Briar Valley: The Complete Duet

12. Zach

CHAPTER 12

ZACH

MAN OR A MONSTER – SAM TINNESZ & ZAYDE WOLF

I don’t know who is more traumatised by the day’s events—Willow, Killian or myself. Hearing every last horrific, blood-slick detail of her kidnapping, trafficking and abuse has left me gutted.

But not just gutted.

That word can’t adequately describe how I’m feeling right now. I am incandescent with rage unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Fury. Hellfire. Righteous anger that’ll consume us all if I’m not careful.

That son of a bitch, Dimitri Sanchez, targeted Willow as a vulnerable teenager, trafficked her across the globe then stuck a ring on her finger to make it all seem legal to the public eye.

He locked her in a mansion and spent a decade raping, beating and emotionally and physically abusing the living daylights out of her. And he got her pregnant. Young. Before abusing his kid too.

Son of a fucking bitch!

“I need a drink,” I grumble.

Ethan claps me on the shoulder as we walk on the hotel’s plush carpet. “You’ve got the suite for the night. After today, you certainly deserve to rest up, and take full advantage of the room service.”

“You can bet your ass we intend to.”

He chuckles under his breath. “I’ll send a car tomorrow morning. We want to ask a few more questions before discussing Willow’s protection moving forward.”

“Sounds good. Willow needs a break.”

“Make sure she gets some rest, Zach.”

Both of us are studying her slumped shoulders and lowered head in front of us. Willow is exhausted after almost four hours of cross-examination and evidence documentation.

After her breakdown, she knuckled down and got through it like a motherfucking trooper. An incredible goddamn warrior princess far more capable than I’ve ever given her credit for.

Now Killian is carrying her in his arms back to our hotel room. I think it makes him feel better to hold her close like a child, offering the only shred of comfort and protection he can after hearing all she’s endured.

“Alright, this is yours.” Ethan hands me the key card outside our hotel room. “See you first thing. Thanks again for today, Willow.”

She lifts her head to spare him a glance. “No problem.”

“Your testimony is truly invaluable. We can’t thank you enough.”

“I just want to see him brought down,” she says tiredly. “That’s all.”

“We’re going to do our very best to do exactly that.” Ethan offers her a reassuring smile. “Sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

With a final friendly wave, he disappears back down the corridor and into the elevator. We unlock the hotel room door then step inside the fanciest room I’ve ever seen.

Fuck.

Is this how the other half live?

Thick, silver-speckled grey carpets span the massive floorspace, split into sections that organise the suite. There’s a sprawling king-sized bed covered in gold-laced sheets and a fully-stocked bar.

Several over-stuffed sofas surround a glass coffee table topped with perfect red roses, and a quick peek in the bathroom reveals a clawfoot tub big enough to fit a whole family.

“Fucking fancy shit,” Killian mutters as he sets Willow down. “I miss home.”

“It’s been twelve hours,” she points out.

“Twelve hours too long.”

I roll my eyes. “Caveman here can’t be without his axe for too long. The world will implode if he is.”

Killian flips me the bird. “Shut up, kid.”

“Love you too, cuz.”

“Love isn’t the word I’d use to describe how I feel about your annoying backside.”

“Ever the charmer, Kill.”

Shaking her head at us both, Willow mumbles about using the bathroom and vanishes. The sound of the shower flicking on follows, then her quiet sobbing in the falling water.

“Should we go in there?”

Killian shrugs. “She needs time. That was rough going.”

“I hate the thought of her going through this shit alone,” I grit out. “She survived that hell on her own. That doesn’t mean she has to now.”

“You want to go in there and figure out what the fuck to say after what we just heard?”

Defensive, I square up against him. “Maybe I do.”

“Then be my guest. I don’t have any words right now.”

As much as I feel like a deer caught in the headlights, and words are failing me too, I won’t sit out here while Willow suffers. She deserves better than that from us, regardless of the past.

Mind churning with ideas, I snap my fingers. “What about the ring? We still need to ask her.”

All he does is stare at me—a thick, blonde eyebrow raised in an incredulous look. Fine. It may not be my brightest or most romantic idea, but at least I’m trying.

Killian lowers his voice. “Right now? You really want this to be her memory of that moment?”

“I’m just fishing here. I want to make her feel better.”

“The thought of spending the rest of her life with a shit-for-brains twat like you isn’t going to improve her day.”

“Hey, I don’t have shit for brains.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I just have no brain at all, apparently.”

He breaks out into quiet, rumbling laughter. “That I don’t disagree with. Terrible idea, Zach.”

“Alright, back off. It was just a thought.”

When the sound of Willow’s hiccupping sobs intensifies, Killian’s blank fa?ade breaks. He scrubs a hand over his beard and snarls under his breath with the same fury that’s eating me up.

“She’s in pain, and I can’t fucking fix it. Again.”

Gingerly approaching, I rest a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t on you. We always knew that testifying for Ethan was going to be messy.”

“Still,” he harrumphs. “I can never bloody fix it, can I? Whenever she’s hurting, I can’t do a goddamn thing.”

“None of us can, Kill.”

“That really doesn’t make me feel better.”

Unable to give him a single crumb of comfort, I pat his arm and decide to hell with it. He can sit here and feel sorry for himself all he likes. I’ll step up and be whatever the hell Willow needs right now.

She’s back in the trenches of her past, and I won’t let her wallow in the darkness alone. Someone has to reach on down there and yank her up before she drowns herself.

Letting myself into the steam-filled bathroom, I can see the soft, rounded slopes of her curves through the moisture-flecked glass. She’s still crying in the shower but quieter now.

“Willow?” I call out.

Her sniffling stops. “Zach?”

“I’m coming in. Make some space.”

Quickly peeling off my tight blue jeans and long-sleeved tee, I step into the walk-in shower and pull her straight into my arms. She feels like a tiny, trembling wreck against my bare chest.

“I’m here,” I whisper into her wet hair. “Right here, babe. You aren’t alone.”

Her face buries in my pectorals, hidden from sight. I hate to admit that I know the sight of her swollen eyes and devastated smile a little too well now. We’ve been through hell together over the last year.

And something tells me that hellish ride to the depths of Lucifer’s fires is only just beginning. What Willow did today will change everything—for the better or worse, I can’t yet decide.

The race is on.

We’re coming for Sanchez.

Rocking Willow beneath the warm spray of water, I stroke a hand up and down the length of her spine. She’s managed to put some weight on since returning, but not enough to make up for what she’s lost.

Studying her small curves, my eyes catch on a bright-red slash that causes an invisible hand to squeeze my windpipe. Taking a closer look, I realise what I’m looking at.

“Uh, babe?”

Willow hums tiredly in response.

“Mind telling me what the fuck this is all about?”

I’m holding her wrist in my hand, gently rotating it to show the fresh, jagged slash across her milky skin. It’s layered on top of scars—thin, silvery scars that weren’t previously there.

I’ve seen these marks before. Only once. My brother bears the same scars on his skin. The alcohol wasn’t always his worst coping mechanism, and the fear I once felt for him is rushing through me now.

“It’s n-nothing,” Willow protests.

“Nothing? Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” I spit back.

She tries to pull her wrist from my grip, but I tighten my hold and hold it in plain view. My eyes won’t tear from those damned silver spikes of pain and self-inflicted fury that blemish her skin like lightning strikes.

“How long has this been going on for?”

Her throat bobs. “A… A few months. I wanted to tell you?—”

“But you didn’t,” I interrupt.

“I promised Killian that I’d stop.” Tears well in her eyes again. “He’s going to kill me.”

“Killian fucking knows?”

Anger pulsates through my veins. I’m not an angry person. My cousin holds enough hatred for the world for the both of us. But this shit… This is too much. He should’ve told me.

“I’ll kill him!”

“Zach,” Willow protests, grabbing my bicep. “Just take a breath. It’s one tiny little cut. I needed something this morning, and it’s nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious? You’re cutting yourself, babe! You’ve been doing it for months.”

The tears are now coursing down her cheeks in shimmering rivers of shame. Making myself stop and breathe through my fury, I bring a hand up to cup her cheek.

My thumb tenderly brushes over her skin, smoothing the tears aside. “I’m sorry, gorgeous girl. I just can’t deal with the thought of you doing this to yourself.”

“It was only a few times, Zach.”

“I can see for myself that isn’t true.”

“But… I had stopped.” She gnaws on her bottom lip. “I wanted to. For Ari and for myself. Today just got the better of me. It was a one-off thing.”

I stroke my thumb down to her lips, caressing the soft, pillowy swells. “Promise?”

She lets me probe her mouth with my finger, the tip of her tongue swiping over my thumb. With her wide, hazel eyes staring up at me like bottomless pools of freshly brewed coffee, I can’t stay mad.

Even though I want to scream.

Smash. Rave. Shout.

Willow doesn’t need rage right now. Killian’s or mine. She needs compassion and understanding. If anyone knows how to love someone on the verge of self-destructing, it’s me. I’m a self-taught expert.

“Promise,” she murmurs around my thumb.

Moving my hand to her hair, I ease my fingers into the wet strands to massage her scalp. She leans into my touch, her mouth parted on a low, needy whine. My other hand moves to squeeze her hip.

Despite everything, the feel of her slick, wet body turns me on. I can’t help it. I’m magnetised to her like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the tempting glow of light.

“Willow,” I say throatily.

Her chest pushes into mine, the hardened points of her nipples teasing my skin. “Yes?”

“I need you right now, babe. I’m sorry, but I can’t think straight.”

Her leg hitches up to catch on my hip. “I need you too. Make me feel good again.”

“Are you sure? After today?”

“Please.”

Dammit . That word on her tongue has always been my downfall. Powerless against her siren’s call, I bring my hand between her legs then skate upwards. Her pussy is already soaking wet.

“Fuck, babe. You’re so wet already.”

“I’m sorry.”

My grip on her tightens. “Don’t you dare fucking apologise to me for that. I’m going to make you feel good, okay?”

Nodding obediently, she lets me seize her mouth in a firm kiss. Her lips are like molten caramel against mine—sweet and velvety soft. God, she’s perfect. So fucking incredible, I can hardly take it.

We continue to kiss in the steam-filled shower, our bodies slick and sliding against each other. With her leg hooked up on my hip, I have the space to explore her cunt, teasing her clit before sliding a finger deep inside of her.

Willow gasps in pleasure as I curl it slightly to stroke against her sensitive nerve endings. Her warmth beckons me in, so I add a second finger to stretch her tight cunt wider.

“That’s it,” I encourage, fucking her with my hand. “Let me stretch this tight little pussy nice and wide before I fuck you.”

“Jesus, Zach. You have the filthiest mouth.”

“You love it.”

Willow’s blush is evident, even in the hot shower. “I do.”

Working her into a frenzy, I pull my hand away before she can finish and bring my fingers to her lips. Willow opens her mouth, willingly sucking them in to taste her own tang on my skin.

“Perfect,” I praise, letting my fingers glide against her tongue. “Now a little deeper, babe.”

Relaxing, she lets me slide the fingers farther into her mouth. I want to see how much she can take. She needs a distraction right now, and I’m more than willing to give it.

Pushing my fingers towards her throat, she takes them all the way in before gagging a little. When I pull them out, they’re coated in strings of saliva that stretch from her gorgeous mouth.

“Such a good princess, aren’t you?” I whisper, smearing her saliva across my thumb pad. “What if I pushed my cock deep into that perfect throat of yours now?”

Rather than answering, Willow sinks to her knees. She takes my cock with both hands then sucks it into her mouth, causing me to throw my head back as I’m hit by a wave of bliss.

“Shit, babe. You take it so fucking good for me.”

Bobbing on my length, she hollows out her cheeks to increase the pressure. Each suck causes my balls to tighten. Her mouth is a warm, heavenly prison wrapped around my cock.

Gathering her short hair into my left hand, I hold it tight and guide her movements until I’m roughly fucking her mouth. I want to fuck the despair from her mind and leave no space for it to return.

Each thrust into her mouth feels blissful. She’s an absolute pro. Her mouth tightens and loosens at the perfect moments with tiny little rotations.

Cupping the back of her head, I push deeper into her mouth, feeling the tip of my cock press against her throat. She struggles a little but doesn’t make a move to push me away, continuing to suck instead.

“That’s it, gorgeous girl. Keep going.”

I want to bury myself in her cunt and fuck her until she cries out my name for the whole hotel to hear. This is how wild she makes me. Fucking reckless. Out of my mind with lust.

My heart beats in a rapid staccato as my balls tighten, ready to burst. She’s driving me right to the edge. My legs are trembling, and I fight to control myself, overcome by tingles zipping up and down my spine.

Around her, I can never think straight, let alone when she’s on her knees in front of me, those stunning hazel eyes looking up at me through thick, luscious black lashes.

Seconds before I shoot my load down her pretty throat, I still her movements and slide out. She licks her glistening lips and peers up at me with an innocent look.

“Are you going to fuck me now?”

“Yes, babe. Stand up, and bend over for me like the good little slut you are.”

“Yes, Zachariah.”

“There’s a good girl.”

Eyes flaring with desire, she follows my orders and presses her hands to the shower wall. Her pert, perfect ass is pushed out as her spine curves, giving me full access to her pussy.

Pumping my cock, I line myself up with her then slam into her. I just need to feel her clenched around me. Willow cries out, louder than the shower can possibly drown out.

I pull out and surge back into her again, over and over, letting her know that she can’t expect sweet and gentle. Not after today. I’m too fucking angry to look after her right now.

But we need this.

Both of us.

The rough, painful collision of two angry people fucking out their frustrations at the world. Her brokenness is only enraging me more, and I can’t do a damn thing to fix it but this.

My palm tingles as it smacks against her ass, roughly spanking her skin. She moans again, losing herself to the storm of sensations as her cunt squeezes around my cock buried inside her.

“Zach,” she keens.

“Yeah? Are you okay?”

“M-More. I need more. Please… choke me like you used to.”

Hesitation sets in. “You want that?”

“I can’t fucking breathe, knowing that asshole is out there, hurting other people. I need you to help me breathe.”

Sneaking my hand around her torso, I bring it up to the smooth slope of her neck. I can feel how fast her heart is beating as I clench her throat.

“You want to breathe, baby girl?” I whisper in her ear. “Well, you’re not allowed to. Not until I say so.”

Pushing backwards against me, she encourages me to resume slamming into her. I keep her throat clamped tight in my hand and resume a battering pace, worshipping her cunt into oblivion.

Water cascades around us, the entire hotel ceasing to exist. Nothing else matters. Not Sabre. Not Sanchez. Not even the investigation. It’s just us—safe in each other’s anger and passion.

Sensing her struggling for air, I release her throat and grant her a brief second of salvation. “Breathe, babe.”

She follows my orders, gulping down air into her stuttering lungs. When my generosity expires, I resume my tightening grip and cut off her air supply again.

It goes on… clamping, releasing, squeezing and breathing. Each time she comes close to an orgasm, I still my movements and offer her a sliver of air to keep her on that painful cliff, without allowing her to fall off.

“Zach,” she whimpers during a breath.

Hearing the pain in her voice, I quickly drop my hand. “What is it? Too much?”

Certain I’ve gone too far, dread rips through me. Her head falls, shoulders slumping and tears flowing. Quickly pulling out, I spin her around so I can tilt her chin up and see her face.

“Talk to me,” I beg her.

Willow’s tears are flowing. “Why me? Why did he do this to me?”

“I… don’t know, babe.”

The knife buried deep in my heart twists at the misery in her voice.

“Anyone in th-the whole entire fucking world, and he chose m-me. Why?”

After pressing kisses to the flushed skin on her throat, I secure my lips to hers. “There isn’t an answer to that question, my love. You can’t drive yourself crazy asking it.”

“But I need to know. I have to know what I did to deserve this pain.”

Wishing I could take it all away, I wipe her tears instead. “Nothing. You did absolutely nothing. You’re all that’s good and pure in this world.”

Sniffling, she swats away her tears, her pupils dilating. When she reaches for my still-hard cock, I know we’re going to finish what I started, regardless of how fucked this moment is.

I grab her ass cheeks and lift her, walking forward until her back meets the tiled shower wall. Her mouth seeks mine out, hot and heavy as I slide back into her cunt at a new angle.

With her pussy walls hugging my length, I can’t hold on for long. It’s too much to handle. Plunging in and out in rapid succession, I chase my release to the finish line, thrusting at a hard and fast pace.

Burying my face in her chest, I roar through a climax so intense, it blurs my vision. I can feel her falling apart too—quivering and moaning as I hold her up. The emotional storm caught in this shower with us heightens the moment, leaving us both winded.

Once her aftershocks have stopped, I let Willow slide down my body. “Are you okay?”

She nods, red-faced and breathless. “Better now, thanks.”

I crook a finger under her chin then stroke a stray tear from her cheek. “I love you so fucking much, Willow. I’d do anything for you. Anything at all.”

“I know, Zach. I feel the same way.”

“You don’t need to hide shit from me.” My eyes stray down to the cut on her wrist. “Just talk to me. Please. There’s nothing we can’t figure out together.”

She gulps hard. “I’ll try.”

“Good enough for me.”

Before our mouths can gravitate back together, there’s a loud bang on the bathroom door and Killian’s voice echoes through the wood.

“You two done in there? Some of us have to pee.”

Willow’s forehead crashes against my sternum. “Charming.”