Chapter 35 Willow
WILLOW
The flames leap and snap around me, the heat pressing in against my skin. I feel like I’m being seared from the inside out, and the fear in my chest, mixed with the smoke billowing around me, makes it hard to breathe.
I know I have to get away. Every frantic beat of my heart reminds me of that, and I start running, trying not to lose my footing or end up tumbling as the old, rotted wood goes up in flames quickly.
I can hear Ilya coming after me, the thunder of his feet on the floor, and I don’t even dare to look back. I keep my eyes facing forward, afraid to turn around and see him too close.
But out of the corner of my eye, something else catches my attention. A dark, twisted shape in the shadows. It’s not Ilya, who I can still hear behind me, but when I look closer, the shadow turns into the shape of a man, stepping out of the darkness and moving in close.
My heart stutters, and I jump at the sight of him, startled and caught off guard. I don’t know who he is, and I can’t make out his features. But it doesn’t really matter. My goal is still the same.
Get the fuck out of here and get away.
I run as fast as I can, the desperation to escape this building before it comes crumbling down around me pushing me to move faster and faster. I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to be caught or burned alive.
I have to get out.
I have to—
The dream slips away, and I wake up with a soft gasp. My heart is pounding just as hard as it was in my nightmare, and I press a hand over my chest, taking deep breaths to try to calm myself down.
Gradually, the fear and the phantom feeling of heat on my skin start to go away, and I lie back, staring up at the ceiling with a frown on my face.
I’ve been having the dreams about Ilya off and on since the night he kidnapped me, but this is the first time someone else has been there. Which doesn’t make much sense. Why am I dreaming about some other man?
I didn’t recognize him as someone from school or any of the other terrible men I’ve met in my life, but it could have been any of them, I guess.
Maybe my subconscious is pulling different men who’ve scared me in the past into that one nightmare.
Maybe it was a john of my mom’s or something, someone I don’t remember by face, but my mind remembers as being worthy of being afraid of.
It’s hard to say, and I don’t have time to lie around dwelling on it.
It’s morning, only a few minutes before my alarm is set to go off, so I slide out of bed and turn it off early.
Then I pad into the bathroom to take a shower, washing away the last remnants of the cold fear sweat and getting ready to head to school.
Classes are easy. I turn in a couple of assignments I’ve been working on, and when the day finally wraps up, I get in my car and drive to Olivia’s house.
“Willow!”
She welcomes me with the same warmth she always does, and there’s no sign that she’s upset with me for Misty coming over and making an ass of herself.
But once we’re settled in the massive living room, I can’t help but bring it up.
“I’m so sorry about what happened with my mom,” I tell her, my stomach twisting.
“I don’t know why she thought that was an okay thing to do.
I don’t know what goes on in her head most of the time, honestly.
But she promised me she was going to stop doing stuff like that after what happened at the museum. ”
“It isn’t your fault,” Olivia says, her voice calm. “I know you’ve been doing your best with her, and her actions are not reflective upon you.”
It’s hard to believe that, especially knowing that in the circles my grandmother travels in, family and breeding and all of that means a lot. People would definitely judge me for the things my adoptive mom has done—hell, they probably already do.
“Still,” I say. “If she ever does anything like that again, please let me know. I tried to tell her how out of line it was, but I don’t know if it got through to her. I blew up at her and cut ties, which I probably should’ve done a long time ago.”
“You had your reasons for not doing so, I’m sure.” Olivia laces her fingers together on her lap. “She was all you had for a long time, so I understand why you didn’t. And the offer to help her with rehab still stands.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, my lips shaking a little as I smile at her.
Olivia pats my hand, then brightens.
“Oh, I have something I want to show you,” she says, getting up and walking over to a shelf on the wall. “I dug this out the other day, and I thought you would like to see it.”
That perks me up, and I watch as she comes back over with a photo album. She sits down next to me, and we flip through it together, starting from the front, where she shows me pictures of my father when he was a kid.
“Curtis was a rambunctious boy.” Olivia chuckles, tracing her fingers over a picture of him covered in mud and grinning brightly.
He looks a bit like me, with a similarly shaped nose and dark blond hair.
“He always liked to run and play, and we’d find him outside in the dirt more often than not.
It drove his teachers mad sometimes, but he was still at the top of his classes. ”
She turns a page, smiling at a picture of my dad standing with a much younger version of herself. The two of them have massive ice cream cones in their hands, and they look like they’re on a beach somewhere, enjoying themselves.
She shows me photo after photo, and I take them all in, listening to her stories about where they were taken and what they were doing.
I’ll never get to know my dad, but seeing these snippets of his life feels like I’m getting a part of him back.
Obviously, my childhood was different than his, but when I look at the pictures, I can see certain similarities.
The way his eyes crinkle at the corner when he smiles brightly.
Something in the line of his jaw and the slight upturn of his nose.
It makes me feel warm to think that we might have been similar, even in little ways.
“He’s always smiling so much,” I murmur, reaching out to touch the plastic over one of the pictures lightly.
Olivia nods. “He was happy. We tried to give him anything he could have wanted, and he thrived for a good long while.”
There’s a hitch in her voice, and I can tell she’s getting misty-eyed just talking about this. She clearly misses her son, and I’m sure that now that her husband is dead too, she feels lonely without her family.
I can understand how that feels.
“Willow,” she murmurs, looking at me. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Sure.” I straighten up. “What’s going on?”
She doesn’t seem upset, but there’s still a little flutter in my stomach, because this feels like it’s about to be something serious.
“As you know, I was more than happy to get you back into school, since that’s what you wanted,” she says. “But the truth is, you don’t need to go.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I would like you to help me run the Stanton estate. It’s just been me here in this big house since my husband died, and I want to bring you into the fold. You’re family, and I can’t think of anyone else more perfect for the job.”
My jaw falls open slightly. That’s definitely not where I saw this conversation going.
“What… what would that entail?” I ask.
“Well, there would be no need for you to get a degree, since you won’t need it to apply for a job. You would work with me, managing the holdings and business interests of the estate, and when I die, it would all pass on to you.”
“Wow,” I breathe, not sure what else to say.
“I would also love to see you get married and start a family of your own.” Olivia smiles, hope shining in her eyes. “Joshua seems very taken with you. And I… well, after so many years of thinking I would have no legacy, the idea of great-grandchildren running around this place just makes me smile.”
Joshua.
Shit, I still haven’t told him I’m really not interested in doing a raincheck on our cancelled date. So maybe my grandmother still thinks there might be something between us.
But marriage… children. And leaving school?
I sit in silence for a second, a bit floored by her offer.
I don’t even know what to say—there’s this whole life, a whole world that my grandmother is offering to me.
I could learn how to help her manage the estate, learn about the businesses and investments that she has, and then it sounds like I would take over running them someday.
I would truly become a part of the world I’ve been dancing around the edges of ever since Olivia met me at the hospital that night.
It’s so generous, but at the same time, it feels a little overwhelming.
Like too much all at once. Being financially stable, having a family?
Those are things I’ve wanted my whole life.
Taking Olivia’s offer would basically make sure that there’s no chance I’ll ever end up like Misty, which has been my biggest fear for a long time.
But it’s a lot, trying to decide the path my life will take in one afternoon.
Olivia watches me, and I hesitate, still not sure what to say.
“You don’t need to answer now,” she reassures me, smiling.
“But I’ve been alone for a while now, and it’s not like I’m getting any younger.
” She laughs softly. “I’d like to know that my family estate will live on, that the Stanton name will continue, and that you’ll be taken care of by a well-connected man. One who’s worthy of you.”
She gives me a look when she says that, and I fight the urge to blush. She clearly has certain ideas about what would make a man worthy of me.
“Thank you for everything,” I tell her. “Really. I don’t know where I’d be without you now, and the fact that you want me to help you run the estate… it means so much to me. That you’d trust me with that. I’ll definitely think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.” Olivia pulls me into a hug, and I go easily, leaning into her soft embrace.
“Sometimes I can’t believe it,” she murmurs.
“After your father died, I tried to make peace with having no children or grandchildren—but I always felt that hole in my life. I always felt the absence. I’m so grateful you’re here. ”
A lump rises in my throat, and my eyes sting with unshed tears.
It feels like all my life, I’ve been waiting for someone to want me like this.
To want me just because I’m family and they care about me, not because they can use me for their own ends.
It’s so different from how Misty always makes me feel, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to adequately express my gratitude to Olivia.
When she pulls back, I clear my throat, trying to get ahold of myself so I don’t start crying in her parlor.
“I’m grateful too,” I tell her. “I’m so, so glad I met you. Not just because of how much you’ve helped me, but because I’ve wanted a real family for so long.”
She nods. “I often find myself wishing that I could’ve found you sooner, but we can make the best of the time we have now.
And I want you to know that your father and your grandfather would have been so proud of the person you’ve become.
And your birth mother too, in her own way.
You’ve worked hard for everything you have, and your life has been difficult, but you are still such a strong young woman. ”
I stare down at my lap, laughing a little. “You’re going to make me cry all over your nice couch,” I warn.
She chuckles, shaking her head. “Alright, I’ll stop. But I mean every word.”
We chat for a while longer, and then I head out, hugging Olivia one more time before I go to my car.
The drive back to my apartment feels faster than usual, probably because my head is so full of thoughts. I keep mulling over what Olivia said and what she offered me, and how it’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
It’s all on the table now, all those things I’ve wanted forever… but it feels more confusing than I thought it would. Less appealing than I expected it to be.
I pull up to my building, and as I pull the key from the ignition, I catch sight of a familiar motorcycle out front with an even more familiar man on it.
Ransom grins and gives me a little wave, and I grin right back, tucking my keys away and getting out of the car.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
Rather than answering my question, he jerks his chin toward the back of his bike.
“Hop on.”
But I don’t argue. I just climb onto the back of his motorcycle, wrapping my arms around his muscled torso. My heart races as he revs the engine and peels out.