Chapter 19 Victor
VICTOR
Olivia practically drags Willow away, and I watch her go, my gaze glued to her.
Malice and Ransom are beside me, and I can feel the tension and irritation rolling off them strongly enough to taint the air. I can’t judge them for that. I’m just as irritated, being here, seeing the way Willow’s grandmother treats her like a pawn. It’s sickening.
I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I count out the taps of my fingers against my crossed arms, and when that doesn’t work, I start mentally rearranging the decor in the room, sorting it into something more pleasing to my brain.
But that’s not really doing the trick either.
It’s not a surprise. For the past several weeks, my usual ways of keeping my emotions under control haven’t been working as well. I keep feeling things more than I’m used to, getting slapped across the face with some emotion out of nowhere, with nothing to do but try to ride out the wave of it.
It’s as if Willow ripped my skin off, and now everything is touching the raw heart of me. Sometimes it feels good, like when I’m with her. I don’t want a layer of separation there, I just want to feel her and be with her.
But sometimes it feels fucking awful. It makes me feel like there’s an electric current inside me, or a hot poker being pressed right up against my nerves, making it impossible to calm down or find my usual focus.
“Fuck this shit,” Malice mutters under his breath beside me. “Look at these assholes.”
Ransom and I take in the guests with him, gazing around the room at the who’s who in Detroit’s upper echelon. Unsurprisingly, they’re almost all scum.
Colin DeVry is there, the piece of shit who thought he could get away with assaulting Willow, and I know Malice hates him in particular.
“Breaking his fingers wasn’t enough,” my twin growls. “Should’ve broken his face in while I was at it.”
“Well, don’t do that here,” Ransom cautions, shooting him a look. “I know you hate this, we all do, but we need to keep our shit together. We’re here as insurance, but we’ve got our own agenda, remember?”
Malice drags in a deep breath and then nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
Ransom is right. If we get kicked out of here, then we won’t be able to do what we came here to do.
There’s some commotion near the front of the room, and when I look over, I see that the ‘man of the hour’ has arrived.
Troy Copeland comes striding in, and some people go so far as to applaud his appearance. My lips press together as I watch people move forward to greet him, shaking his hand and clapping him on the back.
He soaks up the attention with a sly, pompous expression on his face, and then Willow is ushered over to him by her grandmother, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.
Olivia says something to Willow that I can’t hear before giving her a little push forward.
Willow moves in, smiling thinly at Troy, and then leans in and kisses him right on the lips in greeting.
I don’t have to look at Malice to feel the rage coming off him. It’s practically searing into my skin with its intensity.
Ransom clutches his glass so hard it’s probably about to shatter in his hand, and I take a deep breath, trying again to keep my own feelings in line.
“It’s fake,” I remind them in a low voice. “She doesn’t want to be doing this anymore than we want her to. It’s all a lie.”
In the back of my mind, I know I’m convincing myself as well as them. My own jealous possessiveness is there, roaring up, making me want to march over there and yank Willow away from that piece of shit.
Or fuck her in front of all these people so they’ll know who she belongs to.
That thought surprises me, and I shake myself a little, not giving in or going down that path. Not right now.
I keep my eyes on Willow instead, watching as she greets people at Troy’s side. Her smiles are tight and forced, and I wonder if any of them can tell. Or if they even care.
Finally, after almost half an hour of schmoozing, Willow slips away from Troy’s side.
“I see my opportunity,” I murmur to my brothers and then melt into the crowd, following Willow at a distance.
She walks into the ladies’ room, a single occupancy bathroom, and I pick up speed to follow, shoving the door open wider to slip inside after her.
Willow startles, whipping around, but when she sees that it’s just me, her face relaxes a little.
“What are you doing?” she whispers. “We can’t—”
“I got your text about the safe,” I tell her, speaking low and fast. “And I did some research based on the info and the picture you sent. It’s a top of the line brand, no surprise there, but it’s not uncrackable.”
“Really?”
“Really.” I pull a small device out of my pocket and show it to her. “This will help you crack it. She has an electronic keypad, and this will run every possible combination. It’ll take a few minutes, but it should get you in.”
Willow sucks in a breath, staring at me for a second, her brown eyes wide. Then she makes a quiet noise and throws her arms around me.
My body reacts instantly. My cock stiffens in my pants, every inch of me on fire from her touch.
I hesitate, not really sure what to do as tension crawls through me, my pulse picking up.
My fingers flex and extend, and instead of burying them in her hair like I want to do, I end up giving her a loose pat on the back.
Maybe she can tell that this is awkward for me, because she pulls back, smiling a little sheepishly.
“Sorry,” she murmurs.
“No, it’s… it’s fine. I was just surprised.”
“Thank you for doing this. I didn’t know how I was going to get into that safe otherwise.”
I nod, smiling at her. “Of course. It’s what I do. Thank you for sending me that last piece of information. I wouldn’t have been able to work it out without that.”
I give her a quick rundown on how to use the device, and she repeats the instructions back to me, letting me know that she understands. The look on her face is serious and intent.
When I pass the device to her, our fingers brush as she takes it. Just that little touch has sensation shooting up my arm, and I suck in a breath as I watch her tuck the small object into her cleavage.
Judging from the light flush on her cheeks, she noticed that as well.
She looks back up at me once the device is stashed away in her dress, and suddenly, that possessiveness I felt outside in the main room comes rushing back. Unsure what I’m doing, but unable to stop myself, I lean in and press my lips lightly to hers.
It’s just a small kiss, barely more contact than the brush of our hands a moment ago, but it’s as if someone has poured pure fire into my veins.
There’s an immediate explosion of sensation, a jumble of feelings I don’t even know how to identify or control.
My heart races, my already hard cock throbbing in my pants, every part of my body demanding more.
It’s too much, and I’m already too close to the edge.
I’m losing control, staring over the edge of the abyss and wondering how bad the fall will be.
I have to pull away, and we both stumble back a little as if it took physical strength to separate ourselves. I’m breathing hard, my nostrils flared as I suck in air through my nose.
Willow seems breathless too, and I want to say something to her—whether to apologize for kissing her like this, or to apologize for stopping, I’m not sure.
But I can’t find the words, so I just take another step back, clearing my throat as I try to quell the torrent of feelings rushing through me.
“I’ll… leave first,” I tell her, my voice so strained that I barely recognize it.
Willow nods, the specks of gold in her brown eyes seeming to glint as she stares at me. Before I can get lost in their depths, I turn and slip out, leaving her alone in the bathroom.