his smell. I’m becoming familiar with him. It’s all too much. The wall that has held everything in gives way, and the first tear falls. My body shakes, and I crumble into his arms. Rian releases my arms and picks me up off the floor, holding me to his chest as I cry my heart out on his shirt.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WILLOW
My chest tightens, and I swear it’s going to cave in and crush my soul. No peace comes with the onslaught of tears, and Rian holds me tighter to his chest, making the stream of tears grow faster.
“You have to go.” I sob out, and he shushes me.
I struggle against his chest. I need him to put me down. Rian’s hold grows heavier, and we move lower as he sits on my bed, holding me against him like I might disappear. His heart thrashes against my ear.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” Rian’s voice is deep, and it brings me to the surface of my pain. This time when I lean out, he gives me some space instead of crushing me to his chest.
“You have to go,” I whisper, as salty tears fill my mouth. My tongue flicks out and licks the substance from my lips.
“Did she hurt you?”
My heart deflates at his words, I can’t hold Rian’s eyes. She’s not the monster, I am. I’m shaking my head. A weakness has entered my system and I used the last of my energy to scramble out of Rian’s arms. He releases me but still sits on my bed.
“Please leave.”
He rises and towers over me. My stomach hollows out and a sharp pain erupts deep in my belly.
“You don’t make this easy.” He takes a step towards me. I hate how my bones quiver. All I want to do is step closer, but I hold steady as he closes the distance between us.
His large hands grasp my face, and his thumbs rub away all the falling tears before he leans in. His minty breath fans across my face. I close my eyes as Rian’s mouth moves over my lips. He pushes his body closer to me and I stand on the tips of my toes, my hands automatically wrapping around his shoulders.
The kiss changes far too quickly and he’s devouring me and all my agony. I forgot for just a moment how he can make my head spin when he kisses me, and how it feels like I’m levitating. It’s never enough. He’s too much.
I sink into the bed and my body is rippling with the feel of his on it. His cock prods heavily against me and I automatically spread my legs, allowing him to move closer. I moan into his mouth. His hands still hold my face steady as his tongue frantically enters my mouth, like he might not get to taste me again. His large thigh presses against my pussy, and I don’t want to come undone so easily, but the sensation between my legs is almost painful in its intensity.
His hands leave my face and everywhere they touch, I come even more alive. My body throbs for him, and I know why my mother never allowed me to be intimate with anyone. It made me feel too deeply, and right now I was knee deep in pain, lust and darkness. I’m scrambling once again off Rian. My heart beats wildly as I scan the room and try to even out my breathing. I’m trying to grasp for control. My armor is placed on my chest with shaky hands, but it liquifies off me and pools around my feet as Rian approaches me. He appears as breathless as I am. Holding up my hands, he stops walking.
“I need you to leave.” I swallow and shake my head before looking at him again.
His nostrils flared, and he flashes me a warning. “Willow.”
“No, Rian. This is lust, that’s all. I’ve never had these interactions with anyone, that’s why I want them…” I need to add—with you—but can’t.
His moss-green eyes grow darker, and I know I’m being cruel.
“I don’t want to be with you. I want you to leave my room, now.” I fold my arms across my chest, stopping the impulse that courses through me to step up to him and beg him to ignore me. This pull that I have towards Rian is dangerous, and I need to end it. I need to choose my mother. I bite the inside of my cheek until my mouth fills with a metallic taste.
“It didn’t seem like you didn’t want to be with me a moment ago.” His shoulders tense and his jaw clenches. Fear skitters up my spine. I know he would never hurt me, but that doesn’t stop a new fear from taking root and blossoming deep in my belly. I know what Rian is capable of.
He has no idea what you are capable of.
Warmth spreads through my hands and I wipe them along my trousers. “Get. Out,” I say each word carefully. I’m falling, and I’m waiting to collide with something that will smash me. Blood roars in my ears as Rian takes another step towards me. His brows are furrowed. He looks terrifyingly dangerous—like a viper ready to strike.
“You still owe me a fuck.” His words are delivered with a cruelty that has never been bestowed upon me by him before.
Anger flares inside me, and I wrap my hands behind my back so I don’t strike him. “Fuck you.”
His laugh is heavy with anger, and some part of me wants to stop this. I’m drawing a battle line with Rian, and it’s a war I won’t win. I try to soften my features and exhale a shaky breath.
“Please. Rian.” I’m not beyond begging.
“Please what?”
I can’t hold his gaze, it’s too hateful right now. “Fine.” I walk away from him and reach for the door handle. Warm and surprisingly gentle hands wrap around my arm. Rian’s breath brushes the back of my neck.
“I’ll leave this time, but I told you once before…” his voice is a whisper, and I close my eyes against the shiver that erupts across my skin, “You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go, Willow.” His warmth is gone and the door opens as Rian leaves my room. My knees threaten to buckle. I’m determined to end this agony inside me. I fix my hair and wash my face before leaving my room.
Entering the kitchen, a calmness washes over me. I’m giddy as I check to make sure it’s empty. The counters have recently been wiped down. The smell of disinfectant is heavy in the air. The knives rustle in the drawer as I drag it open. Checking over my shoulder to make sure I’m still alone, I take one out and stuff it in the waistband of my trousers. I hiss as it nicks the skin. I don’t examine anything but relish in the burn across my flesh, it’s like an old friend, one I love and hate.
Leaving the kitchen, I make it to my bedroom without seeing anyone. Locking my door, I remove my cardigan and lay it neatly on the bed before doing the same with my shirt. The knife continues to slice into my flesh. Each burn has me clamping down on the inside of my cheek. Once I’m in my bra, I enter my bathroom. I release the blood that pools in my mouth down the sink. I refuse to meet my eyes in the mirror. It’s none of her business, anyway.
Removing the knife, I wrap my hand around the hilt. I have no inclination to end my life. I have no desire for that. Turning my left arm around, so my palm is face-up, I count the ten scars that saved me from losing control. I don’t look at them and feel these were my lowest moments. These were my strongest! I did what needed to be done, just like I need to do now. I press the blade heavily on my skin, watch the flesh part, and blood rush down my arm. It’s a beautiful kind of pain as I clo
se my eyes and sink to the floor. It’s so red, and I love this moment. It’s so close to being euphoric. I’m floating and free with bliss. Slowly the pain starts to register, and I drop the knife. My mind starts to speed up with all I need to do. I need to clean and return the knife before it’s noticed. No, I'll get rid of the knife. I need to bandage my wound and clean up. I need to find my mother and tell her I choose her. With a new found purpose, I give myself one more moment watching the red liquid flow from my arm. I need to stop it before I grow too weak. Grabbing a towel, I push against the wound and cringe as it turns pink. I’ll have to get rid of it.
After wrapping my arm and putting on fresh clothes, I feel more like Willow. The one thing that is bothering me is the towel. I wrap it and the knife in another towel and put it against my back, using my shirt and cardigan as a harness against it. I’m careful with my steps as I leave my room and make my way downstairs. I think about entering Rian’s domain and dumping the towel there—I’m sure he has plenty soaked in blood. The idea of his bedroom springs to mind, and I grip my damaged arm and squeeze the thought away.
“Willow.” I turn slowly and smile at the man in front of me. His large frame would intimidate anyone. He pushes black glasses up on his nose.
“Have you seen Rian?” He asks, folding huge arms across his chest. The movement strains the dark blue material of his jumper.
“I can’t say I have.” I let the lie fall from my lips. I had no idea where he was now, and I didn’t want to bump into him.
“Okay.” He hesitates and I see a question on his lips, so I turn away before he can ask me anything else. I walk carefully, making sure the towel doesn’t shift. I’ve packaged it perfectly, I remind myself.
Outside the air is cool against my skin and I dispose of both towels, while moving rubbish on top of them so they are well hidden.
“What are you doing?” The same anger is still in Rian’s voice. I close the lid on the trash can before turning to Rian.