Chapter 22
Willow
What the fuck did I do? Why the fuck would I do this?
Willow was on the verge of tears as she turned the water as hot as she could tolerate. There was no window to sneak out of, but she wanted to get away. She’d made a mistake doing anything except being a good little captive that kept her mouth shut.
Muddled questions pinged around in her skull, the memories fuzzy. Ryker had fucked her so thoroughly that she was still sore and feeling the remnants of it all sticking to her thighs. At least the dryer had finished the night before, so she’d have her clothes again. Something that felt normal.
She washed the layer of sweat and cum off her, trying not to worry about what was happening on the other side of the door.
She’d thought Ryker would be the gentle type, considering how he’d treated her leading up to it.
His large hands had been so tender and careful—every movement filled with intention.
But there was a dark side to him, and she fucking loved it. The way he’d pinned her down and punished her was a thrill she hadn’t experienced before.
That warning bell in the back of her mind wouldn’t stop, though.
The one that told her they were bad news.
She was getting herself right back into a bad situation.
A sinister voice whispered more things: damaged, broken, doomed.
She would always make the same mistakes.
Always pick what would break her until she was nothing again.
“You’re a stupid bitch, Willow. If it wasn’t for your dad, I would fucking dump you.”
Her chest tightened. She braced herself on the tile wall in the shower, the hot spray of water mingling with every unpleasant feeling taking over her senses. The droplets pummeled her skin—all too familiar and unwelcome.
It’s the past. It’s the past. It’s the past.
Focus. Focus. Focus.
She worked on her toes and fingers, grounding herself in the present.
That’s what her old therapist had told her to do.
The one who didn’t question her after the accident.
She’d stopped going to the sessions due to money and needing physical therapy more.
Once she’d started the hacking scams, she decided not to go again, though.
The breathing exercises worked well enough, and she didn’t want to talk about the same things repeatedly.
Landon was a good friend to have. He’d always been there when she needed some human presence.
She didn’t dump all her sad crap on him, but there were enough things in the layers for him to parse out.
Plus, he could read the news articles about it.
His help in getting involved with hacking had been completely unexpected, and she had no idea how to pay him back.
“Help someone else.” That had been his only response.
So she did. She used her knowledge and skills to help others. Why should people like Selene from work have to risk bankruptcy because they dislocated their knee? There was no reason for healthcare to be the way it was—cruel and greedy.
Thumps could be heard outside the bathroom, but they didn’t sound like fighting or anything serious. Probably just the guys fumbling around.
At least her head was all right, if a little fuzzy.
She hadn’t been drunk when she had sex with Ryker, but the buzz had definitely lowered her walls.
The end of the night, wrapped in his embrace, was when things became unclear.
She had faint memories of telling Ryker that she wanted both of them.
Surely, if she’d said something like that, he would’ve flipped out, right?
Willow breathed deep, trying to stay centered in all the emotional upheaval.
Her previous attempts at relationships after Billy had been guarded disasters, and hook-ups mediocre at best. These two had been able to get under her skin, though.
They’d found their way into her mind. That’s what scared her the most. The way they could break down her barriers.
Would it be so bad? She wasn’t sure. But she was scared. Scared of the possibility of now being hurt by two men when only one had caused so much pain in the past.
She switched off the shower and climbed out, wrapping her towel from the previous day around herself. As she dressed, she tried to listen for hints at what was going on out there. There was no way Ryker would say something. At least not now, while they were trapped.
“You’re fucking mine, Willow.”
That was when her heart jumped up into her throat. Until that point, she could file away all of their antics into a sexy but stupid compartment. Nothing was going to be permanent, even if she had been fantasizing about it.
Grumbling drifted through the closed door as she dabbed more water out of her hair. There were no products to work with, so chaotic frizz she would have to deal with.
With one last glance in the mirror, she turned to exit the bathroom. She kept her eyes lowered, wishing for the impossibility that they wouldn’t pay attention to her presence. But of course that wouldn’t happen.
Ryker was in the kitchen, heating up what appeared to be frozen breakfast burritos. Her stomach clenched. She was hungry, but the growing tension was turning that pang into a nauseating sensation. Ezra sat upright on the couch, bags under his eyes as he nursed a cup of water.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he said, assessing her clothes. “You look refreshed.” Then, he leveled a look at Ryker.
Maybe the two of them hadn’t talked about anything, and he was making assumptions.
She wouldn’t rise to the bait. “Can I still come with you to use my phone?”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “We’ll get out of here soon.”
Ryker set out their breakfast on the table. They settled in, taking silent bites at their egg, bacon, and hash brown burritos. The tension in the room was driving her crazy. If she hadn’t felt so lightheaded, then she wouldn’t have bothered forcing herself to eat. At least it tasted good.
Once finished, she gathered their plates to clean, setting them in the sink and soaping up the sponge. If she stayed busy, time would pass more quickly.
Ryker said he was going to take a shower. He exchanged a look with her, but she couldn’t decipher his expression. Maybe a warning? Oh well, it wasn’t like she was going to talk.
The door latched as he disappeared behind it, and as if on cue, the sound of the running water prompted a large, warm presence behind her. He leaned forward, caging her in with his hands resting on the counter.
“Where did you sleep?” he asked, grazing the top of her head with his lips and breathing her in. Each inhale sent a trickle of pleasure down her spine that spread through her lower belly.
How can I be turned on again so soon?
“Willow?” His voice was soft, like he was concerned.
It was so different from what she’d expected from them at the beginning. They weren’t cold-blooded killers. There was more underneath that tough exterior.
But she trusted Billy at the start, too.
“I slept in the bed,” she said finally.
“With Ryker?” There was a note of agitation.
“Yeah.” She scrubbed and rinsed the last plate before setting it in the drying rack. “It’s much more comfortable without being squished between both of you.”
She didn’t want to admit how much she had actually loved being between them that first night. Even with the tension and fooling around behind Ezra’s back, she had felt fairly at ease.
But she couldn’t entertain thoughts like that. She needed to create distance regardless of the ache it left in her chest.
Willow needed to get away before she could get hurt again.