Chapter 15 Willow
WILLOW
Malice stares down at me, the words he spoke in Russian still hanging between us. My body is buzzing, a mix of adrenaline and arousal surging through my veins, and my emotions are running so high that I feel like there’s no way my skin can contain them all.
“We did what we came here to do,” he says, his voice still a little deeper than usual, raspy and gruff. “We’ll be leaving soon.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. My legs shake as I turn back to face the railing, trying to get my pulse back under control.
Malice doesn’t say anything else, but the same way I could feel it when he arrived, I can tell when he leaves, as if my body can sense his absence even though his footsteps are quiet on the carpet.
Running my hands over my hair to smooth down the flyaways, I gaze at the crowd below, all the guests talking and laughing and going about their business. None of them even noticed what was happening up here, and somehow, that makes me feel dirty and wrong.
I should have been down there, mingling and learning how to be a part of this new world.
Not up here, getting…
My cheeks flush at the memory of Malice’s thick fingers thrusting in and out of me, the heel of his hand grinding against my clit right where I needed it.
Despite my shame, some dark, sensual part of me loved it.
He was right about that. It made me feel free and wild, just like I felt that night with all three of the brothers.
But it’s all too much.
These men get under my skin too much, leaving me too unbalanced and off-kilter. I told myself I was done with them, that it was best to cut ties, and yet here I am.
Once I’m sure Malice isn’t coming back, I push away from the railing and start to make my way down the stairs, my legs still wobbly.
As I reach the bottom of the steps, I almost crash into Joshua, who’s coming from the opposite direction. He looks me over, and I can only imagine what he sees. Is my face still flushed? Do I look as sexed up and dirty as I feel?
Fuck, can he smell it on me?
“Oh hey, Willow. I was wondering where you got to.” He grins at me, then his brows draw together. “Are you alright? You look a little—”
“Yeah,” I say quickly, cutting him off before he can finish. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a little overheated. I’m going to go find someplace to sit down.”
Before he can say anything else, I move away from him, pushing blindly through the crowd of people. Suddenly, there are too many of them. Too many voices adding to the din in my head, too many sharp, fake laughs, too much going on.
I just want to be alone. I need some quiet and a few minutes time to clear my head and gather my thoughts.
Every little room I find is filled with people, and my emotions keep spiraling, something almost like panic beating at my chest. I’m almost on the verge of tears when I finally find a bathroom.
It’s single occupancy, and I let out a sigh of relief as the door closes behind me, shutting out the noise.
The bathroom is small but nice, the toilet separated from the rest of the room by a stall, and a small cushioned bench against one wall, with a little table next to it.
I sink down onto the bench gratefully, exhaling roughly. I run my hands over my dress and try to focus on taking deep, even breaths.
“You’re okay,” I whisper to myself. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”
But my clit is still throbbing, and my heart is still racing.
I close my eyes, trying to center myself and focus on something other than how fractured and confused I feel, but every time I breathe in, it’s like I can still feel Malice there. Like he’s still pressed against me, talking low in my ear, working me up until I can’t do anything but beg for him.
The sound of the door opening sends panic shooting through me, and my eyes snap open. I’m expecting it to be some guest of the gala, annoyed at finding someone crying in the restroom when all they wanted to do was pee, but it’s not a stranger at all.
It’s Ransom.
I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than what I expected, and I watch warily as he comes in, closing the door behind him. He walks over and sits down next to me on the bench, close enough that I can feel the heat of his body at my side.
Surreptitiously, I reach up to brush my fingers over my cheeks, trying to wipe away the few tears that escaped earlier.
“Are you okay?” Ransom asks quietly, glancing sidelong at me.
“I’m fine.” It’s an automatic response, and I’m hoping it’s enough to get him to leave me alone.
But I really should know better by now.
Ransom’s blue-green eyes don’t stray away from my face, and he tips his head to one side, like he’s trying to see through me.
“I saw Malice talking to you before,” he says. “Up on the second level. Did he… ?”
He trails off, and I stiffen even more, realizing what he’s getting at. He knows what happened up there between me and Malice, which means he probably saw it. And if he saw it, then anyone else could have. Everyone else could have.
They could all know what happened and what I said to Malice and what he did to me and—
My breathing turns ragged again as I start to freak out. My heart pounds so hard in my chest that I can hear the blood rushing through my body.
“Did you… did you see?” I manage to get out. “Did everybody see?”
Ransom shakes his head quickly. “It’s fine, pretty girl.
Nobody saw. No one from the gala was looking at you.
Which really just makes them all fucking fools for not wanting to watch you every second you’re here.
” He shoots me that lopsided grin that used to make my heart turn over in my chest. “But I guess that’s more my brothers’ and my thing, isn’t it? ”
I swallow hard, trying to take some comfort in his certainty that what Malice and I did went unnoticed. The last thing I need is for the people here, for my fucking grandmother, to know what went on.
“Are you sure?” I press. “No one saw?”
“No one saw,” he promises. “And even if they had glanced your way, other people probably wouldn’t have known what was going on. It just looked like you and Malice were talking up there. Standing a bit close, maybe, but that’s all.”
“Then how did you know?” I counter.
He shrugs. “Because I can read you. I know what you look like when you’re close to falling apart, even if you try to hide it.”
He says it matter-of-factly, and it makes me feel laid bare in front of him—because I know he’s right. I put my hands over my face, and I can feel the heat from my flaming cheeks.
Fuck. It’s so easy for them to do this to me, and it’s so damned embarrassing.
“I shouldn’t have let that happen,” I blurt out, shaking my head. “I have a chance to turn over a new leaf now, and I need to take it. I have a family now. A whole new world I could be a part of. This is the life I want, and I need to stop letting things get in the way of that.”
It’s what I’ve been beating myself up about ever since Malice broke into my apartment. With Olivia’s help, I can be somebody. I can do something with my life and leave all the bad shit I grew up with behind.
But I keep giving in to these men. Giving in to the part of me that can’t stay away from them, the part that craves their darkness.
And it’s maddening.
Ransom doesn’t say anything. He just rests his hand on my knee, and it’s like that simple touch unlocks the floodgates of all the things that have been building up in my head and heart since I met Olivia. Maybe even longer than that.
“I’ve always worked so hard,” I whisper, rubbing my hands over my face as I blink back more tears.
“So fucking hard to make sure I don’t become like my adoptive mother.
I wanted to go to school so badly because I felt like I needed an education to better myself.
I didn’t want to end up begging for money for drugs or sucking dick just to make ends meet.
I saw how terrible that life was, and I hated everything about it.
All I knew was that I had to be better. That I had to do more.
I was willing to do whatever it took. Take as many classes as I could, work however many hours I had to so I could pay my tuition. Anything.”
I drag in a deep breath, and Ransom rubs his thumb over my knee, a silent comfort by my side.
“And now suddenly, I’ve had this chance dropped in my lap,” I continue, my voice low.
“A chance to leave my old life behind, to have everything that I was working so hard for. Olivia could open so many doors for me, and she wants to! She wants to help me escape who I was and make things easier for me. And… and it’s like I’m trying to sabotage it! What the fuck is wrong with me?”
The last words come out louder than I mean for them to, and my voice rings off the tiles in the little bathroom.
My face gets hot all over again, and I want to turn away from Ransom, embarrassed that I let all of that out.
But he just squeezes my knee gently. “Angel, look at me.”
I shake my head, staring hard at the tile floor.
The hand on my knee doesn’t move, but with his other hand, he catches my chin between his fingers and thumb, tilting my head up so our gazes meet. There’s a serious, almost angry expression on his face, so different than his usual languid grin.
“Listen to me. There’s nothing wrong with you,” he says emphatically. “You don’t have to believe anything else my brothers or I say, but believe that. If you want to be in this life, to be a part of this world, then they’d be fucking lucky to have you.”
He hesitates for a second, shaking his head like he’s debating whether or not to say more. Finally, he continues on.
“But you shouldn’t let anyone try to change you.
You shouldn’t let anyone make you feel like you’re not already good enough.
Because you are. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.
And the sweetest. You’ve held onto your kindness, even when the world has no right to expect that from you. You’re already perfect.”
I blink up at him, my jaw falling open slightly in surprise. My heart is still racing, but it’s for a different reason now. Emotions are welling inside me again, but this time, they don’t feel quite so overwhelming.
“I’m pretty sure no one else out there thinks that,” I say, huffing a soft laugh as I glance toward the door and the rest of the museum.
Ransom raises his pierced eyebrow.
“Well, I can think of two people out there who definitely do,” he tells me. “And as for the rest? Fuck ’em. Like I said, they’re idiots if they can’t see what you’re worth, and that it has nothing to do with how much money you do or don’t have. It’s just… you.”
His words settle over me, and when I stare into his eyes, the color of the ocean on a bright day, I know he meant them.
He really does think all of those things about me.
Everything that happened between us before they made the video, everything I was feeling and thought they were starting to feel too? Maybe it wasn’t all a lie. Maybe it wasn’t fake.
“Thank you,” I whisper. They’re not really the right words, not big enough to encapsulate everything I want to say, but they’ll have to do for now.
Ransom smiles and releases my chin, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear before continuing the motion to cup my cheek. His palm is warm against my skin, and I can feel the faint roughness of his callouses.
It’s probably a bad idea, especially since he found me in here freaking out about letting my walls down with Malice, but I tilt my head up a little, my gaze dropping to his lips.
It’s been so long since he kissed me. I’ve missed the feeling of being consumed by him, as if I’m more precious than the air he breathes.
The little voice in the back of my head warning me to not do this grows quieter and quieter, and when I lean in, Ransom meets me halfway.
His mouth is warm and soft, the way it always was before everything went to shit. He kisses me gently at first, like he’s easing me into it, or maybe relearning the way it feels to do this, since it’s been a few weeks now.
But it doesn’t stay gentle for long.
I don’t know which one of us moves in closer first, but the kiss deepens quickly, getting more insistent and hotter, the hunger in both of us coming out.
I moan against Ransom’s mouth, and he groans in response, sliding his tongue against the seam of my lips. The second I part them, he delves inside my mouth, like he’s trying to memorize the way I taste all over again.
It makes my head spin, but it also feels strangely… comforting.
For a moment, the only thing that matters is the way his muscled body feels against mine as he pulls me closer on the bench.
I lose myself in the heat from everywhere we’re touching and the taste of champagne on his lips.
The way he kisses me deeply and then pulls back a bit to give me some room to breathe before diving right back in.
I’m not thinking about the party outside, or how I don’t fit in, or even Malice and his intense way of showing he misses me. My head is empty of anything but the pleasant, buzzing warmth that comes from being kissed really, really well.
That’s probably why it takes a minute for the noises from outside the bathroom to filter in.
Several raised voices from the main room catch my attention, and Ransom and I finally break apart, breathing hard as we stare at each other.
The voices get louder, anger and agitation clear in them, and worry floods me.
Fuck. Whatever the Voronin brothers came here to do—has it gone wrong?