Chapter Four #3
He wasn’t interested in any baby gifts, silly games or the cake that was frosted in a pastel rainbow to match the balloon arch and the streamers.
He couldn’t shake the fucking dread gripping him.
Too slowly, the party wound down. Before Willow could throw herself into cleanup, he grabbed her by the hand.
She whirled to face him, her eyes round and startled.
“Shower’s over. Time to talk to Carson.”
She gulped. “Decker—”
He tugged her hand, ushering her to the exit.
“Decker!”
“Don’t make me toss you over my shoulder.”
That silenced her. If not for his reason behind dragging her to the Black Heart Security office, he might gloat that he was able to silence her at all. They exited the therapy lodge and he led her to the side entrance of the big house. As they entered, male voices carried toward them.
“Decker, this isn’t really necess—”
He sent her a sidelong look that made her cheeks pink with what he could only guess to be suppressed anger. He didn’t care if she was as spitting mad as a cat in a bathtub—his only concern was her safety.
He towed her to the open office door and rapped on the frame. Carson, Colt and Denver stopped talking and looked up.
Decker felt them taking in the two of them. Then Carson’s gaze dropped to Decker’s fingers curled around Willow’s.
He released her but the warmth still lingered on his skin.
“What’s going on?” Colt’s eyes narrowed.
“Tell them,” Decker said.
Willow crossed her arms, and Decker could practically see her digging in her heels.
“Look, it’s really not a big deal. Someone sent me a rose. It’s probably just a silly crush or a mistake. Maybe it was meant for one of the other girls and got mixed up.”
Carson’s brow furrowed. “What rose?”
“Someone delivered it with the flowers for the baby shower.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Along with some honey last week. It’s sweet, really. Probably just someone being neighborly.”
“Neighborly,” Denver repeated, his tone flat. “With roses.”
“A single red rose,” Decker interjected.
“Any card?” Denver folded his arms and widened his stance.
“Yes.” She darted a look at Decker before slipping her tongue over her bottom lip.
“I opened it while everyone was playing games. It only had my name. No signature. It could be anyone.” She waved a hand.
“Maybe the server at the diner or someone I smiled at in town. You know how people are around here—friendly.”
Colt rocked back in his chair, studying his sister. “Willow, when’s the last time any of us got anonymous gifts from friendly neighbors?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Have you looked in the mirror? You’re all intimidating as hell.”
“Tell them about the book.” Decker’s voice made all three men strain forward, muscles locked.
“There’s a book?” Carson’s voice was pitched low.
In only a few words, Willow mumbled something about the book Felicity gave her at the shop.
Decker kept his gaze fixed on Carson while tension coiled tighter in his chest. Every word out of Willow’s mouth made it clear she was minimizing a situation that had his every instinct screaming danger.
The way she kept trying to rationalize it, to find innocent explanations, reminded him too much of soldiers who ignored their gut feelings right before everything went to hell.
Willow folded her arms and lifted her jaw in the same manner he saw on Denver. “I’m sure this will stop once whoever it is realizes I’m not interested. These things usually just fizzle out.”
“Usually.” Denver sounded totally unconvinced as he exchanged a look with his brothers.
“Willow?” a voice called from the hallway, followed by quick footsteps. Honor appeared with a frosting-smeared Navy on her hip. She took in the group, her brows pinching. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but where would you like us to store the leftover food?”
“I’ll come take care of it.”
Honor darted a look at the faces of Willow’s brothers. “If you’ll just tell me, I’ll handle it.”
Willow’s shoulders sagged slightly—the only sign that she might be more affected by this conversation than she was letting on. “No, we just wrapped up our discussion. I’m right behind you, Honor.”
The woman retreated. After her footsteps were no longer audible, Willow shot a pointed look around the room. “You’re making a Malone mountain out of a molehill.”
With that, she swept out of the office, her heels clicking like gunshots as she strode off.
Decker’s attention snapped fully to Carson. The silence stretched taut between them before he finally spoke.
“I want on the team.”
Carson blinked, clearly not expecting that particular bomb to hit. “That’s…a big step, Decker.”
“Rhae’s going to release me from the program.” The words came out rougher than he intended. “She thinks I’m ready.”
“Are you?” Colt asked.
Decker’s jaw worked. The truth was, he felt more ready than he had in months. The fog that had clouded his thinking, the weight that had pressed down on his chest every morning…most of it had lifted. But not because of the therapy sessions or the art projects or the damn horses.
It was her. Willow had become his anchor without even knowing it.
“What is Willow not telling us?” Carson’s voice cut through his thoughts, direct and no-nonsense.
The dam broke.
Decker told them everything. About watching her at the Rusty Spur that night, about the drunk bastard who wouldn’t take no for an answer. About tossing the guy into the parking lot and how he whipped around and sliced him in the shoulder.
He described how Willow had brushed off the honey. He described her look of surprise when Felicity gave her the book on horses she never ordered.
And now the rose.
Each word rolled out rapid-fire, driven by an urgency he couldn’t contain.
“The guy from the bar. He was aggressive, but he was drunk. Sloppy. This feels different. More calculated.”
Carson leaned forward. “You think it’s the same person?”
“Maybe. But if it is, he’s escalating. And if it’s not…” Decker sliced a hand through his hair. “Then we’re looking at someone who’s been watching her long enough to know her routines…and her soft heart. Someone who knows exactly how to reach her without raising red flags.”
Denver’s expression had grown increasingly grim. “What aren’t you telling us?”
The question hung in the air, and Decker felt the weight of his own fears pressing against his chest. “I think whoever this is, they’re just getting started. The gifts—they’re testing boundaries. Seeing how much they can get away with before someone notices.”
“And?” Colt prompted.
“And Willow’s response is exactly what they’re counting on. She doesn’t want to worry anyone, doesn’t want to be the center of drama. She’ll keep making excuses, keep downplaying it, until…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.
The silence that followed was heavy with understanding.
Carson’s fingers drummed against the desk. “You said you want on the team.”
“I do.”
“Why now?”
Decker met his gaze steadily. “Because I can’t protect her if I’m just another veteran in therapy. But if I’m on the team…” He let the implication hang.
“Your first assignment could be watching Willow,” Carson filled in the blank.
He looked her brother in the eye. “I’ve already been doing it.”
The admission settled over the room like the confession it was.
Carson folded his arms. “What do you mean?”
“Look, you all trust her strong character to carry her through life. I trust Willow too. It’s the rest of the world I don’t trust.”