Willow nodded her head as though she understood, but made a face as though that was far too much information.
“Oh well, that didn’t really answer your question did it?” Betty asked, slapping her hand to her forehead. “My husband’s name was Stan. He was a police officer. He was killed in the line of duty twelve years ago. That’s Jules’s father. He was a wonderful man.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Willow said, finding a million places to look except toward Betty.
“It’s all part of the plan I suppose. God never gives us more than we can handle. I know I’m right where I’m meant to be. Sitting here with you two. Is that how you feel, Willow, that you’re right where you’re meant to be?” Betty’s laser beam eyes connected with Willow’s.
“I know what you’re doing.” Willow laughed. “You are very good, I bet you get most people to open right up to you, don’t you?”
“Usually,” Betty said, raising an eyebrow. “You’ll come around. They all do.” She poured a little more juice into Willow’s glass.
A quiet knock on the door sent Betty’s back straight as she looked out to try to see who it might be.
“Is Michael back?” Willow asked, reaching anxiously for her bag.
“He don’t knock. Nobody who’s welcomed here knocks, really.” She pushed her chair back and headed for the door. Willow jumped to her feet and followed. Maybe whoever it was would give her a damn ride to the bus stop.
When she rounded the corner she felt the air escape her lungs and the blood drain from her face. Right there, standing on the other side of the screen door, was Brad. His green pinstriped oxford shirt was tucked perfectly into his pressed pleated khakis. His hair was tamed with gel and his smile at the sight of Betty approaching was convincingly innocent.
“You selling Bibles, boy?” Betty asked through the screen. Willow heard Jedda’s footsteps behind her and then heard his voice over her shoulder.
“Who is that?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“I-I know him,” Willow stuttered, pushing past Betty and out onto the porch. She closed the door behind her, indicating some privacy was in order.
“Brad, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“There some trouble here, Willow?” Betty ignored the closed door and stepped out onto the creaky floorboards on the porch, folding her arms over her chest. Willow saw Jedda standing just on the other side of the screen, peering out as he attempted to figure the scene out.
“No, Betty, no trouble. This is Brad and he was just leaving.”
“That’s not very hospitable,” Brad said, taking a seat on the porch swing, flopping down so heavily that the springs sounded like they might snap. “Aren’t you Southerners known for your warm welcomes?” he asked smugly, lounging back comfortably.
“No,” Betty said with a forced smile. “We’re known for our lax laws on shooting unwelcomed guests.”
“Feisty,” Brad grinned, pointing over at Betty as he winked at Willow. “No need to shoot me. I’m here to talk to Willow, and if she gives me what I want, I’ll be on my way.”
“And if she don’t, then I can shoot you?” Betty asked, raising a threatening eyebrow.
“Betty,” Willow said, taking in a deep breath, “would you give us just a minute? I promise he’ll be gone.”
Betty eyed the boy and bit at her lip as she decided. “I’ll be inside loading my shotgun. That ain’t an expression either. I mean that very literally. If I don’t like what I hear or see out here I won’t hesitate to use it.”
When Betty stepped through the doorway, Willow watched as she tugged Jedda into the kitchen with her.
“Brad, get out of here.”
“Shut the hell up,” Brad hissed through clenched teeth as he jumped to his feet. “Did you get my message? The assault charges were dropped. Did you really think you could go to the police and screw up my life? My dad took care of it within two days. You’re just lucky it didn’t hit the news.”
“Great. You win. So go.”
“No, you see it doesn’t work like that. You want to be a tough girl and try to screw me over, now I don’t trust you. I was willing to let you go, figuring you’d be too smart or too scared to ever try anything dumb, but now I know differently. I want your laptop. I know what you have on there and I want it.”
“No. I’m keeping it. It’s my insurance policy. If you do anything else to me, I’ll make sure that everything on it gets to the police and there won’t be a thing in the world your dad can do to get you out of that mess.” Willow’s insides were trembling. Where the courage to say this was coming from, she wasn’t sure. She knew crossing Brad was dangerous, but this was her Hail Mary move, her last stand. He needed to know she could bring him down, and she hoped that knowledge would be enough to get him to leave her alone.
“Are you stupid? Do you really think that’s how this is going to go down? You’re going to blackmail me?”
“I’m not blackmailing you. I’m telling you if you leave me alone, I’ll never do anything with it.”
“Yeah, I’m going to trust a bitch like you. Some filthy street trash that was trying to pass herself off as something better. Something I’d actually date. You made a fool of me in front of all my friends. My father was furious when he found out who you really were. Think about the shame you’re bringing to your parents. Not those dirtbags your brother killed, I mean the people who adopted you, and then this? You’re disgusting. You and your crazy ass brother belong together. I knew if I found him I’d find you,” Brad spat as he leaned over Willow and pointed down into her face. “Now give me what I came here for, or I’ll go in there and get it myself.”
“No,” Willow said, her voice cracking regardless of how hard she tried to steady herself. She felt Brad’s bear-like hands clamp down on both her biceps and his fingers pushed painfully on the bruises that hadn’t healed from last time.
“You really need me to beat the shit out of you twice?”
“Get your fucking hands off her.” Jedda barreled out the door with his fist pulled back to strike.
“Jedda,” Betty shouted as she cocked her shotgun, stepping out behind him. “I’m just as likely to shoot you before I let you lay a hand on him and end up back in jail. I’ve got this covered, you just step aside.” Betty raised the gun to her shoulder and walked straight up to Brad, placing the barrel at his ribs and digging in. “I suggest you let her go and step the hell off my porch before I spray your guts all over the place.”
“You’re a fucking psycho,” Brad hissed at Betty as he forcefully released Willow and pushed her back.
“Well hello, pot, I’m the kettle, and you’re black as coal. Now get the hell off my porch, and if I ever get a glimpse of you back here you won’t get a warning.”
Brad backed down the porch slowly and moved toward his BMW parked sideways in the driveway.
“I can get to you, Willow. I can get to you anywhere. You’re not safe here,” Brad said as he pointed a threatening finger at her.
Betty turned the barrel of her gun toward the back of the shiny car and squeezed the trigger. The pop made Willow scream and cover her ears. It was a sound she hadn’t heard since the day Jedda killed their parents. The shot peppered the back of the car, pinging against the metal and breaking the glass of the taillights.
“What the hell?” Brad yelled, ducking down and covering his head with his hands.
“I can get you, Brad. I can get you anywhere. You’re not safe here,” Betty parroted back as she rested the gun against her side.
Brad quickly surveyed the damage to the back of his car, let some more expletives escape his mouth and then fell into the front seat before slamming his foot on the gas. A spray of dirt and rock kicked up behind him as he fishtailed out of the long dirt driveway.
Willow still had her hands over her ears as she shook with fear. She wasn’t sure who was more frightening, Betty or Brad. But it made her glad that at least one of them was on her side.
“Go in
the house, you two. Call Michael and Bobby. I’ve got a feeling things are about to get exciting around here again.”
Chapter Six
The porch was once again loaded with what Jedda was beginning to consider the regulars. All of them perched in their seats staring at Willow and him. The only new guest was a four legged one. Bruno, the big German Shepard that belonged to Piper and Bobby, had come along with them tonight. Maybe for extra protection; he certainly looked capable of it. As Betty recounted the afternoon’s events, all eyes suddenly turned toward her, and Jedda considered the shift in attention a welcomed relief.
“You shot at his car?” Bobby asked, his voice octaves higher than normal as he tried to understand the situation.
“I felt the boy needed a more tactile message to drive home what I was saying. This wasn’t some bratty college kid trying to look like a tough guy. In my humble opinion he’s off his damn rocker and hell bent on causing this girl harm.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Willow shrugged, folding her arms over her chest and staring down the driveway.
“Roll up your sleeves,” Betty insisted, practically doing it herself before Willow acquiesced. The whole room gasped at the sight of dark purple bruises that dotted their way from her wrists up to her shoulders. “I haven’t checked out the rest of her, but I’m guessing it doesn’t stop there.”
“What the hell, Willow?” Bobby demanded, slamming his hand down on the small coffee table. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’m a goddamn cop. I can help you . . . Jesus.”
“Unless you’re praying over there, Bobby, let’s try not to bring the Son of God into this,” Betty warned as she took a seat next to Willow.
“There are cops up in New York, and they certainly couldn’t help me,” Willow snapped as she yanked her sleeves back down.
“And how about we don’t yell at the poor girl either, Bobby. She’s the victim here. It’s not as easy as you think to ask for help in these types of situations,” Piper said, putting her hand on Bobby’s shoulder and giving him a look to ease up.
“Right,” Jules chimed in. “Being in an abusive relationship isn’t as straight forward as you guys would like to believe.”
“Can you all stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Willow shot up and paced across the porch, looking like a wild animal in a much-too-small cage. “I’m not in an abusive relationship, and I’m not a victim. You don’t understand the situation, so please stop trying to figure this out.”
“Willow, we don’t understand the situation,” Jedda said, stepping in front of his sister and forcing her with his body to stop moving around. “So you need to tell us. Tell us so we can help you. What happened and why is he here? What does he want?”
“Why is he here?” Willow asked, her eyes flashing with anger. “He’s here because of you.” She pushed back hot tears that were threatening to stream down her face. “All these bruises are because of you.” She gestured down to her arms and then shoved Jedda backward, though he barely moved.
“Start explaining yourself now. I’ve got one priority here and that’s to make sure Jedda stays safe and out of prison. I’m not going to let you get in the way of that,” Michael, who’d been quiet up until this point, said.
Willow ignored Michael’s words and directed her answer back at her brother. “Your crusade to free yourself from prison worked out perfectly for everyone but me. I was living my life. I had friends and a school I loved. I had a boyfriend who was fast-tracked to become partner at his father’s law firm after he passed the bar. We had plans. That is until I went from being Willow, the girl with an impressive pedigree who grew up on the beach and had a bright future in music, to Willow, the orphaned sister of a murderer.”
“You told him?” Jedda asked, not grasping the depth of Willow’s anger.
“I didn’t tell him,” she shouted, running her fingers through her hair in sheer exasperation. “The news took care of that for me. Right in the middle of a dinner with a bunch of his colleagues, which was so convenient. Everyone’s phone starts chirping with breaking news and, boom, there is my face next to a story that’s more fiction than truth. Painting me as some kind of filthy, damaged, sex-trafficking victim. And just like that the life I was building crumbled. Brad and I left right away and he flew off the handle. Can you blame him?”
“Yes,” Betty, Jules, and Piper said in unison. “You bet your ass I blame him,” Betty continued. “There ain’t never a reason in the world to raise your hand to a woman. And it looks like he did a hell of a lot more than just slap you around.”
“Yes, he did. He lost it. Beat the shit out of me. And I did the right thing, the adult thing. I went to the police. I went through the degrading process of them taking pictures of my body from every angle. Measuring my bruises. I did what I was supposed to do and all for nothing because apparently his father had it thrown out and made it look as though it never happened.”
The steely tone in Michael’s voice was gone now as he stepped toward the corner of the porch where Willow had taken refuge. “There are things we can do. I don’t care who he is, we have contacts of our own and we can get the charges brought back against him.”
“Hell no.” Willow folded her arms over her chest and stared up into his face. “You don’t know what these people are capable of. I’m done.”
Piper, who was staring off into the tree line, seemed to be working something out in her head.
“Wait a second, if the charges were dropped why is he here? That doesn’t make any sense. He won, why come down here?”
“He wants something else from her,” Betty said, not looking like she gave a crap that this meant she was eavesdropping on the girl.
“You were listening to my conversation?” Willow shot angrily.
“It’s a good thing I was or I think you’d be looking at a few more bruises this evening.”
“Willow, cut the crap and tell us what he wants,” Michael demanded, letting his intolerance and annoyance return. “You’re not taking into consideration the impact this could have on your brother. If he gets mixed up in anything like this he could get tossed back in prison for even the smallest infraction.”
Willow’s eyes drew down to her shoes and she bit at her lip, looking torn by indecision. “He wants my laptop. I have some stuff on it that would incriminate him in . . . something. Something his father couldn’t get him out of. Because I went to the police he doesn’t trust me now, and he wants it back.”
“So give it to him,” Jules said pointing at the door. “Go in there and get it and give it back to him. Get rid of him.”
“That won’t get rid of him. He’s got a drug problem, and he’s not stable right now. Even if I give it to him now he’ll spin out about it eventually and think I made copies or told someone. There is no turning back at this point. That’s why I need to get on a bus and go somewhere he can’t find me.”
“You just got here, don’t you want to be here with me?” Jedda asked, like he’d just caught an arrow through the heart. “We’ve already lost so much time together. You’re going to leave school and your parents? You’re actually considering that? You can’t run away.”
“I can’t go back to school. If you knew how everyone was looking at me, you’d understand. My parents . . . they’ll be better off if I go. They never told anyone my history, what had happened to me, what you did. People will be all over them. They must be so embarrassed. I just need to go.” Willow’s lip curled and her chin quivered as the tears started to fall.
Every eye went to Piper who was fighting back her own tears now as she crossed the porch and joined Michael at Willow’s side.
“You don’t stand a chance if you leave,” Piper insisted. “I’ve been right where you are. I’ve run before. I can tell you from personal experience there isn’t a safer place in the world than right here. If you go, he will find you. Maybe not right away, but if he’s set on it, eventually he’ll get to you. And every day he doesn’t, you’ll feel like a prisoner in y
our own skin. You’ll spend more time looking over your shoulder than you do living your life. The only difference between him finding you somewhere out there rather than you staying here is out there you won’t have a cop who cares about you. No lawyer working in your corner. No brother. No friends. And most importantly, no Betty with a shotgun. There is nothing lonelier and more dangerous than walking off this porch and running.”
Jedda felt his hands ball into fists at the thought of his sister out alone in the world. The marks on her arms brought him back to those days when their parents would hurt them. He’d given up everything, changed his life forever, so Willow would never have to suffer again, but it hadn’t worked. She didn’t look happy and carefree, and she certainly didn’t seem safe. He felt an anger building inside him that was too familiar for his liking. His fierce need to protect his sister was something that had been etched into his soul and though he’d had many years to let that mark fade, it was burning hot right now.
“Where is this guy now?” Jedda asked, the blood rushing to his face.
“Jedda,” Michael said, resting his hand on his shoulder and giving him a small shake, “we’re not hunting him down. We’re going to be logical about this and come up with a solution that keeps everyone safe.”
“Look at her arms,” Jedda pleaded as he moved back toward Willow. “The damage is already done, she wasn’t safe.”
“Don’t talk about me in the third person. I’m not a child anymore. I’m not starving and helpless. I don’t need that kind of help again. I don’t want it. I want to leave here and get as far away from Brad as I possibly can until he moves on to something else or gets locked up for doing something stupid.” Willow’s hands were flailing as she spoke frantically.
“Let us help you,” Piper begged as she tried to calm Willow with a gentle touch of her hand. Bruno sidled up to them both, lending his own type of quiet support. “Let us make sure if he ever plans to put his hands on you again he has to go through everyone on this porch to do it. We’ll get a restraining order. We’ll put the police here in Edenville on notice. We’ll buy some time while we try to figure out what to do with the laptop and the information on it. These guys might be powerful, but we’ve been up against this stuff before. And you know what?”
Finding Freedom (Book 4) (Piper Anderson Series) Page 6