Briar Valley: The Complete Duet

10. Willow

CHAPTER 10

WILLOW

NEED IT – HALF MOON RUN

It takes until New Year’s Eve for me to work up the emotional strength to return to our cabin. We’ve been living out of the guys’ spare room since arriving home before Christmas.

While Arianna plays with the other children out in the snow, I begin to move our bags across the road. The cabin door squeaks in protest as I heave it open and step inside.

Thick dust surges up my nose, and the scent of stale air greets me home. The cabin is exactly as we left it—clean dishes next to the sink, paint swatches scattered about.

It’s like we never left.

Yet everything is different now.

Closing the door, I make a beeline for the open fireplace and start stacking logs and kindling to light a fire. I can see my breath fogging up the air, it’s so cold. Mountain winters are no joke.

With the fire beginning to crackle, I stand up to survey the space. Everything needs a good clean, but it’s still the warm, cosy slice of home that I spent months making perfect for our family.

I missed this place.

The apartment never felt like home, it was merely a temporary solution to our overnight homelessness. I dreamed about coming back to this cabin every night for months on end.

When my dreams turned into nightmares, I stopped wishing for the unthinkable, instead resorting to telling myself that letting go was safer. Easier. Less heartache. I was wrong about that too.

After depositing Arianna’s suitcase in her pink bedroom, complete with the fairytale-themed mural that Micah painted what feels like a lifetime ago, I move to the master room.

The room causes my heart to twinge. It’s dark-wood flooring and deep turquoise walls match the rest of the colour theme—calming and homey. This place is full of so many happy memories.

“Food for thought?” a voice rumbles.

Heart leaping into my throat, I clutch my chest and spin to face Killian behind me. “Where did you come from so quietly?”

He lifts a burly shoulder in a shrug. “Outside.”

“I’ve never heard you move so silently.”

Killian inches closer—creeping, stealthier than a coiled snake, into my personal space. The smell of freshly chopped wood and the surrounding forest clings to his green flannel shirt and mud-splattered jeans.

“What are you thinking about?”

My throat catches. “The past.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Our past?”

“All of ours.”

Sliding a calloused finger beneath my chin, he ever so gently strokes along the curved length of my jawbone.

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” he admits roughly. “We’ve lost a lot of time. I don’t want to go into next year without knowing we’re going to be okay.”

Unable to resist the magnetic pull of his raw power, crackling over me like rapidly spreading flames that sear through my bone and muscle, I surrender.

To him. To us.

To whatever the fuck he needs right now.

“New Year’s Eve got you feeling all emotional, Kill?”

He scoffs. “Me? Emotional?”

“Let’s skip pretending like you’re not capable of it. We both know the truth. For all of your anger, I know that you still love me. I have to believe that.”

His breathing halts for a long, painful second. “I do. That’s true.”

“Then what do you want next year to look like?”

Stroking the backs of his knuckles against my cheek, he slides a hand into my hair and kneads my head. His touch adds to the acute sense of pressure that his fire-lit gaze is causing to build inside of me.

“You, me and the kid,” he answers.

“What about the twins?”

“If Micah gets his shit together and I can avoid killing Zach, then sure. But I need us first. If we’re broken, I can’t look after this family anymore.”

“Don’t say that, Kill.”

“It’s the truth,” he admits, stroking his hand through my short hair. “I can’t look after them if I don’t have you here to keep me sane. I’m done living this life alone. I can’t do it.”

Heart squeezing, I reach onto my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck. Killian’s hand moves to the small of my back and holds me against his huge, muscled frame.

“You never have to walk alone again,” I whisper into his scruff-covered face. “Arianna and I will have protection soon. That means we can stay.”

“Am I not enough protection for you, baby?”

I peck his lips, soft and coaxing. “You know that’s not what this is about. We need professional security, capable of handling the threat that Mr Sanchez poses.”

“My rifle and I looked after you well enough before,” he reasons.

“And I know that you always will. This is me trying to look after you as well. That future won’t happen for either of us if you’re dead.”

Killian smirks against my mouth. “That’s cute. This motherfucker won’t have a head left to talk bullshit with if he comes anywhere near us.”

“Alright, big, scary man. That’s enough decapitation talk. We should be celebrating the new year.”

His smile cracks and fades. I watch the grief filter back into his eyes—infecting the iris and causing his pupil to contract as he retreats from my grasp. It feels like being punched in the chest.

“She should be here,” Killian croaks.

I bury my face in his soft shirt. “I know.”

“It wasn’t her time, Willow. I don’t fucking understand this world.”

“No one does. All we can hope for is the strength to hold on to each other for as long as we can. Lola would want us to live for that.”

“She would, I suppose.”

“You know she would.”

Tangling our fingers together, I drag his mountainous body back through the cabin and into the living room. It’s warming up as the fire roars, spewing heat and the wonderful smell of crackling wood.

Killian lets me deposit him on the rug, and I grab the half-empty bottle of whiskey from the kitchen. It’s still there from our last drinking session earlier in the year. We don’t bother with glasses and pass it between us instead.

He stares into the flames, warm orange light dappling across his strong, rugged features and lips which are pressed tightly together. I wish I could fathom what goes on in his mind, if only for a second.

“Do you think she’s watching us?” he randomly asks. “Up there?”

“In heaven?”

“If that’s what you believe in.”

“You don’t?” I frown at him.

Killian takes a swig and shrugs. “I’m not sure what I believe. Sometimes, it hurts more to think they’re watching us and can’t let us know they’re okay… wherever they are.”

I know he’s talking about his parents. Killian was barely eighteen when his parents died, and he took the twins under his care not long after, as their father had passed on years before.

“I like to think there’s a heaven.” I take the bottle from him and sip. “Pedro would be there too, watching over us. And my… my baby. I have to believe they’re safe somewhere.”

“Shit,” Killian curses. “I’m sorry, Willow. I didn’t think.”

“No, you’re fine.” I bump our shoulders together. “You’ve lost people too. Even more than I have. We can talk about this stuff.”

Clearing his throat, he stares deep into the fire. “I just… I miss them. Every goddamn day. We never got the chance to say goodbye, now Lola’s gone too.”

Resting my head on his shoulder, I snuggle closer to try to offer him some comfort. Even if there’s nothing I can ever do to fix the cruelness of grief and sudden loss.

“They’re here,” I murmur through my clogged throat. “Even when we can’t see them, they’re here. You’ve never been alone.”

“Even when I feel like it?”

“Especially when you feel like it, Kill.”

Resting his head on top of mine, I hear him drag in a ragged breath. I don’t want to move an inch or cause him to run away. Not now. His shields are down for the first time since I returned.

We sit in silence for what feels like hours, the only sound our breathing and the crackle of flames. The bottle is empty by the time Killian finally shifts and speaks again.

“I’m so fucking glad you’re home.”

“Yeah,” I rasp. “Me too.”

“Promise me you’ll never leave again?”

“You know I won’t make a promise that I can’t keep. I will always do what’s necessary to protect my daughter. But I have no intention of leaving after I’ve spoken to Ethan’s team.”

Killian moans in displeasure. “Fuck, I’d forgotten about that. I can’t believe we’re going to the biggest damn city in the entire country… voluntarily.”

“Stop your grumbling. It isn’t a field trip.”

“Feels like it,” he complains.

“I can go with Zach and Ryder. You don’t have to come.”

“Like hell. I’m coming.”

The creak of footsteps approaching ends our solitude. There’s a second’s warning before the door to the cabin slams open, and Arianna comes flying in. Her face is a mask of excitement.

“We’re home!” she yells.

Aalia follows her in, wearing a blazing smile. “Sorry, Willow. She was missing you.”

I throw my arms open. “Come here, baby.”

Running towards me, Arianna leaps into my arms. I fall backwards from the weight of her growing body and end up landing across Killian’s lap. He peers down at us both in amusement.

“You’re getting too big, peanut.”

“No, I’m not,” Arianna protests. “I need to be as big as you, Giant!”

“Good luck with that,” he snorts.

Untangling myself, I dump Arianna in Killian’s lap then stand up to hug Aalia. She declines the offer of a drink, too busy fussing over me and pinching my still-gaunt cheeks.

“It’s New Year’s Eve,” she declares grandly.

“So?”

“You need to come and celebrate with us.”

“I don’t kn?—"

“I insist,” she cuts me off. “You can’t just sit here and drink alone. Come for dinner in a couple of hours. I’m sure Walker would like to get to know you. He and the girls are living in our spare two bedrooms.”

“How’s that going?”

Her smile broadens. “Very well.”

Snickering behind me, Killian seems to be in on the joke. It takes me a moment to catch on to the light dusting of pink across Aalia’s olive-toned skin. Oh. It’s like that, apparently.

“You’re… enjoying his company?” I laugh.

She splutters. “I never kiss and tell.”

“Sure, sure. Looks like I missed all the drama while I was away.”

“Something like that.” Aalia winks. “Dinner! Two hours!”

Breezing out of the cabin, she leaves us laughing to ourselves. Walker seemed very nervous when we first met, so I’m glad he’s come out of his shell and that Aalia has found someone.

“How long has that been going on for?” I spin around.

“Few weeks now,” Killian answers while tickling Arianna’s ribcage. “It wasn’t overnight. Walker’s still pretty mistrusting of us all after all he’s been through. Widowed, I hear.”

“Poor guy. Recently?”

“Couple of years.”

Briar Valley has a way of collecting the lost and broken people in life. It sounds like Walker and his two daughters are no different. I hope they can find some peace here.

“You up for dinner?”

“Got no other plans,” Killian replies. “Zach’s helping Ryder in the garage, and Micah’s in the studio. Doubt he’ll come.”

The mention of Micah’s name causes my heart to thud against my ribcage. He hasn’t spoken to me since storming out on Christmas Day, no matter what assurances I give.

“Stop,” he interjects.

“Huh?”

“You’re worrying about him again. I can tell by the look on your face. Micah will come around eventually.”

“How long until he forgives me?”

Placing Arianna down on the rug, Killian approaches and pulls me into a bear hug. “That I can’t answer. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

He chuckles. “For a change.”

With his bearded chin resting on my head, I let out a long sigh. He and Zach have come around, slowly but surely. I never expected Micah to be the one to hold a grudge for the longest.

But in many ways, I’ve hurt him even more than them. I took his trust and ground it into pathetic pieces after he dared to open himself up. That can’t be forgotten overnight.

“Where’s Demon?” I pull out of his hug.

“Eating dinner across the road,” Arianna answers as she rolls around on the floor. “She was hungry after playing all afternoon.”

“Let’s go and find her, yeah?”

“Okay!”

Arianna leaps up and zips from the cabin in a blur of energy. Even after running around with the other children, she’s still borderline hyperactive, and has been ever since we returned.

With her gone, Killian sneaks up behind me and bands his arms around my waist. His hand finds my wrist and tugs on the long sleeve, a single fingertip skating underneath the fabric.

“When are we gonna talk about this?”

I suppress a shudder as he gently strokes over the rigid lump of a new scar. “We don’t need to discuss it.”

“I disagree very fucking strongly with that.”

“And I’m allowed to have some privacy,” I argue. “We all coped in our own ways the last few months.”

“So you’re not going to do it again?”

“Just leave it alone.”

“I can’t do that,” he retorts.

“You don’t have a choice.”

Pulling his arms from my body, I step out of his embrace and follow in Arianna’s footsteps. I don’t have an answer for him right now, and I refuse to lie anymore.

I wish I could say that I’m done with it, but the urge is still there in the background. It flows with each breath that I take, and it’s only a matter of time before that overtakes everything again.