Chapter 7 Willow #3
Why is he here? Did they change their minds about killing me? That guy Malice wanted me dead for sure, and maybe he managed to make his case overnight, sending the one who argued to save me to do the job.
Ransom seemed to be against it last night, but why would he stick up for me and put himself at odds with his friends?
I take a small step backward, on the verge of dropping my tray and running, but Ransom reaches out before I can do anything.
“Come on,” he murmurs, plucking the tray from my hand and dropping it anyway. Then he tugs me through the crowd, pulling me into a room near the back where the cleaning crew keeps all their buckets and mops.
It’s a small, cramped space, not meant to fit two people and a bunch of cleaning stuff. The closet is filled with the scent of various cleaners and stale water, but somehow, over all that, is the scent of Ransom.
It fills my nostrils, blocking out everything else with the scent of something almost spicy and sharp, with an undercurrent of grease and motor oil. It’s unique but not bad, and it makes my heart thud heavily in my chest.
This close, I can’t deny how handsome he is. All three of the men from last night had a beauty about them, but the other two were sharper, like you could cut yourself just by looking at them too closely. Ransom is more classically handsome, with looks that seem designed to draw a person in.
But despite that, I’m still terrified of him. Gorgeous or not, I know he could kill me if he wanted to without breaking a sweat. I saw what he helped do to the Russian last night.
“W-what do you want?” I demand, trying to sound annoyed at being dragged away from work instead of like I’m about to piss myself from fear.
He gives me a crooked smile.
“Don’t worry, Malice didn’t change his mind,” he says, as if he’s read my mind. “And neither did Victor. They just wanted me to come here tonight to make sure you remember our deal.”
“Right. And to let me know that you know where I work. And probably where I live too.” I snort, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Ransom’s pierced eyebrow twitches upward, and his smile widens. “You’re smart. I like that. And brave, even though I’m sure you’re freaked the fuck out.”
He’s right about that, but I’m not about to admit it. It already feels like he knows too much about me, like he can read me too well.
“I remember our deal. I won’t say anything to anyone,” I assure him. I bite my lip, then continue in a rush. “My boss asked about it. But I said I didn’t know anything about what had happened.”
The smile fades from Ransom’s face, his brows pulling together. “Why did he want to know?”
“He…” I swallow. “He was the one who set me up with the job. He sent Giselle—the madame, or whatever—my name.”
“Ah, I see.”
He narrows his eyes, gazing down at me with such an intent expression that it makes my skin flush.
There’s a muffled cheer from outside, which is usually a sign that one of the more popular dancers must be about to start her set.
Ransom looks past me, like he can see through the door to the main area of the club where the dancers and the patrons do their thing.
“You need to quit this job,” he says finally.
My eyes widen. “What?”
“Regardless of whether your boss believes you or not, you need to put more distance between yourself and this place, especially since he’s the one who sent you to the whorehouse last night. We don’t want anyone connecting the dots that put you at the brothel before it got torched.”
“I can’t!” I tell him, my heart thudding heavily against my sternum. “I need the money. I’m already behind on trying to pay the rest of my tuition for this semester, and if I lose this job, I won’t even be able to make rent.”
Ransom steps closer to me, and I instinctively step back—but I only make it about two steps before my back hits the door.
He rests his palms on the wood on either side of my head, boxing me in as I crane my neck to keep looking at his face.
I’m of pretty average height, and this guy and his two friends are all tall, over six feet.
There’s heat in Ransom’s eyes as he stares down at me, but it’s not the heat of desire. It’s something that makes my blood run a little colder with fear.
I’ve only interacted with him and the other two for a little bit, but in that small amount of time, Ransom has always seemed like the nicest one. If any of them could be called nice after what I saw them do, I guess. At least he’s more charming and seems more… human than the others.
But in this moment, I know I was right to begin with, that first night I bumped into him.
He’s dangerous and deadly, and the hard look on his face proves that. He can be just as terrifying as the other two when he wants to be.
His voice drops down a little when he speaks, and a shiver runs through me as his words hit my ear.
“It wasn’t a request,” he says simply. “This is your last day working here.”
I blink, my heart sinking. Tears well in my eyes, and I want to look away from him, but he’s just so close. There’s nowhere else to look, nothing else to focus on with his muscled body crowding mine like this.
A tear slips down my cheek, and when I sniffle a little, trying to stop it from becoming a torrent, the hard look on his face softens. He sighs, reaching over to run a knuckle down my cheek.
“I’m sorry you got mixed up in all this shit, angel,” he murmurs. “It’s not fucking fair, but that’s the way life is sometimes. I have to look out for my brothers, you know? We’re all we’ve got.”
Brothers.
Right. The three of them are brothers.
I remember Ransom mentioning something about how the Russian guy killed their mother, Diana Voronin.
And even if I hadn’t heard him say that, I could probably have guessed that the three of them are related.
There’s definitely some resemblance between him and the two men with dark hair, and the similarities between the dark-haired men were obvious—even if their demeanors seemed to be almost polar opposites.
Three brothers.
Three monsters.
Three men who wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if they had to, to protect each other.
A wave of fear rushes through me at the thought, and my throat tightens as something almost like envy follows on its heels. They have each other, and I don’t have anyone. No one to watch out for me. No one to have my back. No one to help me as my life spins out of control.
“Okay,” I whisper, another tear slipping through my eyelashes and trailing down until it reaches Ransom’s hand. “I’ll tell Carl I quit.”
Ransom nods gravely, brushing the teardrop away from my cheek. “Good girl.”
He lingers for a moment longer, gazing down at me with his knuckles still lightly touching my face. The point of contact between us tingles, making goosebumps rise up on my skin, and I hold my breath, staying absolutely still.
When he opens his mouth, I think he’s about to say something else, but then he just shakes his head and closes it again. He tugs me away from the door and slips out of the closet, disappearing into the crowd.