Kings of Decay (The Winston Brothers Duet #1)

11. Willow

Chapter eleven

Willow

I couldn’t remember how I got home, but I did not doubt that the Winston Brothers were responsible. I woke up with a pounding headache and panty-less, wrapped up in my quilt in my own bed. The space heater was on full blast.

My memories were fuzzy. They’d stripped me down and forced me to walk for miles before I passed out. They must have driven me home.

I didn’t know whether to be grateful or terrified.

The sound of the front door opening startled me.

“Willow, I’m home.” It was Dad.

A sudden, white-hot anger flooded me. If he hadn’t been at work, none of this would have happened. I struggled with the quilt — I guess those Winston brothers were good at tucking me in — and I found the warmest clothes I had.

Somehow, I’d fought off the early signs of hypothermia. It was probably a miracle, but right now, all I felt was rage.

I shoved my feet into my slippers and opened my bedroom door.

My dad was in the tiny kitchen making coffee.

“How was your first shift?”

Terrible. I wanted to scream. I was terrorized and abused by the so-called untouchable Winston brothers, and everyone in this crappy town is too scared to stand up to them.

But instead, I said, “Fine.”

“What about the walk home? Did someone give you a ride? I saw tire marks in the driveway.”

I seethed. Fighting all the poisonous, sharp words, I wanted to shout at him.

“Yeah,” I said.

“That’s nice,” Dad replied, plunking down and sipping his coffee.

How could he not notice how upset I was?

“I met the Winston Brothers,” I said, letting the words hang between us.

A flicker of concern passed over his face. “Ah, yes, I’ve heard a lot of rumors about those boys.”

Boys. As if they were troublemaking scamps, not alleged murders and psychos. Bullies who stripped me down to my underwear and made me walk in the cold night until I passed out.

I guessed I should be happy they took me home instead of letting me freeze to death.

At least if I were dead, I’d get to see Mom.

Mom.

The grief hit me like a freight train, and I let out a choking sob.

Dad finally looked up. “Willow, what’s wrong?” He bolted up and put his hands on my shoulders.

I sniffled and wiped away hot tears. “Just missing Mom,” I said. It wasn’t completely a lie.

“I miss her too,” Dad said, pulling me into a hug. “But we need to be strong. It’s what she would have wanted.”

I nodded, holding back my pathetic sniffles.

“Did you know you have mud in your hair?” Dad asked, changing the subject.He always did that.

I hadn’t realized it until now. I was filthy from landing in the dirty snow. “Uh, yeah,” I said quickly. “I wiped out in the parking lot.”

Dad chuckled and patted my head like he used to do when I was little. “Gotta be careful. That ice is slippery as hell.”

“I’m going to go shower,” I said, desperate to get away from the forced normalcy that he was pushing on me instead of talking about Mom.

Nothing was normal anymore.

Especially now that the Winston Brothers had marked me as a target.

If I was going to survive, I needed to play their twisted little game.