Briar Valley: The Complete Duet

17. Killian

CHAPTER 17

KILLIAN

WILDFIRE (ALTERNATE VERSION) - SYML

Cursing my absolute fucking stupidity, I raise my fist to knock on the bedroom door. Lola gave me a very strange look when I refused to disclose why I needed to speak to Willow, but she ordered me to find out what the hell is going on with her.

Sure.

Like it’s that easy.

Willow has locked herself away in the cabin over the weekend, pretending to be busy with party preparations for Arianna’s upcoming seventh birthday next week, and nursing a supposed migraine. It’s bullshit. Her lies aren’t even believable.

I wish I could break through her shields long enough to get her to trust me. We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks and fighting at every turn. All I want is to protect and cherish her, even if it terrifies me to admit it.

“Willow? You in there?”

Silence.

“It’s Killian. I just want to talk.”

There’s a thud of footsteps and the door handle rattles before it swings open, unveiling a very sleepy, bleary-eyed Arianna in polka dot pyjamas. She squints up at me, that stupid butterfly sculpture still pooled in her arms.

“Giant? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, peanut. Where’s your mama?”

“She’s not here.”

“What do you mean… not here?”

Arianna shrugs, padding back over to their unmade bed in her semi-asleep state. She curls up under the covers and the sound of quiet snoring restarts. It gives me a stupid sense of satisfaction to see how much the kid trusts me.

Creeping into the room as quietly as possible, I search around, finding no signs that Willow was packing or intending to leave. She must be in the valley somewhere.

Nearly tripping over a duffel bag peeking out from under the bed, I pause to unzip it, finding a few valuables hidden inside. There’s a wooden baby box full of trinkets and pictures of an infant Arianna playing in what looks like a desert.

Beneath that, I find two British passports. I flip them open and stare at the names. My earlier relief at finding her belongings in their rightful place vanishes.

Melody Tanner.

Adele Tanner.

Both Willow and Arianna’s pictures are recent, beneath the false names. The birthdates have also been tweaked too. What the fuck? These can’t be genuine. They’re damn good fakes though, probably worth a small fortune.

The memory of their burned fingerprints comes racing back to me from the mental box I’ve locked it away in, too angry to even imagine someone hurting them in such a way. Arianna’s fingers are healing nicely, the skin now pink and shiny.

I’ve been patient. Willow needed time to heal and get comfortable, I know that. Trust is earned, regardless of any blood relation between her and Lola. But I’ve wanted to pin her gorgeous body down and demand answers so many times now.

Somehow, I’ve restrained myself.

Fuck that.

I want the truth.

Finding Willow and making sure she’s okay is my priority, then I can interrogate her until I find out who I need to skin alive and bury in my fucking vegetable patch. Either way, someone’s going to pay for hurting her.

Ignoring Lola calling my name, I thump downstairs and run out into the dark night. There’s no one around. Zach went into Highbridge a few hours ago to have drinks with Ryder and his boyfriend who’s in town.

I know Micah’s back in the studio, hiding from the world. He’s been even more off than usual since his little incident in the overpass before the storm hit. No one needs to tell me that something went down with Willow. It’s fucking obvious.

Racing back to my cabin atop the steep hill overlooking the valley, I’m intent on grabbing a flashlight to search the woods in case Willow has gone for a walk and gotten lost. It happens easily enough around here.

My steps are halted by a trembling figure curled up on our hand-built porch furniture. She’s shaking all over, being hammered by the rain pouring down from the dark sky.

Her long black hair looks like spilled ink against her soaking wet skin, tinged bright-red from the cold. She’s only dressed in a vest top, oversized linen shirt and sodden blue jeans.

“Willow?” I shout out.

Her head barely lifts at the sharp bite of my voice.

“Willow! You with me?”

Thumping up the steps, I’m at her side in a flash. Sinking into the wet chair next to her, I run a hand down her arm. Willow flinches but doesn’t move, staring out into the darkness.

“Willow? Say something, baby.”

“My mother abandoned me,” she utters.

My anxiety explodes at the lifeless sound of her voice. She always speaks with such quiet but unshakeable hope. It’s one of my favourite things about her—that indisputable sense of determination that’s kept her going.

“She upped and left without a word when I was Arianna’s age. I never saw her again, and she left me alone with a neglectful drug addict.”

Fucking-fuckity-fuck.

“If I had any idea, I wouldn’t have told you.” I scrape a worried hand over my beard. “We didn’t know you existed, let alone that you were anything to do with Lola or Katie.”

“Lola lied to you, Kill. She’s been lying to us all.”

Tilting her head up, two bloodshot hazel eyes scour over me. She looks so desperately alone, it’s killing me to see it. Reaching out with healing fingertips, Willow briefly strokes my tangled beard before her hand falls back down.

“Please,” I beg her. “Come inside. I’m worried about you.”

“I thought you didn’t have emotions.”

“I fucking don’t.”

“Then why are you so mad right now?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I fight to keep my anger in check. She’s frustrating and fascinating in equal measure. All I want is to claim her as my own, every goddamn inch, but I don’t want to break her.

Willow deserves more than my worthless ass can give her. I’ve treated her with all the disdain and mistrust I could muster to conceal the truth—that I want her, as much as the other two do, even if they’re pretending otherwise.

“Kill?” she repeats.

“Just stop, Willow.”

“You can’t even answer me, can you?” she laughs bitterly.

“It’s not that.”

“Then just be honest with me for once!”

“I’m fucking angry because I care about you, alright? Because I actually like you. A lot. And I don’t want to see you in pain anymore, but I can’t seem to protect you from it.”

Locked in the icy constraints of the falling rain, neither of us makes a move. We’re trapped in the moment with no hope of rescue. It’s too late to turn back now. I’ve already dived off the cliff’s edge to my imminent death.

“What are you doing out here?” I quickly change the topic.

“I needed some space,” she admits, still looking shell-shocked at my words. “Arianna has questions, and I have no answers right now. I’m more confused than ever.”

Holding out a hand, calloused palm up in invitation, I wait for this beautiful creature to put her trust in me. Even if I should turf her back out on the street and crush these stupid feelings to keep my family safe from harm.

I know something happened with Micah. Zach too. He’s been bouncing on cloud fucking nine for days and I’m not blind. They’ve both been acting weird since she came barrelling into our lives.

That’s saying a lot, considering Micah is another species altogether on his good days and Zach has the energy of a puppy in need of constant attention. Willow is bad news for all of us.

But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to devour her with every fibre of my being. I’ve thought of nothing else ever since the day she agreed to stay in town, daring to smile and accept our offer of a real family and home.

That night sparked something inside me that I didn’t know existed and can’t turn off again. I’ve never had a real relationship. Women have come and gone out of my life without giving a flying fuck, and I was more than happy with that.

“Please come inside.”

“We don’t have to talk?” she asks.

“I’m not your damn therapist. You want a wet blanket to cry on, then you’re looking at the wrong man. Need me to shoot a motherfucker, or skin a dead deer, I’m all over it.”

I try to keep my voice cold to conceal my desperation for answers, but I know it’s futile at this point. The breathtaking smile that blossoms across her lips nearly destroys my self-control. She sees me. Fuck, it feels too good.

“Noted. No crying or talking.”

“Good.” I gesture for her to take my hand. “Let’s go find the liquor.”

Willow finally accepts. “I’ll take a double.”

Pinning her shivering body against my side, I guide her into the unlit cabin. It’s pitch black inside. I deposit Willow on the sofa and flick a couple of lights on.

“Sit down. I’ll find towels.”

I slip into the bathroom and take a second to glance in the mirror. My long hair is wet and windswept, framing a mouth pinched with frustration. This is what she does to me—drives me absolutely fucking insane with need.

Walking back out into the open-plan living room, I find the lights turned back off. The glow of freshly lit flames from the open fireplace illuminates the room instead. Willow is crouched in front of it, adding kindling to the fire.

“Here.” I toss her the towel. “Dry off.”

She catches and wraps it around her shoulders. “Thanks.”

“What’s your poison?”

“Whatever you have.”

Filling two glasses with one of my favourite bottles of whiskey, I sink down next to her on the soft fur of the rug, stretching my long legs out. Willow swigs a mouthful, coughing as the liquor slips down.

“I really hate this stuff.”

“It’s good for the soul.”

She winces. “Not my soul.”

Placing the glass down on the tiled fireplace, Willow begins to unbutton the wet linen shirt stuck to her body. I choke on a mouthful of whiskey and quickly avert my eyes.

“I have a vest underneath,” she mutters.

Unable to stop myself, I watch her wring out her wet locks, the swell of her breasts stretching the thin material of the vest top covering her chest. I don’t think she realises how fucking beautiful she is the most natural way possible.

My fingers spasm with the need to reach out and stroke her soft skin, despite everything telling me not to. One glimpse of her naked wasn’t enough. I want to worship her body at every available angle.

“How’s Micah?”

“Hiding from us,” I answer with annoyance.

“Still?”

“He goes through phases of seeming to get better, then it’s like the brakes slam on, and we have to watch him fade away all over again when another depressive episode hits.”

“These things take time, Kill.”

“I’m supposed to look after him and I’m failing.”

Her eyes dart up to mine. “It’s not that simple.”

“I tried to convince him to go back to therapy the other morning,” I find myself saying. “He told me to get lost and slammed the door in my face. Hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

I swallow another mouthful. No matter what she thinks, I can’t afford the luxury of letting Micah’s behaviour hurt my feelings. Someone has to watch over him, even when he’d rather I let him self-destruct.

Willow stares into the fire. “It was my fault he went hiking in a bad mindset. I tried to apologise a few days ago. He wouldn’t even answer the door for me.”

Driven by an overwhelming desire that’s too intense for me to quench, I slide a fingertip beneath her chin to tilt her eyes up to meet mine. Willow freezes, her lips parted.

“Why is it your fault, baby?” I drag a thumb over her bottom lip, briefly dipping inside her mouth for a second. “Did you two do something?”

“No,” she breathes.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Willow.”

Her eyes fill with pain. “We talked.”

“What else?” I stroke over her cheek, coaxing her compliance. “Tell me the truth.”

“I was upset, and he tried to comfort me. Then, it’s so stupid… but we kissed.”

Unsurprised, I stroke the pad of my thumb beneath her eye, taking care to study every part of her. The sprinkling of dimples over her cheeks. The blueish veins of her eyelids. Thick lashes framing irises perfectly blending brown and green.

“You kissed him?”

“He kissed me, but I didn’t stop it.”

“And why did you kiss him back?”

She lets out a stunted breath. “To feel something.”

Letting my knuckles brush along her jawline next, I cup her cheek in my giant paw. Without a single breath between us, the air is laden with thick, palpable tension.

Yet she doesn’t look afraid, even as I explore every inch of her so freely. She won’t admit it, but she does trust me. That gives me a ridiculous amount of pleasure.

“Tell me about Zach.”

“Kill,” she whines. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Two of the most important people in my life have had their hands all over the third. Behind my back. If I want to know the details, I’ll get them.”

Her teeth grind together. “Something did happen.”

“Have you slept together?”

“No,” she rushes out. “Not quite.”

“So, you like both of them.”

Willow hesitates before nodding shyly.

“What if I said that I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I laid eyes on you? That every single time we speak, all I can think about is dragging you to my bed and making you scream out my name for the whole valley to hear?”

I savour the way her breathing halts.

“What would you say then?” I challenge.

“Kill, trust me. You don’t want me. I’m broken.”

“Don’t say shit like that. You’re perfectly whole, even if you don’t see it.”

I’m too weak to stop the inevitable car crash ahead of us, letting my lips glide against her velvet cheek before meeting her earlobe. She shivers, but this time, it’s from pleasure.

“I’ve wanted to touch you so fucking badly for weeks now,” I whisper in her ear. “But once I do, I know that I won’t be able to stop. You should leave.”

“No,” she whispers.

“What the hell do you mean, no?”

“I’m not leaving, Kill.” Her hands wrap around my forearms. “Because no matter how every instinct is telling me to run far away from Briar Valley, I want to belong here.”

“You do?” I feel my eyebrows draw together.

“More than anything. I’d forgotten what it meant to feel happy until I came here.” She flushes, her skin tinged an innocent shade of pink. “You all reminded me.”

Slipping my fingers into her long tresses, I massage her scalp, surveying every lump and bump of her skull. I want to memorise it all. Every inch. She is the only woman that has ever meant a damn thing to me.

A contented sigh escapes her full pink lips. Willow unconsciously leans into my touch, her hand stroking up and down my arm, pulling me even closer. She can’t fight against it.

“I want you too,” she reveals. “That’s the truth.”

My entire world ends with those words. Reality breaks. My lungs seize. The cabin narrows into a snapshot, until it’s just the two of us and nothing else even exists. Despite our fractious relationship—she does want me.

Willow eases the wet towel from around her shoulders, letting the crackle of flames light her bare skin. She sweeps her hair aside, exposing the wet vest top clinging to her curves and leaving everything on display.

I can see her nipples through it, pebbled into sharp points. Sweet Lord. She’s so fucking perfect, and the best part is, she doesn’t realise it. Willow isn’t like those women who try too hard. Her otherworldly beauty is effortless.

“I need to touch you.”

“Please,” she says softly. “I trust you.”

“Good.”

Her lips are glistening and begging to be demolished. I slide an arm around her curvaceous waist, tugging her forwards until she lands in my lap. Straddling my body, she looks like a damn queen taking exactly what she wants.

I hold her to my chest, her generous tits swelling against my pectorals. The tantalising promise of body heat and sweet strawberry scent is mesmerising. If I wasn’t hard before, I sure as fuck am now.

Shifting on my lap, her eyes widen as she feels just how ready I am to be buried deep inside of her pussy. Lips parted with anticipation, Willow lets her eyes slide shut as she slants her mouth against mine.

The briefest ghost of a kiss is like a lightning bolt hitting me straight in the chest and defibrillating my dying heart. It crumbles the restraints containing the animal within me. My tongue pushes past her lips, demanding more of her obedience.

She begins to grind against me without realising. Hell, she tastes incredible. I palm the back of her head, deepening the kiss until our tongues are fighting a violent battle.

Every time she shifts against me, following a silent rhythm, my cock pulsates with need. I’ve stroked my length countless times while imagining the golden slopes of her body, but the real thing is infinitely better.

Peppering kisses down the slope of her throat, I slide my fingers under the hem of her vest top, stroking the soft swell of her belly. She gasps when I bring my lips back to hers, stealing another blistering kiss as I lift her from my lap.

“On your back,” I command.

Showing her nerves, Willow bites her lip but obeys my order, laying down in front of the fire. I grab a handful of my own rain-soaked t-shirt and rip it over my head.

Her eyes race over my chest, taking in the curls of light blonde hair and chiselled lines. I keep in good shape, more through the demands of work than on purpose. Her smile is full of anticipation and a brief glimmer of fear.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me. I would never dream of hurting you.”

“I know that,” she replies.

Nudging her jean-clad legs open, she lets me kneel between them. I loom over her body, all splayed out and breathless, kissing her lips again to reassure her.

Whatever she’s been through, it’s left her afraid. Regardless of what happened between her and Zach on the night of the storm, I still have to tread carefully. I’ve seen her get triggered and it’s a harrowing ordeal.

Slowly peeling the vest top off her, I kiss the slightly rounded slope of her stomach and every inch of skin that’s revealed. She isn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples are hardened into perfect rosy buds.

Massaging her generous mounds, I take a stiffened peak between my fingertips. Pinching lightly to taunt her, Willow squirms on the rug, silently pleading with me for more. She’s so receptive to my touch.

When I take her pink nipple into my mouth and suck, her legs squeeze on either side of me. A fine tremble is running over her with each flick of my tongue.

“God, Willow. I can’t wait to fuck you raw.”

In an instant, everything changes. She bolts upright, almost knocking me off her. Chest rising and falling in a panicked beat, a fine tremble runs over her frame.

“What is it?” I falter.

“I’m… shit. I’m sorry, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. What happened? Is it what I said?”

Willow tries to move and cover her breasts, but I grab her wrists before she can, causing her eyes to flare with anxiety. She battles against my grip, and I quickly release her again.

“I just haven’t done this before.”

“Done what?”

“You know… sex,” she mutters.

“I don’t understand. You have a kid.”

“Look, forget it. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“No, Willow. Tell me what you meant by that. You’re married, for Christ’s sake.”

“So, what? You think every marriage is happy?”

“You’re twenty-six. How is this all new? You must’ve been with men other than the scumbag you’re hiding from?”

Her expression shuts down. “Leave it, Kill.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

The look on her face is one I recognise from Micah. I’ve pushed too hard. Now, her defences are slamming down, leaving me trailing behind her with more questions than answers.

She grabs her vest top to cover her chest, already standing up. I’m seized by an unwelcome rush of panic. It invades my cells and causes my brain to misfire. If she walks away now, I won’t get another chance.

“Willow, wait?—”

“No, forget it. We’re done here.”

“Don’t run away from me,” I plead, unnerved by the emotion cracking my own voice. “Not like Micah does. Let me fix this.”

Willow hesitates, sparing me a tear-filled glance, like she’s assessing whether I’m worthy of another second of her time. I’m still on my knees but peering up at her instead.

“You’re safe with me. I would never hurt you or Arianna. Fuck, Willow. All I want is to make you both happy. Whatever this is… you can tell me, and it won’t change anything.”

“Yes, it will,” she deadpans. “You don’t know me as well as you think.”

“I know you well enough,” I almost shout in her face. “I’ve spent every day watching you since I pulled you from that ravine. You’re the first person I think of in the morning, and the last thing on my mind every night.”

Her face pales, but she doesn’t speak.

“Your eyes light up when you watch a fading sunset because it reminds you of your home in Mexico. I heard you say that you loved the sunsets there more than anything.”

“I did,” she chokes out.

“But your favourite time of day is dusk when the darkness falls, and fireflies light up the woods. You drink your coffee black, and tea with milk, but God help anyone who dares to put sugar in it.”

“Kill—”

“You think no one notices that you barely eat and wake up half the town screaming with nightmares,” I cut her off. “Your daughter is a fucking spitfire just like her mama.”

More tears spill down her cheeks.

“You’re strong enough to drag yourself up that mountain and nearly die in the process to give your daughter the chance of a better life. I’m in awe of you.”

Knee-walking closer, I take both of her hands in mine. This time, she doesn’t back away. I’m on my literal knees for the one woman in the world that I’d be vulnerable for.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” I whisper in a gruff voice.

“Enough, Kill.”

“No, it’s not. You deserve to be happy. I’m the last person who should be here with you, pouring my heart out, but I’m tired of fighting this. Don’t run, baby. Not from me.”

It feels like an eternity before she surrenders and collapses into my arms. I catch her before she falls, cradling her in my lap and savouring the sound of her shallow breathing.

I’m terrified that if I close my eyes, this will have been one of those lucid dreams that you wish were reality instead. She will be gone again, back out of reach.

“Come to bed, Willow. You need to sleep.”

“Bed?” she squeaks.

I force her to look at me. “Not like that. Let me hold you. When you wake up screaming, I’ll be there. I’ll fight your demons for as long as you need me to.”

“Do you promise?” Willow whimpers.

“I swear on my fucking life. No one will ever hurt you again.”