Chapter Nineteen
Liam
When he wakes the next morning, the sky outside is still gray. He rolls over and encounters a bundle of blankets. Stretching his hand over the makeshift blanket wall, he touches warmth. Willow. She and Frank are snuggled together on the far side of his large bed, blankets building a barrier between him and them. He eases up and squints into the darkness, barely able to make out the mounds their bodies make under the quilts. He can hear their breathing though, soft and low in the darkness. A fierce protectiveness sweeps over him at the sigh of Frank’s baby breaths.
Pushing aside the blankets, he creeps out of bed and into the kitchen, feeling his way to the coffee pot. Finally, he gives up and switches on the dim light over the range hood. He’s just scooping coffee into the filter when he hears the scuff of bare feet behind him. Turning, he finds Willow standing next to the counter, one of his t-shirts sweeping across her knees. She’s rumpled and delicious looking in the low light.
“Morning,” she whispers probably too scared to approach him.
“Morning.” He gestures to the coffee and grabs another cup from the cabinet when she nods her assent. They’re quiet, making their way to the sofa with their cups, steaming curling up over the tops of the fragrant brew.
Willow sits at one end and tucks her legs up underneath her, clutching her cup close to her and inhaling the scent before taking a small sip. Liam settles opposite her and watches her, sipping at his own coffee and letting it scald across his teeth.
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.”
“Take? What? Take who?” Liam stares at her in confusion.
Her slim throat jumps as she swallows heavily. “Take Frank. Run. Keep him safe. No one knows we know each other. I’ll go to Carlo, tell him I lost the baby. You take Frank and get as far away from Carlo as you can.”
Liam snatches her around to face him, the flat quality of her voice alarming him. “That’s not going to happen, Willow.”
“Please,” she begs quietly, “take him away, keep him safe. Give him a normal life, Liam.”
“Mommy.” A little voice pipes up from across the room. Frank is in the doorway, his little fists rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Liam bounds over and sweeps Frank up, swinging him around in a circle. “Morning, bug.” Frank giggles and wiggles out of his arms. Willow has moved to the kitchen and bustling around, pouring cereal and juice for Frank, freshening Liam’s coffee. The look on her face pleasant and bland as she listens to Frank’s chatter. When the boy is eating, and pushing a small car in circles around his bowl, Liam takes her arm and pulls her aside.
“Look at him, Willow,” he says quietly into her ear, “can you really leave him?”
Her glare is steel. “If it means saving him from Carlo? Yes.”
“Let’s talk to Detective Peters first. Just to see what he says.”
Willow glances back over her shoulder, her eyes lingering on the tiny boy popping rainbow colored bits into his mouth one by one, milk dripping over his fingers. Her sigh is an acquiescence.
“Okay, we’ll talk to your detective.”
Liam gathers her to him, pulling her into his chest, dropping kisses over her golden head. “Thank you, thank you. It will be okay, everything’s going to be all right, I promise. I’m going to keep both you and Frank safe.”
Willow lets him smooth his hands over her back and make his promises of safety but he can see in her eyes she thinks it’s hopeless. After he calls Detective Peters and sets up a time to meet, he comes back into the living room where she and Frank are playing some made up game on the carpet. He drops down onto the sofa, his elbows resting on his splayed knees as he watches them play for a bit. When Frank finally toddles to away, bunny dragging behind him, Willow settles onto the sofa beside Liam. She reaches over and laces her fingers through his.
“Listen,” she finally says, “I don’t really trust your detective but I’m willing to trust you. We we’ll go, we’ll listen to him but if I think anything is off, I’m gone. I’ll go on the run again. And you’re right. I can’t leave Frank. So, with or without you, I’ll be gone.”
Liam nods, “I understand that and in a way I think that it’s for the best after all we’re related.”
“By marriage only and we never knew.”
He shrugs, “Maybe?”
“Or are you still thinking of my mom?”
“You mean Harriet?”
He wonders if she’s using the word ‘mom’ to make him feel guilty about what he’s planning to do to her.
“No, this is about you and Frank. You two are the only ones that I care about.”
“Liam if you don’t chose to come with us, then you have to promise to never look for us. Ever.”
Liam just stares at her. He’s not sure he can do what she’s asking, but he’ll tell her whatever it takes to make her feel better about going to see Detective Peters. So he looks her in the eye and lies. “Okay, if you leave without me, I’ll never look for you.”
She slaps her hands together and stands up. “Okay, then. Let’s go see your detective.”