Chapter 31 Victor
VICTOR
As Malice bites out several more curses beside me, I glance around the room, taking in the scene quickly.
Willow is partially obscured by the couch, with the man who was about to shoot her lying dead in a heap a few feet away. Blood spreads across the cream colored carpet, staining it a deep crimson.
The other two men are down too. Ransom got one of them, and Malice took out the other while I shot the bastard who was gunning to kill Willow.
Fury lances through me at the memory of him standing over her, and even though I know it’s pointless and will only make more of a mess, I stride forward quickly, put my gun right to his temple, and spatter his brains across the floor—just to be goddamned sure he never gets the chance to touch her again.
“Shit,” Ransom says, panting hard as he tugs his pants back into place. “Thank fucking god you two got back when you did. Guess it was a good thing you were speeding.”
It’s almost a joke, since we all know exactly why Malice was driving so fast. He drove like a maniac because he wanted to get home and fuck her senseless, not because he thought he’d show up to find Ransom and Willow fighting for their lives.
But nothing about this is funny, so no one laughs.
Instead, Malice kicks the body of one of the downed men, clearly needing to let out his extra adrenaline and aggression somehow.
“What the fuck happened?” he snarls.
His anger is bright and fierce, and even though I’m usually more collected than he is, I feel an answering rage in my chest. This place was supposed to be safe. We increased security, set up alarms. But three people got in and almost managed to kill Ransom and Willow.
“Your alarm worked, Vic,” Ransom says, flicking a glance my way. “They got into the building, but we had warning before they reached the penthouse. It was enough to keep us alive. We would’ve been sitting ducks otherwise.”
“Olivia. This has to be her doing. She got impatient when Willow wasn’t coming out, so she sent these fuckers to do her dirty work and break in here. This bitch wants her money that bad.” Malice shakes his head, scowling down at the body of the attacker nearest to him.
I step over the man I just shot and go to Willow, reaching out a hand to help her up.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly.
She swallows hard, nodding. I’m glad my alarm system gave them some advance warning, but it’s clear that the whole thing happened fast. She and Ransom didn’t even have time to get dressed before these assholes came bursting in on them.
Her pants are around her ankles, and I reach down to tug them up, helping her get dressed as she clings to me.
I can feel her hands shaking, and when she exhales, the breath seems to shudder out of her lungs.
“I… he was just…” She tightens her grip, staring at my face as I deftly zip up and button her pants. “He almost killed me, Vic. He would have if you hadn’t…”
“I know,” I tell her, my voice tight. “But he’s dead now.”
She came close to dying, honestly. Too fucking close. She was unarmed, staring down the barrel of that gun, and if we hadn’t gotten here when we did…
I shake my head, not wanting to finish that thought. I can’t focus on it, or I’ll lose every scrap of control I have.
Willow seems to be of the same mind, because she stiffens her shoulders and takes another deep breath.
I can see the fear and worry edging out of her eyes, leaving behind conviction and determination.
She’s gathering her strength, letting this incident firm her resolve against her grandmother instead of breaking her down.
That’s one of the things I love most about her.
Nothing can break this woman.
“Get his mask off,” Malice tells Ransom, gesturing to the body closest to our brother. They each take a body, tugging the masks off, and I release Willow so that I can reach down and do the same to the man leaking blood and brain matter into the carpet.
I have to maneuver the mask a little to get it off his mangled head, and as soon as I do, I let out a harsh breath.
Across the room, Ransom makes a noise of displeasure, and Malice explodes to his feet, hurling the mask in his hand against the wall.
“Ethan fucking Donovan!” he rages, kicking the body again.
I look from the man at my feet—whom I recognize as one of Donovan’s men—and look over to see the familiar face of Donovan himself. He’s the one sprawled out near Malice, and another one of his seconds lies near Ransom.
“Still in Olivia’s pocket, I guess,” Ransom mutters, his lips curling with disgust. “She either offered him a lot of money, or she had something she was holding over him the same way she did to us. Hell, if he didn’t hate us so fucking much—and if he weren’t dead—he almost would’ve been a good candidate to help us go up against her. ”
“Well, he’s not helping us with shit now,” Malice bites out.
He kicks Ethan’s body again, harder this time, and I wince. It’s not because I object to violence against a dead body, especially not a slimy asshole like Ethan Donovan. But every time Malice jars his body, more blood leaks out of him.
The living room is a complete mess. Bodies and blood everywhere, the couch all shot up, glass broken and bullet holes in the walls. I hate it.
“We should get out of here before someone calls the cops,” I say, glancing between my brothers.
“We increased security as much as we could, but obviously, it wasn’t enough.
In a building like this, with multiple ways in and out, I couldn’t tighten things up enough.
We need to go somewhere else. Someplace Olivia will have a harder time finding us. ”
“You think moving will keep us safer?” Ransom asks, crouching by the body of Donovan’s second and rifling through his pockets.
“It’s all relative at this point. She’s getting impatient and closing in.
Nothing will make us safe, but we just need to buy ourselves enough time to make our move against her and take her out of the picture.
Even if we’re only one step ahead of her, we need to stay one step ahead until this is over. ”
Willow wraps her arms around herself, her gaze darting around the living room. I know this place once belonged to Troy, so it’s not like she’s emotionally attached to it in that sense. But it’s also the place where the four of us created a small, makeshift version of a home for ourselves.
It’s not Troy’s any longer. It’s ours.
And I hate that once again, Olivia is forcing us out.
“Okay.” Malice rubs a hand over his jaw, leaving a small streak of blood.
“Ten minutes. That’s all we’ve got. Grab all the shit we’re gonna need, and let’s clean this place up.
We’ve gotta get these bodies out of here too.
And Vic, I want a full perimeter check. Make sure there isn’t an ambush waiting outside for us. ”
I nod, and we all spring into action. Ransom grabs the spare duffel bags we bought and starts packing up weapons and ammo first, then goes through and gets clothes and basic toiletries, anything we might need.
Malice strips the sheets from the bed and comes back to roll the bodies of the dead men in them for us to take down to the car.
I clean up as much as I can, making a face at all the blood. The carpet is probably ruined, and I make a mental note that if we ever do come back here, I want it all ripped out anyway.
Willow grabs her things, quiet and withdrawn, and I find myself hoping that this will be the last time she’ll have to vacate an apartment where someone died.
We take everything down to the car, stuffing the bodies into the trunk and throwing our shit into the back seat.
It’s a tight fit, the vehicle so crammed full that Willow has to crawl onto Ransom’s lap in the back seat, where he wraps his arms around her protectively.
I take my usual spot in the front passenger seat as Malice gets behind the wheel.
As we peel out, I wipe the security footage from the penthouse and the surrounding areas, just in case Olivia tries to use that to find out where we went.
“Keep your eye out for a tail,” I murmur to Malice. “Anyone following us.”
“On it.” He nods, already glancing in the rearview mirror. “We’re clean.”
“She’s probably expecting Ethan to check in at some point. When he doesn’t, she’ll figure out that the hit went sideways.”
“Fuck, I wish I could see the look on her face when she finds out her pet goon is dead,” Ransom says bitterly.
“And with their leader out of the picture, dead thanks to Olivia’s bullshit, I bet she won’t be able to keep the rest of the Donovan crew under her thumb.
They weren’t that tight of a gang in the first place, and without Donovan to hold them together, they’ll fall apart like leaves in the wind”
I nod, my fingers flying over the keys as sidewalks and buildings whiz past us outside. “Good point. That’s one threat gone, at least. But we don’t know how long that will last, so we can’t get comfortable. She could have other gangs or hired mercenaries on deck.”
“Where are we going?” Willow asks, craning her neck to look around the seat. “Another hotel?”
I shake my head. “No, that won’t be safe enough either. We need a place away from people.”
“I made a call while we were packing up,” Malice informs her.
“We still have some contacts from the chop shop days who owe us for work we did on an IOU. One of them set us up with a safe house. It’s off the beaten path, so hopefully that’ll help keep us off the radar. It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll do.”
Willow nods, falling silent again.
When we reach the safe house, it’s exactly like Malice said. It’s a small place, just two bedrooms, a kitchen, a small living area, and a bathroom. After the time we spent in the penthouse, this is definitely a downgrade, but that’s not what matters right now.
We unload the car, and then Malice and Ransom go to drop the bodies. I stay behind, getting my computers set up and keeping an eye on Willow.
She doesn’t say much at first, but there’s an agitation in her that’s almost palpable. She paces around the small living room almost like she’s Malice, walking the perimeter to keep an eye out for threats.
“Willow,” I say, dragging her out of her thoughts and making her look at me. “Are you alright?”
She sighs and finally comes to a stop. “Yeah. I mean… I just kind of hate this, honestly.”
“The house?”
“No, just… all of it. I hate that we have to keep leaving places behind in a hurry. I hate that this feels like we’re on the run again. We were doing so well. We had the high ground for one goddamned second—and now Olivia has us running again.”
“I know it must feel like that,” I tell her. “But this isn’t the same. We’re in a much different situation than we were last time. We had to run today, yes, but this isn’t a step backward, even if it feels like it is.”
“I guess so. I just hate that it feels like no matter what we do, she always wins. She always holds all the cards. No one has ever been able to make me feel as… helpless as she does.”
“You are not helpless,” I say firmly. “Listen to me. You are so much stronger than you know, butterfly.”
“When that man came at me with that gun, I froze,” she admits, swallowing. “In that split second, it was like my body just went numb. I didn’t know what to do. I definitely felt helpless then.”
“We’re always going to protect you,” I vow. “But would it help if I taught you some ways to defend yourself?”
She licks her lips, considering. “Okay.”
We push the dusty couch out of the way to give us more space, and I run Willow through some basic self-defense drills.
We keep it light, considering she’s pregnant, but I give her the information she can use if she needs it.
I point out all the sensitive places on a person that she can go for, showing her how to jab someone in the throat or the solar plexus.
“And if it’s a person with a dick, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how to incapacitate them for long enough to get away.”
She laughs at that, and even if the sound is a bit strained, it feels like progress.
I show her how to get out of a headlock and how to keep someone from choking her out.
When I wrap my arm around her throat to demonstrate a move, her hair tickles my skin, her scent invading my nostrils as I inhale.
Being pressed up behind her makes my body respond, my cock going half hard just from this proximity to her.
It’s not as intense as it used to be, like the time I kissed her in the kitchen and couldn’t help but come in my pants, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to touch her and not have a reaction.
My cheeks flush when I realize she can probably feel my cock twitching against her ass.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “It’s… an automatic response at this point.”
“It’s okay.” She makes no move to pull away, reaching up instead to grip my forearm. “I don’t mind. I’ve never minded, Vic. I like that you react this way to me.”
“No one else has ever done this to me,” I admit. “I’ve always been so good at controlling my reactions. There’s just something about you that makes that impossible.”
She sighs, turning in my arms and leaning up to kiss me lightly.
It’s just a brush of lips, but it still makes my heart rate speed up and my cock harden even more.
If we had time, if things weren’t so tense right now, I’d be tempted to follow the sensation, to press Willow against my body again and let her feel exactly how much I want her.
But there are other things to focus on right now.
“We’re going to live through this,” I say, my voice low. “Someday, we won’t have to worry so much about just staying alive. And then I’m going to fuck you every single day, just because I can.”
“Is that a promise?”
She smiles, hope lighting in her eyes, and I nod. “It’s a vow.”