Chapter 8
Eight
WILLOW
After our interaction at the gym three days ago, I’d barely seen Kaelen.
I wondered if he regretted his admission, his words playing over and over again in my mind.
The right omega.
His phone had rung then, slicing through the intensity and popping whatever bubble hung around us. He disappeared into his office, and I hid in my room, confused.
Confused about my feelings, my omega, and him. I wanted to trust him. To believe that he wasn’t like my dad.
My gut twisted as I tossed and turned that night. Dreams of a handsome alpha with tattoos and long auburn hair played on repeat, making my sleep fitful.
The next morning, his scent lingered in my room, a new iPhone on the end table. Did Kaelen sneak in while I slept? It unnerved and excited me. I texted Sam, happy to see all my contacts were there and the home screen looked exactly like my old one.
My thumb landed on the Safari icon, and I Googled Kaelen Finnegan. No social media accounts popped up, but article after article loaded on the bright screen. Everything from stories about his philanthropic efforts with the Children’s Hospital to his businesses.
On the surface, he was a respectable businessman who had immigrated from Ireland when he was fifteen. He owned over a dozen Irish pubs and a handful of nightclubs throughout Boston.
The deeper I dove, the clearer the darker side of Kaelen’s business emerged.
One article from two years ago detailed his trial after being arrested for murder. The crime had been brutal. A disemboweled man was found strung up outside an abandoned building. Kaelen had been found not guilty but had earned the moniker of “The Butcher of Boston.”
There had been minimal evidence, and it looked to be more a vindictive cop than a solid case, at least according to Kaelen’s lawyer.
The jury agreed.
I was more curious than terrified, wondering whether he had done it or not.
I kept waiting for my heart to race, for panic to set it, but it never came. Despite who he was, what he was capable of, I saw glimpses of someone different. Someone I craved and my omega adored.
Maybe not just my omega.
After the sun set, I heard his heavy footsteps pad outside my door before vanishing into his own room. More than once, he stopped in front of my door, his shadow blocking out the muted light from the hall. My omega woke, urging me to invite him in.
Eventually, his figure left, and a hollow ache grew behind my breasts.
The next morning, light flooded my bedroom, making it impossible to sleep any later. I reached for my phone, double-checking that Sam and I were still on for our date.
A sleepy glaze slid across my face when she confirmed. Having lunch with my best friend would be a normal thing. Something I needed when my life had been out of control for the last few weeks.
Like he promised, Kaelen had filled my closet with new clothes, ranging from jeans to sundresses and heels to ballgowns. It was too much. I would never wear more than half of it. Smooth silk and chiffon brushed against my fingertips as I ran them over a fitted sapphire dress with a thigh-high slit.
Crystals glittered on the bodice, and it was probably worth more than anything I have ever owned before. Maybe someday I would have an excuse to wear it.
I glanced out the windows, eyeing the cloudless sky, which gave the illusion that it was warmer than it was.
Brightly colored leaves decorated the trees.
I tugged on a pair of black tights before slipping into a burgundy dress.
The material whispered over my skin as I smoothed my hand over the invisible creases.
Grabbing my phone, I headed down to one of the four living spaces, trying to find Torin.
Despite Kaelen telling me I was free to come and go as I wished as long as I took Torin with me, today was the first time I was going to test that theory.
I still got lost even though I had spent the last few days exploring the house.
My new home.
Once I realized I wasn’t trapped in one room, it felt less like a prison.
Gorgeous, lush gardens sprawled across the expansive back lawn, with a guest house tucked into the corner of the property. I almost enjoyed it, padding barefoot through the grass, until I couldn’t ignore the swarms of armed guards patrolling the perimeter.
Finally, I found Torin, lounging in an oversized armchair in a sitting room near the back of the house. A bottle of something strong-smelling sat next to a dirty rag on the coffee table, his pistol in his hands. I cracked my knuckles, and Torin’s head snapped to mine.
“Um, hi. Sorry to interrupt, but could you take me to lunch with Sam, please?”
“Aye, Miss Sterling,” he said, securing something on his gun with a click before slipping it into his holster.
I wiggled my nose. Only a handful of people called me Miss, and I hated it every time. That term usually preceded some entitled older alpha with too much money putting his hand too close to my ass.
“Willow,” I corrected. “Miss Sterling is far too formal.”
A smirk curled at the corner of his mouth, making his eyes crinkle.
“Sorry, lass. Willow is too familiar. The boss will string me up if I’m too friendly with you.” My eyes narrowed. “Best I can do is Miss Willow. Take it or leave it,” he said, gesturing toward the front door.
I shrugged, following him outside. He opened the door of a sleek black car. My nails tapped against the thick, glossy tint on the windows as Torin slid into the driver’s seat.
“Bulletproof glass,” he mumbled in his thick Scottish burr.
“Is that really necessary?”
“Boss’s orders.”
Ridiculous.
I crossed my arms, leaning into the cool leather interior. An unfamiliar emotion battled with my anger. Nobody cared enough about me before to assign me a bodyguard or put me in an armored car. As a high-profile senator’s daughter, it wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility.
A lot of senators’ families had personal security, but my dad always said it was an unnecessary expense.
Warmth curled in my belly, sending a tingle straight to my pussy.
An alpha cared about me and wanted to keep me safe. My skin prickled, remembering his touch. I picked at an invisible thread on the dress he gifted me. It was too good to be true. What did he want? I had nothing to offer Kaelen Finnegan.
Men like him pursued illustrious omegas who could expand their wealth or influence. In theory, having the omega daughter of the future governor under his control was appealing. And if my father became governor, he might use me to control him.
None of that would matter. My father wouldn’t be swayed by anything to do with me. Kaelen could threaten to slit my throat, and chances were my dad would be relieved to be rid of me. Regardless, Kaelen didn’t need me. He had other ways of getting what he wanted.
It was quiet as Torin drove through the streets of Boston toward my favorite hole-in-the-wall brunch place that none of the tourists knew about.
“Can you turn on some music?” I asked, unable to stand the stale silence any longer.
“No, Miss Willow. I need to focus while you’re in the car. No distractions.”
Stuffy fucker.
“Fine.”
We arrived at The Nook & Cranny. Torin scanned the area as he opened my door, escorting me into the diner. Hair prickled on my nape at his intensity. Did he really expect someone to attack me in broad daylight? All the tension in my body vanished when Sam’s hazelnut eyes landed on mine.
Jumping up, she nearly knocked her chair over. A pinched look flashed on Torin’s brow before he fixed his face into a more professional mask. He leaned against a wall close to our table.
“I’ll be here, Miss Willow,” Torin said.
“Woah,” Sam breathed, tugging me into the empty seat beside her. “What’s going on with the cutie beta looking like he would take a bullet for you? Did your dad hire you a bodyguard or something?”
I sidestepped Sam’s question, sipping on the coffee she had waiting for me.
“Ugh. Don’t call him cute. He is a barnacle, at best.”
“You’re calling that gorgeous beta with that delicious Scottish accent a barnacle?”
I rolled my eyes, watching as Torin ran his tongue along his teeth. Part of me debated telling her a lie, but I couldn’t. Samantha was like a bloodhound. Girl knew when I was fibbing before I even opened my mouth.
Two plates laden with roasted potatoes, eggs, and toast rested in front of us. I picked at the bowl of fresh fruit as Sam tossed her thick auburn braid aside. A wave of her strawberry and vanilla scent hit me.
Every time I thought about what kind of omega an alpha wanted, I thought of Sam. She was the quintessential version of an omega: beautiful, charming, and submissive.
When she wanted to be.
To alphas, at least.
Sam tended to say what she thought without thinking, but she usually knew when to zip it.
I was awkward and loud and made alphas uneasy. Which was fine with me. I didn’t want an alpha. Even if my omega disagreed. I didn’t want to end up like my mother. Bound to someone cruel.
“Sam,” I whispered, leaning closer. “If I tell you who he is, you can’t tell anyone.”
The lines around her mouth faded as she glared at my guard. Her tiny fingers curled around my forearm, squeezing gently. Gooseflesh skittered up my arm, and I relaxed slightly. Outside my mom, Sam was the only person I trusted.
“What’s wrong? Are you safe? Do you need me to beat the barnacle up and get you out of here?”
I snorted, and she glowered at me. Not only was my friend as cuddly as a bunny, but she was barely five feet tall. While I didn’t doubt she would come to my rescue, I imagined Torin would win.
My gaze darted to the dark corner where he was standing, the crinkles around his eyes giving away his amusement at our conversation.
So as we picked over our meal, I told Sam everything. Almost everything. I left out the part about Kaelen being the head of the Irish mob. She would figure that part out on her own soon enough.
Like me, her curiosity would win out.