Chapter 25 Victor #2
“No, you’re right about that, but that’s not what I mean,” I say.
I start pacing a little, letting the idea grow in my mind.
“We won’t use those jobs for blackmail against her.
Instead, we can use them to find people who have reason to be enemies with Olivia.
Every job she sent us on, she was fucking someone over, right?
So we follow those breadcrumbs, and we find someone who hates her just as much as we do.
One of them might be able to help us take her down.
Even the odds, so that there are more than just four of us to pull off this attack. ”
Ransom and Malice nod, both looking thoughtful.
“That’s a place to start, at least,” Ransom says, scrubbing at the back of his head. “Getting outside help with this might be our best bet.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Willow asks, chewing her lip.
She still seems uncertain and worried, and I wish I could take that away from her. I know what it’s like to feel as if the rug has been ripped out from under you entirely.
“It’s the best idea we have right now,” I tell her, reaching out to squeeze her hand.
“And it’s relatively low-risk, all things considered.
Olivia already knows we won’t take this lying down, so she’s going to be expecting something to happen.
The only way we’ll have a chance is if we do something she’s not expecting.
We just have to hope we can find someone with a big enough grudge against her. ”
“Olivia Stanton is a heartless cunt,” Malice spits. “We’ll find someone who hates her. Shouldn’t be too hard. She’s probably fucked over countless people to get what she wants.”
“So that’s the plan?” Ransom asks, practically bouncing on his toes like he can’t wait to get started.
“Yes.” Malice nods immediately.
I do too, and when we all turn to look at Willow, she dips her chin once in agreement.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Let’s do it.”
I turn, heading for my office to start sifting through information. As I go, I call over my shoulder to Ransom.
“You and Malice work on upping the security of this place. We have to be on our guard. Olivia gave Willow time to make her decision, but we can’t trust that she’ll actually uphold her word. I’ll go see what I can find from the jobs we’ve done for her.”
Ransom nods grimly, and we split up, each moving quickly to handle our respective tasks.
It’s not an easy search.
A lot of the jobs we’ve done for Olivia were crimes against white collar businesses or up and comers in the Detroit business world.
And although some of those people might be pissed as hell to find out that Olivia Stanton sabotaged them, they’re not exactly the types who’d be most likely to want to help people like us—or to be much help, even if they wanted to.
We need to find someone more like us.
Someone familiar with violence, who’s lived and breathed it and has it in their bones.
We’re looking for a needle in a haystack here, and there’s plenty to sift through.
It takes more than a few days of constant work to go through our previous correspondences with X and cross reference them with my notes and recon for each job we did.
Ransom and Malice work to reinforce security on the condo, and we keep Willow close the whole time, refusing to let her leave our little hideout. Just to be safe.
She bears it well enough for the first couple of days, but by the time we’re closing in on day five, I can tell she’s starting to get antsy.
She feels trapped, I’m sure, and I get that. But there’s no way around it. We can’t let anything happen to her. Because none of us can live without her, and it’s obvious that the gloves are completely off with Olivia now.
I’ve set up my command center in the room I’ve taken over as my office. It’s barely furnished except for a desk and a nice office chair, along with the multiple computers and screens that I use to get shit done.
I’ve been in here almost all day every day since we made the decision to try to eliminate Olivia.
The last time I spent this much uninterrupted time at my computers was when we were trying to find Willow after Troy stole her from us, and pulling long hours now brings back uncomfortable memories of that time.
My side has healed up well, but the scar from the bullet wound twinges sometimes as I work, as if my entire body is being transported back to those awful, soul-crushing days of searching for the woman we love.
After closing the most recent file I’ve been studying, I lean back in my chair and roll my neck. I blink a few times, feeling the strain in my eyes, then rest my hand on the mouse again. As I open another file, Willow wanders into the room.
The door is off to one side, so I barely pick up the movement in my periphery, but I’m instantly aware of her presence. It seems to fill the room, and I look over at her.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “I just miss you. You’ve been in here so much lately.”
I smile, feeling the curl of pleasure in my stomach. I like that she missed me. I like that she’s been thinking of me.
And she’s right. I have been spending almost every waking hour in here, so I turn in my chair, putting the monitors at my back. I can take a small break to give her all my focus.
Seeing that makes her brighten, a little bit of color returning to her pale cheeks. She’s been strung-out and on edge, small circles growing under her eyes, and it makes me worry about her.
“How are you holding up?” I ask. “I know this can’t be easy for you.”
She sighs, scrunching up her nose. “Is it that obvious?”
“If you know how to look for it, yes.”
“And you know how to look for everything,” she murmurs, but she doesn’t sound put out about it. “You read me so well. You see everything.”
“I still want to hear it from you,” I tell her.
She seems to think about it for a moment, and then sighs again. “I don’t know. I just… I was just starting to feel like I was in control, you know? Like I was getting my strength back and feeling more like myself after… everything.”
I nod, not needing her to elaborate on what she means by that. None of us are likely to forget anytime soon. “And now this is a setback.”
“Yeah. The steady footing I had, it feels like it’s slipping away. Like I’m losing control of my own life, and I hate it. I was supposed to be getting better, but this is like three steps back. I’m always looking over my shoulder, jittery all the time, worried about what might happen.”
I nod, understanding where she’s coming from.
After all, maintaining tight, unbending control of my life and my emotions is something I worked on really fucking hard over the years.
So I get what it feels like to feel that slip away.
Even though I’ve let go of some of that when it comes to Willow, there are other parts that I’ll probably always need, just to keep myself from falling back into the darkness that tries to claim me sometimes.
“You haven’t lost that progress,” I promise her. “Recovery isn’t a switch you can flip. It’s an ongoing process. Even when you were feeling better, you still had nightmares, right?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs.
“But you still felt like you were getting somewhere. You were making progress despite the setbacks.”
She nods.
I tap my fingers on my leg, ordering my thoughts. “You know how I’ve struggled with things. I struggled for years with the baggage from what happened to me. Even after I met you, and I wanted to open up and wanted to touch you and everything else, I couldn’t for a long time.”
“I know,” she murmurs. “But you still made a lot of progress. You worked up to it.”
“Exactly,” I tell her, nodding.
She blinks, seeming to get my point. Her smile is tentative, but so beautiful. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For trying so hard. For working to get where you are. So we can be where we are now.”
“Of course. I would do anything for you.”
I mean it. There’s no hesitation or doubt in my words. And as I speak, a thought sparks in the back of my mind.
I hesitate for a second, working it over in my mind. It’s a good idea, I’m pretty sure, and although it’s something new to me, I did just tell Willow that I’d do anything for her. This is a small thing in the grand scheme of it all.
So I get up from my chair and start to head for the door. “Come with me.”
Willow frowns, clearly confused, but she follows me to the bedroom where the massive bed we’ve all been sharing sits against one wall.
“What are we doing in here?” she wants to know.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her, then stride out and head for another room that’s become a sort of storage room. Our growing collection of gear and weaponry is stashed in this room, and I go to a bin where I remember Ransom tossing a coil of rope.
I pull it out and return to the bedroom, and when Willow sees me walk in with the rope held in my hands, her eyebrows shoot upward. I see a flicker of recognition in her eyes, and I’m sure she’s thinking of the last time the two of us used a rope in a bedroom.
It was the first time I fucked her.
When she let me tie her up.
But instead of telling her to get on the bed, I hand her the rope and then crawl onto the firm mattress myself. I lie down on the middle of it, then look over at her expectantly.
Her mouth falls open, a tiny gasp falling from her lips.
“Vic, are you saying…”
I nod at her. “I want you to tie me up, just like you had me do to you once. It’s a small thing, but maybe it will help you take back your control right now. It helped me.”
Her eyes go wide, and I can tell she’s shocked that I’m offering. Honestly, a part of me is surprised by it too. There was definitely a time when this would’ve been the last thing I would have given to anyone. But it’s different with Willow. I know her. I trust her. And this might help.
“Are you sure?” she breathes, sliding the soft rope through her hands. “You don’t have to do this, Vic..”