He clears his throat and she looks up, her face expectant. “I think there’s something we need to talk about.”
She nods her head as she sits quietly and waits for him to gather his thoughts.
“All right then. So, you know I know Carlo. But I didn’t tell you how. I didn’t just work in his club, he was the reason I went to prison. It was his hotel that Harriet set up the theft ring in. He’s the one who caught me, thanks to Harriet. He’s also the one who had his thugs beat me half lifeless before he turned me over to the cops.”
Willow’s mouth has formed a silent O. She licks at her lips before finally whispering, “That was you? I heard about that…heard his security talking about it. He was really pissed at you.”
“Yeah, I know, I was there.”
“I can’t believe, in Vegas, how close we were. I was right upstairs. And that night, that he caught you? That’s the night I ran. Security was gone because they were after you. Without even knowing it, you probably saved my life that night.” Tears spill over her cheeks.
Liam puts his coffee cup on the table and reaches over to take hers from her shaking hands, depositing it beside his.
“There’s more…” he starts. This is the part he doesn’t know how to tell her. He’s not sure how to get the words out the right way, without scaring her. He decides to just get it out and deal with what happens after. She’s waiting on him to finish.
“Okay,” he takes a shaky breath, “I did a job for Carlo in prison. I’m not going to tell you what it was, but it wasn’t…good. Now, Carlo wants me to do another job for him.”
Willow sits up straight and drops her feet to the floor. Tension
radiates off her in waves. Fear starts to tighten her face. She’s a bird on the verge of terrified flight, waiting for his next words to drop.
“It’s you. And Frank. You’re the job. He wants you back. Both of you.”
Willow bolts, flying across the room to the bedroom, her breath hashing out of her throat. Liam chases after her, wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her back into the living room, away from sleeping Frank.
“Willow, Willow, Willow. Baby, stop.” Liam has her wrapped in his arms, rocking her as a low, terrified moan seeps from her mouth. “Stop, baby. Shhh, shhh. Quiet, don’t scare Frank.”
When she hears her sons name, she starts to thrash against Liam, her keening taking on a higher pitch. Liam slaps his hand over her mouth and drags her across the room, falling to the sofa with her and pulling her onto his lap. He pulls his hand from her mouth and taps her lightly across both cheeks.
“Willow. Willow! Look at me, look at me, baby.” He grabs her chin and forces her face around. She’s babbling at him now, “Please, please, please. Don’t hurt him, don’t hurt Frank, he’s just a baby.”
Liam forces her to look at him, staring directly into her swirling eyes. “Willow.” He says each word with a calm and deliberate precision. “I’m not going to hurt you. Or Frank. I’m not going to give you up to Carlo.”
As his words sink in, she stills against him, her struggled movements slowing to a stop. Liam brushes at her face, dashing away the tears lingering on her cheeks. She sniffles and rubs her hand across her nose. Liam grabs the blanket off the back of the sofa and wraps it around her shoulders, pulling her onto his lap. Her terrified sobs give way to soft hiccups until she’s finally quiet in his arms.
When he thinks she’s calmed enough, he pulls back, eyes roaming over her face. “We’re going to figure this out, Willow. I’m going to help you, if I can.”
“What about mom?”
He chokes, “She’s not the issue right now. If I don’t kill you. Someone else will. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
She sits up, the blanket falling to the floor as she pushes off his lap. “There’s nothing you can do to help. If you don’t do the job he’ll just find someone else. He’ll keep sending people until he finally tracks me down and then he’ll take Frank…and do…who knows what he’ll do to me. If I’m lucky, he’ll kill me.”
Liam’s gut clenches violently at hearing her talk like that, at the defeat in her voice and at how dead and flat her eyes have suddenly become. It eats at his insides to think of anything happening to her and the kid. Liam realizes he wants to keep her safe. More than anything, he wants every morning to start like this one did, with her in safe in his bed, the two of them sharing coffee and quiet words in the still air. He wants her. All of her. He loves her.
He knows what he has to do.
“We can’t do this alone. We need to go to the cops. They’re the only ones that will help us.”
His eyes are darting around the room avoiding Willow’s as he tries to think of a plan.
“We’ve got no money and no one’s going to stand up to Carlo. Only one man will do and he has the force behind him.”
She surprises him by laughing, but it’s joyless and black, this laugh. Nothing that he’s ever heard from her before. It’s futility and bleakness. “We can’t go to the cops. Every cop from here to Vegas is in Carlo’s pocket. Going to them is a death warrant for the both of us. I’m not going to get both us killed.”
“No, I know someone. A detective. He’ll help us.”
“No one will help us, Liam.” She slumps in the corner of the sofa and stares off, her eyes on some distant point only she can see. “Take him.”