Briar Valley: The Complete Duet

13. Willow

CHAPTER 13

WILLOW

BURY ME - FRIDAY PILOTS CLUB

Anxiously bouncing on my feet, I wrap a scarf around my neck, glancing in the mirror that hangs in Lola’s hallway. The bruising on my face has faded to a mottled green and yellow in the last few days. It hurts less to touch now.

Inky bruises still stain the skin under my hollow eyes, but overall, I’m looking a lot better. Running my fingers over my black hair, I study the long length with a clinging sense of hatred. I always hated it like this.

Mr Sanchez never let me cut it. I’d secretly trim the ends, but he liked a good headful of hair to wrench as he dragged me through shadowed halls. It makes me sick now. He’s still in control, no matter the miles between us.

Quickly braiding it to the side, I turn my back on my reflection and startle. Lola is standing at the bottom of the stairs, silently watching me without saying a word.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me leaving her behind?” I repeat for the tenth time.

“Willow, I can look after my own great-granddaughter.”

“I know, it’s just that we’ve never been separated before.”

“It’s safer for her here, until we know where we stand,” she says firmly. “Go and take my credit card. Get everything you need and use those boys’ muscles to your advantage.”

“I’m not taking your money. I have cash.”

“You will take my card and use it. This isn’t up for discussion. No family of mine is going to use blood money to put clothes on their backs.”

My stomach bottoms out. “Blood money?”

“I’m a patient woman.” She gifts me a loaded look. “You’re going to have to trust me sometime and tell me why you’re here. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I… I know that.”

“Then sit down and tell me the truth.”

She’s straying dangerously close to my secrets, and I need to throw her off the scent. Lola isn’t the kind of person to let evil exist in the world unchallenged. I’m scared of what she’d do if she knew the truth.

“It isn’t safe. I have to think about your safety too.”

“What’s so dangerous about some real estate agent? What don’t I know?”

A loud ringing in my ears drowns everything else out. Head spinning, I bend down to lace my leather boots, turning the cuffs of my jeans up several times to fit better.

“Where did you get that information?” I force an even voice.

“If you’re going to use my computer, you should clear the search history. I’m not trying to snoop, but I’m your grandmother.”

I bite my lip, holding back a curse. This is exactly what I was worried about when I agreed to stay in Briar Valley. I want to belong here, but I refuse to endanger anyone else.

“Let me in, Willow,” she pleads.

Backtracking to put more space between us, a thousand escape routes zip through my mind. Arianna is in the kitchen, preparing for a day of baking. She would never forgive me if I put her in Killian’s truck and drove away from the first home she’s ever had.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

I watch Lola’s face fall.

“One day, I hope that you’ll trust me,” she begs. “I’m here to listen.”

“It isn’t a matter of trust, believe me. I’ve got to go.”

Grabbing my coat, I flee the cabin before she pushes any further. A faded red truck is idling outside for me. Inside, two solid lumps of muscle watch me descend the porch steps. I race over and climb inside as Zach finishes puffing on a cigarette.

“Morning, guys.”

Zach shoots me a wink, flicking the stub aside. “Good morning, babe. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Killian nods in greeting, his blonde hair loose and tangled as it hangs over his shoulders today. He seems preoccupied, contemplating the thick coverage of pine trees ahead of us that part to reveal the dirt track out of the valley.

Throwing the truck into gear once I’ve buckled myself in, he takes off in a spray of wet mud and fallen leaves. Zach turns the radio up, chattering in the background. I tune him out, preoccupied by our surroundings.

Seeing the forest in the cold light of day, I realise how insane I was to attempt it on foot, let alone the mountain road that leads down into the valley. We pull onto rocky terrain, lined with heavy boulders marking our route back up into the world.

Once we reach the top of the bumpy path stretching into the heavens, I gasp at the undisturbed view of the surrounding countryside. It’s nothing like Mexico, home of the relentless heat and sand as far as the eye can see.

I prefer the luscious grass, countless spindly trees and the scent of fresh rainfall across the mountains. The cold wind on my skin and the mist in the air are my favourite things about our new life. Each morning feels like being reborn, over and over again.

“Where are we headed?”

“I need to drop Micah’s deliveries off in Highbridge.” Zach rolls down the window to light another cigarette. “If you don’t mind small shops, it’s a good place to start,”

“If you need anything bigger, we’ll have to head into the city,” Killian chips in moodily. “It’s another hour away on top of that.”

“No, I don’t want to be that far from Arianna. Maybe another time.”

“You’d love it there,” Zach replies.

“If she likes stupid people, tons of traffic and jumped-up assholes selling shitty life insurance policies,” Killian mutters darkly. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Ignore his complaining.” Zach smirks at me. “Killian isn’t a city boy. He prefers to live in the dark ages.”

“You can walk back up the mountain, kid.”

“Try it. I’ll tell on you to Lola.”

Killian snorts. “We both know I’m her favourite anyway.”

“That is so not true! You’re full of shit.”

“Ask her yourself. She’ll tell you as much.”

“Maybe I will,” Zach threatens.

Letting my eyes slide shut, I tune out their arguing and enjoy the ride. Even on the bumpy path, Killian’s huge truck absorbs much of the friction. I’ve heard it was a custom job that Ryder helped him with to haul lumber and supplies back up the mountain.

We pull into Highbridge a long hour later. The rural, picturesque countryside town looks exactly as I remember. Stone cottages and tiny shops line the quiet street, along with lamp posts and swinging baskets filled with fresh flowers.

When we first arrived here after hours of travelling north, I was dead on my feet. I can hardly recall walking around the town, fishing for information from locals milling about. It’s miraculous that we made it at all.

Perhaps fate was on our side.

I find that comforting, somehow.

Locating a tight parking space off the main street, Killian groans as he manoeuvres the truck into it, complaining the whole time about being back in civilisation. Zach finishes his third cigarette and claps his hands together as the engine cuts out.

“Let me drop off Micah’s crap and we’ll go find some shops.”

Lifting a massive plastic crate bursting with wrapped parcels from the bed of the truck, Zach heads for the nearby post office, situated beneath a bright-red overhang and more flower baskets.

Opening my door, I hesitate when Killian walks around the truck and offers me a hand. He’s dressed in his usual flannel shirt and jeans, though these ones are cleaner than his usual pair. I eye his hand with doubt, and he stifles a scoff.

“Lola’s right, Willow. You have to trust us sometime.”

“What? How do you know she said that?”

“We talk. She’s family to me too, you know.”

“I don’t like you all gossiping behind my back.”

Reluctantly taking his hand, I let him help me down from the truck. Killian peers around, assessing for danger, before throwing an arm around my shoulders. I freeze for a second, forcing myself to breathe and relax.

His familiar musky scent clings to his shirt. He smells so good, like raw bonfire embers and the freshness of pine trees blended into an intoxicating fragrance. I feel tiny next to his staggering height, and I’m not exactly small.

“We weren’t gossiping,” he adds.

“What would you call it then?”

He searches my face and frowns like usual. “She cares about you. I’m not going to get all emotional and shit. All I know is that we want you to be safe.”

A strand of tangled blonde hair falls across his naturally bronzed face. With the warmth of his body heat pouring into me, I reach up to swipe it aside. Killian inhales sharply, his eyes dropping to my lips for a split second.

“Why?”

“Why not?” he growls back.

“I’m a stranger. You said that yourself.”

He’s still staring at my mouth, his eyes burning with heat.

“You’re not a stranger,” he almost purrs.

Highbridge fades around us, disappearing into insignificance. All I can feel is the sensual weight of his eyes on me, demanding something I don’t know how to give. Even his touch is electric, causing bolts of excitement to race up my spine.

“I thought I had to protect Briar Valley from you,” Killian murmurs, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. “But I forgot to protect myself.”

Warmth unfurls in my lower belly, curling around my nerve endings and magnetising me closer to him. All I want is to be engulfed in his embrace, protected from every last threat the world has to offer.

“Why do you need to protect yourself?” I ask softly.

His hand lifts, the backs of his knuckles stroking over my cheekbone. When his thumb meets my lips and strokes over them, tracing every last inch, I almost melt into a puddle.

“Because I don’t trust the way you’re making me feel,” he admits. “And I can’t afford to let anyone else fuck up our family any more than it already is.”

“I would never dream of hurting your family.”

“You might not intend to. That doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”

Then his touch is gone, leaving me cold and bereft. The bubble of anticipation encapsulating us bursts with each step he takes away from me. By the time Zach returns, Killian has turned his back completely and I’m holding back tears.

“Uh, am I interrupting?” Zach blurts.

Without a word, Killian storms off towards the high street, causing pedestrians to leap out of his way in fright. Zach takes his place and throws an arm around me.

“What was that all about?”

“Beats me,” I answer. “Your cousin confuses me so much.”

“Honestly, same. I still don’t understand him.”

Letting Zach steer me after Killian’s furious steps, I push my anger aside. It shouldn’t hurt to be disregarded by Killian, yet somehow, it does. I wasn’t sure what to expect from him, but that little performance wasn’t it.

Guiding me into a cute shop, Zach stretches out his hands to gesture around.

“Have at it.”

I look around the well-stocked space. It’s full of children’s clothing in all manner of garish colours, including a great deal of pink. Arianna would love it in here. She’s a real unicorns, rainbows and glitter kind of girl.

“Need help picking stuff?” Zach asks.

“You know much about girls’ clothing?”

“I’m a fast learner.”

Giving him a basic list of clothing and Arianna’s sizes, I watch him head for the nearest employee, plastering a charming smile on his face. Those damned adorable dimples are back out. My hands clench into fists by my sides before I realise what I’m doing.

The thump of footsteps betrays Killian’s presence before he halts at my side, his carefully blank facial expression back in place. Whoever the man that touched me so reverently outside was, he’s long gone back into his hiding place.

“I got a basket.” Killian spares me a look. “Why the long face?”

Is he serious right now?

“Nothing. Let’s get this over and done with.”

“Willow, wait.”

A lump gathered in my throat, I peer up at his overwhelming height. An almost indecipherable emotion flits through his eyes before it dissipates, swallowed again by darkness. I can’t decide if I want to kiss him or punch his lights out.

“Yeah?” I hum impatiently.

Killian falters. “About what I said.”

“What about it?”

Waiting for an apology that doesn’t come, I watch him deliberate for several excruciating seconds before I give up and abandon him among the clothing. He’s literally incapable of vulnerability. Part of me feels sad for him.

I’ve lost a lot of people in my life. Family. Friends. Myself, even. But I never want to allow that grief to consume me or take away my ability to connect with others.

Then, I’ll be the monster in my own story. What’s there left to fight for if that happens?

Throwing myself into the task, within half an hour I have several baskets full of clothing. Long-sleeved t-shirts, leggings, two pairs of jeans, a couple of floaty dresses and skirts in every shade of pink and yellow.

Arianna even has a new coat for the rainy weather, pyjamas covered in tiny little giraffes, and an extra pair of shoes. Zach has excelled himself. It will cost pretty much my whole budget, but I can’t wait to see the look on her face.

Finding Killian standing at the checkout counter, I catch him shoving a giant stuffed elephant into a plastic bag. He clears his throat when he sees me, caught red-handed.

“There’s a new family coming. They have nothing.”

“How is that possible?” I wonder.

“The two kids didn’t come to the country with any toys. They were fleeing a warzone.” Killian’s visible rage could cut down whole armies with a single glance. “Every kid should have a toy.”

And that right there is exactly what’s so infuriating about this man. He’s riddled with contradictions—caring and kind, hateful and possessive. Cold in one instant and fuelled by the fires of passion in the next. His entire presence is dizzying.

Killian packs the rest of my clothing into several bags before flourishing a shiny bank card. I attempt to grab it from his hands, but he’s so much taller than me and holds it out of reach, until I’m jumping up and down like a lunatic.

“Stop it! You’re not paying for this. I won’t let you.”

“Lola already gave me the funds.” He cuts off my protests. “She knew you wouldn’t touch her credit card. This isn’t up for discussion.”

“I have my own money.”

“Well, it’s no good here.”

“Killian!” I bark at him.

All he can do is offer me a smug grin, far too satisfied with my inability to snatch the card from his hands. He swipes it so fast, the payment is done and dusted before I can mount another attack.

Sneaking up on us, two firm hands land on my hips, tugging me back against a wide-set chest. The possessiveness of the move steals my breath, even though I can smell Zach’s familiar tropical scent from behind me.

Fear races down my spine faster than my mind can catch up with. Zach looks startled as I extricate myself from his embrace, needing space between us. My internalised defences can’t tell the difference between him and my memories right now.

“Babe? You good?”

“I’ll be outside,” I croak.

Fleeing the shop before they can ask questions, I escape into the alleyway down the side of the building and collapse against the brick wall. Shouting echoes in my head, growing louder by the second.

You will do as you’re told, Mrs Sanchez.

You and that little brat live under my roof.

Break the rules, and there will be punishment.

I still remember the day Mr Sanchez found out I was pregnant. He was always careful to use protection, treating me as more of an impersonal transaction than a human being, even as he defiled and broke the most private parts of me.

After a few too many drinks and an unsuccessful business meeting, he had come home full of rage. I was still weak in those days before I had Arianna and found the strength to fight back for her sake. He didn’t even have to restrain me.

I let him shove me into the dining room table as he ripped my dress down the back, grabbing me hard between the legs. I could hardly breathe with his weight pinning me to the table, trapping me in his toxic orbit as he forced himself inside of me.

Let me hear that beautiful screaming, wife.

Beg for mercy.

I can’t hear you.

I laid broken on the floor after he stalked off, unable to even attempt to move. His men outside heard everything that happened. I heard them laughing and trading jokes after as I sobbed and begged for death.

One month later, the pregnancy test I convinced one of the housekeepers to purchase for me came back as positive and my entire life changed in an instant. The subsequent beating still makes my bones ache; the memories are so raw.

Distantly, I can hear someone calling my name. Hands slide under my legs as the press of hard muscles wraps around me. Panting between clenched teeth, I force my eyes open, terrified that I’ll find one of Mr Sanchez’s bodyguards here to take me away.

Killian is crouched in front of me, his choreographed numbness nowhere in sight. In fact, he looks horrified by the sharp, agonised rasps of my lungs attempting to suck in air.

“That’s it, baby,” Killian coaxes. “Breathe.”

Underneath me, Zach holds me tight in his lap. “Take some deep breaths.”

I lurch to the side, overcome by a sudden rush of nausea. Throwing up the entire contents of my stomach, I narrowly miss Killian’s mud-caked boots. When I’m done heaving, my throat is shredded raw.

I can’t hold my tears back any longer. I don’t have the strength. It’s all too much. We’re supposed to be free. Why can’t I get him out of my head? It’s like my monstrous husband has followed us across the continent by hiding in the depths of my mind.

It takes an age for the grip of anxiety to finally release me. My breathing slowly evens out, and I’m left utterly spent. My mouth still burns with the acidic taste of vomit, while a light sheen of sweat covers my face and neck.

“I’m so sorry,” Zach says helplessly.

“Please… don’t touch me like that again.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Struggling to my feet, I leave his lap and brush myself off. I can’t look at him, even though it wasn’t his fault. Every instinct inside of me is screaming that I should run away from these men and their lack of boundaries.

“Let us take you home.” Killian watches me closely. “We can come back another time to do the rest of the shopping.”

My mouth is fuzzy and disgusting, but I shake my head. I’m not that person anymore, unable to protect herself or her baby girl. I’m a woman now. A survivor. I’m no longer Mr Sanchez’s broken ballerina, forever twirling in her broken music box.

“No. I want to do what we came here for.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Zach worries as he stands.

Cutting them both a fierce look, I straighten my clothes. “I refuse to live in fear. Now, take me to the women’s clothes shop and keep your hands to yourselves, okay?”

They hang back after me, keeping their distance as I storm past. Secretly, I don’t want them to stay away. Far from it. But that’s exactly why I need them to stop breaking down my defences with each gentle smile and tight embrace.

I’m terrified of the way they make my heart race, even when Killian’s doing his utmost to piss me off. This fear is far stronger than what I felt when Mr Sanchez prowled towards me, his erection straining against his trousers.

I knew that monster. His evil was familiar and, in many ways, I could handle it for that reason. My mind was prepared for his torture, shoring up its defences and building safe escape routes for me to slip into when the pain became too much.

What I can’t handle is their love. Affection. People caring about me and wanting to get close enough to really hurt me. That’s what these men are doing, day by day. And even if a traitorous part of me wants to, I absolutely cannot fall for them.

I won’t survive it.

And neither will they.